Gravity (Chapter III)
Title: Gravity
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Length: 5,052 (this part)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: Kirk and Spock, from hatred to ambivalence. From aquaintances to friends. From best friends to lovers. All of the trials and tribulations in between. Starting right from the very beginning, all of the awkward moments and long silences included.
Notes:
Chapter One can be found here. Please go there for the ridiculously long author's not explaining the origins of this story =).
Chapter Two is here!
Chapter Three
Jim denied every application for first officer that he got, informing them all that the position had already been filled, even though it hadn’t. Well, it had, in his mind. He was busy for the next six weeks, kept running around with formalities and the accelerated command course that Starfleet insisted that he take and kept busy with paperwork. Electronic paperwork, but paperwork nonetheless. It was annoying. Unfortunately he could tell that it was just the tip of the iceberg - clearly paperwork was the brunt of the Captain’s job. Still, it was worth it for all the other perks of the position.
He hadn’t seen young Spock again since their fateful meeting at his quarters, but Sulu had informed him that he was still around the campus, so hopefully that meant he wasn’t resigning. And apparently Sulu was always right, so he trusted in him. “Jim,” Bones was saying one night while he was packing up all of his personal effects to move to the Enterprise. He was sitting in Paul’s chair. His side of the room had been stripped bare the two weeks before, a shock when Jim had walked through the door and seen the clothing, the trophies, everything gone. “Jim, you have to pick a first officer. Why don’t you pick Sulu?”
“Sulu’s a good guy, Bones, and he’d make a great first officer, but honestly, I want it to be Spock.”
“I don’t think Spock will be coming,” Bones slurped his alcoholic drink noisily and Jim rolled his eyes.
“He will,” Jim assured him.
And he did. The feeling Jim got when the turbolift opened to reveal Spock was indescribable, like the greatest victory imaginable, “Permission to come aboard?” he asked and of course it was granted, Jim rising from the chair, trying to contain the glee as Spock continued. “Should you desire, I can provide character references,” he said and Jim nearly lost it. Who said Vulcans didn’t have senses of humour?
“It would be my honour,” he replied instead, ordering their immediate departure.
The first mission was, unsurprisingly, related to New Vulcan. It stood to reason that they’d be helping out the new colony, given that Vulcan had been an important and central part of the Federation. Their first mission was relatively simple. They were essentially acting as a cargo ship for some very important and valuable technology. The new planet for the Vulcan colony was suitable in many ways, uninhabited and uncontested, but the terraforming equipment they carried would greatly assist them. They also had some experimental crops they were hoping would grow in the colony’s unusual soil.
They didn’t have much to do, besides the obvious directive of delivering the equipment safe from harm or damage. This meant Jim had to keep Scotty away from it at all costs, lest he attempt to “improve” the equipment. The man enjoyed doing that far too much, even when he had no idea what purpose the machine he was tinkering with had. Otherwise, it was a pretty good starter mission. Not too difficult, but with a definite purpose that he could work towards.
He started out his first shift quietly, observing how each person worked and what they were best at. Jim wasn’t afraid to wander around the bridge, checking up on people and testing his memory, looking for names of crew members. After a couple of hours, he got stuck in on some important duties from his central post of his command chair. Important duties meant filling out forms.
As it turned out -- as he checked through the departure paperwork, a while later -- Spock had never been approved to be on this vessel. He had just hacked in and added his name to the list of personnel stationed there. That sneaky bastard. Jim couldn’t keep the smirk off his face at the thought of Spock breaking rules so that he could be on the Enterprise. It was a great turn of events.
He fixed any problems by sending through his signature on Spock’s file, making sure that this couldn’t somehow come back to bite him in the rear. He also filled out the appropriate form to make Spock the First Officer, which he had to take to the Vulcan to get signed as well. He sauntered over holding the PADD and containing no small amount of smug pride, “Mr. Spock,” he said when he was standing at his shoulder, “A moment of your time please.”
“Of course, Captain,” said Spock, turning in his chair and rising gracefully.
“You don’t need to get up,” offered Jim, waving his hand, “I always thought that standing when your commanding officer walks into a room is a bit of a waste of time.” Spock sank back into his chair, looking at Jim dubiously. Well, if he looked more closely, Spock really wasn’t looking at him dubiously. There wasn’t really an emotion on his face at all. Jim was going to have to learn to not project emotions onto Spock that just weren’t there, “How’re you settling in?” he decided to ask, even though he usually despised small-talk.
“Given that I held the Bridge Science Officer position prior to this voyage, I am having no difficulty with any tasks I have yet been assigned.”
Not quite the answer he’d been looking for, but that was okay, “Still want to be my first officer?”
“Captain, as I have not informed you of any desire to retract my application, I fail to see why you may have doubts about this,” Spock sounded bored. Like talking to Jim was tedious, and he couldn’t have that. Scotty would never appreciate it if he let the Enterprise get boring.
“Well in that case, would you mind signing off on the official form?” he held out the PADD and Spock took it in long fingers, careful not to touch Jim’s hands with his own. His eyes scanned the document and, apparently finding it satisfactory, there was a quick sweep of his hand and there was the signature. The Vulcan handed it back and Jim thanked him.
“Are there any other duties you require of me at this time, Captain?”
“No, no, your signature is all that was needed. Carry on.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Spock, clearly just as a formality.
Jim spent the rest of the afternoon in his chair, studying. He was nervous about commanding the Enterprise with so little experience. Though he had the extremely knowledgeable Spock to help him, a Captain was no good unless he knew everything about the ship that there was to know.
//
Jim entered his quarters for the first time that night. They were a moderate size - about the same as the room he had shared with Paul, only he was alone in these quarters. They were split into two areas. Near the entrance door was a small office area with a desk and a computer. Behind it was a divider and then the bedroom area, a wide, red sheeted bed filling most of it. He smiled to see the colour of the sheets, feeling at home already. In the center of the room was his single suitcase. He didn’t have much with him, having brought nothing from Iowa to the Academy, and not having accumulated much besides some clothing.
He unpacked quickly, putting everything in its place and nodding in approval. Contrary to popular belief, Jim was actually very tidy. He hated having things out of place, because then you could never find them when you needed them, and that was just annoying! What was the point in that?
