Fic: The urge to fall 1/2
Title The urge to fall 1/2
Fandom Star Trek XI
Pairings Kirk/Spock preslash, implied Spock prime/Kirk prime
Rating PG
Beta cicero-drayon and infiniteth
Word count 14 230
Disclaimer I don't own Star Trek.
Summary When the Enterprise takes a number of ambassadors aboard to escort them to the conference planet Babel, Kirk is face with the family, conspiracy and the tug of fate.
Notes A rebooting of Journey to Babel, written for operation80 ages ago. infiniteth suggested "Journey to Babel (the Next time we’ll take the bus remix)" as a title, which I think is actually a better title...
The Enterprise seemed a changed ship. It was never empty, but usually there was a certain scarceness to the corridors. The only blotches of colour would be red, blue and gold; the crew seldom left their quarters when out of uniform. Now, the disciplined silence had been exchanged to the buzz of conversation, and at times people in civilian clothes outnumbered those in uniforms. Still, to Kirk “civilian clothes” was almost a misnomer; it made him think of jeans and leather-jackets and sweaters which were slowly unwinding. By contrast, their guests were dressed in alien finery, some in long robes of unnamed cloth, others in what seemed like metal scale armour, and a few in very little. Even if the colour and conversation at first seemed joyful to him after almost two years on the Enterprise, the tensions soon became obvious. There were certain delegates who would not speak to one another, and groupings seemed to be forming quickly.
‘You know, I think I heard one of the Aeolian delegates hiss at the Nausicaan ambassador the other day,’ McCoy while studying one of his boots. Then with a sigh he started working on the last button in his dress uniform. ‘Dress uniform - spit and polish,’ he muttered. ‘I think the replicator got this wrong. Feels like my neck’s in a sling…’
‘Stop whining, Bones,’ Kirk said and after looking over his hair once again he took out the medal he had been given at the same time as becoming captain. He still got a slightly giddy feeling when he felt it weigh on his chest.
‘You gonna give me a hand with this? I sort of blame you for having me dress up like a circus clown.’ The captain abandoned the mirror and came to help him.
‘It’s just like dressing up for prom, isn’t it?’ he said, hoping to lighten the mood. The doctor only snorted.
‘Yeah, just the same. But at prom you’d just have a snarky girl to keep happy - instead, we have over a hundred diplomatic delegates, one half is mad at the other and all of them touchier than a pile of raw antimatter over this Corridan question.' With the misreplicated button finally in place they exited his quarters. The brilliant colours of a close-by delegate’s dress caught his eye, but he thought she would have been prettier if it had not been for the snout.
‘Only one party left to pick up, and then we can relax,’ Kirk said and patted McCoy on the shoulder.
‘Yes, but that last party is the Vulcans,’ he muttered just moments before Spock fell into stride with them. Kirk glanced at him and felt that it had been a mistake, because the sight of his slim figure in the silk uniform was more breathtaking than any brightly dressed ambassador. When he looked away, McCoy caught his eye and cocked an eyebrow quizzically, but he just jerked his head minimally to one side to dismiss it, unwilling to communicate on the topic even through gestures.
'Everything in order on the bridge?' Kirk asked, trying to lighten the awkwardness he suddenly felt.
'Orbit holding - nothing to report,' Spock answered. 'There are some concerns among the delegates, but there have been no incidents whatsoever.'
'Good,' the captain said, grateful to have such a first officer. 'You know, we could spare you a few hours, you. The reception isn’t until twenty-hundred hours, and we’ll be in orbit around New Vulcan for another two hours. If you want to beam down and see your dad - have a look around the settlement…’ He fell silent; for a moment, he thought he had seen emotion rising to the surface and disrupting the Vulcan mask. It had seemed reminiscent to despair.
‘I appreciate the consideration, but I have no need of seeing the colony.’ The answer came out sounding flat, and Kirk realised he had hoped for emotion in his voice as well.
‘All right,’ he said and then paused in his strides. ‘Sorry, Spock.’ Spock did not heed the apology - perhaps it had been wrong to acknowledge that it could be a troublesome topic. Kirk wished he could tell, but found it hard. He seemed to spend as much time trying to read Spock as captaining the ship these days.
Thankfully, they were only a little way from the transporter room, and when they arrived, the honour guard was already present and Scotty, in dress-uniform jacket and kilt, was manning the controls.
‘Ah, Captain,’ he said, looking over the controls. ‘They report a sand-storm down on the surface, so the delegates will be completely wrapped up. Just so they don’t scare us.’
‘After the Bzziz Khaht, I'll never find anything in the transporter room scary,’ Kirk answered jovially. ‘No one had told me that they’d be reptiles… Ready for beam-up?’
‘They haven’t signaled yet,’ Scotty answered. ‘It’s all exciting, isn’t it? And any reason to wear me kilt. I left the sgian dubh in my quarters, though.’ At Kirk's and McCoy's blank faces, he lit up, happy to explain ‘It’s a knife - to go in the sock. I thought the delegates might misinterpret it - not good for diplomacy, you know.’
‘Good thinking,’ Kirk said.
‘Thanks, cap’n. Ah, they’re signaling ready. On standby.’ He turned to Giotto, the security officer.
‘Positions, honour guard,’ he said, and they fell into position. ‘Ready, gentlemen?’ Glancing at his first officer and chief medical officer, he saw that McCoy was trying to make a Vulcan salute, as Spock was demonstrating.
‘Yeah,’ he said when he realised he had been addressed. ‘Not worth it - it hurts worse than the uniform.’ Kirk laughed, but when he looked at Spock, he did not seem to have found it remotely amusing. He guessed meeting other Vulcans must be hard for him - even those who had survived were reminders of those who had been lost - and he wished he could tell him to relax and possibly give him a friendly elbow-nudge, but knew it might have the opposite effect.
Bringing himself back to the situation, he turned to Scotty and said:
‘Energise.’ As the engineer worked the controls, the familiar transporter light filled the room, and when it receded, four shapes, all shrouded against the winds on the surface, stood on the transporter pad. At once they started working on removing the goggles and scarves which hid their faces. The first to remove the gear was a young woman, the second a man. The way they waited on the pad made him think they were aides of the ambassador. The slightly shorter of the remaining two Vulcans stepped off the pad as he removed the desert-gear, and the aides fell into line behind him. When the Vulcan uncovered his face, Kirk felt certain he had seen him before.
‘Captain Kirk,’ he said and raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. Then it struck him who this was.
‘Ambassador Sarek,’ Kirk said, bowing slightly. It struck him that this might have been the reason why Spock had not wanted to beam down to the colony, but he still wondered why he had not mentioned that his father was among the delegates. ‘Welcome aboard. You know my first officer, of course, and my chief medical officer Doctor McCoy, and Mr Scott, my chief engineer.’
‘We come to serve,’ Spock said and saluted him the Vulcan way. Sarek stopped in his stride, surveying him for a moment, but then moved on without as much as a word. He went onto greeting McCoy and Scotty, but Kirk had turned to Spock, whose eyes were averted and face stony. He was about to brush against his arm to get his attention, but Sarek spoke.
‘Captain - my aides, T’Rin and Sotak, and Ambassador Selek.’ The two young Vulcans saluted him and passed. The last Vulcan had lingered behind, but his goggles were already in hand and he was unwinding his head-scarf. As he pulled it from his shoulders, he turned to face him, watching him with doubly familiar eyes.
‘Jim - or, I should say, Captain,’ Spock said, a small smile creeping onto his face. ‘Your service honours us.’ Offering him the Vulcan salute and a gaze which seemed encoded with things he could not read, he moved on and stopped in front of his counter-part. ‘Mister Spock - I am pleased to see you.’ Such a courteous phrase sounded strange when said by a Vulcan voice, and Kirk thought he saw his first officer jerking back, as if the address was a touch he wanted to avoid. There was a moment of silence where they simply looked at each other, the same pair of eyes meeting. It was strange to see them together, because the differences seemed as many as the likenesses. Kirk was reminded of the time when he had found a photograph of his grandfather from when he was a young man; with difficulty, he had traced the familiar features onto the young face, but once he had found them, the man in the photo had gone from being an anonymous youth to his grandfather. Over two years ago, he had traced the young Spock’s face on the old one’s in the cave, and then the other way around when coming back to the Enterprise. Now all he saw was Spock, but split in two. He had not anticipated how disturbing it would be.
Spock broke the tension by answering the salute, but he did not say anything. The old man dipped his head at him and went to greet McCoy and Scotty. Kirk shot the Scotsman a warning look, and when the old ambassador turned his back he imitated a zipper over his lips. The captain nodded his approval; the last thing they needed was to have to explain temporal paradoxes.
