| New: "Praying for Time" Under the Sun series Part 6 Author: T'Thrill Series: TOS Romance Code: S/K/Mc, K/m, Su/C, Sc/Uh (implied), Sa/Am Rating: NC-17 m/m Summary: The Enterprise has returned to Earth following the encounter with Khan, resulting in Spock's death. "Praying for Time," is the sixth part in the Under the Sun series. If you have not read the first five installments, "Skylights", "Life is but a Dream", "The Burning Sands", "Easy Does It", and "The Winter of Despair", you may want to do so before reading this story. They can be found on my webpage -- T'Thrill's Den of Trek Delights - http://www.oocities.org/tthrill1612/ Warning: This story contains very explicit m/m sex. If you are not interested in and/or offended by such things, you will find reading this a complete waste of your time so please move on. If you are under 18 years of age, please move on. Disclaimer: Copyright 2003 by T'Thrill. This is an original work of amateur fiction based on Star Trek. This work makes "fair use" of Star Trek copyrighted material; it is not intended to infringe on the intellectual property rights of Paramount, Viacom or other owners of copyright in Star Trek or any of their assignees or licensees. The author's copyright extends only to the original material in this work. Archive: Okay to archive in COCO-SSD and ASCEM only provided that header, disclaimers, my name, and email address is attached. All others please ask. My email address is -- TThrill1612@aol.com Acknowledgments: To Selek, who has been my wonderful beta for this series. His patience, kindness, and support have much to do with me not throwing my hands up and trashing my keyboard a long time ago. And to Marcee, who offered her terrific insights and opinions toward the development of this story. Without them, my Vulcans would have no dimension, my sentences would have no structure, and my readers would last through about the first paragraph. Thanks to you both! Chapter 1/12 Bill Morrow stood in the docking bay of the Space Station and watched as the wounded ship approached. As Commander of Starfleet, there were events that stood out as shining examples of the superiority and integrity of the 'Fleet, events that filled one such as himself with pride and gratification. There were also, inevitably, those times when someone in his position had to deal with situations that were extremely distressing. This, he decided as he watched the hull of the ship slide by with a massive, charred gash ripped into her port, was perhaps the worst of those times. Having just returned from the memorial service honoring the lost crew of the Alexander, he realized that wounded ships and loss of life had become all too familiar in recent weeks. He watched the tethers extend and latch onto the compromised vessel. Although nearly mortally wounded, he was well aware of the fact that the ship was not nearly as damaged as her acting commander, nor was her commander aware that it was only going get worse. The task at hand would have been difficult under any circumstance, but it seemed even worse since it was Kirk he would have to face. He was a legend throughout the galaxy. His exploits had become almost mythical, achieving him the status of hero to many, enemy to some. But even heroes weren't invulnerable to pain, and Morrow was as aware as any that Kirk had already seen his share. It was hard to believe that he had known Jim Kirk for better than thirty-five years. Bill had been in his second year at Starfleet Academy when he had first met Jim, but had certainly known *of* him a full year before that first encounter. Being in the same class as Jim's brother, Bill had roomed with Sam Kirk during their Academy years, and the two of them had become close friends. From the beginning, he had become all too familiar with the exploits of Sam, his younger brother, Jimmy, and the stunts they played on not only each other, but on any unsuspecting mark that happened to cross the Kirk brothers' path. Bill had grown up in a strict, authoritarian household, and he had loved listening to the nearly endless tales of the high jinks that seemed as if they had been a part of these brother's everyday lives, activities that would not have been tolerated in his own family. But it seemed that in the Kirk household, the only time there was strict discipline doled out was on the rare occasions when the boys' father, Lieutenant Commander Samuel Kirk, would show up for brief periods of mostly unwarranted, and largely resented, heavy-handed, iron-fisted rule. The only person making such visits bearable was their mother, who, according to all accounts, must have been a force to be reckoned with in her own right. Sam had been a good student, but certainly not at the top of his class. However, even for all the episodes that seemed to color his past, Sam seemed to stay out of trouble for the most part. There were a few exceptions, usually the result of an occasional practical joke that would land him on weekend detention every so often. But, all in all, Sam Kirk was an outgoing, gregarious kind of guy that never took anything, including himself, too seriously. He was the kind of guy you took an instant liking to, even though when he was around you always checked under your bed and in your shoes, just in case your bed slats were missing or your boots were filled with beard suppressor. At the end of their first year, Sam had received the news that his mother had been on Tarsus IV when the famine and overthrow occurred, and she had been killed in the conflict. Bill remembered how torn up Sam had been, but finals were coming up and his roommate had to pull himself together quickly to get through them. He was still pretty depressed when they parted for the summer. As was the normal duty for rising sophomores at the Academy, they had been scheduled for a three-month stint as apprentices on different frigates. But when they returned for the fall term, Sam was every bit his usual, mischievous, social, self. Needless to say, most were expecting a younger, much younger, version of the same when Jim Kirk arrived at the Academy. Expectations couldn't have been more wrong. It was that second year when Jim had entered Starfleet Academy as a plebe. Although there had been only one class between them, Jim was a full four years their junior. It was the first time there had been such an exception made, allowing a fourteen year old to enroll as a cadet, and it was safe to say that most initially viewed Jim Kirk as a spoiled 'Fleet brat, with friends in very high places. Whereas most plebes arrived fresh-faced, scrubbed clean, glowing, and nervous as hell, that certainly didn't describe Jim Kirk. There was, for lack of a better term, an aura of dark brooding that surrounded the kid. There was something dangerous about him; a seriousness that bordered on intimidating. Maybe it was his personification of confidence that had made him stand out among the other freshmen that showed up that year, as if there was a self-imposed, impermeable shell surrounding him, and there wasn't a force in the universe capable of penetrating it. Situations that reduced other novices to jelly didn't cause Jim Kirk to so much as flinch. That's not to say he wasn't a charmer. God, even at that age he'd had a smile that made everyone in the complex take notice. Maybe it was that enigma of danger, charm, and good looks--extraordinarily good looks--that made him a target for a couple of the upperclassmen. But try as they might, as far as Bill knew, no one ever got the best of Jim. Driven. That was the best way to describe him. It seemed impossible that this was the same boy that Sam had described in his endless ramblings. There seemed no possibility that this was the same kid who was known for parking an obsessive neighbor's tractor on top of the county courthouse or spiking an overzealous teacher's coffee with a hefty dose of pepper sauce. Even Sam seemed to be at a loss as to the reason for the change in his brother. Whatever the reason, Sam couldn't seem to get