Plus it made the strewn clothes the-morning-after stand out against the otherwise pristine room. He liked that.
Falling asleep took a while. He lay on his back in his room, staring at the blank white ceiling. He was too hyped up to go to sleep. Here he was, Captain of the Enterprise, on his first mission. It was like all of his dreams had come true. Only, they had all come true at once and had been thrust at him. It was all a bit overwhelming. Hundreds of lives were under his command. Life or death, and it was all up to him, and he had never had any field experience before. Talk about pressure. He lay for a long time, worrying. Eventually his exhaustion overtook him and he was asleep for the remainder of the night.
//
Bones seemed to be settling in well as Chief Medical Officer. They discussed it as they sat in Bones’ office the next morning, sipping small amounts of whiskey. Bones had never believed in the not-drinking-before-noon rule. This was probably because half the time he just didn’t go to sleep all night. Sadly the doctor was limiting his alcohol intake while on duty, so that meant Jim only got a quarter-glass too. “I’d also appreciate you not hitting on Nurse Chapel next time you come here.”
“But she’s gorgeous. And single.”
“She’s also your subordinate and my co-worker, so leave her alone. I’m warning you right now - and this goes for your entire career - I’m not helping you out if you get into any sexual harassment cases,” Bones nodded decisively and drained the rest of his glass, fingers clearly itching to pour more. He didn’t, which was just as well because Jim really didn’t feel like lecturing him on being drunk while operating. Lecturing was more of Bones’ thing, and trying to encroach on that territory would just make any future lectures from him even worse.
“Fine, fine, no more hitting on Nurse Chapel. However, there is this one Lieutenant down in Engineering who is just,” he made a gesture with his fingers, kissing into the air.
“Jim, you can’t do anything with these girls. You’re their Captain!”
“You know I don’t care much for regulations in general, and I think that one’s stupid,” Jim huffed, “If it’s between two consenting adults, who cares?”
“It’s because you’re their Captain and they might feel like they have to consent.” Bones leant back precariously in his chair, “They used to have a lot of problems with it back in early days of a co-gender military on Earth. It gets a bit fuzzy when people think they have to have sex with their superior officer or their career is going to be ruined.”
Appalled, Jim’s mouth fell open, “I’d never do that!”
“I know you wouldn’t. But not everyone knows you as well as I do, and honestly, it’s a bad idea anyway. It’s not like you can get away from them if they’re crazy or something. This is a space ship. It’s a contained area,” the Doctor was giving him a serious look. Bones’ serious looks always gave Jim the chills. They usually meant something was horribly wrong, or that he was about to get stabbed in the neck with a needle containing god-knows-what. “Just don’t do it.”
“But I like sex,” whined Jim, ignoring Bones informing him that he didn’t need to know anything more about this, “I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get some.”
“Should have thought of that before you saved Earth and got promoted.”
Jim groaned. Bones laughed.
//
Scotty seemed to be fitting in fine in Engineering, although from the dirty looks some of the more senior engineers were giving him, it could be reasonably assumed that they didn’t appreciate this genius coming in and telling them to rewire half of the consoles. Scotty took great pleasure in informing him of all the ways in which the Enterprise was lacking, going into great detail about silly nuances like the colour of the flashing lights that indicated that some oil for some machine needed changing. This wasn’t very interesting, but he pretended to listen and care. In the end, that paid off, because Scotty took him on a tour of the Jeffries tubes, which felt a lot like being a kid in a play structure, crawling around through plastic tubes. Only, sadly, there were no ball-pits on the Enterprise.
Jim ate lunch with Scotty, who, unsurprisingly, was eating a sandwich, “So glad we have replicators here! Have you ever gone months without real food?”
“Yeah,” answered Jim without thinking about it. When he noticed the curious look on Scotty’s face, he grinned as if joking, “Yeah, that sucks.” Whoops. Didn’t really want to be elaborating on that one.
Scotty didn’t look wholly convinced but continued munching his sandwich, chatting about more changes he was planning to make. “You think you could stabilize the Captain’s chair then?” asked Jim eventually, enjoying his own BLT.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I spun around in it earlier and it felt wobbly. I want to be able to twirl in that thing as much as I like without fearing toppling over at any second. Can you imagine if the chair actually fell?”
“That image is enough to make me wanna loosen the screws, Cap’n,” said Scotty, smirking, “But I suppose since you’re my superior officer, I cannae refuse. Anyway, your screws are loose enough as it is.”
Jim laughed and finished his food, unable to keep his eyes from the Asian girl hovering behind Scotty’s shoulder, obviously waiting to talk to him. And he certainly wanted to talk to her - the girl was fine. When the chief engineer inevitably got called away for an “emergency” that was probably just that one of the dials on one of the consoles had gotten stuck, she shyly approached him, “Captain.”
“Lieutenant Saito.”
She smiled, all pretty white, straight teeth. Her hair was tied up, black silk spilling down her back, pulled smooth across the top of her head, “How are you today, sir?”
He shot her a cocky grin, “I’m well, thanks. And you? Hope Lieutenant-Commander Scott isn’t working you too hard.”
“He’s great, actually. He’s really funny,” she batted her eyelashes at him, and god did he ever want to tap that.
Sadly, Spock apparently had different ideas because he interrupted five minutes later, just as he was starting the casually-getting-closer move, “Bridge to Captain,” whistled the nearby console, the voice obviously Spock’s.
“Yes, Mr. Spock?” he responded curtly, reluctantly leaving Lieutenant Saito and snapping on the response button.
“Captain, there is a message for you from Starfleet. I would suggest you return to the bridge in order to hear it.”
He did so, stepping out onto the main bridge fewer than five minutes later. Spock vacated the chair immediately for him, and he sank into it, noticing that it was much warmer than usual, “What have you got for me, Lieutenant Uhura?”
“Replaying message, Captain,” she replied levelly, and a man’s face filled the screen.
He was much older than Jim, (not surprising, given that he was the youngest Captain in the fleet), with skin lined in wrinkles. He seemed humourless, as if his years in the Admiralty had sucked the soul right out of him, “Captain Kirk. When you have finished your mission to New Vulcan, you have a new assignment. Near New Vulcan is planet Yanar. They are a candidate to join the Federation. When you have delivered the terra-forming equipment, proceed to Earth Colony Seventy-Six. Pick up Ambassador Grace, who will be leading the talks. You are expected to beam down with the Ambassador when you reach Yanar.
