| Chapter 7 Jim was jerked back to the reality that he was not on the Enterprise, but in his own apartment. A wet feeling in his hand caused him to look down. Blood was pouring down his palm and dripping from his fingers. Having clutched the porcelain cup, it had shattered in his hand, cutting him deeply, but he had not felt it. He dropped the pieces of the cup and slapped the tea-soaked cloth to the injury. Staggering into the bathroom, he turned on the water and threw the soiled towel into the recycler. He thrust his hand under the faucet. The sink became splattered with bright red specks as his hand was held under the spray. He could see there were two deep lacerations and a few more minor cuts. He knew the water should have burned as it poured into the cuts, but he felt nothing, at least not in his hand. After a minute or so, he removed his hand from the flow of the water, placed a clean towel over the injured palm and applied pressure. The bleeding was brought under control. He convinced himself that he would be fine and didn’t need the prying eyes of a medic to attend to it. He got another cloth and soaked it in cold water and wiped his face. He couldn’t stop shaking, but knew it was the memories that had him unnerved, not the injury. Hell, he’d had wounds that were much worse than this over the years. He decided that maybe a shower would be the answer. Turning on the water he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Did he really look that old? His skin was pallid and he no longer had the muscular build he once had. Even though he still worked out several times a week, he knew that years of being a desk jockey was taking its toll. His hair used to be shiny and gold, now it was dull. Addressing himself in the mirror, he seethed, “Kirk, you’re a fucking idiot! Look at you! No one would be interested in you this way. It’s only your status, and exploits of days long past that keeps 'em coming back for more! Starfleet knows it. It’s time for you to accept it. Fuck it! If you get right down to it, no one was ever all that interested, at least not enough to stick around!” He climbed into the shower. The hot water beat against his skin. ‘But, oh God…that night!’ he thought. All the fucking in the world could never match what he had let himself feel that one night. Now that these memories had surfaced, they had a life of their own and would not be suppressed again. It was as if he could, after more than two years, still feel Spock’s heat and hardness inside of him. He could remember the taste of Bones and see him sitting on the mat, stroking his own cock as Spock made love to him. The hot water pounded against him. He placed his injured hand against the shower wall, and gripped his cock with the other. He let the memories of that evening flood him once more as he pumped his organ. The relief he had not been able to give himself came. He spewed his semen onto the floor of the shower. When he was finished he put his face against the cool tile. His body shook from the sobs that been suppressed these years. “Why?” he moaned into the wall, “why would you do this?” After a while, he began to recover from the events of the evening. He turned the water temperature to just cold. With the shock of the icy water, he managed to regain his composure, pull himself back from the breakdown and begin the process of pushing the emotions of the last hour back to that dark part of himself that he refused to acknowledge. He admonished himself for letting the memory of those men rip his control from him. That had been much too long ago to still allow it to affect him in this manner. But, he told himself, he had faced up to those memories and dealt with them, so he could now move on. The only remnant of his breakdown was the red streams of blood that stained the wall. With the sprayer, he washed away the last of his outburst. He wrapped himself in a robe, bandaged the still bleeding hand, cleaned the spot on the rug and tossed the remnants of the antique, porcelain cup into the recycler. He then proceeded to the comm unit to go over the crew assignments. With hands that were still unsteady, he called up the unfinished report. He had completed all of the assignments for the Enterprise, but he wanted to be ready with recommendations for the vacant positions that the transfers had left at other stations. After an hour or so, he had managed to lose himself completely in the puzzle of reassignments and it took him a moment to realize the unit was signaling him. He had placed it on auto, so nothing except a call from Starfleet, level 4 or above, would ring through. He pushed ‘receive,’ saw it was coming in at level 1, and his gut tightened. It meant there was either an all out war in this sector or a disaster of the greatest magnitude. He keyed the signal and, with a retinal scan, his identity was verified. Admiral Nogura appeared on the screen, “Admiral Kirk, we have a problem...” The next afternoon he emerged from the administration building and headed for the transport station. He was reporting to the Enterprise as her captain. Kirk had experience dealing with the unknown and he refused Admiral Komack’s insistence that he either control the mission from here, or go aboard the Enterprise as Decker’s assistant. He knew from experience that he needed to have the bridge officers reporting directly to him. Without the ability to use his instincts and have his orders carried out quickly, his hands would be tied. And as Decker’s advisor, his orders could be questioned and his decisions overridden. He was not willing to take a chance like that. In the short meeting, he made it clear to both Komack and Nogura that he would refuse the assignment, even to the point of resigning, unless he was put in charge. With that entity bearing down on Earth it seemed a wise move to