‘You are very welcome aboard,’ he said again, addressing the Vulcan delegates. ‘I will have you shown to your quarters. When you’ve settled in, we’ll arrange a tour of the ship. Mr Spock can show you around.’ He noticed how Sarek’s face turned even more severe than it usually was, and Spock said:
‘With respect, sir, I have duties in the science labs which need to be seen to.’ Kirk looked from his first officer to the delegates; the only benevolent face among them belonged to the old ambassador, whom Sarek had called Selek.
‘I’d be happy to show you engineering,’ Scotty piped up, and for once Kirk thanked him quietly for his complete lack of tact.
‘Then Mr Scott will show you the ship,’ he said and maintained a trained face until the delegates had been shown to their quarters and he could escape McCoy’s questioning looks.
***
James Kirk was not one to be miserable at a party. In fact, this was a formal reception rather than a party, and he was not really miserable, whatever McCoy claimed he was. He was just contemplative, and possibly worried. He tried to pay attention to the tiny golden Ithenite who was praising the food-stuff he called “sugartots”, which Kirk was certain had nothing to do with sugar at all, but his gaze seemed constantly to be drawn to the other side of the room. When the Ithenite went to collect more sugartots, McCoy came up to him and said quietly:
‘What’s with you, Jim?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I just guess you’re right - there’s a lot of tension going on.’
‘Tension? I think you just put your finger on it,’ Bones snorted. ‘The amount of unresolved sexual tension you manage to generate could probably power a starship.’
‘Lay it off, Bones - you know what I mean,’ he sighed.
‘Damned right I do, as I’ve spent two years watching you ogling your First.’ The answer was so quiet he was not certain he was supposed to hear it. When he gave him a glare, McCoy raised his hands in an innocent gesture and said: ‘Just don’t think it’s good for you.’
‘Well, we need to make sure that during the next two weeks, the ambassadors don’t kill each other, so our problems are pretty minor.’ The doctor snorted yet again as he helped himself to a drink and Kirk continued looking at the Vulcan delegates. One of the aides was speaking to the old Spock, while Sarek was conversing with the Nausicaan ambassador. He was standing with his back turned towards the elderly Vulcan, and Kirk suddenly got the feeling that it was a conscious decision. Spock had not arrived yet.
McCoy called him back to the real world.
‘So, how do you know this Selek?’
‘What?’ Kirk said, woken from his thoughts. ‘Who?’
‘Selek - the Vulcan ambassador,’ Bones clarified, watching him as if trying to detect a lie. ‘He seemed to know you. Was he among the ones who Spock went to fetch before... you know? He reminds me of someone...’
‘Oh, yes - yes, we’ve met before,’ he said, ignoring the other question, but suggested instead, ‘c’mon, let’s mingle,’ sipped his drink and moved into the crowd. McCoy moved after him, but stopped to converse one of the Bolian delegates. Kirk kept walking, surveying and nodding to the guests. They turned and greeted him when he passed, but when the Andorian delegates pressed their palms together in acknowledgement, he noticed that one of the blue-skinned aliens did not follow suit. As he looked him, who watched him a way Kirk could only call predatory, he felt a flush of arousal pass through him. Quickly looking away, the captain mirrored the Andorian greeting and passed on. Didn’t know Andorians had pheromones like that, he thought, and then realised that he had was about to walk straight into the elderly Spock. He was about to apologise, but the familiar way he watched him, where the whole world seemed to be contained inside his gaze, silenced him.
‘Captain Kirk,’ he said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute. ‘I trust you are well.’
‘Yes - thank you,’ he answered awkwardly. They were silent for a moment. ‘So… how have you been? Keeping busy?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ the old Vulcan said, steepling his fingers; Kirk realised that even that mannerism was something this Spock and the younger one shared. Still, they seemed opposites, which proved even more obvious when he smiled softly at Kirk. ‘Organising a colony is no small task, and after such a tragedy… We must not only form a new home, but also a new identity - a new meaning.’
‘But you’re helping - that’s great,’ Kirk offered, even if it came out sounding forced.
‘I prefer to stay in the background, but I do what I can.’
‘So it’s Selek now?’ he asked, sipping his drink. The Vulcan gave a minute nod.
‘It was only logical to take a new name, considering the circumstances,’ he explained and looked around the room, as if looking for someone. Kirk assumed he was looking for his younger counterpart. Suddenly it struck him that perhaps this was strange for him, but it must be much worse for Spock; perhaps that was the reason why he had not shown up yet.
‘How does it feel, being back on the Enterprise?’ The ambassador once again smiled slightly.
‘Remarkable. I have not set foot on this vessel in well over a hundred years.’ Curiosity stirred in Kirk.
‘You must know everything,’ he said. ‘What happens to the ship - to us.’ Spock raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘I mean, you must know what’ll happen to us, or at least what happened to us where you are from. Who gets who, what we go onto doing - how we die.’ For a moment they achieved eye-contact. ‘I can’t help wondering who made it the longest. Do you know?’
Spock turned his eyes away.
‘I will not speak of such things,’ he said seriously. ‘We should not discuss your future - or my past. I must not intervene.’ Then he fell silent and seemed to think. ‘However, I wish to be of help.’ Spock moved, and for a short, vain moment, Kirk thought the old man was about to kiss him. Instead, he leaned in and whispered in his ear. ‘Pay attention to Sarek. For his sake.’
As he drew away, Kirk started to ask for an explanation when a flustered ensign elbowed himself through the crowd.
‘Captain,’ he said breathlessly when he reached him. ‘Lieutenant Uhura on the intercom, sir…’
‘Sure, thanks,’ he said and with a nod to the ambassador he followed the ensign. They went into a small room adjacent to the receptions room, and he approached the intercom. ‘Yes, Uhura?’
‘Sir, I just picked up a communication,’ Uhura said over the low static. ‘Nothing legible, just a few symbols, so I couldn’t decipher it, but it was very strong, as if it was coming from very close.’ Kirk bit his lip; that sounded strange.
‘Keep monitoring, Lieutenant,’ he instructed her. ‘Report anything out of the ordinary.’
'Is the party with the delegates keeping you all busy?’ she said, her voice both mocking and affectionate.
'It's not a party if you're not involved. All we have here is a bunch of drunk ambassadors and a sex-starved crew,' Kirk said, and thought he heard the ensign’s eyes grow at that unseemly statement from his commander. ‘Just keep monitoring, Lieutenant.’
‘Yessir,’ she said and closed the link. The captain nodded at the ensign and entered the throng of people again. Now he spotted his first officer; to his surprise, he saw that he was standing with the Vulcan delegates and McCoy. When he came closer, he noticed that the doctor was talking to Selek (as Kirk had to remind himself Spock should be called). Sarek seemed to be listening to McCoy, but when Kirk came to join the circle, he noticed that it seemed like he was not heeding the comments from either Spock. There seemed to be a coldness between his first officer and his father, which was mirrored with the older Vulcan. He was certain it had not been there the first time he had met Sarek.
‘Captain, come join us,' McCoy said as he approached. 'Ambassador Selek’s been telling us about the new Vulcan colony.’ Kirk gave the elder Spock an inquiring look.
‘The remaining Vulcans are not the diverse society we used to be,’ he explained. ‘Certain castes have been completely eradicated, which has been a horrible loss of culture, as well as that of lives. The survivors are almost exclusively from settlements close to the big space-ports, and both the division of sex and age is skewed - there is a majority of female survivors, and there is a majority of children. One of the first actions the Vulcan high council sought aid from the Federation for was the establishment of orphanages.’
‘If half the population is orphans…’ Kirk started saying, the idea chilling him to the bone. By some definitions of the word, he had been an orphan, but this was unimaginable compared to the sheltered relation to the death of his father he had had.
’51.3 percent of the population on New Vulcan is under the age of twenty,’ Sarek said curtly. ‘Of them, 85.8 percent have lost both their parents. The number of children who were saved from Vulcan with both their parents is negligible.’
‘The main task is still to attempt to reunite families,’ the other ambassador said, and Kirk thought he saw a shadow pass across his face. The Vulcans were now a rootless race, but Selek had no context at all. It made Kirk wonder whether the old man had had a family back in the future, possibly some better half he had left behind, but ever since their first encounter, he had seemed like an entity onto himself, unnaturally self-contained, as if something was missing from him. There was little doubt that he was alone.
‘Didn’t the Federation get onto that straight away?’ McCoy asked, seemingly fascinated by the topic from a sociopsychological point of view rather than a personal, as Kirk.
‘Yes, but many records were lost - only certain important parts of it had been saved on data-bases off Vulcan. No one ever imagined this kind of disaster would happen, especially with so little warning,’ the old Spock said. ‘We are reduced to techniques relying completely of people's own knowledge. It is a slow process, but this far, several children previously thought to be orphans have been found not to be so.’