Your role is not to talk, but to merely make an appearance. All agreements will be made by Ambassador Grace, seconded by Commander Spock, and then signed by all parties present. The talks should be simple, as Yanar is a peaceful planet. You are expected to represent the Federation well and to provide protection for Ambassador Grace.” The message ended shortly thereafter.
Jim frowned. The whole thing carried an air of, “don’t you dare fuck this up. If you do, you’ll be out of the fleet faster than Warp 10.”
He supposed that was going to be the pervading theme for at least a while, considering the circumstances by which he got promoted, “Thanks, Uhura,” he said, pressing his knuckles to his mouth in thought. “Sulu,” he said shortly, “Estimated time ‘til arrival at New Vulcan?”
“Seventeen hours, thirty-two minutes, sir.”
“Thank you,” he glanced at the chronometer. 1400. So they would arrive there at about 0630. He thrilled to think about successfully completing his first mission, even if that mission was only delivering a machine, and even if it only took two days. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, after all. “Spock,” he said some minutes later.
“Yes, Captain?” came the immediate reply.
“I’ve never heard of planet Yanar before. Is there much information on it?” he spun in his chair so that he could see Spock. It wobbled slightly as he did so, and he remembered his request for Scotty to do something about it.
“There is not much, sir,” said Spock dully, “It was only recently that they developed Warp Speed, therefore only recently have we been able to contact them without breaking the Prime Directive. They are a peaceful planet, but many of their deeper customs have yet to be studied. The Federation is interested in the planet for their advanced forms of medicine. Shall I transfer the files on Yanar to your terminal?”
“Yes please,” Jim had hardly finished the first word before the files popped up right there, “Thank you, Commander Spock.”
The remainder of the shift passed quickly, Jim reading everything he could find on the planet, determined not to make a fool out of himself on his first diplomatic mission.
He ate dinner with Bones in the mess, who had some choice words regarding the competency of some of his staff, “And the bloody moron grabbed the wrong vaccination. If it had been you we were injecting, you probably would have died. Sometimes I wonder where Starfleet gets these people. No matter. Kid seems bright enough. I’ll have him reciting the ingredients of all of those vaccines soon enough. He thinks he had it bad in the Academy? Well, he hasn’t even begun to experience McCoy teaching methods.”
“I gotta admit, if I were being trained by you, I’d request a transfer ASAP. You’re scary.”
Bones’ expression was very frightening, although he probably would never admit it, “I am not. You just bring my wrath upon yourself by being a careless idiot.”
“How am I a careless idiot?” Jim stuck a potato in his mouth, “I’ll have you know that I got a hundred percent on my academy entrance exams.”
Bones rolled his eyes. It was Jim’s personal feeling that one day those eyes would fall out of his head altogether, from the sheer amount of movement they were subjected to. “I know that. You tell me that at least once a week. Doesn’t stop you from being a complete idiot.”
Jim pouted. It was an adorable expression. It really was. It just didn’t work on Bones, because Bones had no soul. What a sad state of affairs. “Well, fine,” he said, “then I will continue being afraid of you.”
“You like it,” scowled Bones. Jim scowled back. Sadly, it was true.
When they finally finished their food, they dumped their trays and made their way back to their quarters, stopping at Jim’s first, “Oh Bones,” he cooed as his door slid open behind him, “Thanks for dinner. I had such a lovely time,” at Bones’ darkening expression, he batted his eyelashes, “Did you want to come in?”
Bones flipped him the finger and stalked off, footsteps echoing in time to Jim’s laughter.
//
They reached New Vulcan on schedule and the beam-down went without incident. Jim didn’t say anything stupid, Spock didn’t do anything crazy, and everything went well. Mostly. Jim didn’t think Sarek left the ship with any kind of newfound love and respect for him, but that wasn’t really a bad thing.
It began like this:
“Enterprise to New Vulcan.”
“New Vulcan Space Center,” came back the reply.
Jim smiled, “This is Captain James Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise,” that flowed off the tongue nicely, Jim thought, “requesting co-ordinates to beam down equipment.”
“One moment, please,” there was a long pause and Jim began to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair. Spock was standing straight-backed beside him, and Jim distinctly noticed Spock’s dark eyes watching his fingers repetitively tapping across the shiny surface. He didn’t stop, if only to annoy the Vulcan. Sadly, he didn’t react. How boring. Eventually the Vulcan Space Center replied, “Co-ordinates will be forwarded to your transporter room. Furthermore, there is a request from Ambassador Sarek.”
Spock’s eyes left Jim’s fingers at that, and snapped up to face the view-screen where New Vulcan was slowly rotating below them. “Go ahead,” said Jim.
“He requests to be beamed aboard for a short period of time. This would be for the purpose of conversing with Commander Spock on a matter of some importance. It would delay you not more than an hour.”
Jim looked up at Spock, but the Vulcan had a starkly blank expression. “I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with Sarek, Captain.”
“Of course,” said Jim, and then addressed Vulcan, “That’ll be fine. We’ll beam him up and then beam down the equipment, if that’s alright with you?”
“That is an acceptable course of action. Please proceed immediately.”
They made their way down to the transporter room, where they encountered a gleeful Scotty.
“What’re you so happy about, Mr. Scott?” asked Jim, feeling a smile slide onto his face in response to the Engineer’s good mood.
Scotty was punching in commands at the transporter console with deft fingers, “In all the other ship experience I’ve had, ev’ry time you visit a new planet, it’s a bloody hassle tryin’ to beam summat down. Or up. They never give us proper co-ordinates. But the Vulcans seem to be tryin’ to make life easier for us for once, an’ have given me proper beam-up and down points.” He seemed to finish what he was doing, and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the terra-forming equipment, which was on a floating skid over in the corner of the room. “Plus we’ll finally be able to unload this inefficient piece o’ crap. I still don’t know why you wouldn’t let me fix it up a little.”