the kid to open up. The three of them had spent a lot of time together, and, in Bill's opinion, it always seemed that even with the age difference, Jim was the more mature of the two brothers. Old beyond his years was the way Bill always thought of him. Their father had been killed that year, and Bill attended the service with them. Sam, always one to wear his emotions close to the surface, took it hard, but Jim seemed to settle beneath that shell of his and was the one who took over the arrangements and any other duties that needed attending to. Bill remembered watching the efficiency with which Jim handled the formalities and was amazed that he was only fifteen at the time. Sometime early their third year, his roommate had stumbled in one evening sporting a broken jaw. The rumor was that it was Jim who gave it to him. Sam never would tell him what had happened, but after that, he seemed to stop trying to bridge the gap that had formed between himself and his younger brother. Sure, the three of them still spent time together, on those rare occasions when they could pry Jim's nose out of a book, or when the kid wasn't off being tutored by that commodore that he spent so much time with. What was his name? Decker...that was it. The old guy, well, he had seemed old at the time anyway, seemed to be Jim's closest companion for those first years. Bill decided that to Jim, Decker was the father figure the boys had lacked growing up. The thought had occurred to him that there was more going on, but considering the Commodore's stellar reputation, and Jim's age, he had dismissed that thought as ludicrous. But it wasn't just from his brother that Jim distanced himself. From his first days at the Academy, Jim had preferred being alone, favoring drills and books to companionship. But surprisingly, this state seemed to be more by his own doing. With most loners, they find themselves thrust into that behavior after being branded an outcast. With Jim, it was quite the opposite. As much as his presence was resented in the beginning, it didn't take long for the other cadets to begin to realize that Jim Kirk was there for one reason, and one reason only-- his abilities. He excelled in every class and at every task he was assigned, and he did so with such charisma that you just couldn't help but find yourself liking him. Even in those early days, it was blatantly obvious that he was a natural-born leader. People just seemed naturally drawn to him. His circle of friends was wide, however Jim made sure that he never allowed himself to become too close to anyone. Even after they had all left the Academy, it seemed that Jim was never going let anyone tie him down. God knows there were a lot who wanted to, males and females alike. But Jim always seemed to side-step that 'trap', as he was so fond of calling it, much to the chagrin of all the bodies left in his wake. And, as much has Morrow hated to admit it, even he had been one of those who had wished for more from Jim Kirk, only to find he would never have it. By the time Morrow and Sam graduated, they had grown apart. Not because of anything specific, it was just that their interests had been drawn in different directions. Sam had decided on a career in scientific research, and Bill had a taste for command. Besides, all those scientific types just didn't appeal to Bill Morrow. There was that taciturn Vulcan, for instance, who kept sweeping all the science awards, but never had ten words to say to anyone for the whole four years. Also, during their senior year, a cute little research assistant named Aurelan Holcomb had struck Sam deaf, dumb, and blind. If there ever was any such thing as love at first sight, their meeting was a prime example. It was no more than a month into the relationship that they were talking marriage, not a timed contract, but a real, old fashioned, forever and ever, marriage. The wedding plans were set for just after graduation. They were to be married at Sam's family home in an outdoor ceremony. Sam had asked both Bill and Jim to stand with him, and both agreed. Well, they agreed after some heated discussions on whether or not Sam knew what the hell he was doing, but nothing was going to sway his decision. Sam, having decided against taking the command path, hadn't had to face the Kobayashi Maru. Bill had faced it for the fourth time that spring and, for the fourth time, had failed. But since no one had ever beaten the no-win scenario, he didn't feel too bad since his points were considerably higher than anyone else in his class. That was, until they posted the results from all the classes. There was one who had scored higher. Jim Kirk, on only his second attempt, and being a year behind him, had scored sixteen points higher than he had. As much as he liked the kid, and he liked the kid a lot, it wasn't the first time Bill had felt outdone by him, and felt the pang of jealousy as it raised its ugly head. It was like anything that Jim touched turned to gold. He was first his class, first on the track team, and first on the wrestling team. Jim was four years younger than him, and seemed to be ahead of him at every turn. Hell, even after the kid had finally turned eighteen and was old enough to take to the clubs, when he was around it was like no one else existed. Male and female alike wanted to get to know the 'golden' kid with the killer eyes and deadly grin. It got to the point where it was intimidating as hell just to be with him. Then, at some point, Bill realized the only thing worse was to not be with him at all. That little insight had scared the hell out of him! The term ended and he and Sam graduated. Two days later, he, Jim, Sam, and the whole damned wedding party headed for some speck on the map known as Riverside, Iowa. The wedding went off without a hitch, and afterwards there was a party like Bill had never before seen. Strings of lights illuminated one whole corner of the massive yard, a band had been brought in, and there was no end in sight to the alcohol that flowed that night. Early that evening, Sam and Aurelan headed off to some unrevealed destination, and over the next few hours the rest of the guests began to slowly disappear. Even the band closed up shop and left sometime just after midnight. He and Jim were the only two left at the house, and both were more than just a little drunk. Jim was wandering around between the tables trying to find a bottle that still held a hefty shot of alcohol, when Bill had tried to get him to give it up for the evening and go to bed. Jim was having no part of it. By that time, Jim had gotten himself worked up into a pretty foul mood. "Jim, what the hell is wrong with you?" he screamed, after Jim had forcefully pushed him away. "You have the whole damned world on a fucking platter, and you are acting like you're miserable!" "Laid out on a fucking platter! That's pretty good, and pretty damned accurate!" Jim had yelled back, obviously beyond the point of making any sense. Jim found a bottle that seemed to suit his purpose and plopped down at one of the tables. He drained the rest of the contents into his cup and raised it in salute. "Here's to misery," he toasted before gulping a mouthful. Bill stood there watching him, and he saw something that he had never seen before on that face. This was more than a drunken stupor. The kid was hurting. Bill pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him. "Jim, what's got you down? Is it Sam getting married and leaving?" "No, God dammit! Of course not! It's that I know what he's found, I'll never have." "Jim, you don't know that. But you need to learn how to open up to people if you want anyone to get close to you. You keep everyone at arm's length. Until you can learn..." "Open up! That's a joke! You know what that gets you? That gets you screwed!" Jim yelled, flinging the cup into the yard with every bit of strength he could muster. He stood up, violently kicked over the chair, and nearly ran to the opposite edge of the yard, away from the strings of overhead