‘Do you ever end up with situations where several parents are trying to claim one child?’
‘Vulcans do not lie, Captain,’ the Spock at his side said. When Kirk looked at him, as if about to remind him of times where he had more or less lied, he said hurriedly: ‘And were any Vulcan to attempt such a feat, he would easily be proved wrong by a mindmeld.’
‘There were several such cases in the first few months after the destruction of Vulcan, but when most adult Vulcans have lost their children, there is little point fighting about it,’ his elder counterpart added. ‘There is a scheme of foster-parents, which will hopefully be beneficent to not only the participants in it but the community as a whole.’
‘That’s frankly brilliant,’ McCoy said approvingly. ‘Obviously what these kids need is some kind of stability…’
‘Indeed, they have lost everything, and at such an early age,’ he answered morosely, in a way which was distinctly un-Vulcan. ‘No parents, no homes, no belongings, no security. It is in times such as these when it is crucial that we do not lose track of our civilisation. It is important that the orphans who we cannot reunite with a relative or give to a foster-parent do not feel like flotsam and jetsam. It can be alleviated so easily, not only by them being cared for well, but by instilling in them a sense of being needed.’ He paused to sip his drink, and when he continued to speak, Kirk thought he smiled. ‘The solution, I must say, is somewhat ingenious. A group of children, as small as we can possibly manage, are given a sehlat to care for. They are rare now, but it is certainly putting them to better use than keeping them for show.’
‘What’s a sehlat?’ McCoy asked, while Kirk was racking his brains to remember if it was something which had come up in the xenozoology course he had taken early on at the Academy. Meanwhile, the three Vulcans seemed to exchange looks, Sarek disapproving, the elder Spock amused, the younger uncomfortable.
‘I believe you have a comprehensive description of it, Mister Spock,’ the oldest Vulcan said finally, his smile lingering. Spock shifted from one foot to the others, cleared his throat and said:
‘My mother used to claim that my pet sehlat was most reminiscent of a… fat teddy bear.’ McCoy made a sound like he was choking, and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as if to keep himself from spitting out his drink.
‘A… teddy bear?’ he repeated when he had recovered, and Kirk thought he had never seen his friend so happy. ‘You had a teddy bear?’
‘A sehlat is a live animal, doctor,’ Sarek pointed out, cutting through the mirth McCoy’s laughter had brought. ‘Also, it has six-inch fangs. It is quite different from a Terran teddy bear.’ The doctor nodded, keeping silent as if afraid to cause more offense. Kirk was just about to ask about the breeding of sehlats, when a voice interrupted him.
‘Well, if it isn’t the Vulcans?’
One of the qualities which made Kirk such a good captain was an ability of almost smelling trouble. If it was indeed a real smell, he was able to feel the reek of it now. Approaching them was the Tellerite delegates, the ambassador in the middle like a pig-nosed gang-leader.
‘How will you vote?’ the ambassador asked. It was not until then Kirk realised that the entire room had fallen silent, and all eyes were on Sarek and his fellow ambassador, waiting for an answer.
‘This is not the council chamber at Babel,’ Sarek said at last.
‘I asked you, Sarek of Vulcan, how do you vote on the admission of the Corridan planets?’ It was hard to tell whether the name or the mention of his home planet was more contemptuous. Now, the ambassador kept silent, and glancing at his colleague, the older Spock said:
‘The Vulcans favour admission.’ The Tellerite gave up a shout of anger and surprise.
‘Favour? Why?’
‘Under Federation law, the Corridan planets could be protected,’ Sarek answered, his voice colder even than before. ‘They are planets exceedingly rich in dilithium.’
‘Why do they need protection?’ the Tellerite pressed on. Kirk stepped forward.
‘Ambassador Sarek is right - this isn’t the council chamber at Babel, and this discussion…’
‘I want my answer,’ the ambassador snorted.
‘There have been illegal mining operations, Ambassador Gav,’ Selek said calmly. Gav’s piglike face distorted in rage.
‘Are you calling me a thief?’ he extorted and spat at him. A pearl of spit landed on Spock’s robes, and before it had time to sink into the fabric, he flicked it away, the look in his eyes truly terrifying. Before anyone had time to step in and stop him, the Tellerite had started speaking again. ‘The Vulcans are nothing but the intellectual puppets of the Federation - you’re both just catamites of the high council, you do their bidding whatever they ask. Well, if you value logic, then watch your step, both of you. There is no reason why the Vulcans, who are so few, should have a delegation as big as any of ours.’ With a final contemptuous word in Tellerite, he turned and the entire delegation left with him. Damning himself for his own slowness, Kirk turned to Sarek.
‘Ambassador, I’m certain Ambassador Gav did not mean anything he said, but if he causes further disturbance, please let me know. Such behaviour is unacceptable.’
‘Tellerites do not argue for a reason, Captain. They merely argue,’ Sarek answered, but his tone was far too emotionless not to hide something. ‘He is not a man of action.’
Then he nodded and moved on to speak to the Andorian ambassador, and the elder Spock excused himself and left the room completely. Kirk sighed and ran a hand through his hair as McCoy and Spock fell into his step.
‘What is your plan for Ambassador Gav, sir?’ Spock asked.
‘At the moment, my plan is to get something with alcohol in it, and after that I’m going to go tell him to behave,’ Kirk said. ‘Can’t be done without booze. This is why I love diplomacy,’ he added sarcastically and chose the largest glass from the buffet table, ignoring that it was green and seemed to have something which looked like sea-weed in the bottom of the glass.
***
When the reception was over, Kirk only stopped to change into his normal uniform before going to the bridge. After the excitement of the reception and the disappointment of the green drink turning out to be almost undrinkable, the peace and quiet of the bridge was welcome.
‘Anything new?’ he asked as he sat down.
‘Yes, sir,’ Chekov said. ‘Sensors are picking up an unidentified wessel pacing us.’
‘Since when?’ Kirk demanded.
‘Only a few minutes, keptin,’ he answered. ‘Lieutenant Uhura was about to contact you.’
‘Very well,’ the captain said with a sigh. ‘Go to yellow alert, but don’t alarm the passengers. What more do you have on it?’
‘It appears to be a scout ship, considering the size, but the configuration is unfamiliar,’ Spock said. Kirk turned around his chair and watched him, attempting to keep his thoughts entirely on the problem at hand, but he could not pretend that laying eyes on Spock calmed him. ‘It is just outside phaser range, and at the extreme limit of sensors. At present I am unable to give any more information.’
‘All right. Is she answering to a hail, Uhura?’ The communications officer shook her head.
‘I’ve tried all frequencies - even hooked in the universal translator. There’s still no response, sir.’
‘Keep trying,’ Kirk told her. ‘Spock, check for any authorised ships.’
‘Already done, sir. Starfleet reports no other authorised vessel in this quadrant.’ The only acknowledgement Kirk could let himself have was a smile, but Spock’s way of performing his orders before he had given them made something warm flare in his chest. If they were this in tune now, perhaps he would start open up to him soon.
‘Care to guess what she is, then?’ Spock chocked an eyebrow.
‘Guess, Captain?’ he said, as if he did not know the word. ‘It is not in my nature. I will need more data to make an estimate.’ Kirk smiled at him again, and he thought he saw something stirring under Spock’s Vulcan mask, and as he saw the emotion form and hover under the surface, he issued an order, without looking away.
‘Mister Chekov, plot course to intercept that vessel.’ He turned around the chair to see the viewscreen. ‘I want to see what she looks like up close.’ Chekov’s hands danced over the console, and barely a moment later, he reported:
‘Wessel changing course, keptin.’
‘Phasers at the ready!’ Something resembling a speck of light rather than a ship was visible n the viewscreen for a moment, and the beams of the phasers missed it with a considerable margin. The bridge was silent and tense as the dart disappeared, until Spock spoke.
‘Interesting - the ship was travelling at approximately warp ten.’ Kirk turned around again, and after exchanging glances which verified that he had not uncharacteristically lied, he turned around and ordered them back onto the original course.
‘The intruder changed course immediately after we did - she’s paralleling us again,’ Chekov reported.
‘So, we have a shadow,’ Kirk said, mirroring the navigator’s sigh. ‘Not only that - she’s faster, more manoeuvrable and unidentified.’ Once again, he turned to his first officer. ‘Mister Spock, full analysis of sensor readings. I want to know everything you can tell me.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Spock said and set to work. It was not until then Kirk remembered the strange way he had not spoken to Sarek before, and he wished that he had asked him about it before they had ended up with this on their hands.