“I wouldn’t let you fix it up because you know nothing about terra-forming equipment!” Jim laughed at him and leaned his hip against the console. Spock stood behind him. He was rather like a living statue, Jim thought. “If you want to fix up some sort of superior communicator, I’m all for that, but this is expensive equipment here that you know nothing about.”
Jim rather got the impression then that Scotty was resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at him. “I know a lot more about it than you do, Cap’n.”
“Oh, I might surprise you, Scotty,” Jim grinned, “Beam up the Ambassador.”
He did so, and the man appeared in a swirl of white light. The more he looked at him, the more he could see the strong family resemblance between Sarek and Spock. He had never seen Spock’s mother, so he couldn’t speak to what features of Spock looked like her. Sarek had the same long face, same mouth and nose. And of course, the same haircut. Why did Vulcans all cut their hair that way? Did they take a vote on it and decide that that was the most logical haircut or something?
“Good morning, Ambassador Sarek,” he greeted in his best polite-voice.
“Captain Kirk,” he replied, “I am appreciative of your accepting my request. Spock and I have certain matters to discuss.”
And if people said that Vulcans were emotionless, that was a lie. Sarek had all the airs of a disapproving parent upset with their child for disobeying them. Jim had to suppress a smile. It was an expression he had seen many times in his life. Then he realised what Sarek was probably disapproving of, and he frowned. “You can use the conference room right across the hall,” he offered instead of commenting on their familial situation, “We’ll get right on transporting this equipment.”
“We shall try not to delay your departure,” said Sarek, gliding out into the hallway, a sombre Spock trailing behind him.
Jim nodded, amused, “Sure thing,” and then went back to the transporter room to ‘supervise’ while everyone else did the heavy lifting. One of the perks of being Captain was not having to do menial labour. Although he still seemed to get put to work for Scotty whenever the Engineer felt like it. Note to self, he thought, put Scotty in his place.
That thought done, and supervisory duties done, there was nothing more to do besides wait for Spock. The minutes ticked by slowly as he leant against the wall in the hallway, staring at the door to the conference room as if it would make Sarek and Spock’s ‘discussion’ progress faster. Sarek and Spock were funny names. Was it some kind of rule that Vulcan names all started with ‘S’, finished with ‘K’ and were five letters long? He wracked his brain trying to think of other Vulcan names he had heard in the past. None besides the obvious “Surak” came to mind. He didn’t exactly know any other Vulcans. And of course, Surak fit the pattern. So it was plausible.
But then there had been six billion Vulcans. How many possible names could there be? He thought for a moment, stretching his mind back to basic math class in high school. Well, if the first and the last letter had to stay the same, there would be three variable letters and twenty-six possible choices. So there would be 17,576 combinations. But then that would allow for completely nonsensical names like “Ssqgk”. So really that was too complicated to work out. Well, if he made sure that there was a vowel included in the word, then that would both decrease the number of possible permutations and also raise the chances of the name making sense.
Jim was just about to start working that out (that’s what he did when he was bored. He thought about nonsensical things) when the door to the conference hall slid open. He stood away from the wall and smiled brightly at them. They didn’t return the expression, of course, but he wasn’t expecting the darkening expressions on their faces. “All done?” he asked brightly.
“We are,” said Sarek, “Spock has made his decision.”
“Oh?” asked Jim, looking over at Spock with raised eyebrows.
“I am remaining in Starfleet,” Spock clarified, sounding about as excited about the prospect as Jim was about eating shrimp. He didn’t like eating shrimp. He was allergic to them.
Sarek didn’t look happy. “Your loss is our gain,” said Jim jokingly, and Spock’s blank look turned into a glare. Whoops. Maybe not the best thing to say when someone has just refused to help their endangered species rebuild in favour of gallivanting off with a bunch of humans to take part in dangerous missions of peril and excitement. Whatever. Too late to take it back now.
“Yes,” said Sarek, with a pointed look at Spock, “Our loss.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for several seconds, the three men standing in the hallway. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. James Kirk was more than willing to provide that knife, “So, thanks for your visit, Ambassador Sarek. You’re always welcome here on the Enterprise.”
“Thank you, Captain Kirk,” he said as they re-entered the transporter room, “You and Spock are always welcome on Vulcan.”
The emphasis he placed on his son’s name made Jim’s insides squirm uncomfortably. He knew how it felt to be pressured to do something you weren’t sure you wanted to do. So he quickly shuffled Sarek back to the transporter and left with Spock as soon as possible.
“Good work, Spock,” he said as they walked back to the bridge together. Their gait matched very well - apparently their steps were the same size.
“I appreciate your acknowledgment of my satisfactory performance,” said Spock, not looking at him, “I am also relieved that thus far, your command seems to be acceptable.”
“Uhhh,” Jim wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. It was probably best with Spock to just take everything he said at face value. That is, to say, he was saying Jim was doing okay, rather than insinuating that he had believed Jim would not be able to handle command, “Thank you, Mr. Spock.”
A tilt of the head was the response as they entered the turbolift, “So, Spock. Your dad wants you to move to Vulcan, I guess?”
“He believes it would be the more logical course of action for me,” said Spock, as if it were obvious. His tone of voice clearly stated that he still didn’t like Jim and didn’t really want to be sharing intimate conversations with him. That really kind of sucked. Jim hoped they would be more tolerant of each other soon.
Jim didn’t say anything more, unable to think of something else to say. How they were ever supposed to become the greatest of friends, he didn’t know. They didn’t seem to have anything in common, no basis to stand their relationship on. Maybe he should call the older Spock some time. Ask what it was they did together.
Well, they still had five years to get to know each other. He wasn’t going to push it now.
The lift doors opened and they walked out into the bridge, bright lights of the consoles flashing in his eyes, momentarily blinding. Jim crossed the floor to settle into the chair, a place where he was beginning to feel more and more comfortable. Literally. The chair was comfy, “Sulu,” the Asian turned to meet his eyes. He was smiling, in a good mood. Jim was abruptly very glad that he was on his crew, even if he had taken 20 credits of his money in that bet, “Plot a course for Earth Colony Seventy-Six, please.”
“Already done, Captain,” definitely a reason why he’d hired him.
“Alright, lay in, Warp Factor Four.”
“Aye, sir,” he said, deft fingers sliding over the buttons on the console.