grant James Kirk his request. “Gave her back, sir?” Scotty said in the transport shuttle. “I doubt that!” “You’re rrrr-ight!” Jim said, attempting his best impression of a Scottish accent. He looked at the man powering the shuttle and flashed him that famous “ Kirk” smile. Scotty gave a report of the all of the systems that were not working properly. It may have been a shorter list if he had just told Kirk the systems that were operating as they should. It was obvious that Scotty was keeping the most advantageous view of the Enterprise out of sight until the last possible moment. When the shuttle emerged from behind the scaffolding of the dock site, Jim saw her; bathed in light against the blackness of space. In all of his travels he had never seen a star so bright. He was coming home. Chapter 8 McCoy had been working for the last year and a half on the archeological dig in the region of The New Consolidated Middle Alliance. This area was formally known as the Middle East prior to the last nuclear/eugenics event. The countries had been at war with each other for centuries, but in the last one hundred and seventy-five years since the alliance, this area had been a source of amazing scientific discoveries. The historical digs had unearthed unbelievable scientific information regarding the origins of humans on this planet. McCoy was deeply involved with the nearly impossible DNA analysis of not only the ancient human remains, but of plant and animal life never before believed to inhabit this region of the solar system. For the first time in two years, he had begun to believe his life could have meaning again. The contribution he was making was such that it would change the way the inhabitants of Terra came see their place in the history of the universe. His research was destined to put the name ‘Leonard McCoy’ next to the greatest scientists of all time, but this had not even occurred to him. Leonard knew only that he had once again found a spark for life. The numbness that had become the norm was abating. That was all he cared about. Then the call came. “Dr. McCoy, Admiral Fitzpatrick here. Due to an incident of an extreme nature, we are acting upon our capacity to reinstate your Starfleet status to active. You are being notified that you are required to report to Starfleet Headquarters within, and no later than, twenty-four hours from this notification. You will be fully briefed upon your arrival...” “Now wait just a DAMN minute!” Leonard interrupted. “I resigned my position from Starfleet over two years ago...” “Dr. McCoy, you have no choice in this matter. Twenty-four hours. Out.” “SHIT!” Leonard shouted, as he hit the ‘open channel’ button on the comm unit and requested to be put through to Starfleet Headquarters. “I’m sorry, there are no open lines at this time,” the contraption chimed. He drew a deep breath. He would’ve rather talk to Beelzebub himself, but… “Then put me directly through to Admiral James T. Kirk. Tell him it’s Leonard McCoy calling.” Jim held his breath when he saw who was contacting him. Could he really go through with this? Yes, he had to. But, when the comm connection flared open, there was a noticeable intake of air from each of them. “Bones! How’s it going?” Jim asked as normally as he could manage. He could tell his voice was a little unstable, he just hoped it didn’t come through to the man on the other side. He noticed the full beard that McCoy was now sporting, and thought to himself, ‘He’s going to hate to give that up!’ Jim softly chuckled. “Not so DAMN well, ADMIRAL! What do you know about this crap?” “Bones, I only know that we have a situation, a serious one, and a lot of personal are being called in. I have a meeting with Admiral’s Nogura and Komack shortly, but I can’t do anything about this decision, Leonard.” Leonard looked at the man on the screen and wanted to call him a lying son-of-a-bitch. There was only one thing that stopped him. It was the way Jim looked; certainly a lot older. No, it was more than that. He looked empty. There was no light in those eyes. He lamented over the memory of those eyes that used to shine with a brilliance that put the stars to shame. How much pain and hurt had it taken to extinguish that kind of radiance? Looking at Kirk’s face, he suddenly had the urge to go to him, wrap his arms around him and heal the hurt. But, more than two years before, it had been made very clear that that was not an option. Then again, hadn’t he, himself, been through these same years trying to keep the past from haunting him? He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as inconspicuously as possible and was just able to mutter, “I can’t believe this!” “Bones, I swear, you’ll be briefed as soon as you get here,” Jim stated. For just a moment, Leonard saw a hint of a smile appear on Jim’s face but, just as quickly, it was gone. “I have a meeting to go to. I'm sorry I have to cut this short, but all will be explained when you arrive.” “Fine. You’ve been a big help, Admiral!” McCoy emphasized the rank far beyond what was necessary. “McCoy out,” he stated. The screen went blank and Jim continued to stare at it. ‘I sure hope you know what you’re doing,’ Jim thought to himself. In the meeting he had been called to the evening before, Jim had suggested recalling Leonard McCoy for this mission, sighting his experience with the unknown as well as his familiarity with Starfleet procedure. Komack countered that Christine Chapel had been awarded her M.D. and had recently been checked out on the SRMA, the Ship-Readiness Medical Analysis. To this, Kirk pointed out that although he was certain that Christine was an exceptional physician, it was only because she had been under the guidance of Leonard McCoy for five years before her final rounds of internship had been served. Komack had no response and