| New: "Precious Pearls" Under the Sun series Part 8 Author: T'Thrill Series: TOS Romance Codes: K/S/Mc, Su/C, K/C, Mc/Sa, Am Rating: NC-17 m/m, m/f, f Summary: New - 2003. Exiled on Vulcan, the crew has been presented with a few surprises. Each must find a way of handling them in their own way. "Precious Pearls," is the eighth part in the Under the Sun series. The first seven installments are: "Skylights" "Life is but a Dream" "The Burning Sands" "Easy Does It" "The Winter of Despair" "Praying for Time" "Circles in the Sand" If you have not read these installments of this series, you may wish 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, m/f, and f 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 ASCEM, BLTS, and COCO-SSD, provided that header, disclaimers, my name, and email address are all attached. All others please ask. My email address is -- TThrill1612@aol.com Acknowledgments--As always, I wish to whole-heartedly thank my two wonderful betas. Selek, with his wonderful patience and generosity--not to mention his knowledge regarding the Vulcan homeworld, language (his Vulcan Language Dictionary is a valuable reference source for anyone writing about Vulcans), and traditions--makes writing a pleasure. And MizzMarcee, who will often stay up with me most of the night and be a sounding board as we IM ideas back and forth. What can I say, girl? You are not only a wonderful, thorough beta, but also one of my closest (real-life) friends. Together, these two people spend countless hours combing through my stories to make me a better writer and to give you, the reader, a more enjoyable story. My sincere appreciation to you both! Chapter 1 Jim palmed the control for the cargo bay hatch on the Bounty, waited the few seconds until it was fully extended, and then stepped toward the opening. Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura accompanied him down the ramp and onto the landing pad. 40 Eridani A was just nestling against the Vulcan horizon of the seemingly endless desert that lay stretched out beyond the L'Langon Mountain range. It had been another hot, grueling day of work on their captured Klingon ship, filled with repeated bouts of frustration and aggravation, when little other than the basics had been accomplished. "Mr. Scott," Jim said, addressing his chief engineer. "I have some ideas I would like to discuss with you. Something that just might speed up our progress." Looking toward all of them, he added, "I want all of you here first thing in the morning at oh-eight hu...make that oh-two hundred, VhR." He noticed the others nodding their heads ruefully. They had all been trying to adjust to the Vulcan V'hral in the last month, but found themselves still slipping into Standard on occasion. The biggest adjustment to the local time had been calculating the day by the appearance of first sunlight. Oh-two hundred would put the crew here a Vulcan hour after the never-varying dawn. "Admiral, I can stay this evening, if ye need me," Scotty offered. "Aye, sair," Pavel interjected, enthusiastically. "I can stay, too. I'm really not that tired." Jim had to smile, especially at the Russian. Even after all these years, Pavel still seemed to possess that incessant streak of youthful eagerness. "I appreciate the offer, gentlemen, but I'd rather take a fresh stab at it in the morning. Besides, before we get started I want to get a complete picture of where we stand. Reports from all areas, as it were." Pavel nodded and then turned toward the shuttle. Once the other three had gone on ahead, Kirk turned to the man who had been his right hand for the last weeks. "Mr. Scott, will you please inform Dr. McCoy that I expect him here as well?" Jim noticed that Scotty slowed his pace until the others had boarded the shuttle. It was only when the other three members of the crew were out of earshot that the Scotsman stopped and turned. "Jim, are ye sure ye dinna want to contact him yer'self? I'll not be askin' ye what happened, but I know he's been as down in the mouth as anyone these last weeks. Would'nae it be better if ye let him know about the meeting...personally?" Jim stood speechless for a moment, startled by Scotty's directness. There was an unwritten rule in Starfleet that you don't ask too many questions, and you give those around you the space they may need. This was as close as anyone had come to breaching that code since the battle with Khan. It was obvious from the expression on Scott's face that he knew he was crossing that line. Had they been aboard the Enterprise, Scotty's question would have been rewarded by a sharp reprimand by his CO and an order to mind his own damn business. The fact that Jim hadn't done so spoke volumes of how their lives and working relationships had dramatically changed during these months. Of course the crew had noticed. It was obvious to anyone who knew him that there had been some kind of break between Jim and his lover, Leonard McCoy. But there was no way to explain himself to Scott or the others. The time wasn't right. Instead, he let his body language speak for him by squaring his shoulders in a determined stance and looking his engineer directly in the face. "It would be best if you gave him the message, Scotty. I really don't want to have to discuss...other issues." It was the best explanation he could give, for now. "I would'nae dare tell ye how t' run your business, but..." 'But'...it was obvious that the Scotsman was about to do just that. Jim turned and walked once more toward the open door of the shuttle, giving Scotty no other option than to follow. "Thanks, Scotty, and I appreciate that," Jim interrupted, bringing any further opportunity for comment to a halt. "Aye...I'll inform him, sir," Scotty answered, a sigh conceding his desire to say more. With a weary shake of his head, the engineer reached for the handle next to the shuttle's hatch. "Thanks. Sleep well," Jim added, as Scotty hoisted himself into the vehicle. "You too, sir," Scotty replied. Jim pulled the door down and sealed the hatch from the outside. Thumping his palm on the hot metal, he looked through the window to see Scotty give a thumb's up. He gave an enervated grin and then backed off as the small craft began to rise from the desert floor. He watched until the shuttle had disappeared, then turned and tilted his head toward the peak of the mountain that shot up beside the ship's landing site. Occasionally he would spot acolytes from Gol as they walked the path that led across the crest. From the first day they began working on the Klingon vessel, a visual scan of the summit had been Jim's morning ritual. And, since taking up residence onboard, this was how he ended each evening, as well. One figure in particular he always searched for, but he had yet to see the tall, willowy outline of the man he knew he would recognize in a heartbeat. Assuring himself that there was no one on the mountaintop, he looked back toward the Klingon ship that had become his home these past weeks. Jim hated the idea of heading back inside, but he had to be practical. He had to keep himself and the others moving toward his goal of getting the ship ready. He needed to prepare something to eat and then turn in for the night. Most evenings he stayed busy working on the ship long after the others had left, but he knew he needed rest to relieve some of the tension that was wrapped around his shoulders like a mantle. Still, he couldn't get Scotty's comment out of his mind. It had definitely struck a nerve in him that was difficult to explain away, even to himself. The truth of the matter was, he and McCoy had drifted apart. No, that wasn't quite right. Actually, Jim had pushed Bones away with everything he had left in him, pure and simple. Since they had begun work on the ship, it had been necessary for McCoy to spend most of his time at the Vulcan Science Academy, some seventy kilometers away. The ship didn't have the equipment he needed to decipher the medical logs, and there was a lot of beneficial information about the Klingon race that the doctor was slowly divesting from those records. However, in those first couple of weeks, McCoy had always managed one or two impromptu appearances during the day, usually sporting one feigned excuse or another to explain his reason for transporting over--but fooling no one. He needed the company of those who were familiar, and