//
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Length: 5,052 (this part)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: Kirk and Spock, from hatred to ambivalence. From aquaintances to friends. From best friends to lovers. All of the trials and tribulations in between. Starting right from the very beginning, all of the awkward moments and long silences included.
Notes:
Chapter One can be found here. Please go there for the ridiculously long author's not explaining the origins of this story =).
Chapter Two is here!
Chapter Three
Jim denied every application for first officer that he got, informing them all that the position had already been filled, even though it hadn’t. Well, it had, in his mind. He was busy for the next six weeks, kept running around with formalities and the accelerated command course that Starfleet insisted that he take and kept busy with paperwork. Electronic paperwork, but paperwork nonetheless. It was annoying. Unfortunately he could tell that it was just the tip of the iceberg - clearly paperwork was the brunt of the Captain’s job. Still, it was worth it for all the other perks of the position.
He hadn’t seen young Spock again since their fateful meeting at his quarters, but Sulu had informed him that he was still around the campus, so hopefully that meant he wasn’t resigning. And apparently Sulu was always right, so he trusted in him. “Jim,” Bones was saying one night while he was packing up all of his personal effects to move to the Enterprise. He was sitting in Paul’s chair. His side of the room had been stripped bare the two weeks before, a shock when Jim had walked through the door and seen the clothing, the trophies, everything gone. “Jim, you have to pick a first officer. Why don’t you pick Sulu?”
“Sulu’s a good guy, Bones, and he’d make a great first officer, but honestly, I want it to be Spock.”
“I don’t think Spock will be coming,” Bones slurped his alcoholic drink noisily and Jim rolled his eyes.
“He will,” Jim assured him.
And he did. The feeling Jim got when the turbolift opened to reveal Spock was indescribable, like the greatest victory imaginable, “Permission to come aboard?” he asked and of course it was granted, Jim rising from the chair, trying to contain the glee as Spock continued. “Should you desire, I can provide character references,” he said and Jim nearly lost it. Who said Vulcans didn’t have senses of humour?
“It would be my honour,” he replied instead, ordering their immediate departure.
The first mission was, unsurprisingly, related to New Vulcan. It stood to reason that they’d be helping out the new colony, given that Vulcan had been an important and central part of the Federation. Their first mission was relatively simple. They were essentially acting as a cargo ship for some very important and valuable technology. The new planet for the Vulcan colony was suitable in many ways, uninhabited and uncontested, but the terraforming equipment they carried would greatly assist them. They also had some experimental crops they were hoping would grow in the colony’s unusual soil.
They didn’t have much to do, besides the obvious directive of delivering the equipment safe from harm or damage. This meant Jim had to keep Scotty away from it at all costs, lest he attempt to “improve” the equipment. The man enjoyed doing that far too much, even when he had no idea what purpose the machine he was tinkering with had. Otherwise, it was a pretty good starter mission. Not too difficult, but with a definite purpose that he could work towards.
He started out his first shift quietly, observing how each person worked and what they were best at. Jim wasn’t afraid to wander around the bridge, checking up on people and testing his memory, looking for names of crew members. After a couple of hours, he got stuck in on some important duties from his central post of his command chair. Important duties meant filling out forms.
As it turned out -- as he checked through the departure paperwork, a while later -- Spock had never been approved to be on this vessel. He had just hacked in and added his name to the list of personnel stationed there. That sneaky bastard. Jim couldn’t keep the smirk off his face at the thought of Spock breaking rules so that he could be on the Enterprise. It was a great turn of events.
He fixed any problems by sending through his signature on Spock’s file, making sure that this couldn’t somehow come back to bite him in the rear. He also filled out the appropriate form to make Spock the First Officer, which he had to take to the Vulcan to get signed as well. He sauntered over holding the PADD and containing no small amount of smug pride, “Mr. Spock,” he said when he was standing at his shoulder, “A moment of your time please.”
“Of course, Captain,” said Spock, turning in his chair and rising gracefully.
“You don’t need to get up,” offered Jim, waving his hand, “I always thought that standing when your commanding officer walks into a room is a bit of a waste of time.” Spock sank back into his chair, looking at Jim dubiously. Well, if he looked more closely, Spock really wasn’t looking at him dubiously. There wasn’t really an emotion on his face at all. Jim was going to have to learn to not project emotions onto Spock that just weren’t there, “How’re you settling in?” he decided to ask, even though he usually despised small-talk.
“Given that I held the Bridge Science Officer position prior to this voyage, I am having no difficulty with any tasks I have yet been assigned.”
Not quite the answer he’d been looking for, but that was okay, “Still want to be my first officer?”
“Captain, as I have not informed you of any desire to retract my application, I fail to see why you may have doubts about this,” Spock sounded bored. Like talking to Jim was tedious, and he couldn’t have that. Scotty would never appreciate it if he let the Enterprise get boring.
“Well in that case, would you mind signing off on the official form?” he held out the PADD and Spock took it in long fingers, careful not to touch Jim’s hands with his own. His eyes scanned the document and, apparently finding it satisfactory, there was a quick sweep of his hand and there was the signature. The Vulcan handed it back and Jim thanked him.
“Are there any other duties you require of me at this time, Captain?”
“No, no, your signature is all that was needed. Carry on.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Spock, clearly just as a formality.
Jim spent the rest of the afternoon in his chair, studying. He was nervous about commanding the Enterprise with so little experience. Though he had the extremely knowledgeable Spock to help him, a Captain was no good unless he knew everything about the ship that there was to know.
//
Jim entered his quarters for the first time that night. They were a moderate size - about the same as the room he had shared with Paul, only he was alone in these quarters. They were split into two areas. Near the entrance door was a small office area with a desk and a computer. Behind it was a divider and then the bedroom area, a wide, red sheeted bed filling most of it. He smiled to see the colour of the sheets, feeling at home already. In the center of the room was his single suitcase. He didn’t have much with him, having brought nothing from Iowa to the Academy, and not having accumulated much besides some clothing.
He unpacked quickly, putting everything in its place and nodding in approval. Contrary to popular belief, Jim was actually very tidy. He hated having things out of place, because then you could never find them when you needed them, and that was just annoying! What was the point in that?