Admiral Nogura ordered Leonard McCoy’s status reactivated, effective immediately. With the anger he had seen flashing in those too familiar eyes, he had no delusions about Leonard showing up and their relationship returning to the way it was before that night. No, there had been too many harsh words spoken between them for that to happen. But Jim was well aware that what they were facing was as serious as anything they had ever encountered. And the fact was, there was only one man for the job. He needed a CMO he could rely on for the impossible, and Leonard McCoy was the only man in the galaxy to fit that bill. But, after the events of the previous evening, the memories were still boiling just below the surface. A wound was now opened and would not close again without bleeding. And he was not thinking of the cuts on his hand, but the gash in his heart. Chapter 9 They had all fallen asleep on the floor that night. It was not long before Jim had become aware of Spock’s shivering. Jim knew the Vulcan’s quarters were not as warm as he was used to, and being curled against two human lovers with lower body temperatures than his certainly didn’t help. Jim freed himself from the tangle of arms and legs, went to the sleeping quarters and removed the pillows and blankets from the bed. It looked as if they were going to “camp out” on the floor, so they might as well be comfortable. He raised Bones’ head and slid a pillow underneath and covered him with one of the blankets. He was sound asleep and never took notice except that he pulled the cover up and rolled onto his side. Sitting down, he gave Spock the larger of the two pillows and spread the remaining blanket over them. He lay down and put his head on the pillow next to Spock’s. He tucked the cover around them, making sure Spock was going to stay warm. Spock wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, opening his eyes. For a time they just lay there and watched each other, and shared the occasional kiss. Jim remembered thinking to himself that being here like this was perfection in its highest form. But before long, other thoughts began to invade Jim’s thoughts. He began to think of Spock getting the lubricant from the cabinet beside his bed. Did Spock have lovers that Jim was unaware of? Even after what they had shared that evening, it felt strange asking his lover, “Spock, there’s not too many reasons to keep lubricant in a bedside cabinet. Mind if I ask why you do?” Spock lowered his eyes and replied, almost embarrassed, “Usually, I am able to overcome my body’s urges for physical stimulation through meditation. However, on the infrequent occasions that I must have physical release, I find it is quite helpful.” “You masturbate?” Jim stated, surprised. The thought had never occurred to him. He looked into the dark eyes and hoped his question had not made this man feel uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Spock. I just never considered that you had such needs that you weren’t able to deal with...logically. It’s certainly nothing unusual. Hell, we all do it from time to time!” He watched Spock’s expression relax, and Jim rested his head against the warm shoulder. The aroma radiating from the warm, satiated Vulcan was intoxicating. He loved this man so damned much. He snuggled closer to Spock. He was determined that no matter what the Starfleet brass would try, and he knew they were up to something, the three of them were going to stay together. Then another thought came to mind. “Spock, how did you know that McCoy would be a willing participant in this?” After a moment, Spock replied, “I discussed this possibility with him last evening” “What?” Jim asked. It felt as if a flash of ice water washed through his veins. “Through our many physical contacts, I had perceived an interest in such an encounter. I discussed with him the possibility of including you in a physical relationship. He was agreeable to the suggestion.” Suddenly Jim felt like an explosion had just taken place inside his skull! “Wait a minute, Spock! Do you mean that this evening was a set up? The two of you planned this? The possibility of ‘including’ me! What a fool I am!” Jim sat up throwing off the blanket. “Wha....what’s up,” McCoy asked, roused from his sleep by the increasing volume of Jim’s voice. “And YOU were in on it!” Jim seethed at McCoy. “Friends don’t set each other up for an ambush, Doctor!” Jim was scrounging through the pile of discarded clothes trying to sort out his clothes from the remainder in the stack. Pulling on his pants and finding the rest of the items that belonged to him, he felt as if the floor had just been pulled out from under him. “Of all of the people that I would have NEVER believed would betray me, it would have been the two of you! What was I, some trophy in your game? Well, FUCK YOU BOTH!” “JIM! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” McCoy shouted as he jumped to his feet. Jim grabbed up his boots, flung himself through the passage that connected his and Spock’s quarters and activated the lock. Once secured inside his cabin, he threw the items he was clutching against the wall and leaned back against the door. He had started shaking and could not stop. He slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. ‘How...How could they do this? Okay, Jim, just get a hold of yourself! What exactly just happened? You just let your first officer fuck you...that’s what! And Bones...oh God! How long have they been lovers?’ He didn’t want to think about that. ‘What was this, some kind of a bet?’ He knew Leonard McCoy’s propensity toward the occasional wager. ‘Maybe they’re no longer enough for each other. Looking for something a little more exciting, maybe?’ He sat there trying to sort out what it was he was feeling. He had been wanting, fantasizing, about being with them. Then he realized what was so difficult with this. They had ripped any control he had away from him. He would have been willing to do anything! Anything they wanted, he was theirs to command. ‘Oh God! Why did it have to feel so good? I’ve never lost control, not like this!’ But as the words echoed in his brain, he knew that was untrue. Once before he had given up all control to another. And, every day since, he had vowed to never give anyone that kind of power over him. It was a lesson he had obviously forgotten. Sitting there he could feel Spock’s fluid wanting to escape from him. He went to the bathroom, eager to rid himself of the contents he had so willingly received just a short time before. He climbed into the shower, dialed up spray of hot water and scrubbed his skin until he thought he would bleed. He could wash off the smell of the two of them, but would he ever be able to wash off the feeling of their betrayal or, worse yet, the betrayal to himself by letting it happen again? The days afterwards were filled with checklists and communications with Starfleet. Jim was a robot. He handled every situation with total efficiency and only went to his cabin to shower and change his uniform. He had, again, tried to get the information regarding his assignment from Starfleet, but to no avail. He felt as if his life was in a downward spiraling flat-spin, and he could do nothing to stop it. Spock had been noticeably absent from the bridge as he spent the last days of the mission in the science lab ensuring that everything was in order. Under Spock’s jurisdiction, the lab was always in order. The task was redundant. McCoy stayed in sickbay and what little communication that had to go on between the three was short and to the point. McCoy tried to talk to Jim when he asked for the final Medical Services report. That voice had almost weakened his resolve as the plea came through loud and clear, but Jim managed to keep it to a simple, “There is no explanation needed, Doctor McCoy.” With that, he pressed the button that ended the comm link with enough power to shatter the faceplate on the unit in his cabin, adding just one more thing to the list of needed repairs. Chapter 10 After the ship was securely docked, he was ordered to Starfleet Headquarters. Once there, the pressure to accept the newly vacated slot as Chief of Starfleet Operations was intense. Kirk was holding out for another turn in the center seat of a starship. Any starship. However he was advised that he could not be reassigned at this time. If he refused the position, he would be assigned to Starfleet Academy to await another assignment. Jim was well aware of what that meant; he would be buried at the academy. But if he accepted the Chief’s position, he would be promoted to a Grade I Admiral and, just maybe, there would be a possibility of getting back on a ship someday. He was well aware of the fact that this would put Komack directly over him. Komack was a Grade III Admiral and Jim’s department would fall directly under his command. It was one thing to have this man as your superior from ten light-years away, but quite another to have him down the hall. Watching the thin-lipped admiral, with Nogura seated at his side, he thought, ‘How have I lost all that I am so quickly? I gave into Spock and McCoy and now, just four days later, I am being forced into giving into the wishes of these men.’ Somewhere amidst the chaos of his thoughts was a thread that kept weaving its way through his mind. Accepting this position would be a way of distancing himself from the recent event in Spock’s cabin. The Admiralty would place a natural barrier between them, as well as squelch the infamous Starfleet rumor mill when he was not given another command. No one would ever believe he had been coerced into one of the top spots in the ‘Fleet. Hell, even Spock and McCoy would have to believe he had freely chosen this path. That gave him some amount of satisfaction, maybe the only satisfaction he would gain out of this mess. With a sigh he looked back at the senior men in front of him and nodded. “Very well. I see my options are limited, therefore I’ll accept the promotion and the assignment as Chief of Starfleet Operations.” Within minutes, all arrangements were made. Jim realized the arrangements had been made for weeks. Not for one second had they doubted their control over him. The official announcement was to come at the reception for the crew of the Enterprise. He was assigned a suite of offices and was advised he could begin moving into them at his convenience. Jim nodded his understanding, and his defeat, before he left the office. Boarding the lift to exit the building, he was grateful for the few moments of solitude. He knew that only a handful of officers were ever presented an opportunity like the one he had been given. And in what should have been one of the happiest days in his life, to Jim it was one of the most depressing. He felt like he had just been offered up on a platter as the main course. But, he decided on the ride down, what was done was done. The life he had led up to this point was over and he had better learn to make the best of it. He began to think of all there was to do before he reported to his newly awarded post. Just as he was beginning to feel somewhat reconciled to the situation, the doors of the lift opened and there stood Spock. “Spock,” he acknowledged in a strained voice. All of the crew had been reporting for debriefing; it was just his luck to run into his former first officer as he was reporting for his session. They stood there looking at each other for one breathless moment. “Captain,” the Vulcan finally replied. The doors started to close when Jim reached to stop them and got out. He walked quickly past the waiting man, but was stopped when he heard, “Captain