***
The issue of fathers seemed to haunt Kirk for the rest of the evening. His own father had been defined completely by his absence, and through it he had become an even greater man than he could have been in life. His mother had taught Kirk to mourn him, but all he had grieved for was the image she gave to him. Of course he had wondered what kind of person he would had been if his father had not died, but it had been nothing but abstract thoughts until about two years ago. Now, there was someone on board who knew how he had been in a reality where that had been the case, and Kirk did not think that the Vulcan now called Selek would need much prompting to speak. In a way, he knew so very little of this older version of Spock; just like with his first officer, he did not know how he worked. Still, he remembered the way his mind had enveloped around his during the meld at Delta Vega, and it had been as if he had opened himself up completely to him. The few times he had melded with the Spock who was his peer, it had been in the line of duty, and he had been able to feel Spock’s shields around him when their minds were drawn together. Just the fact that the old Vulcan had been so quick to suggest a meld when they had just met made him think that their minds had been well-acquainted. He had no ideas of what his relationship to the other version of him was; he had hopes, but possibly they were vain. But if that was true, what he wanted would not be as unreasonable as it had seemed these past years.
He wondered how it was possible to build a life without anything to lean against. He had never done that - there had always been constants, even if they had often been within himself. He thought of the Vulcans, who had lost their home, and Selek, who had lost his entire universe (it was possible, though, that he had nothing to tie himself to it - Kirk had reflected on the fact that creating a black hole to stop a star from going nova was a veritable suicide mission). He tried to imagine a race where almost half were orphaned children. What kind of trauma must those children go through? What kind of society would it turn into, if so many had known such all-encompassing pain? Perhaps a stronger community than had ever been seen - possibly a conglomeration of fears and griefs. When he had been a child, so many had pitied him, and he had been in trouble time and time again, but what he had been through was nothing in comparison to the Vulcan children who had not been swallowed up into nothingness.
When his shift the next day ended, instead of going to his quarters he went searching for Selek. He needed to make him talk - surely he must be able to. Thinking that the rec rooms which had been set aside for the use of the delegates would be a good place to start, he went there. As he entered, he laid eyes on the man he was looking for at once, but he was not alone. He was standing beside Sarek, and facing them, with his back against Kirk, was Gav, the Tellerite ambassador. Kirk could make out their voices, but not the words, but there was aggression in the Tellerite’s tone. The captain had started to approach them, wary of the situation, when Gav suddenly pounced against Sarek. Kirk rushed forward at the same time as Spock reached out and pushed the attacker away. The action was not overly violent, but there was something in the way he had stepped forth, half-shielding Sarek, and the way his eyes shone.
‘May I suggest that you return to your quarters, ambassador? For your own sake,’ he said coldly.
‘Do not dare to suggest to me!’ Gav screeched.
‘Gentlemen!’ Kirk bellowed. The Tellerite and the Vulcans looked up at him, obviously startled. Now when they were obviously listening to him, he continued in a calmer tone. ‘Whatever arguments you have between yourselves is your business, but my business is running this ship. As long as I am in command, there will be order. Is that understood?’
‘Of course, Captain,’ the elder of the Vulcans said, his anger abated and replaced with graciousness.
‘Understood,’ Gav said gruffly and then turned to the other ambassadors. ‘You will pay for your slander, and I want none of your advice, Vulcan.’ With those words he left, and as soon as the doors had closed and the conversations around them had been resumed, the old Spock turned to Kirk.
‘Captain…’
‘May I speak to you, Ambassador Selek?’ he interrupted him, and, leaving Sarek behind, they went aside. Before the Vulcan had time to speak, Kirk said: ‘I thought I could trust you, but now you’re causing trouble on my ship. What’s your game?’
‘My business is not with the Tellerite, Jim,’ Spock said quietly. ‘I merely came here in search for the Andorian ambassador, with whom I had an issue I needed to discuss. My meeting with ambassador Gav and Sarek was accidental.’
‘Still, that could have become nasty,’ Kirk interjected.
‘I apologise sincerely,’ the Vulcan said, dipping his head. ‘I need to find Ambassador Shras - if you would excuse me, Captain.’
‘Fine,’ the captain said and waved him off. He started moving away, but then turned around.
‘Please be careful,’ he said, and before he had time to ask what he meant, he left.
***
The door-bell chimed just as Kirk came out of the shower. It had seemed like the only way to calm own after his frustration at the elder Spock and his constant implications that something was about to happen. Shrugging on the wrap-around shirt (which had almost seemed to him to be a half-civilian garment) and putting on his uniform trousers he pressed the button to open the door. It was not at all who he had assumed it would be.
'Ambassador Sarek,' he said when he spotted the stern Vulcan.
'Captain - may I enter?' he asked, not flinching even if his host was still tying his shirt closed.
'Sure - that's what an opened door means,' Kirk said, heading for the working-area. 'How can I help you, Ambassador?'
'I believed you might want some answers,' he simply said. The captain sighed; it had been that obvious, then.
'Well...' He shifted where he had sat down on the desk, then stood up and started pacing. 'Ambassador, I must admit that I am surprised to find that one of the delegates we are conveying to the conference is ignoring my first officer.' It seemed like something shifted in Sarek's perfectly schooled face.
'I thought that would be the topic you wished to discuss,' he said. 'Am I to assume that you are well acquainted with my son?'
'Yes,' Kirk said, not answering ”not as well as I would want”. It seemed far too hard to explain to a Vulcan, even one who had been married to a human, that that logical shell was hard to crack, and however much he tried, however well he thought he could read him, he could not possibly understand him.
'He is a good first officer?'
'He's the best.'
'That means he may have made the right choice,' Sarek said, joining his hands together much like Spock sometimes did, but without steepling his fingers.
'What do you mean?' Kirk asked, but he thought he knew that the issue was.
'I had assumed my son would aid in the establishment of the Vulcan colony,' Sarek explained, his voice as level as before. 'That was not his choice.'
'Does that mean you've not spoken since...?' He moved in head in the Vulcan equivalent of a nod. 'But... why?' Throwing caution to the winds, Kirk pressed on. 'Sir, your son is half-human - he needs emotional support...'
'That is not the Vulcan way,' Sarek said, his face stoney.
'But he's not fully Vulcan.'
'Also, I would assume that you would give him such things,' the ambassador pointed out, and Kirk froze, wondering if he had misinterpreted - overinterpreted - his relationship with his first officer. Sarek rose, but where Kirk had thought to find anger in his eyes, he saw earnesty. 'Do not think me a fool, Captain Kirk. I know the real identity of Ambassador Selek.'
A beat, then:
'Oh.' Kirk paused again before asking: 'How?'
'He told me - he even allowed me to meld with him, to show that it was true,' he explained. 'You must have noticed what a wildly emotional creature the man who calls himself Selek is.' Kirk nodded slowly; the elder Spock's emotional frankness still surprised him. 'I know what my son will become, and I know why.'
'Why?' he asked.
'Because of you, Captain,' he said, and now disappointment seemed to pierce his voice. 'Through him, I have learnt that the person who will deprive my son of the serenity of logic is you.'
'I don't understand...' Kirk started; he could not see how he would be able to have such influence on Spock, how he would be able to come so close to him that he could influence him like that. Unless he had been right in his assumption - unless it was like it seemed... 'He's your son - why can't you be happy for him?'
'Happiness is an emotion,' Sarek said. 'Emotion only brings strife in its wake. It... concerns me that my son must endure any such thing.'
'Spock - the older one - seemed concerned for you,' Kirk pointed out, and suddenly his mind started working through what he had seen and heard. He remembered the way Selek had stepped between Gav and Sarek, as if to protect him, and it suddenly struck him - perhaps Sarek did not see his son, but Selek saw his father. He had even warned Kirk that something was about to happen, and then there was the Tellerite ambassador, who had been threatening them even before the incident just now... There must be something Gav was planning, something which had happened in the old Spock's universe as well. He remembered how he had asked about how people died, and he had seen such grief in the old Vulcan's face. Perhaps there would be violence - perhaps something would happen to Sarek which would cost him his life.
The communicator beeped, and Kirk almost threw himself at it.
'Kirk here.'
'Lieutenant Josephs, security, sir,' a voice over the intercom said. 'I'm in section 4B, deck eleven. I just found one of the Tellerites - dead. I think it might be the ambassador himself.' He felt himself going cold, and heard Sarek shift.
'Seal the corridor, Lieutenant, and call Mister Spock and Doctor McCoy down there.' He was just about to close the link, but then said: 'Send up a security guard to my quarters to escort Ambassador Sarek.'
'Aye, sir,' Joseph said, and the link was closed.
'Captain?' Sarek said, standing up.
'You're not safe - there's a killer on the loose,' Kirk said. 'Wait until they come to get you.' With those words, he left his quarters.