Plus it made the strewn clothes the-morning-after stand out against the otherwise pristine room. He liked that.
Falling asleep took a while. He lay on his back in his room, staring at the blank white ceiling. He was too hyped up to go to sleep. Here he was, Captain of the Enterprise, on his first mission. It was like all of his dreams had come true. Only, they had all come true at once and had been thrust at him. It was all a bit overwhelming. Hundreds of lives were under his command. Life or death, and it was all up to him, and he had never had any field experience before. Talk about pressure. He lay for a long time, worrying. Eventually his exhaustion overtook him and he was asleep for the remainder of the night.
//
Bones seemed to be settling in well as Chief Medical Officer. They discussed it as they sat in Bones’ office the next morning, sipping small amounts of whiskey. Bones had never believed in the not-drinking-before-noon rule. This was probably because half the time he just didn’t go to sleep all night. Sadly the doctor was limiting his alcohol intake while on duty, so that meant Jim only got a quarter-glass too. “I’d also appreciate you not hitting on Nurse Chapel next time you come here.”
“But she’s gorgeous. And single.”
“She’s also your subordinate and my co-worker, so leave her alone. I’m warning you right now - and this goes for your entire career - I’m not helping you out if you get into any sexual harassment cases,” Bones nodded decisively and drained the rest of his glass, fingers clearly itching to pour more. He didn’t, which was just as well because Jim really didn’t feel like lecturing him on being drunk while operating. Lecturing was more of Bones’ thing, and trying to encroach on that territory would just make any future lectures from him even worse.
“Fine, fine, no more hitting on Nurse Chapel. However, there is this one Lieutenant down in Engineering who is just,” he made a gesture with his fingers, kissing into the air.
“Jim, you can’t do anything with these girls. You’re their Captain!”
“You know I don’t care much for regulations in general, and I think that one’s stupid,” Jim huffed, “If it’s between two consenting adults, who cares?”
“It’s because you’re their Captain and they might feel like they have to consent.” Bones leant back precariously in his chair, “They used to have a lot of problems with it back in early days of a co-gender military on Earth. It gets a bit fuzzy when people think they have to have sex with their superior officer or their career is going to be ruined.”
Appalled, Jim’s mouth fell open, “I’d never do that!”
“I know you wouldn’t. But not everyone knows you as well as I do, and honestly, it’s a bad idea anyway. It’s not like you can get away from them if they’re crazy or something. This is a space ship. It’s a contained area,” the Doctor was giving him a serious look. Bones’ serious looks always gave Jim the chills. They usually meant something was horribly wrong, or that he was about to get stabbed in the neck with a needle containing god-knows-what. “Just don’t do it.”
“But I like sex,” whined Jim, ignoring Bones informing him that he didn’t need to know anything more about this, “I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get some.”
“Should have thought of that before you saved Earth and got promoted.”
Jim groaned. Bones laughed.
//
Scotty seemed to be fitting in fine in Engineering, although from the dirty looks some of the more senior engineers were giving him, it could be reasonably assumed that they didn’t appreciate this genius coming in and telling them to rewire half of the consoles. Scotty took great pleasure in informing him of all the ways in which the Enterprise was lacking, going into great detail about silly nuances like the colour of the flashing lights that indicated that some oil for some machine needed changing. This wasn’t very interesting, but he pretended to listen and care. In the end, that paid off, because Scotty took him on a tour of the Jeffries tubes, which felt a lot like being a kid in a play structure, crawling around through plastic tubes. Only, sadly, there were no ball-pits on the Enterprise.
Jim ate lunch with Scotty, who, unsurprisingly, was eating a sandwich, “So glad we have replicators here! Have you ever gone months without real food?”
“Yeah,” answered Jim without thinking about it. When he noticed the curious look on Scotty’s face, he grinned as if joking, “Yeah, that sucks.” Whoops. Didn’t really want to be elaborating on that one.
Scotty didn’t look wholly convinced but continued munching his sandwich, chatting about more changes he was planning to make. “You think you could stabilize the Captain’s chair then?” asked Jim eventually, enjoying his own BLT.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I spun around in it earlier and it felt wobbly. I want to be able to twirl in that thing as much as I like without fearing toppling over at any second. Can you imagine if the chair actually fell?”
“That image is enough to make me wanna loosen the screws, Cap’n,” said Scotty, smirking, “But I suppose since you’re my superior officer, I cannae refuse. Anyway, your screws are loose enough as it is.”
Jim laughed and finished his food, unable to keep his eyes from the Asian girl hovering behind Scotty’s shoulder, obviously waiting to talk to him. And he certainly wanted to talk to her - the girl was fine. When the chief engineer inevitably got called away for an “emergency” that was probably just that one of the dials on one of the consoles had gotten stuck, she shyly approached him, “Captain.”
“Lieutenant Saito.”
She smiled, all pretty white, straight teeth. Her hair was tied up, black silk spilling down her back, pulled smooth across the top of her head, “How are you today, sir?”
He shot her a cocky grin, “I’m well, thanks. And you? Hope Lieutenant-Commander Scott isn’t working you too hard.”
“He’s great, actually. He’s really funny,” she batted her eyelashes at him, and god did he ever want to tap that.
Sadly, Spock apparently had different ideas because he interrupted five minutes later, just as he was starting the casually-getting-closer move, “Bridge to Captain,” whistled the nearby console, the voice obviously Spock’s.
“Yes, Mr. Spock?” he responded curtly, reluctantly leaving Lieutenant Saito and snapping on the response button.
“Captain, there is a message for you from Starfleet. I would suggest you return to the bridge in order to hear it.”
He did so, stepping out onto the main bridge fewer than five minutes later. Spock vacated the chair immediately for him, and he sank into it, noticing that it was much warmer than usual, “What have you got for me, Lieutenant Uhura?”
“Replaying message, Captain,” she replied levelly, and a man’s face filled the screen.
He was much older than Jim, (not surprising, given that he was the youngest Captain in the fleet), with skin lined in wrinkles. He seemed humourless, as if his years in the Admiralty had sucked the soul right out of him, “Captain Kirk. When you have finished your mission to New Vulcan, you have a new assignment. Near New Vulcan is planet Yanar. They are a candidate to join the Federation. When you have delivered the terra-forming equipment, proceed to Earth Colony Seventy-Six. Pick up Ambassador Grace, who will be leading the talks. You are expected to beam down with the Ambassador when you reach Yanar.