Kirk, might I request a few minutes of your time?” Spock asked. That voice still had a way of unnerving him. He turned and replied, “I’m in a hurry.” Jim was not in any mood to have a confrontation over the events in Spock’s cabin, and he certainly didn’t care to discuss the events of this day. But, looking into the dark eyes that had been beside him these last years, he knew he could not just walk away from this man. There had to be a way to repair the damage. There had been too much between them to let it end this way. “But, yes,” his tone tempered, “I have a few minutes. How about out on the commons?” “That will be acceptable,” Spock stated, his hands clasped behind him as he followed Kirk through the mezzanine and out into the spacious area. The commons, which was surrounded on three sides by the buildings that comprised Starfleet Command Headquarters, had benches and paths surrounded by various foliage indicative of the different regions of Earth. Here you could find a cactus garden growing adjacent to an area that consisted of magnolia trees and azaleas. Normally a beautiful, serene area that Jim enjoyed walking through, but now was not the time to concentrate on the aesthetics. “Here?” Jim motioned to one of the stone benches. Spock nodded and sat down very rigidly on the edge of the bench. Jim sat down on the other end facing him. “Captain,” Spock began, “I must address the incident that arose four nights ago. I realize that it was an unforgivable flaw in judgment to approach you. I ask forgiveness for my conduct.” ‘Is that the way he saw it? He ripped away my control and he refers to it as a ‘flaw in judgment’?’ He looked at Spock and drew a long breath, trying to clear the anger that was welling up inside of him. After a long moment of silence, he asked, “Spock, why did the two of you place me in that situation?” Even though he tried to suppress it, the anger was obvious in his tone. “Captain, I claim sole responsibility for the event. It was I who suggested to the doctor that we engage in such a scenario. I mistakenly assumed that I was capable of incorporating passions into my nature and, in doing so, I allowed my emotions to overrule my reason. It was a grave error on my part and one which I found to be most unfulfilling. I have taken steps to prevent any such reoccurrence.” ‘Just great! He found me unfulfilling, as well!’ His anger was no longer disguised as he spat, “So sorry to disappoint you! You say you have taken steps. What steps have you taken?” “I have made arrangements to return to Vulcan. I will be resigning my commission immediately following the debriefing.” Staring at Spock, he asked in disbelief, “Resigning your commission? Have you thought this through? Hell…if you think you have to leave the service on my account, you’re seriously mistaken. I don’t give a damn what you do!” “Nevertheless, my allegiance to Starfleet has come to an end. I believe my answers lie on Vulcan.” “Fine, Spock, we all must make our own decisions! By the way, ‘Captain’ is no longer applicable. I am now ‘Admiral’ Kirk, Chief of Starfleet Operations. I suppose congratulations are in order all the way around. Both of us have found our answers.” Jim slung the words at Spock as he stood up. Spock looked at Jim and rose from the bench. There was a flicker of something in Spock’s eyes. What was it, pain, disgust, hatred, sorrow, whatever it was, the Vulcan veneer quickly replaced it. “I will take my leave of you, Admiral.” “Whatever, Spock. Good-bye.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He left the commons as quickly as possible and headed off to find a suitable apartment. It was the last time he saw Spock. Still sitting in his office and staring at the blank screen, he realized it had only taken him two and a half years to admit, if only to himself, that both McCoy and the Vulcan’s departures had left a vacant hole inside of him that no one else could ever fill. Chapter 11 Six hours after the call, Leonard McCoy boarded the transport for the trip to Starfleet. He was running on pure adrenaline. The whole thing seemed pretty fishy. In all his years of service to Starfleet, this was the only time he had ever heard of anyone being called up using the “Reserve Activation” clause. Whatever was out there, his instincts told him that it had to be bad. But whatever awaited him, it couldn’t be any worse than having to see Jim again. Their parting wasn’t exactly on the best of terms. He settled back in the seat and only then did he allow himself the time to reflect on the past. He remembered the sound of the lock activating on the connecting door, while in reality was a quiet hum, had sounded like an explosion to the two left standing in Spock’s quarters. After unsuccessfully trying the latch, he turned back to Spock. The Vulcan had donned a robe and was seated on the mat with his legs crossed and his hands steepled in front of him. “What the hell was THAT about, Spock?” he shouted. Spock looked up with the pain of a wounded animal radiating in his eyes. “He asked me how I had known that you would be a willing participant in a relationship involving the three of us. I explained to him that I had discussed this with you last night.” “You told him WHAT? For Gods sake, WHY?” “Because he asked me. I could not lie to him.” “Maybe we could have told him about that conversation at some point in the future, but not NOW! Not tonight for God’s sake! He probably feels like we trapped him!” “I cannot apologize for stating the truth, Doctor.” “Well, somebody better do some apologizing, and soon! We dock in three days!” His comment was met with silence. He could see that Spock had pulled back into his most Vulcan disposition. There was no talking to him when he was like this. He gathered up his clothes and quickly dressed himself. He went to his