lights, away from where Bill was sitting. Morrow was stunned. He had never seen Jim act like this. In all the years he'd known the kid, drunk or sober, in any situation, he had always been as cool-headed as they come, never letting his control slip. He watched the silhouette of Jim against the deep navy sky for several minutes before rising from the chair and crossing the distance to where he was standing. "Jim," he whispered, "what's wrong?" Slowly, Jim had turned to him and had shaken his head. "Nothing, Bill. It's...it's just what you said. Sam's gone and I never...I should'a told him...that's all." "Told him what?" Jim turned back toward the darkness of the nearly endless fields and raised his head to the sky. "Nothing, I guess. Just...that he meant so much to me and that I'm going to miss him...and you." The last two words came as nothing more than a sigh. Bill had taken a few steps, closing the gap between them, and placed his arm across Jim's shoulders. "Hey, kid, we're not going away for good. I promise. Sam knows how you feel. Everything will be all right." Jim had turned toward him, their faces only inches apart. "I'm not a kid, Bill. I haven't been for a long, long time. And no matter what you say, you are going away, and things will never be the same." Bill had reached up and stroked his hand through that golden hair. In all honesty, he hadn't realized how important he and Sam had been in Jim's life. And there seemed to be such a sadness about him that evening, he wasn't convinced that it was just Sam's leaving that had the kid down. "No, I guess you're not a kid, are you? And, yeah, I'm going to miss you, too," he said, trying to comfort him. He never was sure who had made the first move, but suddenly Jim was in his arms, that soft, inviting mouth pressed against his own. There had been something almost mystical about that night as they had stripped away each other's clothing and made love under the shelter of stars. Afterwards, lying together in the warmth of the summer evening, Jim's head on his chest, the smell of earth, new hay, clean air and the faint aroma of wild roses surrounding them, a feeling of quiet contentment seemed to settle over them. And Bill knew that given the chance, this was a feeling he could get used to. Jim had rolled over on his back and put one of his arms under his head. "I want that," he said, breaking the silence and pointing toward the sky. "You want what?" Bill asked. "That..." and pointing in different directions, he said "...and that...and that...and that. I want it all. I want to be able to get out there, to capture it all and hold it inside of me." Gazing upwards at the vista of the star field above them, Bill had then rolled so he was lying nearly on top of Jim. "You'll have it all...soon. Everything out there is going to belong to you. Something tells me that you're going to conquer space for as far as the eye can see." It wasn't until years later that he realized just how prophetic those words had been. Jim had turned his eyes from the sky and looked back at him. Even in the darkness, illuminated only by the multitude of stars above, those liquid eyes had seemed to catch the sparkling brilliance of each one. Jim's hand went to the back of Bill's neck and pulled him down. They lay together making love until the soft glow appearing on the horizon chased away the cascade of stars above. When a crew arrived to dismantle and clean the remnants of the wedding site from the house and property, they rose, dressed, and went to the house to eat, clean up, and get ready to depart for their assignments. As the highest-ranking senior mid-shipmen, Kirk had acquired an enviable assignment to the U.S.S. Republic for a six-month tour before he would return to the Academy and complete the requirements for graduation. Bill, his ensign bars newly attached to his uniform, was to report to the U.S.S. Constitution as the navigation officer. The evening before was not mentioned by either of them as they readied themselves and shuttled back to San Francisco. Discussions were kept to topics of assignments and the musings of where Sam and his new bride had scurried off to. Probably, they agreed, it was somewhere in the Antaries Triangle, since that was on the way to the research center on Deneva where Sam had accepted a position. Thinking back, it had been at this very starbase where they had said good-bye. "Take care of yourself, kid," Bill had choked out. He had no dreams that what they shared that night could be anything more, but knowing that didn't stop the pain in his chest. He suspected that even after time had healed what he was feeling at that moment, there would always be a small scar on his heart with Jim Kirk's name on it. He'd been right. As for Jim, any sign of vulnerability was gone, and he was as sealed behind that damned shield as tightly as ever. It was that wonderful, quick half-smile that bathed the face when Jim replied, "You know, Bill, you're the only one I've ever let get away with calling me 'kid'." "I know. Keep the wind at your back, okay?" "You, too, Bill," he replied. And like that, he was gone. The impermeable, resilient, kid...no, man...walked out of his life. Little did anyone suspect that it would take that reclusive Vulcan, the one who no one ever could get to know at the Academy, yet later became one of Starfleet's foremost scientist and officers, and a rabble-rousing physician to finally pry open the armor that Jim had encased himself in. It wasn't until years later, when Bill received a security clearance high enough to view the records, sketchy though they were, that he realized that Jim had been on Tarsus IV during that upheaval. He wondered why Sam had never mentioned it, wondered if he had even known. It must have been terrible for the kid, at the tender age of thirteen, to see the horrors that evidently took place. Looking back, Bill realized that it was being on that planet and probably witnessing his mother's death that had caused Jim to change. Coincidentally, years later, Kodos, the leader of that uprising, died on Kirk's ship, by all reports at the hands of his own daughter. Although aware of Jim's numerous accomplishments, their paths crossed rarely the next twenty years. It wasn't until Jim was promoted to Admiral and named Chief of Starfleet Operations that they were stationed together once more. But for those first years, Bill hardly recognize the empty being that showed up at staff meetings and social functions. The fact that they had even known each other before was barely acknowledged. However, after the near fiasco with the V'ger entity, and the return of both Spock and McCoy, Jim changed. Initially, Morrow had found Kirk's relationship with Spock and McCoy unusual, as most did. But after getting used to the idea, he'd been happy that Jim had finally found the continuity his life had seemed to lack before. That shell around him melted away as surely as the spring snows, and Bill watched Jim transform into the warm, caring man he had always suspected was hidden inside. They even had a chance one evening to talk about Sam, his and Aurelan's deaths, and the regrets that Jim had about that situation. Bill had watched the kid grow into one of the most powerful, dynamic individuals who ever graced the halls of Starfleet. And once more, he could call him friend. Bill, himself, had gone through several timed contracts, producing two sons of his own. He'd been lucky. He'd been around to watch them grow up and spend time with them. It was the one thing that he had wished Jim had been given the opportunity to experience. It wasn't until this situation came about--the Genesis device detonating and Spock, along with other crewmen, dead--that Bill had started some in-depth investigating. Surprisingly, he found out that Jim did have a son. All the information regarding David Marcus being Kirk's son was there in the record to be found; it just took a near act of the Federation Council to dig deep enough to find it and put all the pieces together. Bill could only hope that there were no more hidden pieces to this puzzle called James T. Kirk. His instincts, his history with the man, his gut, told him that Jim was a man of unquestionable honor. His training told him he had to proceed cautiously. Chapter 2/12 Jim was headed toward the docking bay where the senior officers and department heads were gathering. His heart felt as if it were pounding in his throat, each beat thrumming the names of his lovers in his ears. After the lift doors had closed, he leaned against the wall. He wanted to hold very still, wanted time to stop. It felt as if time was rushing past so quickly that he couldn't catch up. He needed time to catch his breath, to reflect, to think; yet, thinking about all that had happened was still too painful. Looking down, he realized his hands were visibly shaking. 