was willing to risk having his 'molecules scrambled' to get it. But perhaps even more conspicuous was his absence for more than a month--since the evening Jim had moved from the apartment complex to the less appealing quarters onboard the ship. They had only seen each other occasionally since. There were the two occasions when the crew decided to eat dinner together, and the few times that Bones had needed to come to the ship to pick up additional medical records that had been transferred to solids. Their encounters had been cordial, but there had been no attempt at discussing anything deeper than the continuing work, or the weather, which could always be described in one word--hot. Before tonight, the rest of the crew had never broached the subject with Jim, even though it was obvious that they wanted to. Even if they had, he wasn't sure he could explain, not without tipping his hand--and *that* he was determined not to do. With a sigh, he started walking back towards the Klingon ship, but movement detected out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning around, he noticed a shuttle approaching from the distance. He waited and once landed, the door opened and a familiar face stepped out. "Saavik!" he called. Right away he noticed that she had forgone the Starfleet uniform for a lightweight tunic and trousers fashioned in the Vulcan style. Her hair, no longer pulled up tight, was held back out of her face by a loose braid that lay across her shoulder and spilled down onto her breast. Starfleet regulations did this woman no favor. In her natural state, she was absolutely radiant. "Admiral Kirk," she nodded, "I hope my arrival has not come at a bad time." "No, not at all. It's great to see you. You look wonderful." "Most kind of you, Admiral. It is most agreeable to see you, as well." "Please, would you like to come inside? I'm afraid I'm not exactly set up for entertaining, but I could offer you something to drink." Quirking an eyebrow toward him, she replied, "Yes, that would be appreciated." "Good," he stated, "follow me." They walked up the ramp into the belly of the ship. As he led her toward the room that had been set up as a temporary galley, he asked, "So, how have you been? I haven't seen you since the day of the refusion. I assumed that you had left the planet." "I have been most well. I have been on Vulcan, Admiral." They reached the small room and Jim pulled a bottle of kaasa-masu, a juice made from a local fruit, from the cooling unit. "Will this do?" he asked holding it up. "Yes, thank you, Admiral." Jim reached for two glasses and poured juice into each. He considered telling her to skip the formalities, but knew it would be useless. Handing one of the glasses to Saavik, he indicated the table and chairs located in the room. "Please, have a seat." She took the glass and nodded, seating herself at the table across from Jim. "Well, Saavik, I have to say, it's great seeing you, but I had assumed you reported back to Starfleet weeks ago. I guess you and Spock are the only two who arrived on this ship who aren't considered criminals." "Actually, Admiral, in the eyes of Starfleet, I am considered a criminal." Jim looked up at her, surprised. "You? Why? You didn't have anything to do with hijacking the Enterprise." "That is true, but I failed to report back for duty. However, it is of little consequence. I have sent my notice that I am resigning my commission." Jim considered this over the rim of his glass then, setting it down, asked, "Mind if I ask why? I know how hard you worked to get to the point where you were." Saavik dropped her head, just slightly, and then looked back up at him. "Service to Starfleet no longer suits my purpose. It is my decision to stay on Vulcan at this time, perhaps find a way to be of service to my people." "The 'Fleet's losing a fine officer. I hope this is a decision you're happy with. I'm sure that, given the circumstances, your absence would be overlooked." "Happy, Admiral Kirk? I do not experience such feelings. However, I am content with my decision." Jim had to smile. He had known Saavik for many years, since the time Spock rescued her. He knew that her inability to suppress her emotions was one of her few shortcomings, at least in the eyes of Vulcan. She had a streak of curiosity and enthusiasm that always seemed to get in her way. Spock had frequently chided her for her lapses; Jim had secretly hoped she would never lose that quality. She had broken down more than once at the time of Spock's death, but that was certainly understandable considering he had not only been her rescuer, but her mentor as well. "I'm glad to hear it. Have you decided what you would like to do?" "I have an interest in serving with the Vulcan High Command. Some of the strides they have made within the scientific community in recent years are most impressive." "That sounds great," Jim replied. The next few moments between them were silent as they sat and sipped their juice. Finally, Jim asked, "You know, Saavik, as good as it is to see you, I have to wonder what brings you here this evening. It's not like you're used to dropping by for social calls. I get the feeling that you're here for a reason. Is it Spock?" Saavik seemed to hesitate, certainly not the norm for her. Jim had noticed she had always been willing to jump into any situation feet first. "I have seen him...on several occasions, Admiral." "And?" Jim prompted. He couldn't keep the momentary excitement out of his voice. Could this be the message he had been waiting for? Did Spock wish to see him? "The reeducation of his mind is advancing at a better than expected rate. He has been studying the disciplines of Vulcan and the history of the people." Jim took another sip from his glass and sat it down once more. He placed his arms on the table and leaned forward in his chair. He couldn't wait for her to get through a full report. There were things he wanted to know, so he decided to cut to the chase. "How is he really, Saavik? I've asked to meet with him, but have yet to receive an answer. Tell me, does he remember...his life...before?" Again, he noticed her hesitation. "In speaking with him, it seems that his memory patterns are quite complete where the first part of his life is concerned. He has some vivid recollections of being a student at Starfleet Academy, and has had some brief insights into his life beyond that time. He has asked about certain individuals, names that seem familiar to him. He has asked if the name, 'Captain Kirk' is familiar to me, and if he ever served with such a person." "What did you tell him?" "The elders have warned against revealing more information than he remembers on his own. Therefore, I merely advised him that he had served with such a person. He only realized that the person he recognized as 'Jim', and the person named 'Captain Kirk', were one in the same when he began to understand the facts behind his rebirth. In referring to you, he believes you to be the captain of a starship, although he does not know which ship." Jim felt his heart sinking. It had been nine weeks since the refusion. If Spock was going to remember, he should be doing so already. "Is there anyone else he remembers?" "He also remembers a Captain Pike. This name I was not familiar with." "Chris Pike. He was Spock's commanding officer on the Enterprise before I took over. He served under him for almost twelve years." Jim couldn't manage to keep the dejection out of his voice. "I see. His other memories seem to involve his working at a station onboard a ship. He has brief memories regarding certain missions, but those seem to be when he was under the command of Captain Pike. He remembers certain events that took place in the containment chamber where he died, but those images are fragmented and he is unable to connect them to anything specific. He has been informed of the events that took place following his death, but has no continuous memory until after the fal-tor-pan." Jim looked down, traced the almost unnoticeable seam in the table with the tip of his finger, and then looked back up at her. "So I take it he doesn't remember McCoy...or me? He has no recollection of the relationship we once shared?" "No, Admiral Kirk, I'm sorry, he does not. This is one of the reasons I have come to you this evening. I am here as his representative. He received your request asking to meet with him, but he does not wish a meeting between the two of you at this time. He has made the decision to cease any further attempts to remember either Starfleet, or his time spent serving that institution. He has been successful with mastering all of the basic Vulcan doctrines, and has made the decision to continue in these pursuits." Jim felt a quick, stabbing pain deep within him. "So, what you're saying is that he's given up." "He has made a choice, Admiral." Jim felt he couldn't sit still any longer. He rose from his seat and walked to the counter. Turning back, he stated, "I see. Well," he continued, his voice becoming bitter, "considering the alternatives, maybe it's for the best." "The alternatives, sir?