quarters and proceeded to try to get quite drunk. He failed. The next days were a blur. It was a good thing that everything had been ready for docking prior to that evening, or it would’ve never been done. He had tried to contact Spock, but his messages were not returned. Knowing that Spock would have to deal with this in his own way, he decided to leave him alone for the time being. He stayed in his office until the comm unit beeped. It was Jim requesting the final Medical Services report. He had it ready to feed into the computer but he had not done so. He plugged the chip in and hit send. “Jim, we need to talk. I need to speak to you about what happened. I think we owe you an explanation.” “No explanation needed, Doctor McCoy. I have things I must attend to. Kirk out,” was the response. The Enterprise docked and everyone left the ship. All personal were given temporary quarters in the Starfleet dormitories. There were the usual debriefings but the only time he saw Jim Kirk was from a distance at Headquarters. He was with Admiral Nogura and his staff. He hadn’t even been able to make eye contact with him. It had been four days since docking. Leonard had been informed that he was going to be sent to a starbase near Omula I due a recent outbreak of Quendine Fever. He was scheduled to leave immediately following the reception. He tried to find out where Spock’s temporary quarters were. He needed to talk to him before he was shipped out. No one at Headquarters would tell him anything regarding Spock, but he knew he was still in the city somewhere. All of the officers were still in the city, and would be until after the ceremony scheduled for that evening. He got back to his temporary quarters and got out the hated dress uniform that he would need to wear to the formal function honoring the Enterprise crew. On his way to the shower, the flashing of the wall unit caught his eye as he noticed he had a comm message waiting. Hoping for a moment it was from Spock or Jim, he was somewhat disappointed to see Scotty’s face appear. Scotty was saying that he had heard McCoy was leaving that night and wondered if he wanted to meet for drinks before the reception. The Scotsman informed him that he was going to stay with the Enterprise during the refit and filled him in on where some of the others had been assigned. He said that he hadn’t heard anything about the captain. Also, he wanted to ask if anyone had spoken with Spock. He stated that he had run into him as the Vulcan was boarding a transport the day after the Enterprise had arrived in space dock. Scotty said he couldn’t get more than a few words out of him, only that he had resigned his commission and was going back to live on Vulcan. He made it clear that he wouldn’t be returning to Starfleet. McCoy heard nothing else that Scotty was saying. He sent back a brief message stating he wouldn’t be able to meet the Scotsman, but would see him later at the reception. He grabbed the uniform he had been taking off and pulled the shirt back on, hung the dress uniform back in the closet and headed for Starfleet Headquarters. It took him over an hour to finally corner Jim. He was talking to Admiral Komack, the slimy worm, and McCoy burst in and told Jim that he needed to speak with him, “privately.” Knowing it was only because Jim wouldn’t cause a scene in front of Komack, his former captain excused himself and they headed for a deserted conference room. “Jim,” Leonard had lit into him as soon as the door was closed. “Are you aware that Spock has resigned his commission and returned to Vulcan?” “Yes, Doctor, I’m aware of that fact,” Jim had answered, coldly. “And you did NOTHING to stop him?” “Whatever decisions Mr. Spock chooses to make, it’s not my place to interfere.” “Jim, he has only gone back to Vulcan because of this THING between the three of us!” “Doctor, I do not wish to continue with this conversation, not now and certainly not here. Perhaps later when we can discuss this privately, but right now, I have other issues that need attending to.” It was then that Komack tapped at the door and, not waiting for a response, opened it and addressed Jim. “Admiral Kirk, we will be issuing the official statement this evening at the reception. If you have anything you wish to add to the announcement, you should make sure it is included before the final draft is completed.” “Thank you, Admiral Komack,” Jim replied, and turned back to Leonard. “Will there be anything else, Doctor? If not, then, as I said, I have things that need attending to.” “ADMIRAL KIRK! Jim, what the HELL have you done? You’ve given up your career to become one of the damn paper pushers that you always resented? Have you lost your fucking mind?” “No, Doctor, just found it. This is one decision that neither you nor Spock have control over. This decision was mine alone. Now, if there is nothing else.” McCoy had just stood there looking at him in disbelief, but said nothing, possibly speechless for the first time in his life. “Then, good bye, Doctor.” Jim had turned and walked away. Within two hours, McCoy had managed to cuss out every ‘higher-up’ he could find. Told anyone who would listen that they were losing the best captain the fleet had ever had. And, in that time, he also managed to resign his commission and book transportation to Vulcan. The transport landed, shaking Leonard back to the present. Arriving at Headquarters from the Middle Alliance, McCoy was briefed at Starfleet and reluctantly transported to the Enterprise. The first face that came into focus was Jim’s. When McCoy stepped off the pad, his mood was far from friendly. Jim could understand. He had pushed this man out of his life and suddenly Leonard was realizing it was Jim who had him recalled. Seeing this man for the first time in over two years, Jim realized that no matter what