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Spock raised an eyebrow. “Has it occurred to you that there's a certain inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you've already made up your mind about?”
“It gives me emotional security,” the captain replied with a smile.
It was not a logical statement, particularly as it was evidently untrue.
The captain knew better than anyone that, for a starship, security could come only from proficiency, and Captain Kirk accepted little short of perfection, as ought have been expected of the crew of such a starship as the Enterprise.
The captain held himself to the same high standard, but as their standoff with the alien probe drew on, he showed very human signs of stress. He massaged at his temples, the mental stress turned to muscular tension, and he paced the bridge with increasing irritability.
“Jim,” Spock attempted to reach out to the captain, to provide support as was his duty as First Officer, and perhaps, as a friend.
However, he was met with a sharp rebuke; the captain needed answers, not consolation.
The creature which had invaded the ship had been destroyed and all quarters declared safe, but the captain still remained pensive and preoccupied.
Spock approached the con cautiously. “Something wrong, Captain?”
Spock’s words jarred the captain from his thoughts, but his initial battle-ready alertness was quickly replaced with a wry smile.
“I was thinking about the buffalo, Mr. Spock,” the captain replied; the creature they had destroyed was the last of its kind.
Spock knew enough about human emotion to wait until Dr. McCoy had left the bridge to broach the subject further.
“It is our duty to do what is necessary for the safety of the crew,” Spock said, not because he thought the captain needed any reminder, but in surprise that the captain seemed to regret killing the creature even when the cost would have otherwise been his life.
“Of course,” the captain said a little sharply, though he seemed more weary than insulted, “but it’s still a pity.”
Spock hesitated. He had been raised with the Vulcan philosophy of pacifism, but he had quickly learned that though Starfleet did not condone unnecessary violence, there was no room for an officer who was not ready to take a life in the course of his duties. Especially as First Officer, the captain had to be able to rely on him in any way under any circumstances.
And now that the crisis was over, it was only logical for Spock to support the captain’s very reasonable conclusion. “From a scientific perspective, it is a great loss.”
“Something like that,” the captain said with a smile.
“I hope your gamble paid off,” Dr. McCoy said, his words presumably directed at Spock as they were the only ones left in sickbay.
Spock stopped short of leaving and turned around to face him. “It was no gamble, Doctor. Given the Romulans’ shared history with my own Vulcan antecedents, making a show of strength was the only logical way to prevent a war.”
“You and your logic,” Dr. McCoy retorted. “It’s no wonder Jim was having a rough time of it.”
Spock raised an eyebrow at the doctor. “The captain performed his duties admirably.”
“Now listen here, I don’t pretend to know what it’s like commanding a ship, but as his first officer, you’re supposed to make his job easier, not harder. Starting an intergalactic war is too much to put on any man’s shoulders.”
“And yet he bore the responsibility with grace. You’re a doctor, you saw for yourself that on this occasion he exhibited no physiological or emotional symptoms of stress despite the circumstances.”
“On the bridge, in front of the men, maybe he’s learned to hide it, but you didn’t see him-” the doctor cut himself off with a dismissive gesture at Spock. “Oh, I don’t know why I bother trying to get you to see men as more than machines!”
Spock gave Dr. McCoy a dubious look; he needed no reminder of the captain’s very human struggles as he became accustomed to the weight of command. However, perhaps Dr. McCoy was right, and the captain had indeed merely become better at concealing any difficulty.
“The decision to take a life is never to be undertaken lightly,” Spock said, “but as is often the case, a decision needed to be made, and I can think of no one more equipped to make it.”
Dr. McCoy just shook his head in exasperation, and Spock finally took his leave to return to the captain’s side, where he belonged.
“Captain.” Commissioner Ferris stepped onto the bridge, looking none too pleased. “What’s this about turning around? Your orders were clear to proceed to Makus Three immediately. Your obstinance has already ensured there’s no more time to spare.”
Captain Kirk stood to face the commissioner, his good mood from the shuttlecraft crew’s safe return vanished. “My orders are to ensure the safety of my crew. I couldn’t just ignore a signal from the shuttlecraft when we were in range to beam them up. Now we are on route to deliver the necessary drugs to Makus Three, with none of your precious time wasted.”
“The record will show that I warned you not to send them out in the first place during such a delicate mission, as well as how you’ve consistently addressed a Starfleet HIgh Commissioner.”
“It will show that I acted as I saw fit as commanding officer of this ship to carry out our exploratory mission and complete this assignment. Now, is there something you need, Commissioner?”
“You will go to Makus Three with no more delays or detours,” the commissioner said, and then finally left the bridge again.
Only when the turbolift doors closed behind the commissioner did Kirk return to the captain’s chair with a weary sigh, a headache threatening at his temples.
Mr. Spock lingered at the captain’s elbow, looking distinctly like there was something he wanted to say.
“Are you going to tell me it wasn’t logical to turn around and rescue you, even after your desperate gamble to signal the ship?” Kirk said pointedly.
“No, sir.”
That earned him a suggestion of a smile. “Something else troubling you, Mr. Spock?”
“I believe I underestimated the difficulties of command,” Spock replied with a touch of sympathy in addition to his own uncertainties.
“Bones told me you had some trouble with the crew. When things go wrong, there will always be someone convinced they could have done better.” Kirk glanced back at the doors to the turbolift, which the commissioner had just exited through.
Spock shook his head. “My decisions were logical, but it was not enough. I thought I could avoid needlessly taking a life, but I know that as a Starfleet officer, I should have been prepared to do what was necessary to ensure the safety of the crew.”
“It’s hard to know what the right thing to do is in the moment. Maybe the commissioner was right and I shouldn’t have sent you out in the first place. I certainly couldn’t afford to lose you—or Bones or Scotty.”
Spock’s full attention turned to the captain. “Your decision was logical given the information you had. We have standing orders to investigate all quasars and quasar-like phenomena, there was plenty of time, and the ion storms were not so severe when the shuttle launched.”
Kirk smiled at the bid of confidence. “No one could say you didn’t do what was necessary, logical or otherwise.”
Spock raised an eyebrow at the insinuation.