'Hold it together, for just a little while longer,' he told himself. It was a mantra he had been chanting to himself for days. He took a few deep breaths, knowing that he had to get through this before he could follow the med team, and Bones, to the 'Fleet hospital. God! Bones had looked so pale, had been completely unresponsive when the techs placed him on the hovercart and took him away. Had he gone insane? Was he dying? These were all questions Jim wanted answers to now, not an hour down the road. If Spock was here, he could turn these duties over to him, but...if Spock was here, Bones probably wouldn't be in this shape. The doors opened on the level that held his destination and he exited. Spock... Just thinking the name seemed to rip at something inside of him. It didn't seem possible that it had been a week since he'd watched Spock die in the belly of this ship, trapped inside the containment chamber. One week since he'd waited outside the enclosure until it was safe to retrieve the burned body. One week since he and Bones had prepared Spock's body for his funeral, and then had to stand and watch his photon-tube as it was jettisoned from the ship. One week. And the pain was so fresh it felt like it had been no more than moments before. Yet, it seemed as if it had been a lifetime since that last time together in Spock's cabin. It was the last kiss they had shared. Had he only known... 'STOP IT!' Jim silently shouted at himself, halting the well of despair that threatened to consume him. The evening they had rescued the Reliant crew from Ceti Alpha V, he had found a small glimmer of enthusiasm, nothing more than a fragile thread of optimism. He and David had found a plane of understanding that, although didn't bridge the years they had been separated, had started them toward a path of acceptance. During those few precious hours of peace, it seemed all that Spock had been started to settle around him like a mist of comfort. Even Bones, after the erratic behavior he had demonstrated, for just a brief respite of time, had seemed to become more himself. There was just a moment prior to the rescue of the Reliant crew when he and Bones stood in the transporter room and their eyes had met. A spark of recognition and understanding seemed to flash between them. But that brief respite of tranquility had been as elusive as a cloud before Jim was once more plunged into the well of hopelessness that, since that fateful day, had become his nearly constant companion. As quickly as it had seemed to appear, the moment of acknowledgment between him and Bones had faded. Since then, McCoy had returned to being every bit as distant as he had been since the funeral. If anything, he was even more closed off in a haze of grief and denial the likes of which Jim had never before seen. Jim had already lost one man who had shared his life these years, and now it was a real possibility that he was losing the other, and there seemed to be no way to stop it. During the docking procedures, he had rushed to Spock's cabin after a security breach was detected. Arriving, it was obvious that the seal had been broken and the door appeared to have been manually pried apart. With security guards stationed outside, Jim had stepped cautiously into the room. For the briefest moment, he had imagined that it was Spock's voice calling out to him. "Jim, why did you leave me on Genesis?" There, bathed in the dark shadows, was a man seated in the chair. Jim had leapt toward the figure, grabbed him up, and turned him into the light. Before him was not the face of Spock, but a haggard, gaunt, wild-eyed McCoy staring back at him. Jim had shaken him. "Bones! Have you lost your mind?" he'd shouted. "Help me Jim," Bones had pleaded. "Take me home..." "Bones, we are home!" Jim had insisted. "Then it's not too late. Climb the steps, Jim. Climb the steps of Mount Seleya." "Mount Seleya?" Jim was holding him by the shoulders, still trying to shake some sense into him. "Bones, Mount Seleya is on Vulcan," he had insisted to McCoy. Jim refused to believe that McCoy was so disoriented that he didn't know what station, what planet, they were pulling into. "Remember..." Bones had gasped just before collapsing in his arms. How the hell could he do anything else? Memories were all he had left. After calling frantically for the medics, Jim had sunk to the floor still holding him, stroking McCoy's head, cradling the limp body to him and pleading with him to hang on. "Bones...you can't leave me, too. I need you!" he whispered. He looked down at the unresponsive man he held in his arms. He pressed his lips to the ear of his lover. "Hold on, Bones...please hold on!" But the vacant eyes had just stared up at him, no response to let Jim know if he was getting through to him at all. The medics arrived, placed Leonard on a stretcher and rushed him away. As Jim had left Spock's cabin, he had turned at the door to look back. There were so many memories. "I will remember," he'd whispered, as he reached for the light control and plunged the room once more into darkness. There had to be something he could do, something in his power to pull his lover out of this. McCoy had made only one request of him in the time between Spock's death and arriving in Earth's orbit; that was to be returned to Genesis in an attempt to find the emotions that had been ripped from him on the day of Spock's funeral. Jim had tried to convince Bones that what they had lost couldn't be found on that planet, but somewhere in his heart instead. But he couldn't let Bones suffer, not like this. If it took taking him to Genesis, then dammit, he would see he got there, if he had to cradle him in his arms the whole way. Whatever it took, he wasn't going to lose Bones too. The bay doors slid open when Jim approached. He wanted to hand the ship over to Rohm as quickly as possible. But he was taken aback to see it wasn't Admiral Rohm waiting for the crew. It was Bill Morrow, named Starfleet's Commander just days before, who had come to oversee the handing over of the ship. That didn't make sense. After all, Admiral Rohm was in charge of anything to do with maintenance, certainly the department that would oversee the repairs on the ship. But the reason for Bill Morrow's presence would soon be blatantly clear to him. They were all shocked to discover that the Enterprise was to be decommissioned. The news of this newest loss hit Jim square in the middle of his already aching gut. Sure, she'd been through a lot in the last days, but her years of service were far from over. And considering the void that had been created with the destruction of the Alexander, and the fact that the Excelsior was only in the first stages of test runs, Jim felt the decision to scrap the Enterprise was a hasty, ill-conceived one. But his argument for her to be repaired fell on deaf ears. It wasn't until Jim mentioned returning to the Genesis planet that he began to realize that whatever was going on was contrived. The crew was advised that not only had Genesis become a quarantined planet, but a forbidden subject. Jim was as aware as any of the destructive capabilities of the project if it was allowed to fall into the wrong hands. That