Part two
Fandom Star Trek XI
Pairings Kirk/Spock preslash, implied Spock prime/Kirk prime
Rating PG
Beta cicero-drayon and infiniteth
Word count 14 230
Disclaimer I don't own Star Trek.
Summary When the Enterprise takes a number of ambassadors aboard to escort them to the conference planet Babel, Kirk is face with the family, conspiracy and the tug of fate.
Notes A rebooting of Journey to Babel, written for operation80 ages ago. infiniteth suggested "Journey to Babel (the Next time we’ll take the bus remix)" as a title, which I think is actually a better title...
The Enterprise seemed a changed ship. It was never empty, but usually there was a certain scarceness to the corridors. The only blotches of colour would be red, blue and gold; the crew seldom left their quarters when out of uniform. Now, the disciplined silence had been exchanged to the buzz of conversation, and at times people in civilian clothes outnumbered those in uniforms. Still, to Kirk “civilian clothes” was almost a misnomer; it made him think of jeans and leather-jackets and sweaters which were slowly unwinding. By contrast, their guests were dressed in alien finery, some in long robes of unnamed cloth, others in what seemed like metal scale armour, and a few in very little. Even if the colour and conversation at first seemed joyful to him after almost two years on the Enterprise, the tensions soon became obvious. There were certain delegates who would not speak to one another, and groupings seemed to be forming quickly.
‘You know, I think I heard one of the Aeolian delegates hiss at the Nausicaan ambassador the other day,’ McCoy while studying one of his boots. Then with a sigh he started working on the last button in his dress uniform. ‘Dress uniform - spit and polish,’ he muttered. ‘I think the replicator got this wrong. Feels like my neck’s in a sling…’
‘Stop whining, Bones,’ Kirk said and after looking over his hair once again he took out the medal he had been given at the same time as becoming captain. He still got a slightly giddy feeling when he felt it weigh on his chest.
‘You gonna give me a hand with this? I sort of blame you for having me dress up like a circus clown.’ The captain abandoned the mirror and came to help him.
‘It’s just like dressing up for prom, isn’t it?’ he said, hoping to lighten the mood. The doctor only snorted.
‘Yeah, just the same. But at prom you’d just have a snarky girl to keep happy - instead, we have over a hundred diplomatic delegates, one half is mad at the other and all of them touchier than a pile of raw antimatter over this Corridan question.' With the misreplicated button finally in place they exited his quarters. The brilliant colours of a close-by delegate’s dress caught his eye, but he thought she would have been prettier if it had not been for the snout.
‘Only one party left to pick up, and then we can relax,’ Kirk said and patted McCoy on the shoulder.
‘Yes, but that last party is the Vulcans,’ he muttered just moments before Spock fell into stride with them. Kirk glanced at him and felt that it had been a mistake, because the sight of his slim figure in the silk uniform was more breathtaking than any brightly dressed ambassador. When he looked away, McCoy caught his eye and cocked an eyebrow quizzically, but he just jerked his head minimally to one side to dismiss it, unwilling to communicate on the topic even through gestures.
'Everything in order on the bridge?' Kirk asked, trying to lighten the awkwardness he suddenly felt.
'Orbit holding - nothing to report,' Spock answered. 'There are some concerns among the delegates, but there have been no incidents whatsoever.'
'Good,' the captain said, grateful to have such a first officer. 'You know, we could spare you a few hours, you. The reception isn’t until twenty-hundred hours, and we’ll be in orbit around New Vulcan for another two hours. If you want to beam down and see your dad - have a look around the settlement…’ He fell silent; for a moment, he thought he had seen emotion rising to the surface and disrupting the Vulcan mask. It had seemed reminiscent to despair.
‘I appreciate the consideration, but I have no need of seeing the colony.’ The answer came out sounding flat, and Kirk realised he had hoped for emotion in his voice as well.
‘All right,’ he said and then paused in his strides. ‘Sorry, Spock.’ Spock did not heed the apology - perhaps it had been wrong to acknowledge that it could be a troublesome topic. Kirk wished he could tell, but found it hard. He seemed to spend as much time trying to read Spock as captaining the ship these days.
Thankfully, they were only a little way from the transporter room, and when they arrived, the honour guard was already present and Scotty, in dress-uniform jacket and kilt, was manning the controls.
‘Ah, Captain,’ he said, looking over the controls. ‘They report a sand-storm down on the surface, so the delegates will be completely wrapped up. Just so they don’t scare us.’
‘After the Bzziz Khaht, I'll never find anything in the transporter room scary,’ Kirk answered jovially. ‘No one had told me that they’d be reptiles… Ready for beam-up?’
‘They haven’t signaled yet,’ Scotty answered. ‘It’s all exciting, isn’t it? And any reason to wear me kilt. I left the sgian dubh in my quarters, though.’ At Kirk's and McCoy's blank faces, he lit up, happy to explain ‘It’s a knife - to go in the sock. I thought the delegates might misinterpret it - not good for diplomacy, you know.’
‘Good thinking,’ Kirk said.
‘Thanks, cap’n. Ah, they’re signaling ready. On standby.’ He turned to Giotto, the security officer.
‘Positions, honour guard,’ he said, and they fell into position. ‘Ready, gentlemen?’ Glancing at his first officer and chief medical officer, he saw that McCoy was trying to make a Vulcan salute, as Spock was demonstrating.
‘Yeah,’ he said when he realised he had been addressed. ‘Not worth it - it hurts worse than the uniform.’ Kirk laughed, but when he looked at Spock, he did not seem to have found it remotely amusing. He guessed meeting other Vulcans must be hard for him - even those who had survived were reminders of those who had been lost - and he wished he could tell him to relax and possibly give him a friendly elbow-nudge, but knew it might have the opposite effect.
Bringing himself back to the situation, he turned to Scotty and said:
‘Energise.’ As the engineer worked the controls, the familiar transporter light filled the room, and when it receded, four shapes, all shrouded against the winds on the surface, stood on the transporter pad. At once they started working on removing the goggles and scarves which hid their faces. The first to remove the gear was a young woman, the second a man. The way they waited on the pad made him think they were aides of the ambassador. The slightly shorter of the remaining two Vulcans stepped off the pad as he removed the desert-gear, and the aides fell into line behind him. When the Vulcan uncovered his face, Kirk felt certain he had seen him before.
‘Captain Kirk,’ he said and raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. Then it struck him who this was.
‘Ambassador Sarek,’ Kirk said, bowing slightly. It struck him that this might have been the reason why Spock had not wanted to beam down to the colony, but he still wondered why he had not mentioned that his father was among the delegates. ‘Welcome aboard. You know my first officer, of course, and my chief medical officer Doctor McCoy, and Mr Scott, my chief engineer.’
‘We come to serve,’ Spock said and saluted him the Vulcan way. Sarek stopped in his stride, surveying him for a moment, but then moved on without as much as a word. He went onto greeting McCoy and Scotty, but Kirk had turned to Spock, whose eyes were averted and face stony. He was about to brush against his arm to get his attention, but Sarek spoke.
‘Captain - my aides, T’Rin and Sotak, and Ambassador Selek.’ The two young Vulcans saluted him and passed. The last Vulcan had lingered behind, but his goggles were already in hand and he was unwinding his head-scarf. As he pulled it from his shoulders, he turned to face him, watching him with doubly familiar eyes.
‘Jim - or, I should say, Captain,’ Spock said, a small smile creeping onto his face. ‘Your service honours us.’ Offering him the Vulcan salute and a gaze which seemed encoded with things he could not read, he moved on and stopped in front of his counter-part. ‘Mister Spock - I am pleased to see you.’ Such a courteous phrase sounded strange when said by a Vulcan voice, and Kirk thought he saw his first officer jerking back, as if the address was a touch he wanted to avoid. There was a moment of silence where they simply looked at each other, the same pair of eyes meeting. It was strange to see them together, because the differences seemed as many as the likenesses. Kirk was reminded of the time when he had found a photograph of his grandfather from when he was a young man; with difficulty, he had traced the familiar features onto the young face, but once he had found them, the man in the photo had gone from being an anonymous youth to his grandfather. Over two years ago, he had traced the young Spock’s face on the old one’s in the cave, and then the other way around when coming back to the Enterprise. Now all he saw was Spock, but split in two. He had not anticipated how disturbing it would be.
Spock broke the tension by answering the salute, but he did not say anything. The old man dipped his head at him and went to greet McCoy and Scotty. Kirk shot the Scotsman a warning look, and when the old ambassador turned his back he imitated a zipper over his lips. The captain nodded his approval; the last thing they needed was to have to explain temporal paradoxes.