had transpired in the past, he needed McCoy. He wasn’t sure he could ever fully trust him, not in the same way, but he did need him. After the initial shock of seeing each other was over, and McCoy had asked and been given permission to board, Jim followed him to sickbay. After a few minutes, Leonard had cooled off and was looking around to see what the medical facilities needed. From what he could tell, it needed everything! How in hell, did they expect him to put together a sickbay outta this mess? And the design! “What idiot designed this atrocity?” he lamented as he looked around at the jumbled mess. “I hope to hell you didn’t have anything to do with this!” Jim perched one leg on the edge of a desk and folded his arms across his knee. “No, Bones, sickbay redesign is not under my jurisdiction.” “Well somebody doesn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground!” Leonard bemoaned. After his eyes had made a full sweep of the facility, all the time his head shaking, his gaze came back to the man in his office. There sitting on his desk, just as he has seen a thousand times before, was one of the faces that had haunted him for these last years. “Been in a fight?” he asked Jim. “A fight?” Jim furrowed his brow in confusion. “No, why do you ask?” “That,” Leonard said, as he nodding toward Jim’s hand. It had been wrapped in flesh-colored tape to camouflage the injury. “The bandage isn’t working, I see blood soaking through. What’d ya do, kill someone to get the center seat back?” Jim gave him a nasty look and then looked down at the hand. Turning the palm up, he could see traces of red beginning to soak through. “Just a cut. Nothing serious.” “Let me be the judge of that. Give it here.” Leonard unwrapped the bloody bandage and ran a scanner across the wounds. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There were two severed vessels along with several ligaments that had been nearly sliced through. “Good God, Jim, if I don’t repair this, you may lose the use of your fingers. Sit down.” He got the surgi-phaser kit powered up and in a few minutes he had the wound nearly closed. ‘How’d this happen?” “I broke a glass a couple of nights ago, nothing important.” “Well, it still looks nasty, but it’s sealed and you won’t have any permanent damage. You may have scars, but I can dissolve them later if you do.” He looked at Jim, “A glass, huh?” “Yeah, just a glass.” Leonard didn’t believe him, but he didn’t press it. ‘Great way to start,’ he thought. ‘My first log entry is gonna be a forgery. Oh well, some things never change.’ Jim got up to leave. When he got to the door he turned back and said, “Thanks Bones. I’m really glad to have you here, you know.” Leonard looked at this man who even after all this time had a disturbing effect on him. With a slight tug at his lips that pulled his mouth into a grin, he replied, “Get the hell outta here, I’ve got work to do!” “Oh, and Bones,” Jim said from the door of the unit, “the beard is non-reg, you know.” The door shut as Leonard was flinging a string of obscenities toward Jim’s direction. All that had transpired within those thirty-six hours was beyond belief. There had been transporter glitches resulting in the deaths of two crew members reporting to the ship, system failures, wormholes... and then, just when Kirk thought it couldn’t get any worse... Chapter 12 The day he arrived on Vulcan was a faint memory. He had not been able to eat or sleep since that night in his cabin. It was the pain of pon farr without the burning, and meditation had repeatedly failed him. He had betrayed the two men that he had allowed himself to love; one by conspiracy, and the other by denial. He had betrayed his heritage and himself. He knew he had to purge himself of these emotions, otherwise they would be his undoing. There was only one choice left to him if he was to regain all that he valued. Only through a complete immersion in logic would he be able to cleanse himself of all sensory agitation. The only answer was a life of dedication at Gol. He had contacted his father the day the Enterprise had docked at Earth Central. Spock, without reveling any more than was necessary, had asked his father to make the necessary arrangements. Sarek, even though Spock knew the raised eyebrow meant he disapproved, did as his son asked and a car and driver was waiting for him when he arrived at the Vulcan Transportation Center. Spock collapsed into the vehicle and was taken directly to the fortress that lay tucked into the side of the mountain. It was here where the steep cliffs met the floor of the desert that he would live out the remainder of his life. The next days were spent in an agonizing haze as he fought to expel all of the pent up sensations that had consumed him these last years. He could feel Leonard’s presence even before he was advised he was at the entrance. He knew he should go to him and explain why this is where he needed to be. But he knew if he saw him, he would be forever lost to the tangle of emotions that bound him. With the help of the Kolinahru, each of his passions were ripped from him one by one, leaving only the thick ugly scar of each deep within his mind. It was a full rotation of the Sister World before he could feel the calm of logic begin to take hold. He began to see that his whole life had been a series of irrational judgments. Where there had been chaos, a foundation of order began to grow. For twenty-six additional rotations known as Koreels, Spock had immersed himself in the disciplines of the Kolinahr. The Masters certainly did not allow pride to intervene in their ordered way of life, but what they felt toward this student was not far from it. With Spock being a hybrid, it was assumed he would not have the capability to achieve Kolinahru status. It was an incorrect assumption. In