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. Looking around, Jim said, "This isn't the life he left, and we're not the same people he knew for all of those years." "Yes, sir," she bowed her head slightly. "I think I understand." "Was there something else?" he asked. It wasn't that he didn't find some pleasure in seeing her, but Jim suddenly felt the need to be alone. He needed time to assimilate this newest, shocking revelation. He had suffered many unexpected twists lately, and his mind, and heart, needed time to adjust. Looking up, Jim could see that she was scrutinizing him closely. Her eyes shone with concern. Damn him! This wasn't fair! It wasn't fair for Spock to make Saavik play the part of his messenger! Certainly not with news like this! "No, sir," she finally replied. "I do not believe there is anything else to discuss at this time." "Saavik, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that he's made the choice to forget all that was once important to him. I'm sorry that all we once had is lost. But most of all, I'm sorry that this was left to you. You deserve better than to have to be the bearer of bad news. Just do me a favor, the next time you see him..." Jim paused. What? There really was nothing that she either could, or needed, to tell Spock, certainly not on his behalf. "Never mind, Saavik. I guess there's really nothing else he would be interested in hearing from us." "Yes, sir," she acknowledged. She rose from her chair. "It has been most agreeable to see you again, Admiral." "It's been nice for me, too, Saavik." "Thank you, Admiral Kirk." Saavik nodded and turned for the door, Jim followed. Together they walked back down the corridor, out into the open bay, and down the ramp in silence. Before she boarded the shuttle, she turned to Jim. "Good evening, Admiral," she offered. "Good-bye, Saavik. I hope whatever pursuits you decide on will bring you the very best." "Thank you, sir. But I am certain that we shall see each other again." "I would like that," he nodded. Once again she paused, as if to add something, but after a moment she turned, boarded the shuttle, and sped away. Out of habit, Jim almost glanced upwards. He stopped himself. It was a habit he was determined to break. Not only was it too dark to see if anyone was on the path, but he was now certain that he would never see the one silhouette he always searched for. Chapter 2 Amanda closed the data port for the evening, and the unit before her went blank. The lamp next to the workstation caused her image to be reflected onto the blank screen, and she couldn't help but notice the small, knowing smile that caressed her lips. On this particular evening, she discovered that the seeds she had been planting since her arrival had indeed produced a sweet nectar. She took pride in the fact that, from the first day she arrived at Gol, she had arranged it so Spock would not be informed of his past from any visitor. On her council, the elders were warning all who approached her son to not speak of events that he did not remember on his own. This, Amanda had advised them, would have the potential of causing him great psychological damage. She had supported her platform by citing several studies from a cross section of renowned and highly regarded Federation scientists concerning the psychiatric behavior among those with combined inter-species and human genes. She declined to mention the fact that the research she based this hypothesis on was never designed with a Vulcan-Human hybrid in mind, nor were the studies she alluded to ever fully proven beyond theory. It was a small deception, but one which she felt was necessary. The fact that the elders had little knowledge of those with Spock's particular genetic make-up meant she was able to gain their full support. With this accomplished, she had been quite successful in intimating herself between Spock and any outside forces that could endanger the plans she had for her son. As far as she was concerned, things couldn't be working out better. Thanks to a little effort on her part, Sarek had kept his distance, which suited her just fine. Being married to the man for almost fifty years had its advantages. She had made sure that her husband--at least he was still her husband for the time being--would not come to Gol unless Spock specifically requested him. Sarek was led to believe that it was in Spock's best interest for him to stay away. He was advised that his son's memories should not be rushed, therefore, visitors were being limited to those of Spock's choosing. Also, to have his son witness a scene between himself and his 'overly emotional' wife would do Spock no service, especially if the argument concerned matters that Spock did not understand. However, Amanda was quite aware that Sarek was keeping tabs on Spock's progress through the elders in charge of his retraining. Fortunately for her, and certainly without Sarek realizing it, she was supplying the information that the elders were giving to her husband. He would possess no more information other than what she chose for him to have. Making sure that Spock would not ask for Sarek had proved to be an even easier accomplishment. In those first days after her arrival at Gol, Spock had questioned her as to the reason for Sarek's absence following the refusion ceremony. Her son remembered his father's presence at the ritual site, but had not seen him since. All Amanda had to do was to 'hint' that he and his father were not on the best of terms, and Spock fell under the assumption that they were still estranged. Amanda found that this worked to her advantage, and she did all in her power to foster that belief. It was certainly as logical an explanation as any, given the fact that Spock recalled some of his past disagreements with Sarek over his chosen career in Starfleet. Spock had mentioned his father only occasionally since. It wasn't until she had been on Vulcan for a full month that Spock had questioned her about the time she was spending away from Sarek. He offered his concern that her constant presence at Gol was going to interfere with her marriage. Amanda refrained from divulging the fact that a dissolution of the marriage bond between herself and Sarek was imminent. She felt there was no need to inform her son of details he may find disturbing or, more importantly, could prompt more questions. As for her continued presence at Gol, she explained that Sarek was off-planet quite often, usually for extended periods of time, due to his position as the leading ambassador representing Vulcan. Thankfully, Spock seemed to accept her explanation and questioned her no further on this issue. She felt no guilt over this. If Sarek truly cared for his son, cared for either of them, he would have never allowed a relationship to develop between himself and that devil's spawn, McCoy. She convinced herself that the reason for the small deceptions she had precipitated had been only for the good of her son. After all, she was on Vulcan for one reason only. Spock. Only Spock. She was there to help her son regain that which he had lost after his katra had dwelled in Leonard McCoy's mind all that time after his death. During this time, there had been other matters that she had needed to evade with Spock, especially his questions regarding the events surrounding his death and rebirth. Unfortunately, before her arrival, there had been some information supplied to Spock in this regard. Much more than what she would have liked. He knew his death had occurred onboard a Starfleet ship, one which he believed he had served on, and that it was a Starfleet crew who retrieved him and transported him to