had been made blatantly clear to all of them recently. Stopping that destructive force from obliterating the Enterprise and her crew was what got Spock killed. Even Bones had pointed out the detrimental possibilities when Jim had first revealed the existence of the device to Spock and McCoy. But the potential for advancement within the Federation far outweighed the risks associated with the apparatus. How could something that could solve the food shortage problem, expand the Federation's presence throughout areas of the galaxy where expansion had been impossible before, and eliminate the over-population problem on other plants, become the center of an intergalactic conflict? There was something about this that Jim didn't understand. It wasn't just that there were pieces of the puzzle missing, there were gaping holes in it! Something was going on that Morrow wasn't telling him, and Jim intended to find out what it was. After the crew was dismissed, he cornered his long-time friend. "Bill, I would like a moment of your time," Jim stated, once he was certain that they were the only two left in the shuttle bay. Morrow nodded and said, "I agree, Admiral Kirk, we need to talk." Jim had known Bill Morrow since he was a plebe. Never in all of those years had they been on any but a first name basis except where matters of formality demanded it. Hell, to this day, Bill had an unnerving tendency to call him 'kid' in private! Jim decided that everyone was losing their minds. Maybe it was some kind of radiation sickness that was affecting the whole damned quadrant! Nothing else could explain the reception he was getting from Bill Morrow. "Bill, what the hell's going on?" Jim asked. It was a no nonsense tone that replied. "There are matters that need to be addressed. Serious matters. Kirk, I need all information you have concerning Genesis." This was damned peculiar. "Bill, you have all of my tapes. And the ship's logs are at your disposal as well." "We have already retrieved the ship's logs as well as your command tapes. Our security team has already extracted those from the ship's computers and they have been placed under a security lock. You are ordered to have no further access to them. In addition, we request that you turn over your personal logs. However, I need to advise you that any information you choose to hand over is subject to use in judicial proceedings. You may wish to seek the advice of an attorney." "What? An attorney? What the hell is all of this about?" "Admiral Kirk, it's only through Executive Privilege that I'm discussing this with you instead of letting the Office of Legal Affairs handle it. I'll ask you, again. Will you consent to hand over your personal logs?" "I don't understand. Hell, yes, take my logs, take anything you damned well please, but tell me what's going on!" "Admiral Kirk...Jim, to what extent were you involved with the development of the Genesis device?" "The Genesis device? Is that what this is about?" "Again, to what extent were you..." "I heard you! The development? None. I didn't know anything about it until a year ago when Carol Marcus contacted me regarding funding through Starfleet for its expansion. I looked into it, and when I saw it was a valid proposal capable of addressing some of the Federation's most pressing issues, I presented the information to the Joint Chiefs. Hell, Bill, you were there when I made the presentation. Why?" "And you were not involved with the design of the device, itself?" "No, not at all. Dammit! What the hell's going on?" "Jim, we have discovered that there were substances; dangerous, illegal substances, which are expressly forbidden by the Federation, used in the development of the device. Were you aware of this?" "No, of course not! What substances?" "Jim, isn't it true that David Marcus is your son?" "Yes, of course. I've included that in my personal information." Jim knew that Bill had dug deeply into his personal file if he had come across that information. It wasn't that it was hidden, just referred to in such a way that David wouldn't have been contacted should anything have happened to him. There had been several times over the years when he started to tell Bill about the situation with Carol Marcus, and the fact that he had fathered a son by her, but the time had never seemed right. And even though he trusted Bill Morrow, Jim never wanted word to get to David about his parentage in the form of a rumor. The fewer people who knew, the less chance there was of that happening. "Were you aware that he was dealing in protomatter when designing the Genesis device?" "Protomatter! Dear God...no, I had no idea! Are you sure about this?" "We're sure. Are you certain that your records will show you have not collaborated on this project?" "Yes, of course. I only got involved when the Genesis team was seeking the Federation's cooperation in expanding the project. I went over that proposal with a fine-toothed comb, even sent it to the 'Fleet Corp of Engineers for their review. There's nothing in the proposal that included information regarding protomatter. Bill, this is insane! There has to be some kind of mistake." Morrow looked at him carefully, as if trying to decide his guilt or innocence. "Jim, there's no mistake. We've arrested the supplier. Twenty-four hours ago, a frigate from the Seltira region was boarded en route to the Mutara system; the crew and ship were detained. Onboard was found a container of protomatter." "Bill, that doesn't mean it was intended for the Regula 1 science lab. There must be two dozen inhabited planets in that system along with a handful of outposts and trading centers, some with less than stellar reputations. Not to mention that the corridor through there is known as Smuggler's Alley, used for access to any part of the galaxy!" "Jim, we have a confession from one of the crew. It was headed for the Regula 1 science laboratory." Jim started to protest, but Morrow held up a hand and stopped him. "There's more. We confiscated the frigate's records and there is evidence that there had been a previous transport of three liters of the substance to the same lab. Our informant has named David Marcus as the recipient. Jim, I shouldn't be telling you this, but we have traced the money used for the purchase back to an account that you have contributed substantially to." Suddenly the conversation in his cabin six nights before was beginning to make sense. Carol had cut David off when he questioned the trust fund that had been used. 'Do you know the implications...?' David had asked Carol that evening before she abruptly stopped him. "The trust fund," Jim muttered. "Trust fund?" "If you check my financial records, you'll see that I've been contributing money to a trust fund since right after David was born. It was to be used by Carol Marcus, or, now that he's of age, for David to use in any way they saw fit. I had no restrictions placed on the manner in which it was distributed, leaving those decisions up to his mother until he was twenty-one." "So, he would have had access to that account for the last two years?" "Yes..." Jim admitted. "Even with this information, do you want to remain steadfast in your claim that you didn't conspire with your son on the development of this device?" "Bill, it's true that David is my son, a fact that he was unaware of until...well, until the day of the Genesis detonation. Until the day we arrived at Regula 1, I had neither seen nor talked to David since he was seven years old. Carol was the one who contacted me about Federation assistance with the project. And THAT is the full extent of my involvement. God dammit, Bill! You know me better than that! If I'd suspected anyone was considering using a substance like that, I would have done everything in my power to stop them, whether it was my son or not." "I hope so, Jim. I really do hope so," Bill Morrow answered genuinely. "What's going to happen now?" Jim asked, his voice reflecting the defeat he was feeling. "Dr. Carol Marcus has been detained and is being