‘You are very welcome aboard,’ he said again, addressing the Vulcan delegates. ‘I will have you shown to your quarters. When you’ve settled in, we’ll arrange a tour of the ship. Mr Spock can show you around.’ He noticed how Sarek’s face turned even more severe than it usually was, and Spock said:
‘With respect, sir, I have duties in the science labs which need to be seen to.’ Kirk looked from his first officer to the delegates; the only benevolent face among them belonged to the old ambassador, whom Sarek had called Selek.
‘I’d be happy to show you engineering,’ Scotty piped up, and for once Kirk thanked him quietly for his complete lack of tact.
‘Then Mr Scott will show you the ship,’ he said and maintained a trained face until the delegates had been shown to their quarters and he could escape McCoy’s questioning looks.
***
James Kirk was not one to be miserable at a party. In fact, this was a formal reception rather than a party, and he was not really miserable, whatever McCoy claimed he was. He was just contemplative, and possibly worried. He tried to pay attention to the tiny golden Ithenite who was praising the food-stuff he called “sugartots”, which Kirk was certain had nothing to do with sugar at all, but his gaze seemed constantly to be drawn to the other side of the room. When the Ithenite went to collect more sugartots, McCoy came up to him and said quietly:
‘What’s with you, Jim?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I just guess you’re right - there’s a lot of tension going on.’
‘Tension? I think you just put your finger on it,’ Bones snorted. ‘The amount of unresolved sexual tension you manage to generate could probably power a starship.’
‘Lay it off, Bones - you know what I mean,’ he sighed.
‘Damned right I do, as I’ve spent two years watching you ogling your First.’ The answer was so quiet he was not certain he was supposed to hear it. When he gave him a glare, McCoy raised his hands in an innocent gesture and said: ‘Just don’t think it’s good for you.’
‘Well, we need to make sure that during the next two weeks, the ambassadors don’t kill each other, so our problems are pretty minor.’ The doctor snorted yet again as he helped himself to a drink and Kirk continued looking at the Vulcan delegates. One of the aides was speaking to the old Spock, while Sarek was conversing with the Nausicaan ambassador. He was standing with his back turned towards the elderly Vulcan, and Kirk suddenly got the feeling that it was a conscious decision. Spock had not arrived yet.
McCoy called him back to the real world.
‘So, how do you know this Selek?’
‘What?’ Kirk said, woken from his thoughts. ‘Who?’
‘Selek - the Vulcan ambassador,’ Bones clarified, watching him as if trying to detect a lie. ‘He seemed to know you. Was he among the ones who Spock went to fetch before... you know? He reminds me of someone...’
‘Oh, yes - yes, we’ve met before,’ he said, ignoring the other question, but suggested instead, ‘c’mon, let’s mingle,’ sipped his drink and moved into the crowd. McCoy moved after him, but stopped to converse one of the Bolian delegates. Kirk kept walking, surveying and nodding to the guests. They turned and greeted him when he passed, but when the Andorian delegates pressed their palms together in acknowledgement, he noticed that one of the blue-skinned aliens did not follow suit. As he looked him, who watched him a way Kirk could only call predatory, he felt a flush of arousal pass through him. Quickly looking away, the captain mirrored the Andorian greeting and passed on. Didn’t know Andorians had pheromones like that, he thought, and then realised that he had was about to walk straight into the elderly Spock. He was about to apologise, but the familiar way he watched him, where the whole world seemed to be contained inside his gaze, silenced him.
‘Captain Kirk,’ he said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute. ‘I trust you are well.’
‘Yes - thank you,’ he answered awkwardly. They were silent for a moment. ‘So… how have you been? Keeping busy?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ the old Vulcan said, steepling his fingers; Kirk realised that even that mannerism was something this Spock and the younger one shared. Still, they seemed opposites, which proved even more obvious when he smiled softly at Kirk. ‘Organising a colony is no small task, and after such a tragedy… We must not only form a new home, but also a new identity - a new meaning.’
‘But you’re helping - that’s great,’ Kirk offered, even if it came out sounding forced.
‘I prefer to stay in the background, but I do what I can.’
‘So it’s Selek now?’ he asked, sipping his drink. The Vulcan gave a minute nod.
‘It was only logical to take a new name, considering the circumstances,’ he explained and looked around the room, as if looking for someone. Kirk assumed he was looking for his younger counterpart. Suddenly it struck him that perhaps this was strange for him, but it must be much worse for Spock; perhaps that was the reason why he had not shown up yet.
‘How does it feel, being back on the Enterprise?’ The ambassador once again smiled slightly.
‘Remarkable. I have not set foot on this vessel in well over a hundred years.’ Curiosity stirred in Kirk.
‘You must know everything,’ he said. ‘What happens to the ship - to us.’ Spock raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘I mean, you must know what’ll happen to us, or at least what happened to us where you are from. Who gets who, what we go onto doing - how we die.’ For a moment they achieved eye-contact. ‘I can’t help wondering who made it the longest. Do you know?’
Spock turned his eyes away.
‘I will not speak of such things,’ he said seriously. ‘We should not discuss your future - or my past. I must not intervene.’ Then he fell silent and seemed to think. ‘However, I wish to be of help.’ Spock moved, and for a short, vain moment, Kirk thought the old man was about to kiss him. Instead, he leaned in and whispered in his ear. ‘Pay attention to Sarek. For his sake.’
As he drew away, Kirk started to ask for an explanation when a flustered ensign elbowed himself through the crowd.
‘Captain,’ he said breathlessly when he reached him. ‘Lieutenant Uhura on the intercom, sir…’
‘Sure, thanks,’ he said and with a nod to the ambassador he followed the ensign. They went into a small room adjacent to the receptions room, and he approached the intercom. ‘Yes, Uhura?’
‘Sir, I just picked up a communication,’ Uhura said over the low static. ‘Nothing legible, just a few symbols, so I couldn’t decipher it, but it was very strong, as if it was coming from very close.’ Kirk bit his lip; that sounded strange.
‘Keep monitoring, Lieutenant,’ he instructed her. ‘Report anything out of the ordinary.’
'Is the party with the delegates keeping you all busy?’ she said, her voice both mocking and affectionate.
'It's not a party if you're not involved. All we have here is a bunch of drunk ambassadors and a sex-starved crew,' Kirk said, and thought he heard the ensign’s eyes grow at that unseemly statement from his commander. ‘Just keep monitoring, Lieutenant.’
‘Yessir,’ she said and closed the link. The captain nodded at the ensign and entered the throng of people again. Now he spotted his first officer; to his surprise, he saw that he was standing with the Vulcan delegates and McCoy. When he came closer, he noticed that the doctor was talking to Selek (as Kirk had to remind himself Spock should be called). Sarek seemed to be listening to McCoy, but when Kirk came to join the circle, he noticed that it seemed like he was not heeding the comments from either Spock. There seemed to be a coldness between his first officer and his father, which was mirrored with the older Vulcan. He was certain it had not been there the first time he had met Sarek.
‘Captain, come join us,' McCoy said as he approached. 'Ambassador Selek’s been telling us about the new Vulcan colony.’ Kirk gave the elder Spock an inquiring look.
‘The remaining Vulcans are not the diverse society we used to be,’ he explained. ‘Certain castes have been completely eradicated, which has been a horrible loss of culture, as well as that of lives. The survivors are almost exclusively from settlements close to the big space-ports, and both the division of sex and age is skewed - there is a majority of female survivors, and there is a majority of children. One of the first actions the Vulcan high council sought aid from the Federation for was the establishment of orphanages.’
‘If half the population is orphans…’ Kirk started saying, the idea chilling him to the bone. By some definitions of the word, he had been an orphan, but this was unimaginable compared to the sheltered relation to the death of his father he had had.
’51.3 percent of the population on New Vulcan is under the age of twenty,’ Sarek said curtly. ‘Of them, 85.8 percent have lost both their parents. The number of children who were saved from Vulcan with both their parents is negligible.’
‘The main task is still to attempt to reunite families,’ the other ambassador said, and Kirk thought he saw a shadow pass across his face. The Vulcans were now a rootless race, but Selek had no context at all. It made Kirk wonder whether the old man had had a family back in the future, possibly some better half he had left behind, but ever since their first encounter, he had seemed like an entity onto himself, unnaturally self-contained, as if something was missing from him. There was little doubt that he was alone.
‘Didn’t the Federation get onto that straight away?’ McCoy asked, seemingly fascinated by the topic from a sociopsychological point of view rather than a personal, as Kirk.
‘Yes, but many records were lost - only certain important parts of it had been saved on data-bases off Vulcan. No one ever imagined this kind of disaster would happen, especially with so little warning,’ the old Spock said. ‘We are reduced to techniques relying completely of people's own knowledge. It is a slow process, but this far, several children previously thought to be orphans have been found not to be so.’