Vulcan. He had heard that those involved with his rescue had remained on Vulcan, although he did not understand the reason. He was aware that it was a human who carried his katra, but why this individual would be in possession of such an intimate part of him was unclear. By the time she arrived on Vulcan, his inquisitive nature had him probing his mind for answers. Knowing that she had stop his attempts to reconstruct certain aspects of his memory, Amanda found she had to be a bit more creative to counteract the damage that had been done. This she accomplished by combining facts with half-truths. She verified that he had been in service to Starfleet, and told him that his death had occurred when he gave his life to save the crew of the ship he served on. She explained that the individual who carried his katra had been the ship's physician. It was her understanding that the doctor had some amount of experience with the Vulcan race, and considering the circumstances of his death and the immediate need for transfer, he had been a logical choice as the vessel Spock required. Her son agreed. As to Spock's retrieval from the Genesis planet, she advised him that the Starfleet crew who rescued him did so in the line of duty, nothing more, after their errors in judgment had precipitated a nearly catastrophic incident. As to the reason for the crew's continued presence on Vulcan, it was due to extensive research that was being preformed on an alien ship, one that had been confiscated during the ensuing battle. To her relief, Spock accepted her explanation. There had been other questions from her son during the weeks she had been at Gol, but she was usually able to redirect his occasional inquiries toward subjects more to her liking with reasonable ease. Although as familiar with Vulcan mysticism as any human, it still amazed her that Spock was alive, that he was whole...or at least he would be with her astute guidance. With her son's resurrection from death, Amanda found she had another chance. It was as though her son had just been born of her womb again...perfect in mind and body, a clean block of clay which she could shape and mold into the man she always intended him to be. Amanda felt as if she had been given a second opportunity to train and direct her child. Although he had the body of a man, the eyes that turned to her as she spoke were the same eyes that quested for knowledge and absorbed all she could offer him those many years before. She had scheduled tutoring sessions with her son both morning and evening, each lasting better than two hours each. In between their sessions, Spock would study the disciplines of his planet with the Brothers of Zi'har, take his meals, and meditate. During these times spent together, they had regained the closeness they had once shared. In many ways, Amanda felt that she had been resurrected as well. However, on three separate occasions, he had met with Saavik. It seemed that besides herself, Saavik was becoming Spock's closest confidant. This, too, fit into Amanda's plans, and she did all in her power to see to it that time was allotted for these meetings, even offering him the opportunity to shorten their evening sessions if need be. He had never accepted the offer, but she was certain that he would as soon as the relationship with Saavik became more important to him. It was her hope that he would find with Saavik, a most acceptable candidate, that which he had only previously found with those who proved unacceptable and untrustworthy, in her opinion. By placing herself in a position of trust with her son, this had allowed her to steer him in a direction more to her liking. She was aware that Spock had received a request from James Kirk for a meeting, but she had attempted to convince her son that it was unwise to allow interference from the outside to intervene in his newly-found dedication to all things Vulcan. His only reply had been that he was still considering the request. But tonight...the events of this evening had been her crowning glory! Spock showed up for their evening session at exactly the same time as he did every evening. As usual, they went right to work on his academics. She had needed to extend the time she used to prepare for these sessions since he had begun to surpass her in all subjects. More often than not, he was beginning to find the errors in her work, not vice versa. But Amanda was determined not to let this time end. As long as there were cultures with recorded histories or concepts, she would have subject matter for them to work on--together. Once the academics were out of the way for the evening, they had started a tradition of having a cup of tea accompanied by discussion. "Mother," Spock stated, retrieving the cup from the small table that separated their chairs and taking a sip. "I had another meeting with Saavik, this afternoon." "Oh, Spock? And what did you discuss?" "She seemed most distracted, therefore our meeting was not an extended one. However, I did ask her if she would serve as my emissary." "Your emissary? In what capacity, Spock?" "In regard to the request from this James Kirk. I understand that he was instrumental in my rescue, however, I believe myself to be in possession of all significant facts regarding that time. As you have explained, his were merely the actions performed out of sense of duty. Since it is illogical to express gratitude to someone for that which is performed in the line of duty, I have asked her to contact this Kirk and explain why I choose not to have an audience with him." Amanda felt her heart soar, but kept her tone steady as she replied, "I believe that to be a wise choice, Spock." "It is a logical choice, Mother. As you have repeatedly pointed out, it is reasonable to assume that only those memories that hold significance have remained. All else is of little consequence. And since it is my decision to pursue only those paths which will increase my understanding of my planet and people, then it is a waste to concentrate my efforts on matters of unimportance." "This pleases me, Spock. I feel that you have made great strides this day." "Most kind, Mother," he replied, sitting his cup on the table beside him. "Now, if you will forgive my early departure, I should like to spend some additional time in meditation this evening." "Understood, my son. Rest. This has been a day of achievement for you." He stood, nodded, and exited her chamber. "And a day of great achievement for me, as well, Spock," she whispered after he had departed. Chapter 3 Bending over his kneeling lover, Jim withdrew slowly then sunk the full length of his organ again into the hot chamber. He felt the heat surrounding his cock and the wonderful ache that was centered deep within his abdomen. The sensation raced to his thighs and scrotum, causing that delicious, familiar, almost painful tingle of anticipation when he reached the point of no return. His lips pressed into the hot nape of his lover’s neck kissing and sucking the heated, damp skin as the orgasm built within him. He tasted the essence of their perspiration mixed together; cinnamon and copper--salt and sex. Other hands, cool and gentle, were kneading his body from behind. He felt the small, sucking nibbles against his neck, sliding down his back to his mounds and felt the hands separate them. A tongue darted rapidly against his opening, tracing and teasing it before plunging inside. Through the bond they shared, their pleasure was multiplied over and over again until they were lost in an endless abyss of hot pleasures and salacious desires. He felt the hips thrust back against him; they were so close now. The tongue was removed from his most private orifice and a body moved in behind him. He felt the slightly painful invasion of a cock being driven deeply and quickly into him. He was the invader and the invaded. Reaching underneath, he grasped the hard cock and milked it in its most sensitive area, just behind the second ridge. Sandwiched between his lovers, he thrust his organ once more into the moist, molten body beneath him, as a thick cock was drilled once more into him. Moaning his lovers' names, he felt the organ in his hand begin to throb, and he thrust again into the warm, willing, pulsating body. Stealing himself, he wrapped his other arm tightly around the narrow waist as the first contraction propelled his ejaculate into the hot chamber. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped as the first wave hit. A second wave crashed over him as the organ inside began filling him. Another moan was roared into the damp, slick back of his Vulcan lover. The sound of his own guttural wail awakened him. Slowly, Jim began to realize that he was not in the apartment they shared in San Francisco, but in the room he had claimed as his own on the hijacked Bird of Prey. Spock and Bones were not with him. His arms were not wrapped around Spock's waist, but instead clutching his pillow. There was no lover beneath him, and no lover behind him. He was not thrusting himself into Spock's heated bowels, but against a knotted blanket; his sticky fluid was coating his abdomen and the bed cover that lay crumpled beneath his groin. Jim rolled over on his back and used the edge of the sheet to clean away the sticky ejaculate that clung to his body before roughly pushing the soiled linen out of the way. It was the second time since they had become exiled here that he had had such a dream. When he was awake, he could no longer find those passions that he had once felt. Yet, twice, when he was asleep, they had haunted him. Except for these two times when this same erotic image had invaded his dreams, he found arousal was something that he was no longer capable of. Not since they had stolen the Enterprise had he been faced with any scenario that had been able to stir his passions. Impotence. It wasn't something he'd ever considered would be a problem, not with his history. Of course, there were medications for such a malady. However, the treatments only worked when the body and mind actually wanted to be healed. In this case, Jim's body only signaled how dead he felt on the inside. He convinced himself that with the dream over, he could rest. But on this night, rest would not come so easily. He brusquely shoved at the pillow under his head and stared into the darkness. How was he to get past this aloneness that consumed him when he couldn't stand the idea of anyone getting too close? It had been more than a month since he had left Bones standing in the park, and the look of pain in those eyes still disturbed him. But wasn't it better for his friend that he got it over quickly instead of letting Bones stay around and die this slow death along with him? That's what it felt like. He felt like his very soul was slowly ebbing away. From the beginning of their exile, Jim had realized that there were decisions he'd have to make regarding the predicament they found themselves in. This was his responsibility, and he couldn't allow his crew to go on paying for the choices he had made. It wasn't the first time he had found himself in a difficult situation; the difference was Spock had always seemed to be there before to pull him out when things got too bad. Spock wasn't going to be around to pull his butt out of the fire this time. But it really didn't matter. And, even if he were here, it would just be one more person he would have to hurt. In just a matter of months, maybe sooner, he would have to leave everyone behind. He had decided on that very first day that he was going to use a combination of the Bird of Prey and his surrender for the exoneration and reinstatement into Starfleet of all others involved. There was no doubt in his mind that it would work. He was the main one that Starfleet wanted to get their hands on--to make an example of. And to be able to do so, as well as get their hands on the information contained in the Klingon ship, not to mention ease tensions with Vulcan, one of the most powerful planets in the Federation, they would accept his terms without question. He knew what the consequences would be--lifetime imprisonment in one of the remote, less-than-hospitable detention centers, one that had long ago ceased to attempt to rehabilitate and existed only for the purpose to confine and punish. He was prepared for that. What happened to him didn't matter, but what happened to his crew mattered a great deal. Looking around in the near darkness, he knew that this ship played a big part in his plans. It was valuable, and if they could succeed in gaining its hidden secrets, it would be a mighty big bargaining chip when the time came for putting his plan into action. His crew had no idea why he had pushed them like he had for these weeks. Perhaps they even resented him for the long, grueling hours they had been putting in, although none--other than Bones--would ever say so. But the doctor had said plenty to him regarding his being a driven taskmaster since they arrived here--the ship's newly christened name was no accident. But someday they would understand why he was pushing them so hard. As these people had always been so willing to do in the past, once more they would just have to trust him. Jim knew that there was no way they would agree, not to this. Even so, he had tried to give them more down time in the last weeks. The incident he witnessed in the belly of the ship between Sulu and Chekov had made it blatantly clear that these were feeling, emotional people who had needs that couldn't be satisfied by working every waking minute. His gut still knotted up at the memory, a memory he tried to erase from his mind. What wouldn't he give to feel that kind of passion again? To *allow* himself to feel passion that strong? And at what point had his mind, at least his waking mind, decided to close itself down to even the possibility? He knew it started before his decision to turn himself in had been made. Had Bones been right? Was Jim trying to punish him for the coldness between them after Spock's death? Even though he now understood the reason, the pain he'd felt that day as he sat in the rented shuttle outside the Officer's Resident building was still fresh in his memory. Or could it be because Bones had the audacity to care for someone else? Jealousy, it could be an evil master. Or was it seeing the emptiness in Spock's eyes when he had looked at him? He had seen emptiness in those eyes once before when he turned and saw Spock standing behind him. How it hurt to have to relive those days. Or, had it happened when he knelt over David's body as it lay on the hot ground of that damned planet, knowing that his chance to make a difference to his son was lost? No answers, just questions. Questions that kept swirling and spinning continuously around in his mind at a nauseating speed. What he needed were the men who had centered him for all these years. He needed Bones' words of wisdom, but he had pushed him away. He needed Spock's quiet reassurance, but Spock... "Goddamn you, Spock!" he seethed. "How can you forget all we were to each other?" He snatched the pillow from underneath his head and punched it violently. Then, instead of pushing it back under his neck, he flung it across the small room, knocking over a stack of data chips that had rested on the shelf beside the door. "STOP THIS!" he bellowed. This was the one place he didn’t have to worry about being overheard. Realizing that sleep would not return, the memories and remorse making it too painful to lie awake, he got up, wrapped a sheet around him, and began to reorder the disks that had been strewn about the room. By dawn, Jim had already reviewed many of the chips that Sulu had been able to download the day before and had the day’s schedule laid out. There had been some awkward moments between Sulu, Chekov, and himself since the afternoon he found them making love in the lower corridor of the ship. Having to face each other the next day hadn't been easy. In the weeks that followed, avoidance of the subject had been the way they had all handled it. Jim knew it wasn't the best way to deal with it, but considering they were stranded on Vulcan at his request, he didn't feel comfortable reading them the riot act. Besides, it had been his own lack of consideration for the crew, denying them needed time to spend alone, which had led to that situation in the first place. If there was anyone to blame, the finger was pointing directly at him. Checking the chrono, he realized the crew would start arriving in the next thirty minutes. He rose from the desk to shower and dress. Thankfully, Scotty had been able to get the sonics working. **************** Sulu rolled over, spooned himself to his lover, and sighed contently. He felt the muscular body press back