his time with them, Spock, son of Sarek, son of Solkar, had managed to achieve the highest degree of pure logic that is considered obtainable. All that was left was for the Koultuck, the giving of the symbol by the Vulcan Priestess, for him to be declared a full Master. It was planned that the ritual would take place on the day when the two planets nearest Vulcan would line up with the Vulcan sun. All three would become visible on the horizon simultaneously. It was an unusual event that only occurred every twenty-two Standard years, but it seemed a fitting time for this man. Spock had ridded himself of even his deepest passions, beginning with his earliest recollections of his childhood and culminating with the events that resulted in his arrival at the fortress. The rejections, the hurts, the pain, and the desires that had played a key role in his life and decisions, were no more. He had gone into the years spent in Starfleet and examined them closely; the friendships, loyalties, passions, betrayals, and feelings of lust were scrutinized in intimate detail. He had touched on the names, held them, felt them in his deepest recesses of his soul and assured himself that these stirred no feelings within him. All that was left were bits of information logically filed away. He had achieved all that he had worked toward. He was pure logic. The garment he would wear was brought to him. He stripped off the robe of the student and donned the ceremonial accoutrements of a Master, complete with the ancient embossed breastplate made from the hardened skins of long extinct, indigenous animals. He waited for the entourage that would accompany him to the most holy of places. He knelt on the terrace in quiet meditation prior to the ceremony. After completing all stages of meditation, he rose up from the terrace tiles and looked out over the desert. He felt the strength of the desert flow through to him. In the black sky, he saw the sister-world, T'Kuht, roll toward the place where it would meet the yet unseen orange sun. He watched as the other planet, the Planet of Surak’s soul, appear as an orange orb that rose between them from beneath the horizon where it would take its place between the two glowing planets. He knew the time was near. Drawing peace from the sight, he felt a twinge of something familiar. Knowing this was only the peace of pure logic he turned when the Masters came for him. They made their way up the stone path to the site of the ceremony. It was a place that had seen this same ritual take place thousands of times over the centuries since Surak. Peace. He knelt before the Priestess and looked up to her. Her weathered face bore the calm he had worked to achieve. He breathed a cleansing breath and prepared to have the symbol placed about his neck. In readiness, he steepled his fingers. As the ancient words were being spoken, he saw the astrological event taking place behind her. He saw the bright star move into position where it was flanked by two glowing planets. There was something about the sight that seemed to call to him. He squinted his eyes and looked past her. Something about this tugged at his memory. Although most illogical, it seemed as if he had once belonged there. The pain came. He knew what this sight represented, and he felt a stirring within from the realization. Jim, the golden being he would have laid down his life for, flanked by Leonard and himself. ‘No!” he demanded of himself. Such thoughts, such stirrings belonged to the life he had long since left behind. He breathed deeply, trying not to let the sight undo all he had accomplished. ‘PEACE. Find the calm of logic,’ he mentally appealed to his sense of reason. Grasping for the teachings of these last years, he searched desperately within himself for his center of logic, and failed. Her hands rose, the jewels and gold catching the light of the sun, ready to place the symbol around his neck. ‘Wait!’ his hand went up to block hers. He could not accept this, not yet, not now. “Your thoughts, give them to me,” she demanded in the most ancient language. Her fingers found the meld points, and until the very instant that he felt her join with him he fought to rid himself of these emotions. But unable to grasp onto the teachings of these last years, their minds merged; all of the sensations that he was experiencing became exposed. Together, their minds as one, they moved through his thoughts. There was logic of the highest order, an unmatched understanding of all of the Kolinahr disciplines, a precise and ordered subconscious that every student of Gol strove to achieve, resulting in perfect streams of thought. As she moved with him through his ordered mind, he discerned what could nearly be called envy at his complete understanding of these principles. However, moving deeper, this new awareness was unfolding before them. It was a warmth that spread throughout his very soul. Love. Love for two humans. An undying, all consuming love with a depth that the recorded histories of the ages had only theorized about. There was an awaking of the spirit that could never be answered through logic alone. The heavy chain of the symbol slipped through her fingers and the stones and metal that comprised the medallion fell to the hard, stone tiles. The sound seemed to echo around them, as if a phaser blast had just gone off within his mind. The jolt of the sound brought him back to full awareness. He watched as she turned and walked away. He reached down and caressed the stones as they lay shimmering in the brightness of the Vulcan sun. Picking up the medallion, he felt the weight of it in his hand. Then, his shields down and no barrier standing between him and the universe, he heard the calling of another. He turned to look into the western sky. He knew where his answers lay. Home/Next Chapters |