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Undercover missions were nothing new, Spock had been a member of several of them before, though he was not a regular member of the landing party for these types of missions. Generally, they were composed of members of the security crew, and perhaps another member of a different specialty if necessary for the mission. Diplomatic meetings were also not new to Spock, and he was often involved in these missions due to his Vulcan heritage, and being a higher ranked officer. This mission, however, was an odd combination of both, and Spock found himself strongly disliking the result.
The mission itself was originally simple, a matter of meeting the government of a planet that desired to join the Federation, but during their travel to the planet the government collapsed and a complete overhaul to their politics and laws was completed. It was fascinating, from a cultural standpoint, but highly inconvenient as the new governing party had instituted some rather strict rules. This meeting was no longer paperwork and niceties, but an attempt to convince the new politicians of the planet to join the Federation, and to change some of their new policies so that Federation business with their planet could be conducted smoothly.
Until that point, however… Spock was desperately scrambling to compartmentalize everything he was feeling as he was walked through the streets of the city, a leather cord fashioned around his neck and connected to a strip of fabric that currently resided in his captain’s hand. He kept his head high, despite the repeated blows to his dignity every time a resident of the planet or another one of the landing party looked at him. The captain suddenly moved to the side to let someone pass, and Spock was jerked forward with him, the leather tightening to a choke until he was close enough to create some slack.
“Sorry, Spock.” Pike murmured to him as they continued to walk, but the apology did not soothe the burning pain on his neck, nor the utter humiliation he felt about being tugged along like a misbehaving pet. He should not have allowed this, should have rejected the captain's order to attend the mission, should have done anything but allowed himself to be collared and leashed and put on display. He almost felt as though he was back on Vulcan, where a single glance at him revealed to anyone that he was less than but… no, this was worse than that. It is not simply that he is less than on this planet, he is nothing.
It was a relief when they finally entered the capital building, to be away from the stares of onlookers. The relief was short lived, as upon entering the designated meeting room, one of the aliens snatched the end of the leash from Pike’s loose grip, dragging Spock away- and though Spock hated to be seen like this in front of the crew, the idea of being separated from them was far worse. “Captain.” Spock’s voice was strained from the tight tugging of the collar, but the word seemed to shock Pike out of the stupor he’d been put into, and he quickly grabbed the leash back.
“I’d rather hold onto this, thanks.” The captain told the alien firmly, much to its distress.
“The controlled are not allowed in meetings!” Spock cringed, and took a half step back towards the captain.
“Spock will be absolutely perfect, won’t you?”
“Yes captain.” Came the gritted reply, it appeared that Pike was enjoying this to an extent, and Spock wasn’t sure if he felt more hurt or annoyed. Thankfully, the alien ran off, and the crew started settling themselves at the central table. It was very clear that there was not a seat for Spock, but he was content to remain standing. The other alternatives were far less pleasing to imagine.
The members of the new council arrived shortly thereafter, and the meeting began pleasantly enough. Greetings and small talk were made, before they got into the politics of it all. Spock remained silent and still, up until they finally made it to the point of the laws that disagreed with the Federation’s own. The captain started discussing them, but the leader cut him off.
“That is your Vulcan, correct?”
“He’s not mine, he’s his own person.” Pike replied, frowning.
“But he is under your command, yes?” The alien pressed, clearly growing frustrated. Pike gave a single nod in reply. “Was it not better to have him under stricter control here, than aboard your spaceship, or on other planets? Not have to worry about him wandering off… getting into trouble… getting hurt?”
“That’s not-” Pike tried to correct, but the alien pushed onwards.
“He’s in blue, that's a science officer aboard the Starfleet ships, yes? How cute! But I’m sure, on occasion, he does something he isn’t supposed to do too? An unsanctioned experiment, a dangerous test… everyone here that is not of our species, or human, is strictly controlled and monitored, and it makes everything much much easier.”
“But-”
“Even the most perfectly trained pets disobey, so we make sure that they cannot. Is that too much to ask from your Federation, to make sure their members do not break any rules on our planet?”
“When it’s done like this, yes!” Pike finally interjected, his voice deep and booming. “This is dehumanizing, and wrong. You cannot treat sentient beings like this.”
Spock felt the slightest bit of relief that he worked under such a captain. Even though the rest of the conversation following was very inefficient and ineffective in regards to changing the view points of this government, Spock allowed himself to relax slightly knowing that the captain did dislike how he was being treated. The officials listened with polite disinterest, nodded at the appropriate places, and dismissed every argument Pike and the others raised.
When they were dismissed, Pike did not wait for further ceremony. He gathered his officers and left the chamber, keeping his grip on the leash just tight enough to prevent it from dropping, but otherwise loose..
Only when the doors to their temporary quarters closed behind them did Pike release the strip of fabric. His hands moved at once to the knot at Spock’s neck, and though he was gentle, Spock still flinched at the contact. The collar fell free at last, leaving a thin line of angry red around his throat.
“Spock,” Pike said quietly, his voice stripped of the commanding tone it had carried only moments before, “I’m sorry. I should never have allowed this. I thought it was the only way to get us inside, but I was wrong. I should’ve found another way.”
Spock straightened his uniform, ignoring the sting where the fabric brushed the irritated skin. “It was difficult to reconcile that you were the one holding the leash.” He admitted, knowing the captain was looking not yet for absolution.
Pike’s expression faltered, his shoulders dropping, “I know. And I hated it, every second of it. But I promise you this, no one will ever see you like that again, not while I’m your captain.”
Spock inclined his head, accepting the words though not yet the comfort. He could not ignore the memory of humiliation, nor the way Pike’s hand had reacted with amusement in the council chamber. But he also could not ignore the strength with which Pike had defended him, or the anger in his captain’s voice when he had called the practice what it was: wrong.
“Your apology is noted,” Spock said at last. “And… appreciated.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them not yet eased but no longer unbearable. Spock allowed himself one measured breath, then turned toward the door. “Shall we rejoin the others, Captain?”
“Yeah. Let’s get out of this place.” Pike replied with a small smile.