against him. Had they not spent most of the night satisfying each other, he would have been tempted to rub his semi-aroused cock against his lover's ass, but he wasn't certain that he would be up to the task again quite so soon. The last month and a half had been wonderful. Sure, they still worked long hours, but nothing over ten on any given day. Admiral Kirk had recently made sure that they were out in plenty of time to have some time for themselves. No one had dared address the situation that had transpired in the corridor of the ship, but in the last couple of weeks they could almost speak to the admiral without turning all shades of red--almost. Pavel rolled in his arms and captured his mouth. With the sweet sucking motions against his lower lip, Sulu felt his groin respond and realized he was wrong. He would certainly be up to the task again, if time allowed. But they needed to shower and dress before meeting Len, Nyota, and Scotty at the shuttle. Pulling back his head and staring into the deep chocolate eyes of his lover, he breathed, "You know we don't have time for this." "Ummmm..." Pavel purred, claiming him once more. God, the man made breaking away hard! "Pav..." Hikaru rasped, pulling his head away. "Staff meeting at oh-two hundred, remember? Admiral Kirk said he had some new ideas for us to work on, and he wants to discuss them with the crew this morning." With the mention of Kirk's name, Pavel immediately released Sulu to allow him to get up. It wasn't a reaction that went unnoticed. Even though Sulu would follow Kirk to the ends of the universe, actually already had, the fact that his lover was always so willing to jump through fire for Jim Kirk did bother him a bit. "Pav, why do you do that?" Sulu asked. "Do vhat?" Pavel looked at him questioningly. "That. Always willing to jump when Kirk's name is mentioned." Pavel shrugged, almost guiltily, and looked down. "Do I?" he asked. "Yeah, you do. You always have. You were always the first to jump to his defense. I see that hasn't changed. Remember the night that Sarek showed up at his apartment? You were just about to crawl out of your skin with worry. Pav, I'm not sure I want to know this, but I'm going to ask it anyway. Do you love him? I mean, I always knew you had a bit of a crush on him, everyone did, but it's been a long time since you were a fresh ensign enamored by the great captain." Pavel looked up, and Sulu noticed that there was a serious expression that had formed on his lover's face. "Do I love him?" Pavel asked, thoughtfully. "Da. I guess I would do anything I could for him. I think from the first time I stepped onto the bridge I was somehow drawn to him. I'd take on the whole Klingon army to defend him if I had to." A small grin played over Pavel's lips. "You know, come to think of it, I tried to do that very thing once, but Scotty stopped me. I'd give up my life for him if he needed me to. And it's not just because I feel I owe him, but I do. Hik, if it hadn't been for him, Khan would have killed me. Then, on the planet inside the Genesis cave, did you know that I pulled a phaser on him?" "Seriously?" Sulu asked in disbelief. One thing that would never go unpunished in Starfleet was threatening a superior officer. "No, I hadn't heard that. When?" "When I was still under the effects of the ceti-eel. Anyone else would hev shot me on the spot. But you didn't hear about it because he didn't so much as put it in the report. If he had, I would've been busted back to ensign and confined. No matter the circumstance, threatening a superior officer is punishable by imprisonment. But instead, he took care of me. He saw that I got back to the ship and had McCoy tend to me until I was good as new. Then, as sad as he was after Mr. Spock died, he called me to his cabin because he was worried about me. Can you imagine that? After all he had gone through, Hik, it was *me* he was worried about. So, yes, I love him. And I would give up everything for him, except one thing." Sulu felt Pavel's arms snake around him, but the words were stinging him to his very core. "What?" he breathed. "You," Pavel said, simply. Sulu felt his heart swell. "Me?" "Yes, silly. Don't you know that you complete me? That finding you again made life worthwhile? But, you know, even that I owe to him. If it hadn't been for Jim Kirk, I never would hev knocked on your cabin door that night. So, for all he's been to me, I love him. I guess I always will. However, I happen to be forever, totally, completely *in* love with you." Pavel slid his hand to the back of Sulu's neck and pulled him in for another kiss. This time, Sulu didn't consider the fact that the hour was getting later and later. He just allowed himself to be swept into the feel of his lover's mouth against him. Once the kiss was broken, Sulu whispered, "I know the feeling. I love you, too. And I do wish there was something we could do for him. It's obvious he's hurting right now. Unfortunately, although I consider him one of my closest friends, we've never had the kind of relationship where we discussed personal issues. But one thing's for sure, he certainly isn't the same man we've known all these years." Pavel pulled his head back. "I didn't realize you were so worried about him. I didn't know anyone else had noticed how depressed he seems. You can tell he's trying to hide it. You know, I think in a way you love him too." Hikaru tasted Pavel's lips once more before he responded. "I'd never thought about it, but I guess that best describes how I feel. I guess we all do. Otherwise, I don't guess any of us would be here. It's no longer a matter of duty, but more a feeling of family--a family that will do anything to help one of their own." "Da..." Pavel sighed, agreeing. Sulu ran his fingers down his lover's cheek and then looked away, feeling the sad memories of times past trying to bubble up within him. He took in a deep breath and then, keeping his voice neutral, he continued, "Pav, after you left I went through some pretty rough times. I never discussed it with him, but there were times he'd walk up behind me, lay a hand on my shoulder, and give a small squeeze. Just something about that small gesture let me know that even though he didn't know the facts, he understood, and that everything would be okay. Even after I found Demora, and my life became a bit more stable, it felt like some big part of me was missing." His voice trailed off. Demora...he thought of her more and more these days. Pavel kept assuring him that he would see her again before too long. He wanted to believe that, but didn't know how. Still, it was Pavel's continuing affirmation that kept Sulu from losing hope that he'd ever be reunited with his daughter. Glancing back down at Pavel, finding himself drawn in by the deep brown eyes, he continued. "Looking back on it, I realize that it was watching Jim Kirk, trying to figure out what he would do, that brought me through. I always knew that if I really needed to talk to him, his door would be open. I think that trying to live up to his example--someone who knows what's important and doesn't mind standing up for it--helped make me the man I am today. Because of him, I know what's important and I don't mind doing...whatever it takes, even in the face of adversity. Maybe that's why I feel at such a loss as to what to do now. I've seen him go through some tough times, but I've never seen him like he is now." "I know," Pavel nodded. "I don't understand what's happened lately, why he and Len aren't living together anymore. He wanted us all to stay together, yet he's secluded himself on the Bounty. And you're right; he's hurting. No matter how much he tries to hide it, you can just see it in his eyes. And I wish there was something we could do." "What can we do, Pav? Jim Kirk is as private a man as anyone. No way he's going to talk about it." "Yeah, I know," Pavel replied thoughtfully. The Russian smiled up at him, a sly grin forming over his luscious lips as he added, "But, right now, he's not the one on my mind." Sulu felt Pav pull him into another tight embrace, and the feel of his lover's renewed erection against his hip had the desired effect. Just as their lips joined, their communicators, both of them, began to sound simultaneously. Both fought against the light blanket that covered them until they were upright and grabbing them. "Sulu...here," Hikaru said. At the same time, Pavel was doing the same. "Mr. Sulu!" Scotty's booming voice came across the channel. "There are three of us waiting at the shuttle, yet it seems the two of ye have decided t' nay join us. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I dinna remember us being granted a holiday!" "Ten minutes, Scotty! Promise!" Sulu shouted into the communicator before snapping it shut. Together they jumped under the lights of the sonic shower. "Who was calling you?" Sulu asked as he turned so his front and Pavel's back could be cleansed. "Nyota," Pavel answered as they switched positions. "I think standing out in the Vulcan sun makes her grumpy!" "I *think* you're right!" Sulu mocked Pavel's accent lovingly. Eight minutes later, still sealing the front closure of their jumpsuits, they flung themselves into the seats along the center row of the shuttle. "Where's Leonard?" Sulu asked, ignoring the fact that both Nyota and Scotty were glaring at them. "He seemed to think that if we waited for the two of you, he would never get there, so he transported on ahead." Nyota shook her head and rolled her eyes at them. But just beneath the surface, Hikaru could tell she was suppressing a smile, a slight one, but a smile nonetheless. "I don't suppose you two bothered to get any breakfast." "Ahh...no," Pavel shook his head. "Why did you have to mention food? Now I am hungry! And there's nothing that can be replicated on the Bounty that's worth eating!" he moaned, grabbing his midsection dramatically. Even though his lover's melodrama caused a small chuckle to escape, Sulu knew that Pav was right. After the night of energetic activity they'd had, Hikaru felt his own stomach beginning to rumble. He had to admit that something to eat would feel pretty good. Reaching down, Uhura pulled up a small tray containing two large cups and some breakfast pastries. "Scotty suspected as much. He brought these for you," she said, handing it back. "Oh, Scotty! Thank you!" Sulu exclaimed, eyeing the tray hungrily. "Aye," Scotty nodded as he piloted the shuttle away from the ground. "Just dinna think I'm going t' let ye make a habit of making us late." "I swear, Scotty, never again," Sulu promised. Seemingly no longer able to suppress her grin, Uhura asked, "Gentlemen, haven't you every heard the adage that you can't live on love alone?" "Aye!" Pavel grinned, charmingly. "But it was Mr. Spock who taught me that you have to challenge all theories, otherwise other truths are never discovered. But..." Pavel paused mid-sentence to tear greedily into a particularly thick pastry. Some of the sweet, pinkish fruit filling oozed out and clung to his top lip. Looking toward Sulu, he licked it off. There was no doubt in Sulu's mind that Pavel knew full well how this would affect his lover, and he was right. After swallowing, the Russian continued, "...I think I will accept that saying as an axiom." They all broke out into laughter, even Scotty who Sulu noticed watching the display through the reverse viewscreen. Chapter 4 Deciding not to wait on the other two, Leonard McCoy had walked over to the transport station to beam to the station near the ship. It was still quite early, but 40 Eridani A had already risen above the mountain range adjacent to the landing pad. It was already hot, and Leonard knew the day would get no cooler. An early start was something they all tried for before the heat made thought and concentration difficult. It had been over a week since he had actually seen Jim, but he had spoken to him at least once every day about the progress he was making on the medical logs. Since the scene in the park almost two months before, their conversations were always kept to the business at hand. Leonard had decided that giving Jim some space was best--for now. But Jim had wanted all the crew here for a morning meeting, stating that he had some ideas that he wanted to get started on. Boarding the ship, he followed the corridor to the room that had been set up as a command post. “Morning, Jim," he called as he rounded the corner and saw Kirk sitting at the viewer. "I brought your breakfast. It'll be nice when the replicators stop spewing out those damned dregs that the Klingons call food.” “Morning, Bones," Jim replied, looking up only briefly. "Where are the others?" "They'll be along shortly. I came on ahead to give you a chance to eat." "I’m not hungry, Bones," Jim replied in a voice racked with fatigue. Leonard knew the sound of that voice. He had heard it too many times since they had arrived on this godforsaken planet. It was the sound of defeat, and not only because of the situation they found themselves in. There was only one person who could sink Jim Kirk into this kind of depression. The mere mention of Spock's name seemed to drag him down. The crew had picked up on it, and any discussion regarding their former bondmate was avoided at all cost. "Well, Jim, you look like the devil. Did you get any sleep at all last night?" "Some. I started thinking about the environmental controls and how to get them functioning more efficiently. If we can get those under control, we’ll be able to concentrate on downloading the databanks." "Bull shit! That’s not what kept you up all night, and you know it! You stayed awake all night stewing about Spock again, didn’t you?" Jim flashed him a look that Leonard knew meant he was entering into dangerous territory. "I don’t dictate to you what you do in your time off, *Doctor*, and I'd appreciate it if you would afford me the same consideration." "Jim, it *is* my business when your health's in question. Unless things have changed since you moved in here, you work till all hours of the night, then spend the rest of the night pacing, right?" When Jim opened his mouth to protest, Leonard cut him off. "Don't bother tryin' to deny it. Remember, we shared an apartment at the VSA for a while, and I heard you moving around at all hours back then. And it's for certain that ya don't look any more rested since decidin' to moved in here." He didn't mention the fact that his own horrific nightmares had returned, only now they were intertwined with erotic images of a certain Vulcan Ambassador who he'd started using every mental trick in the book to keep from thinking about. Leonard failed to reveal that his dreams were caught smack-dab between these two disturbing forces, and he'd started doing everything in his power to keep from going to sleep. But his situation wasn't the issue at the moment. "Don't ya think I've wanted to know why you're compelled to push yourself to the brink of exhaustion? It's obvious that you're neither resting nor eating. Jim, just where do ya think this crew will be if you let yourself get sick?" Jim leaned back in the chair and his shoulders sagged. "Just about where they are right now, Bones. Stranded and wanted by Starfleet." Leonard took a deep breath. If he thought shaking any sense into him would help, he would try, but Jim, more than likely, would just knock him on his ass if he attempted it. "Jim, we’re all here because we chose to be. And we need you at your best." With that, Jim managed to look up at him. "Seems to me, Bones, that you didn't have much say-so in the matter. I think we hijacked you like we did the Enterprise." Leonard couldn't help a small grin. It was true. He hadn't exactly been in a frame of mind to make choices at the time. "And do you think for a minute, that if I'd been in my right mind, I wouldn't have come along?" Jim made no response, but shook his head and shrugged. Leonard knew that with Jim shutting down, it meant the discussion was closed. McCoy turned and set down the container he'd been holding. He may not be able to get him to sleep, but he was going to do everything in his power to get some food into him. He poured two cups of coffee from the carafe then unwrapped a muffin and placed it on a napkin. Picking up the napkin and one cup, he walked over to where Jim had turned back to the computer console and sat them down. Jim looked at the items and then at his longtime friend. "Thanks, Bones, but really, I'm not hungry." "I didn't ask if you were hungry. Eat!" he demanded. Jim smiled, if only slightly. Then, as if deciding that consent was better than the argument he would get if he refused, he picked up the cup and carefully took a sip of the steaming, aromatic beverage. He pinched off a small piece of the