questioned. Her involvement is being thoroughly investigated." "Does David know?" "No, we do not want him alerted before we are in a position to question him. We will be sending a ship to intercept the Grissom once it leaves Genesis. He will be taken into custody at that time." "Bill, I want to be there when that happens." "Not possible, Jim. This is a formal investigation and is now in the hands of Federation Council. Jim, we've known each other for most of our lives; your brother was one of my closest friends. I've never known you to be anything other than a man of honor both personally and professionally. I'm inclined to believe that you had no knowledge of this. But you must realize that all aspects of this have to be fully explored. If the charges are proven and there is a conviction, I can safely say imprisonment is a certainty for any and all involved." "Dammit! Bill, what I can do?" "The only advice I can offer is to get a good attorney. He's going to need one. Jim, with all else that has happened, you know that I don't bear this news gladly. I know this is difficult. All of us at Headquarters understand the loss you have just suffered with the death of Captain Spock. I know what he meant to you. I hope that you and Commander McCoy can find a way to cope with his loss as well as this situation." Jim looked at Bill and shook his head before turning away. "McCoy's not dealing with anything at the moment. He has been taken to the medical center," he said, sadly. "What happened?" Morrow asked, his sincere concern evident. "I don't know, Bill. Some type of collapse. I won't know any more until I've had the chance to get there and see how he's doing." "I really am sorry. I do hope for the best for him, and for you. Jim, I know how hard this, all of this, is on you. But don't let this destroy you, destroy all you've stood for." Jim nodded. There was nothing else to be said. One by one, the building blocks of his life were being pushed out from under him. It was as if he was in a free fall, and the ground was nowhere in sight. Morrow laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jim, there's something else...I hesitate to tell you this, but the media is clamoring for any information regarding the death of Captain Spock, and I'm afraid this will leak out soon. I don't want you to hear this from a news vid." "What? What else could there possibly be?" "They've started scanning the surface of Genesis. Before my coming onboard, Command received in encoded message from the Grissom. It seems that they have detected a metallic cylinder on the surface of the planet." "Spock?" Jim asked in disbelief. "His burial tube?" "That's what the team believes. It seems to have soft landed." "How could that be? It should have either burned up in the atmosphere or bounced off into space." "It's believed that the gravitational forces may have been in flux at the time, allowing it to pass through the atmosphere. They won't know for sure unless Captain Esteban authorizes a landing party. At last report, he hadn't made that decision." "And if Esteban does send a team planet-side?" "If it is the burial tube, it will be interned on the planet, with full honors, of course." Morrow watched Jim. Beneath a few lines that the years had added to that face, he saw a look that took him back thirty years. It was the face of the kid, sitting at a table in a yard in Iowa, pain etched across those handsome features. He never knew the reason for such pain then; he was more than aware of the reasons now. It was all he could do to refrain from placing an arm across the shoulders and telling him, 'Kid, everything will be all right.' But he was the Commander of Starfleet, and there were thirty years that separated then and now, and there was little he could do. That didn't stop the stinging feeling he felt behind his eyes, or the fact that he had to clear his throat before asking, "Are you going to be all right?" Jim nodded. He turned and looked at the man. For just an instant, he wanted to have Morrow comfort him as he had done once before, a very long time ago. But that wasn't possible. "I'm fine," he answered. Morrow turned, leaving him alone in the shuttle bay. Spock...his body hadn't burned up in the atmosphere but was lying out there on that planet. And David... As much as he had wanted it, as much as they both had wanted it, it was too late to bridge the years they had lost. It was much too late to help guide this young man to adulthood, to save him from what was to be. The Enterprise... The one woman he had ever let fully capture his heart was to be turned into scrap. And Bones...God, he had to pull himself together so he could get to him. But it seemed as if a circle of defeat was closing around him, ripping away all that he held dear. It felt like he was being left with nothing to hold on to. Chapter 3/12 They had transported Bones to 'Fleet Medical and Jim had gone there immediately after his discussion with Morrow. Directed to the area where Bones had been taken, and expecting the worst, it didn't take long to find the exam room where he was being held. All Jim had to do was follow the path of disgruntled attendants and listen for the room where there seemed to be the greatest uproar taking place. Even before he rounded the corner, he heard the baritone rumblings, an unmistakable tone that he had become well acquainted with over the years, wafting toward him with the same gentleness that would accompany an avalanche. Although the words were indistinguishable, there was no disguising the unpleasantness in which they were spoken. Neither was the visage of the nurse leaving the room, her face drawn into a tight frown, the words being murmured under her breath consisting mostly of language that would make an Orion trader blush. The fact that Bones was alert enough to create such a scene flooded Jim with relief. He may be wrecking havoc with the medical personnel, but at least it meant he wasn't the unresponsive shell that Jim had watched being carried from the ship just over an hour before. Jim looked at the viewer on the outside of the door and felt the tension in his body relax somewhat when he confirmed with his own eyes that Bones was sitting on the gurney, awake and vigilant. It was safe to say, however, that he looked anything but cheerful. Cautiously, Jim opened the door and stepped inside. "Bones?" he called as he stepped inside the room. "Dammit, Jim!" McCoy bellowed as soon as Jim was in his line of sight. "Tell that fucking ignoramus out there that I'm fine and to let me go! There's not a God damned thing wrong with me that a little rest won't cure!" "Bones, settle down. You collapsed on the ship, and I for one want them to do whatever it takes to make sure that you're okay." "Jim, I'm fine. A good meal and a night's sleep and I'll be right as rain. Hell, we've been through a lot lately. I haven't been eating or sleeping. That's all there is to it." Jim watched him carefully. He didn't seem all that different, considering where he was. He'd been almost as disagreeable when he had been in the hospital on the Deltan Station. The door to the room opened, and Jim noted that the doctor that came into the small room was about the same age as his son. "Good news, Doctor McCoy. Everything checks out and you are free to go." "Well, it's about damned time!" McCoy exclaimed, hopping down from the bed and grabbing his clothing. "Doctor, are you sure he's okay?" Jim asked, hearing the surprise in his own voice. Bones seemed himself for now, but the man he'd seen in Spock's quarters was far from okay. "Hey, Jim! Just whose side are ya on here? He said I'm free to go, so...let's go!" The young doctor turned to Jim. "He seems fine, Admiral Kirk. We've run a series of basic physical and psych exams. Everything reads normal. Exhaustion is the preliminary diagnosis. I'll want to see him back here in a week, but he'll be okay going home as long as he takes it easy. We've put him on heavy tranquilizers and he needs to rest for a few days. According to