Your role is not to talk, but to merely make an appearance. All agreements will be made by Ambassador Grace, seconded by Commander Spock, and then signed by all parties present. The talks should be simple, as Yanar is a peaceful planet. You are expected to represent the Federation well and to provide protection for Ambassador Grace.” The message ended shortly thereafter.
Jim frowned. The whole thing carried an air of, “don’t you dare fuck this up. If you do, you’ll be out of the fleet faster than Warp 10.”
He supposed that was going to be the pervading theme for at least a while, considering the circumstances by which he got promoted, “Thanks, Uhura,” he said, pressing his knuckles to his mouth in thought. “Sulu,” he said shortly, “Estimated time ‘til arrival at New Vulcan?”
“Seventeen hours, thirty-two minutes, sir.”
“Thank you,” he glanced at the chronometer. 1400. So they would arrive there at about 0630. He thrilled to think about successfully completing his first mission, even if that mission was only delivering a machine, and even if it only took two days. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, after all. “Spock,” he said some minutes later.
“Yes, Captain?” came the immediate reply.
“I’ve never heard of planet Yanar before. Is there much information on it?” he spun in his chair so that he could see Spock. It wobbled slightly as he did so, and he remembered his request for Scotty to do something about it.
“There is not much, sir,” said Spock dully, “It was only recently that they developed Warp Speed, therefore only recently have we been able to contact them without breaking the Prime Directive. They are a peaceful planet, but many of their deeper customs have yet to be studied. The Federation is interested in the planet for their advanced forms of medicine. Shall I transfer the files on Yanar to your terminal?”
“Yes please,” Jim had hardly finished the first word before the files popped up right there, “Thank you, Commander Spock.”
The remainder of the shift passed quickly, Jim reading everything he could find on the planet, determined not to make a fool out of himself on his first diplomatic mission.
He ate dinner with Bones in the mess, who had some choice words regarding the competency of some of his staff, “And the bloody moron grabbed the wrong vaccination. If it had been you we were injecting, you probably would have died. Sometimes I wonder where Starfleet gets these people. No matter. Kid seems bright enough. I’ll have him reciting the ingredients of all of those vaccines soon enough. He thinks he had it bad in the Academy? Well, he hasn’t even begun to experience McCoy teaching methods.”
“I gotta admit, if I were being trained by you, I’d request a transfer ASAP. You’re scary.”
Bones’ expression was very frightening, although he probably would never admit it, “I am not. You just bring my wrath upon yourself by being a careless idiot.”
“How am I a careless idiot?” Jim stuck a potato in his mouth, “I’ll have you know that I got a hundred percent on my academy entrance exams.”
Bones rolled his eyes. It was Jim’s personal feeling that one day those eyes would fall out of his head altogether, from the sheer amount of movement they were subjected to. “I know that. You tell me that at least once a week. Doesn’t stop you from being a complete idiot.”
Jim pouted. It was an adorable expression. It really was. It just didn’t work on Bones, because Bones had no soul. What a sad state of affairs. “Well, fine,” he said, “then I will continue being afraid of you.”
“You like it,” scowled Bones. Jim scowled back. Sadly, it was true.
When they finally finished their food, they dumped their trays and made their way back to their quarters, stopping at Jim’s first, “Oh Bones,” he cooed as his door slid open behind him, “Thanks for dinner. I had such a lovely time,” at Bones’ darkening expression, he batted his eyelashes, “Did you want to come in?”
Bones flipped him the finger and stalked off, footsteps echoing in time to Jim’s laughter.
//
They reached New Vulcan on schedule and the beam-down went without incident. Jim didn’t say anything stupid, Spock didn’t do anything crazy, and everything went well. Mostly. Jim didn’t think Sarek left the ship with any kind of newfound love and respect for him, but that wasn’t really a bad thing.
It began like this:
“Enterprise to New Vulcan.”
“New Vulcan Space Center,” came back the reply.
Jim smiled, “This is Captain James Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise,” that flowed off the tongue nicely, Jim thought, “requesting co-ordinates to beam down equipment.”
“One moment, please,” there was a long pause and Jim began to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair. Spock was standing straight-backed beside him, and Jim distinctly noticed Spock’s dark eyes watching his fingers repetitively tapping across the shiny surface. He didn’t stop, if only to annoy the Vulcan. Sadly, he didn’t react. How boring. Eventually the Vulcan Space Center replied, “Co-ordinates will be forwarded to your transporter room. Furthermore, there is a request from Ambassador Sarek.”
Spock’s eyes left Jim’s fingers at that, and snapped up to face the view-screen where New Vulcan was slowly rotating below them. “Go ahead,” said Jim.
“He requests to be beamed aboard for a short period of time. This would be for the purpose of conversing with Commander Spock on a matter of some importance. It would delay you not more than an hour.”
Jim looked up at Spock, but the Vulcan had a starkly blank expression. “I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with Sarek, Captain.”
“Of course,” said Jim, and then addressed Vulcan, “That’ll be fine. We’ll beam him up and then beam down the equipment, if that’s alright with you?”
“That is an acceptable course of action. Please proceed immediately.”
They made their way down to the transporter room, where they encountered a gleeful Scotty.
“What’re you so happy about, Mr. Scott?” asked Jim, feeling a smile slide onto his face in response to the Engineer’s good mood.
Scotty was punching in commands at the transporter console with deft fingers, “In all the other ship experience I’ve had, ev’ry time you visit a new planet, it’s a bloody hassle tryin’ to beam summat down. Or up. They never give us proper co-ordinates. But the Vulcans seem to be tryin’ to make life easier for us for once, an’ have given me proper beam-up and down points.” He seemed to finish what he was doing, and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the terra-forming equipment, which was on a floating skid over in the corner of the room. “Plus we’ll finally be able to unload this inefficient piece o’ crap. I still don’t know why you wouldn’t let me fix it up a little.”