‘Do you ever end up with situations where several parents are trying to claim one child?’
‘Vulcans do not lie, Captain,’ the Spock at his side said. When Kirk looked at him, as if about to remind him of times where he had more or less lied, he said hurriedly: ‘And were any Vulcan to attempt such a feat, he would easily be proved wrong by a mindmeld.’
‘There were several such cases in the first few months after the destruction of Vulcan, but when most adult Vulcans have lost their children, there is little point fighting about it,’ his elder counterpart added. ‘There is a scheme of foster-parents, which will hopefully be beneficent to not only the participants in it but the community as a whole.’
‘That’s frankly brilliant,’ McCoy said approvingly. ‘Obviously what these kids need is some kind of stability…’
‘Indeed, they have lost everything, and at such an early age,’ he answered morosely, in a way which was distinctly un-Vulcan. ‘No parents, no homes, no belongings, no security. It is in times such as these when it is crucial that we do not lose track of our civilisation. It is important that the orphans who we cannot reunite with a relative or give to a foster-parent do not feel like flotsam and jetsam. It can be alleviated so easily, not only by them being cared for well, but by instilling in them a sense of being needed.’ He paused to sip his drink, and when he continued to speak, Kirk thought he smiled. ‘The solution, I must say, is somewhat ingenious. A group of children, as small as we can possibly manage, are given a sehlat to care for. They are rare now, but it is certainly putting them to better use than keeping them for show.’
‘What’s a sehlat?’ McCoy asked, while Kirk was racking his brains to remember if it was something which had come up in the xenozoology course he had taken early on at the Academy. Meanwhile, the three Vulcans seemed to exchange looks, Sarek disapproving, the elder Spock amused, the younger uncomfortable.
‘I believe you have a comprehensive description of it, Mister Spock,’ the oldest Vulcan said finally, his smile lingering. Spock shifted from one foot to the others, cleared his throat and said:
‘My mother used to claim that my pet sehlat was most reminiscent of a… fat teddy bear.’ McCoy made a sound like he was choking, and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as if to keep himself from spitting out his drink.
‘A… teddy bear?’ he repeated when he had recovered, and Kirk thought he had never seen his friend so happy. ‘You had a teddy bear?’
‘A sehlat is a live animal, doctor,’ Sarek pointed out, cutting through the mirth McCoy’s laughter had brought. ‘Also, it has six-inch fangs. It is quite different from a Terran teddy bear.’ The doctor nodded, keeping silent as if afraid to cause more offense. Kirk was just about to ask about the breeding of sehlats, when a voice interrupted him.
‘Well, if it isn’t the Vulcans?’
One of the qualities which made Kirk such a good captain was an ability of almost smelling trouble. If it was indeed a real smell, he was able to feel the reek of it now. Approaching them was the Tellerite delegates, the ambassador in the middle like a pig-nosed gang-leader.
‘How will you vote?’ the ambassador asked. It was not until then Kirk realised that the entire room had fallen silent, and all eyes were on Sarek and his fellow ambassador, waiting for an answer.
‘This is not the council chamber at Babel,’ Sarek said at last.
‘I asked you, Sarek of Vulcan, how do you vote on the admission of the Corridan planets?’ It was hard to tell whether the name or the mention of his home planet was more contemptuous. Now, the ambassador kept silent, and glancing at his colleague, the older Spock said:
‘The Vulcans favour admission.’ The Tellerite gave up a shout of anger and surprise.
‘Favour? Why?’
‘Under Federation law, the Corridan planets could be protected,’ Sarek answered, his voice colder even than before. ‘They are planets exceedingly rich in dilithium.’
‘Why do they need protection?’ the Tellerite pressed on. Kirk stepped forward.
‘Ambassador Sarek is right - this isn’t the council chamber at Babel, and this discussion…’
‘I want my answer,’ the ambassador snorted.
‘There have been illegal mining operations, Ambassador Gav,’ Selek said calmly. Gav’s piglike face distorted in rage.
‘Are you calling me a thief?’ he extorted and spat at him. A pearl of spit landed on Spock’s robes, and before it had time to sink into the fabric, he flicked it away, the look in his eyes truly terrifying. Before anyone had time to step in and stop him, the Tellerite had started speaking again. ‘The Vulcans are nothing but the intellectual puppets of the Federation - you’re both just catamites of the high council, you do their bidding whatever they ask. Well, if you value logic, then watch your step, both of you. There is no reason why the Vulcans, who are so few, should have a delegation as big as any of ours.’ With a final contemptuous word in Tellerite, he turned and the entire delegation left with him. Damning himself for his own slowness, Kirk turned to Sarek.
‘Ambassador, I’m certain Ambassador Gav did not mean anything he said, but if he causes further disturbance, please let me know. Such behaviour is unacceptable.’
‘Tellerites do not argue for a reason, Captain. They merely argue,’ Sarek answered, but his tone was far too emotionless not to hide something. ‘He is not a man of action.’
Then he nodded and moved on to speak to the Andorian ambassador, and the elder Spock excused himself and left the room completely. Kirk sighed and ran a hand through his hair as McCoy and Spock fell into his step.
‘What is your plan for Ambassador Gav, sir?’ Spock asked.
‘At the moment, my plan is to get something with alcohol in it, and after that I’m going to go tell him to behave,’ Kirk said. ‘Can’t be done without booze. This is why I love diplomacy,’ he added sarcastically and chose the largest glass from the buffet table, ignoring that it was green and seemed to have something which looked like sea-weed in the bottom of the glass.
***
When the reception was over, Kirk only stopped to change into his normal uniform before going to the bridge. After the excitement of the reception and the disappointment of the green drink turning out to be almost undrinkable, the peace and quiet of the bridge was welcome.
‘Anything new?’ he asked as he sat down.
‘Yes, sir,’ Chekov said. ‘Sensors are picking up an unidentified wessel pacing us.’
‘Since when?’ Kirk demanded.
‘Only a few minutes, keptin,’ he answered. ‘Lieutenant Uhura was about to contact you.’
‘Very well,’ the captain said with a sigh. ‘Go to yellow alert, but don’t alarm the passengers. What more do you have on it?’
‘It appears to be a scout ship, considering the size, but the configuration is unfamiliar,’ Spock said. Kirk turned around his chair and watched him, attempting to keep his thoughts entirely on the problem at hand, but he could not pretend that laying eyes on Spock calmed him. ‘It is just outside phaser range, and at the extreme limit of sensors. At present I am unable to give any more information.’
‘All right. Is she answering to a hail, Uhura?’ The communications officer shook her head.
‘I’ve tried all frequencies - even hooked in the universal translator. There’s still no response, sir.’
‘Keep trying,’ Kirk told her. ‘Spock, check for any authorised ships.’
‘Already done, sir. Starfleet reports no other authorised vessel in this quadrant.’ The only acknowledgement Kirk could let himself have was a smile, but Spock’s way of performing his orders before he had given them made something warm flare in his chest. If they were this in tune now, perhaps he would start open up to him soon.
‘Care to guess what she is, then?’ Spock chocked an eyebrow.
‘Guess, Captain?’ he said, as if he did not know the word. ‘It is not in my nature. I will need more data to make an estimate.’ Kirk smiled at him again, and he thought he saw something stirring under Spock’s Vulcan mask, and as he saw the emotion form and hover under the surface, he issued an order, without looking away.
‘Mister Chekov, plot course to intercept that vessel.’ He turned around the chair to see the viewscreen. ‘I want to see what she looks like up close.’ Chekov’s hands danced over the console, and barely a moment later, he reported:
‘Wessel changing course, keptin.’
‘Phasers at the ready!’ Something resembling a speck of light rather than a ship was visible n the viewscreen for a moment, and the beams of the phasers missed it with a considerable margin. The bridge was silent and tense as the dart disappeared, until Spock spoke.
‘Interesting - the ship was travelling at approximately warp ten.’ Kirk turned around again, and after exchanging glances which verified that he had not uncharacteristically lied, he turned around and ordered them back onto the original course.
‘The intruder changed course immediately after we did - she’s paralleling us again,’ Chekov reported.
‘So, we have a shadow,’ Kirk said, mirroring the navigator’s sigh. ‘Not only that - she’s faster, more manoeuvrable and unidentified.’ Once again, he turned to his first officer. ‘Mister Spock, full analysis of sensor readings. I want to know everything you can tell me.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Spock said and set to work. It was not until then Kirk remembered the strange way he had not spoken to Sarek before, and he wished that he had asked him about it before they had ended up with this on their hands.