the information in his chart, his weight hasn't picked up as much as had been hoped since his last exam, but he can work on that." "See, Jim, wha'd I tell ya? A meal and a good night's sleep is all I need." Jim wasn't as sure as the doctor seemed to be that Bones was fine, but he did have to admit that he appeared much more like himself than he had since the day of Spock's death. Maybe Bones had finally gotten himself together. Leonard changed and they left the facility. Jim hailed a flitter and the men entered the cab. Jim started to key the address of their apartment into the auto-shuttle, but Bones stopped him. "Make that the Officer's Residence building, will ya?" "Officer's Residence? Why do you want to stop there? The doctor ordered you to rest." Leonard reached over and keyed the address and the flitter sped away from the ground. "I will, Jim. That's where I've taken an apartment." "An apartment? When?" "I arranged it several days ago. Everything's set for me to move in." Jim's gut tightened. "Bones, you have a home. It's where we've lived together for over ten years." "Jim, we all need time to adjust to what's happened. It'll be better if I move out, at least for a while. Later? Well, we'll see." "Bones..." Jim sighed. He reached over and laid his hand on McCoy's arm, but Leonard pulled his arm away with such assertiveness that, even with the way McCoy had been acting lately, it took Jim by surprise. The rest of the short trip was traveled in silence. The flitter settled down at the front of the tall, sprawling complex. McCoy got out and so did Jim, ready to follow him inside, but the doctor turned back and said, "Jim, don't make this harder on either of us than it already is." "I'm not the one making this harder, Bones! I don't understand why we can't work this out, get through this together. What am I supposed to do? Just give you up, too?" Leonard nodded. "Yeah, Jim. That's exactly what you're supposed to do." Jim's voice cracked as he replied, "I can't do that. I happen to worry about you...I love you." Leonard looked away uncomfortably when Jim said he loved him. It was obvious that he didn't feel the same, or wish to discuss Jim's feelings. As if ignoring the last statement, he answered, "Don't worry about me. I'll rest and see how things go from there. I'll be in shape when you're ready to take the ship back to Genesis." Jim hadn't wanted to break this news to McCoy, not now. He expected Leonard to take the information hard. "About that..." "What?" "The Enterprise has been decommissioned, and Genesis has been quarantined to all approaching vessels. Going back there isn't possible, at least for the time being." Surprisingly, Bones barely flinched. He looked away, sighed, and then looked back at Jim. "I guess that's it, then," he shrugged. "It doesn't have to be. What we've lost didn't get shot into space. We still have each other if you'll give it a chance." McCoy looked down and shook his head. "It's over, Jim. Face it." "How do you expect me to face losing you, too? Sorry, Doctor, you may not remember what we've been to each other for the last ten years--hell, much longer than that--but I do. If you think you're going to get rid of me that easily, you're mistaken." Jim breathed a sigh of frustration when the only response he received was a stare devoid of any emotion. He stalled, knowing there was something else he needed to tell Bones. Morrow was right. A news vid was no place to hear this. "There's one other thing," Jim stated, his voice growing quieter. "Bill Morrow advised me that the photon-tube may have been located on the surface of Genesis. There's no assurances at this time, but it's possible that it soft landed." "I know." Jim remembered the night in McCoy's office when he was so adamant about going back to Genesis. "You knew his body was on the planet when we were on the ship, didn't you? How?" "I can't answer that. I just know it didn't burn up." Jim stared at his friend, trying to decipher what was going on behind those cold, blue eyes. Whatever it was, Bones wasn't going to give him any hint. "Bones, what we had, what Spock was, is still in here," he said, tapping his chest. "That's where he'll live from now on. That's the legacy he's left the two of us to share, if you will allow it. It isn't in his body's shell, or what's left of it, in that tube." "Jim, the 'shell' as you call it, is just fine. With the levels of radiation that he was exposed to, his body will still be perfectly intact for the next hundred years! But you're right about him being gone. That's not what I'm after. I'm after that part of me that was left back there." "Bones, I have to believe that you're going through this because you miss him, miss the bond we shared." "I don't miss him, and I don't miss us. You know as well as I do that I was never a full bondmate. Even after it strengthened, my mind fought against it. It was just a few nights ago that Spock offered me a way to get out, remember? I know now, that if all things had remained the same, I would've taken him up on it." McCoy's words stabbed at Jim. It was true that Spock had offered to go with Leonard to Vulcan and have the bond between them dissolved, but Leonard had been adamant about not wanting that. Why couldn't he remember the feelings that had been between them just those few nights before? Whatever was going on, he wasn't going to get through to McCoy standing here on the street. He needed rest; they both did. Maybe in a few days they would be able to talk about this again. With a sigh of surrender, Jim asked, "You want me to come up with you, see you get settled in?" "No. I've ordered everything I need for the time being." "Promise me one thing. Give me your word that you won't do anything rash. That you'll stay put, eat, and rest." Bones looked up at him and smiled ever so slightly. "I promise. Hell, with an arm full of the stuff they gave me, I'm not in any shape to do anything else right now. I'm just gonna stay home and sleep. You take care of yourself, too, okay?" Something in his tone made this sound too damned final. How could he refer to a place as cold and lonely as this building as his home? But the man standing before him was an adult. Jim sure didn't have the right to tie him up and drag him back to the apartment they had shared, even though the idea had certainly crossed his mind. "Sure, Bones," was all Jim could manage around the lump in his throat as he watched the man who had been his lover, his bondmate, a part of his soul, turn and walk away without so much as a glance back. Once Bones was out of sight, Jim slid back into the shuttle. He keyed the address of his apartment, but immediately canceled it. He sat there staring at the pad, the request for an entry flashing at him. The bright green display became a blur as the word "Destination" kept blinking. Destination, a purpose, a target, an objective, an aim, none of which he seemed to have at the moment. He was floating inside an agonizing void, and had no concept of which direction to turn. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, the despair of all that had happened, and was still happening, swirling around him. It wasn't until the shuttle's control panel beeped, requesting an address that he was brought back to the present. He looked toward the building and back at the pad. Some spark of anger fired within him. He was a man of action, God dammit! He wasn't one to stand by and let events control him. Some things he had to accept. Spock was dead; there was nothing that could be done about that. Not that his absence didn't hurt like hell, a pain that would likely never go away, but even this he would find a way to get through. And Bones may think he'd had the last word, but this was only a reprieve. Jim wasn't done with him yet! And David...according to Morrow, his son had himself in a hell of a mess. But Jim was a man who knew a bit about tight spots, and that there were times when things weren't always as they appear. He reached for the pad and keyed his destination with determination. For the moment, he had a purpose. He took the flitter to the closest accessible point in which he could gain access to Commemorative Plaza, located in the heart of San Francisco. He slid his chit into the slot and released the shuttle. For a three square block area, no vehicles, other than those used for emergencies, were allowed. But he didn't mind the short walk. It gave him time to collect his thoughts. Locating the building, he entered and walked through the glass, multi-level atrium until he was standing in front of the lift. He rocked impatiently on the balls of his feet while waiting for the door to open. Once inside, he stated the name and felt the swift motion of the lift as it jetted off toward the 57th floor. The lift came to a stop; he exited and walked straight to a set double doors. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the large, brass handle, pressed down, and exerted enough pressure to allow him to gain entry to the large, tastefully extravagant suite. The atmosphere seemed to scream, 'You better either have a hell of a lot of clout, or a hell of a lot of money to be here'. Jim had both. And he wasn't afraid to use them. "Admiral Kirk," the woman seated behind the long mahogany shelf and brass partition acknowledged him. At first he was surprised that she would remember him, after all, he had been here only a few times over the last ten years. But he realized that his face, along with any stock photos available of the Enterprise crew, were being flashed across the news reports almost constantly. Hell, there probably wasn't a soul in the quadrant who didn't recognize them at the moment. Jim nodded politely to her. "Is she in?" he asked. "She was on a call, but I believe she has just finished up. Let me check." She keyed the comm beside her and stated, "Admiral Kirk is in the office. Are you available?" There was no response from the desk unit. Instead, there was the sound of his name coming from behind the woman. "Jim!" "Areel," Jim responded. "Jim, I am so sorry...I was going to contact you when you had time to settle in," she stated, her smile one of genuine friendship, and sadness, at seeing him. "Thank you, but that's not why I'm here. Can we talk?" Jim responded, his smile genuine, but not as broad. "Certainly. Please, come to my office." Looking toward the receptionist, she said, "No calls." He followed Areel Shaw past the desk and down a short hallway to a large door that separated her office from the corridor. At one time a member of the Starfleet JAG division, and suffering her only loss in an attempt to prosecute Jim for the death of Ben Finney, she had since resigned from the Service and setup a private practice in the city. Not long after Jim, Spock, and Leonard had returned to Earth from their bonding ceremony, they had met with Areel to have their estates setup. They were, at the time, about to commence on missions of a most extreme nature, and each wanted to make sure their affairs were in order, considering the turn in their relationship. It had been only on the rare occasion that Jim had seen her since. Once he had entered her office, she shut the door. "Jim, I was so sorry to hear. Of course, it's all over the media. I hope he didn't suffer." "Thank you, Areel. It wasn't an easy death, but he saved everyone on the ship." "He was a fine officer, and a good man. He'll be missed by everyone who knew him. Is that why you're here? The estate?" "No, I'm not ready to deal with that yet. And, when the time comes, you know what to do with that. It's all been laid out in the earlier documents." "Whenever you say. As per his wishes, all personal effects will go to you and Leonard McCoy, at your discretion, and his accounts will be used to set up an educational trust for those who would otherwise be unable to travel and study at the Academy." Jim nodded. "I know. I just can't...deal with that, not yet. It's another matter that brings me here today. Areel, I'm going to need the best attorney in the galaxy." "Jim, my love, what's happened?" Over the next thirty minutes, Kirk explained the situation that David, and he, found themselves in. Areel was one of the few individuals aware that he was David's father. He'd been a young, brash lieutenant on the Farragut when they had first met. The attraction between them had been instantaneous, and understandable. He had been quite aware of his looks in those days, certainly not afraid to capitalize on them when it came to beautiful women, which had been his preference at the time, and she was every bit his equal. She was beautiful, still was for that matter, and could match wits with him better than anyone he had ever met before. As was his usual modus operandi, he had no intention of getting emotionally involved, but she had challenged his resolve as no one else before had been able to. Even so, it had taken several months before he had begun to even minimally open up to her. It was then that he told her he had a two-year-old son, and the circumstances of his birth. It was one of the reasons why trust wasn't something that he gave easily. Carol Marcus, among others that he didn't discuss, had screwed him up badly in that department. And in the long run, Areel left him because he could never give her the trust she deserved. She listened intently as Jim told her of the situation he was now in. Once he had finished, he breathed a sigh of defeat and leaning over, his arms supported on his knees, he felt his shoulders slump under the weight of these last days. "Jim..." she sighed, her profound concern evident in her voice. "I'll admit it looks bad, especially for David. But they only have the word of an admitted criminal and records that were confiscated in a questionable manner. We will fight this with everything we've got." He raised his head and looked at her. "Areel, if he's guilty... I'm not here asking you to get him off on a technicality." "And if he's not, I'm not going to let Starfleet railroad him. You know as well as I do that the Federation loves to make examples of cases like this. Sam Cogley has retired, but we worked together for a lot of years. I'm sure he'd love nothing more than to sink his teeth into something like this. For all his eccentricities, there's none better than Samuel T. Cogley at breaking down the walls that Starfleet erects around these kind of cases." With that, Jim had to smile. Well, Sam had certainly pulled his butt out of the fire once before. "Sounds great, Areel," he said with less than resounding conviction. "I want him represented by the best. No matter the outcome." "I know, Jim. Let me look into it and see what information Starfleet really has. From what you tell me, they aren't going to lay any charges until the Grissom is through exploring the Genesis planet. Once they do, we will have a full picture of the charges and the consequences. Until then, I'll see what information I can dig up quietly. I still have some friends on the inside," she stated confidently. He stood up. "Thank you, Areel. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help with this." "Jim, you and Leonard just take care of each other. You have enough to deal with right now. I know it's easier said than done, but try not to worry about this. Let me handle it. I'll be in touch in a day or two. In the meantime, the only advice I can give you is to comply with their wishes and just generally keep your nose clean. There's no way they're going to be able to link you to this unless they try some mighty creative tactics, and that, my dear, will put them on my playing field." Jim nodded. He had already told Bill Morrow about McCoy, he sure didn't feel like going into it with Areel, as well--at least not today. "Where are you off to now?" she asked. Was it just nine days ago that Spock had asked him the same thing outside the simulator chamber? It seemed impossible that his life had changed so much in such a short time. Just as he did the day Spock has asked him where he was headed, he rasped the reply, "Home." |