“I wouldn’t let you fix it up because you know nothing about terra-forming equipment!” Jim laughed at him and leaned his hip against the console. Spock stood behind him. He was rather like a living statue, Jim thought. “If you want to fix up some sort of superior communicator, I’m all for that, but this is expensive equipment here that you know nothing about.”
Jim rather got the impression then that Scotty was resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at him. “I know a lot more about it than you do, Cap’n.”
“Oh, I might surprise you, Scotty,” Jim grinned, “Beam up the Ambassador.”
He did so, and the man appeared in a swirl of white light. The more he looked at him, the more he could see the strong family resemblance between Sarek and Spock. He had never seen Spock’s mother, so he couldn’t speak to what features of Spock looked like her. Sarek had the same long face, same mouth and nose. And of course, the same haircut. Why did Vulcans all cut their hair that way? Did they take a vote on it and decide that that was the most logical haircut or something?
“Good morning, Ambassador Sarek,” he greeted in his best polite-voice.
“Captain Kirk,” he replied, “I am appreciative of your accepting my request. Spock and I have certain matters to discuss.”
And if people said that Vulcans were emotionless, that was a lie. Sarek had all the airs of a disapproving parent upset with their child for disobeying them. Jim had to suppress a smile. It was an expression he had seen many times in his life. Then he realised what Sarek was probably disapproving of, and he frowned. “You can use the conference room right across the hall,” he offered instead of commenting on their familial situation, “We’ll get right on transporting this equipment.”
“We shall try not to delay your departure,” said Sarek, gliding out into the hallway, a sombre Spock trailing behind him.
Jim nodded, amused, “Sure thing,” and then went back to the transporter room to ‘supervise’ while everyone else did the heavy lifting. One of the perks of being Captain was not having to do menial labour. Although he still seemed to get put to work for Scotty whenever the Engineer felt like it. Note to self, he thought, put Scotty in his place.
That thought done, and supervisory duties done, there was nothing more to do besides wait for Spock. The minutes ticked by slowly as he leant against the wall in the hallway, staring at the door to the conference room as if it would make Sarek and Spock’s ‘discussion’ progress faster. Sarek and Spock were funny names. Was it some kind of rule that Vulcan names all started with ‘S’, finished with ‘K’ and were five letters long? He wracked his brain trying to think of other Vulcan names he had heard in the past. None besides the obvious “Surak” came to mind. He didn’t exactly know any other Vulcans. And of course, Surak fit the pattern. So it was plausible.
But then there had been six billion Vulcans. How many possible names could there be? He thought for a moment, stretching his mind back to basic math class in high school. Well, if the first and the last letter had to stay the same, there would be three variable letters and twenty-six possible choices. So there would be 17,576 combinations. But then that would allow for completely nonsensical names like “Ssqgk”. So really that was too complicated to work out. Well, if he made sure that there was a vowel included in the word, then that would both decrease the number of possible permutations and also raise the chances of the name making sense.
Jim was just about to start working that out (that’s what he did when he was bored. He thought about nonsensical things) when the door to the conference hall slid open. He stood away from the wall and smiled brightly at them. They didn’t return the expression, of course, but he wasn’t expecting the darkening expressions on their faces. “All done?” he asked brightly.
“We are,” said Sarek, “Spock has made his decision.”
“Oh?” asked Jim, looking over at Spock with raised eyebrows.
“I am remaining in Starfleet,” Spock clarified, sounding about as excited about the prospect as Jim was about eating shrimp. He didn’t like eating shrimp. He was allergic to them.
Sarek didn’t look happy. “Your loss is our gain,” said Jim jokingly, and Spock’s blank look turned into a glare. Whoops. Maybe not the best thing to say when someone has just refused to help their endangered species rebuild in favour of gallivanting off with a bunch of humans to take part in dangerous missions of peril and excitement. Whatever. Too late to take it back now.
“Yes,” said Sarek, with a pointed look at Spock, “Our loss.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for several seconds, the three men standing in the hallway. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. James Kirk was more than willing to provide that knife, “So, thanks for your visit, Ambassador Sarek. You’re always welcome here on the Enterprise.”
“Thank you, Captain Kirk,” he said as they re-entered the transporter room, “You and Spock are always welcome on Vulcan.”
The emphasis he placed on his son’s name made Jim’s insides squirm uncomfortably. He knew how it felt to be pressured to do something you weren’t sure you wanted to do. So he quickly shuffled Sarek back to the transporter and left with Spock as soon as possible.
“Good work, Spock,” he said as they walked back to the bridge together. Their gait matched very well - apparently their steps were the same size.
“I appreciate your acknowledgment of my satisfactory performance,” said Spock, not looking at him, “I am also relieved that thus far, your command seems to be acceptable.”
“Uhhh,” Jim wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. It was probably best with Spock to just take everything he said at face value. That is, to say, he was saying Jim was doing okay, rather than insinuating that he had believed Jim would not be able to handle command, “Thank you, Mr. Spock.”
A tilt of the head was the response as they entered the turbolift, “So, Spock. Your dad wants you to move to Vulcan, I guess?”
“He believes it would be the more logical course of action for me,” said Spock, as if it were obvious. His tone of voice clearly stated that he still didn’t like Jim and didn’t really want to be sharing intimate conversations with him. That really kind of sucked. Jim hoped they would be more tolerant of each other soon.
Jim didn’t say anything more, unable to think of something else to say. How they were ever supposed to become the greatest of friends, he didn’t know. They didn’t seem to have anything in common, no basis to stand their relationship on. Maybe he should call the older Spock some time. Ask what it was they did together.
Well, they still had five years to get to know each other. He wasn’t going to push it now.
The lift doors opened and they walked out into the bridge, bright lights of the consoles flashing in his eyes, momentarily blinding. Jim crossed the floor to settle into the chair, a place where he was beginning to feel more and more comfortable. Literally. The chair was comfy, “Sulu,” the Asian turned to meet his eyes. He was smiling, in a good mood. Jim was abruptly very glad that he was on his crew, even if he had taken 20 credits of his money in that bet, “Plot a course for Earth Colony Seventy-Six, please.”
“Already done, Captain,” definitely a reason why he’d hired him.
“Alright, lay in, Warp Factor Four.”
“Aye, sir,” he said, deft fingers sliding over the buttons on the console.
//