***
The issue of fathers seemed to haunt Kirk for the rest of the evening. His own father had been defined completely by his absence, and through it he had become an even greater man than he could have been in life. His mother had taught Kirk to mourn him, but all he had grieved for was the image she gave to him. Of course he had wondered what kind of person he would had been if his father had not died, but it had been nothing but abstract thoughts until about two years ago. Now, there was someone on board who knew how he had been in a reality where that had been the case, and Kirk did not think that the Vulcan now called Selek would need much prompting to speak. In a way, he knew so very little of this older version of Spock; just like with his first officer, he did not know how he worked. Still, he remembered the way his mind had enveloped around his during the meld at Delta Vega, and it had been as if he had opened himself up completely to him. The few times he had melded with the Spock who was his peer, it had been in the line of duty, and he had been able to feel Spock’s shields around him when their minds were drawn together. Just the fact that the old Vulcan had been so quick to suggest a meld when they had just met made him think that their minds had been well-acquainted. He had no ideas of what his relationship to the other version of him was; he had hopes, but possibly they were vain. But if that was true, what he wanted would not be as unreasonable as it had seemed these past years.
He wondered how it was possible to build a life without anything to lean against. He had never done that - there had always been constants, even if they had often been within himself. He thought of the Vulcans, who had lost their home, and Selek, who had lost his entire universe (it was possible, though, that he had nothing to tie himself to it - Kirk had reflected on the fact that creating a black hole to stop a star from going nova was a veritable suicide mission). He tried to imagine a race where almost half were orphaned children. What kind of trauma must those children go through? What kind of society would it turn into, if so many had known such all-encompassing pain? Perhaps a stronger community than had ever been seen - possibly a conglomeration of fears and griefs. When he had been a child, so many had pitied him, and he had been in trouble time and time again, but what he had been through was nothing in comparison to the Vulcan children who had not been swallowed up into nothingness.
When his shift the next day ended, instead of going to his quarters he went searching for Selek. He needed to make him talk - surely he must be able to. Thinking that the rec rooms which had been set aside for the use of the delegates would be a good place to start, he went there. As he entered, he laid eyes on the man he was looking for at once, but he was not alone. He was standing beside Sarek, and facing them, with his back against Kirk, was Gav, the Tellerite ambassador. Kirk could make out their voices, but not the words, but there was aggression in the Tellerite’s tone. The captain had started to approach them, wary of the situation, when Gav suddenly pounced against Sarek. Kirk rushed forward at the same time as Spock reached out and pushed the attacker away. The action was not overly violent, but there was something in the way he had stepped forth, half-shielding Sarek, and the way his eyes shone.
‘May I suggest that you return to your quarters, ambassador? For your own sake,’ he said coldly.
‘Do not dare to suggest to me!’ Gav screeched.
‘Gentlemen!’ Kirk bellowed. The Tellerite and the Vulcans looked up at him, obviously startled. Now when they were obviously listening to him, he continued in a calmer tone. ‘Whatever arguments you have between yourselves is your business, but my business is running this ship. As long as I am in command, there will be order. Is that understood?’
‘Of course, Captain,’ the elder of the Vulcans said, his anger abated and replaced with graciousness.
‘Understood,’ Gav said gruffly and then turned to the other ambassadors. ‘You will pay for your slander, and I want none of your advice, Vulcan.’ With those words he left, and as soon as the doors had closed and the conversations around them had been resumed, the old Spock turned to Kirk.
‘Captain…’
‘May I speak to you, Ambassador Selek?’ he interrupted him, and, leaving Sarek behind, they went aside. Before the Vulcan had time to speak, Kirk said: ‘I thought I could trust you, but now you’re causing trouble on my ship. What’s your game?’
‘My business is not with the Tellerite, Jim,’ Spock said quietly. ‘I merely came here in search for the Andorian ambassador, with whom I had an issue I needed to discuss. My meeting with ambassador Gav and Sarek was accidental.’
‘Still, that could have become nasty,’ Kirk interjected.
‘I apologise sincerely,’ the Vulcan said, dipping his head. ‘I need to find Ambassador Shras - if you would excuse me, Captain.’
‘Fine,’ the captain said and waved him off. He started moving away, but then turned around.
‘Please be careful,’ he said, and before he had time to ask what he meant, he left.
***
The door-bell chimed just as Kirk came out of the shower. It had seemed like the only way to calm own after his frustration at the elder Spock and his constant implications that something was about to happen. Shrugging on the wrap-around shirt (which had almost seemed to him to be a half-civilian garment) and putting on his uniform trousers he pressed the button to open the door. It was not at all who he had assumed it would be.
'Ambassador Sarek,' he said when he spotted the stern Vulcan.
'Captain - may I enter?' he asked, not flinching even if his host was still tying his shirt closed.
'Sure - that's what an opened door means,' Kirk said, heading for the working-area. 'How can I help you, Ambassador?'
'I believed you might want some answers,' he simply said. The captain sighed; it had been that obvious, then.
'Well...' He shifted where he had sat down on the desk, then stood up and started pacing. 'Ambassador, I must admit that I am surprised to find that one of the delegates we are conveying to the conference is ignoring my first officer.' It seemed like something shifted in Sarek's perfectly schooled face.
'I thought that would be the topic you wished to discuss,' he said. 'Am I to assume that you are well acquainted with my son?'
'Yes,' Kirk said, not answering ”not as well as I would want”. It seemed far too hard to explain to a Vulcan, even one who had been married to a human, that that logical shell was hard to crack, and however much he tried, however well he thought he could read him, he could not possibly understand him.
'He is a good first officer?'
'He's the best.'
'That means he may have made the right choice,' Sarek said, joining his hands together much like Spock sometimes did, but without steepling his fingers.
'What do you mean?' Kirk asked, but he thought he knew that the issue was.
'I had assumed my son would aid in the establishment of the Vulcan colony,' Sarek explained, his voice as level as before. 'That was not his choice.'
'Does that mean you've not spoken since...?' He moved in head in the Vulcan equivalent of a nod. 'But... why?' Throwing caution to the winds, Kirk pressed on. 'Sir, your son is half-human - he needs emotional support...'
'That is not the Vulcan way,' Sarek said, his face stoney.
'But he's not fully Vulcan.'
'Also, I would assume that you would give him such things,' the ambassador pointed out, and Kirk froze, wondering if he had misinterpreted - overinterpreted - his relationship with his first officer. Sarek rose, but where Kirk had thought to find anger in his eyes, he saw earnesty. 'Do not think me a fool, Captain Kirk. I know the real identity of Ambassador Selek.'
A beat, then:
'Oh.' Kirk paused again before asking: 'How?'
'He told me - he even allowed me to meld with him, to show that it was true,' he explained. 'You must have noticed what a wildly emotional creature the man who calls himself Selek is.' Kirk nodded slowly; the elder Spock's emotional frankness still surprised him. 'I know what my son will become, and I know why.'
'Why?' he asked.
'Because of you, Captain,' he said, and now disappointment seemed to pierce his voice. 'Through him, I have learnt that the person who will deprive my son of the serenity of logic is you.'
'I don't understand...' Kirk started; he could not see how he would be able to have such influence on Spock, how he would be able to come so close to him that he could influence him like that. Unless he had been right in his assumption - unless it was like it seemed... 'He's your son - why can't you be happy for him?'
'Happiness is an emotion,' Sarek said. 'Emotion only brings strife in its wake. It... concerns me that my son must endure any such thing.'
'Spock - the older one - seemed concerned for you,' Kirk pointed out, and suddenly his mind started working through what he had seen and heard. He remembered the way Selek had stepped between Gav and Sarek, as if to protect him, and it suddenly struck him - perhaps Sarek did not see his son, but Selek saw his father. He had even warned Kirk that something was about to happen, and then there was the Tellerite ambassador, who had been threatening them even before the incident just now... There must be something Gav was planning, something which had happened in the old Spock's universe as well. He remembered how he had asked about how people died, and he had seen such grief in the old Vulcan's face. Perhaps there would be violence - perhaps something would happen to Sarek which would cost him his life.
The communicator beeped, and Kirk almost threw himself at it.
'Kirk here.'
'Lieutenant Josephs, security, sir,' a voice over the intercom said. 'I'm in section 4B, deck eleven. I just found one of the Tellerites - dead. I think it might be the ambassador himself.' He felt himself going cold, and heard Sarek shift.
'Seal the corridor, Lieutenant, and call Mister Spock and Doctor McCoy down there.' He was just about to close the link, but then said: 'Send up a security guard to my quarters to escort Ambassador Sarek.'
'Aye, sir,' Joseph said, and the link was closed.
'Captain?' Sarek said, standing up.
'You're not safe - there's a killer on the loose,' Kirk said. 'Wait until they come to get you.' With those words, he left his quarters.
Part two