muffin and popped it in his mouth. "Better?" he choked after getting the bite washed down with the coffee. "It will be when I see you’ve finished that." McCoy turned and sat down in the chair beside the table. Sipping his coffee, he watched the man he had called friend--and so much more--for all these years. He knew how much Jim was hurting, but he had made it crystal clear that he wasn't going to allow Leonard to help him through this. "Have you heard anything about how Spock's doing?" he ventured. A decidedly pained look crossed Jim's face. It was obvious that something had happened since they had last talked. "As a matter of fact, Saavik came to see me last night. It seems that she's met with him several times. Evidently, the reeducation of his mind seems to be moving along very well. He seems to remember some flashes of events that took place during his time under Pike, but not much else. For some reason, he could only remember glimpses of me as a captain. And, except for brief images of the containment chamber, he doesn't remember the years since he returned to Starfleet at all." "And us? He doesn't remember any of what we were to each other?" Leonard knew this was a sore subject for both of them, but he couldn't help himself. "Evidently not." Jim sat down the cup and shook his head. "At least, according to Saavik, he hasn't shown any signs of it. Bones, I had asked to meet with him, but he's not interested. Something about that he's decided to dedicate himself to Vulcan, and is determined to forget the rest." Leonard came to his feet and turned away, feeling as if he wanted to run away from the unwelcome news. Not that it came as much of a surprise since they had heard nothing from Spock since the day of the refusion ceremony. Still, Leonard felt compelled to offer some kind of reassurance, maybe for himself as much as for Jim. Looking back at the man who had been his lover, he managed, "It's still early, and he's had a lot to deal with in a short amount of time. There's always a possibility that it'll come back." It had become obvious to McCoy that the main reason behind Jim's torment was Spock. Hell, if he would admit it to himself, the news of Spock's rejection was cutting him to the quick as well. To find out that Spock wasn't even trying to remember them anymore, hurt like the dickens. But McCoy knew that Jim didn't need his pain shoveled on top of the load he was already carrying. It was obvious that the man he loved had enough to deal with all ready. Jim looked at the cup that was clutched between his hands. "I'm beginning to doubt that he'll ever remember us, Bones. Even if his memory regarding specific events does return, I don't think he'll ever be the same man we knew." These were the same thoughts that Leonard, himself, had wrestled with lately. "I guess none of us will ever be the same," he replied. Although he tried to hide it, the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. Jim looked toward Bones. "I guess you're right." He choked out a cynical chuckle, and added, "You know, for years he fought to rid himself of emotion, even to the point of returning to Vulcan for the kolinahr. Now, he seems to have found exactly what he was searching for." Leonard looked over at Jim, surprised at what he was hearing. It was the first time since their arrival on the planet that Jim had given Leonard a glimpse of the pain he was carrying just beneath the surface. As hard as it was to watch, McCoy couldn't help but believe that maybe it was a good sign. In his professional opinion, Jim needed to release his emotions and grief before he could heal the wounds that resided deep inside his heart. "Jim..." McCoy said in a voice barely above a whisper. He wanted to put his arms around him, to both offer and receive some amount of solace. But he felt that Jim wasn't ready for that. And if Jim rebuffed him, he would lose the last thread of sanity he was holding onto. Leonard knew that as much as he loved Jim Kirk, he couldn't go through that kind of rejection--not again--not even for him. He'd experienced quite enough of that feeling lately. And this certainly wasn’t the time to break down the last of either of their defenses. The sound of the rest of the crew arriving stopped any further discussion. Leonard watched Jim straighten up, clear his throat, and, for the most part, shake off the pained look. Leonard watched Jim do as he had always done, surround himself in a facade of strength, and he wondered if he was the only one who knew just what a thin veneer it really was. He also wondered how many times had he had been witness to this transformation. Too many times in recent weeks alone, he decided. When Scotty bounded into the room with the rest of the crew following closely behind, Leonard found a chair against the far wall and just blended into the background as he watched all that was going on. Jim told Scotty about the environmental controls, and an idea he had on how to get them working more efficiently. Scotty agreed that with the new electrical conduit, it might be possible to resequence the controls by routing them through the new lines. Leonard noticed that with the mention of the new cables, a glance flashed between Chekov and Sulu that denoted anything but comfort, and they both definitely turned a few shades redder. With that, Uhura raised her data pad to her mouth to suppress a laugh. And Scotty, behind Jim's back, flashed all three a stern look of warning. Silently watching the group before him, McCoy decided that had they been on a ship, he would've diagnosed the whole bunch with space sickness! But considering that none of them had been in space for weeks, his best guess was that they were all just going daft! Realizing that his attention had strayed from the discussion at hand, Leonard refocused his concentration on Jim's dialogue with their chief engineer. "Scotty," Jim was saying, "I have an idea that just might break some of the code associated with the Klingon language. It's occurred to me that the dilithium chamber might be one produced by the Arcadians. They're known for their manufacturing of such chambers, and have supplied most of those used by the Federation. However, they've been highly suspect for dealing them in the forbidden regions, as well. If it's true, the Klingons are probably one of their biggest customers considering their proximity to the neutral zone. Am I correct that these chambers all have similar information that has to be encoded on them?" "Aye, that they do," Scotty assured him. "Then any markings in Kingonese should translate to languages found on other chambers that they've produced; languages that are a part of the Federation and could be located in any Federation planet's library, including the one right here on Vulcan. "Aye, makes sense," Scotty replied thoughtfully. "But until we are sure the weapons system is fully disengaged, I dinna want to go messing around with that chamber. One wrong move, and we could blow the ship t' kingdom come. Once we get the environmental controls working, we can start on that." "Well, then, we have our work cut out for us." As if seeming to remember that McCoy was in the room, Jim turned toward him, and asked, "Bones, how are you coming with the medical logs?" Leonard stood up and leaned against the edge of the table. "Well, Jim, I've finished with the ones that Mr. Sulu was able to extract from the computer. The information I've gained is nominal, but we know a lot more than we did before. If I can get the rest of the logs offloaded, then I can go back to the labs at the VSA and get started on some extensive comparisons." Jim nodded. "Sounds promising. Chekov, Sulu, you work with McCoy this morning and see if you can get the rest of those medical logs out of the computer. Uhura, you keep working on the communications center. I want a tie-in to Starfleet available as soon as possible." "Yes, sir," she nodded. "All right. We all have our assignments. I'll be with Scotty giving him a hand if you need me." With that, he and Scotty disappeared into the heart of the engineering section to work on the environmental controls, and Uhura went toward the bridge to work on the communication system. McCoy noticed the barely eaten bread still sitting on the desk and shook his head. He joined Chekov and Sulu as the three of them went to work on the data banks. Main Index/Next Chapters |