Refractions: Jumping Tracks (2/4)
Their latest catastrophe had ended fairly well, in Jim's opinion-he'd merely passed out from oxygen deprivation when he had slipped through the interphase on the USS Defiant and was trapped in a universe that was completely void of anything; usually he ended up in a much bloodier and more critical condition. He'd learned about the events that occurred during his absence from Bones while Bones had irritably patched him up in sickbay. Everyone on the ship had believed that Jim was dead except for Spock. Spock had turned into a dictator, challenging the Tholians and nearly risking the entire ship to find Jim when all evidence pointed to Jim's demise. Spock had even thrown a chair at Bones when he saw him organizing Jim's funeral.
When Jim had woken up and been released from sickbay, Spock had dragged Jim to their quarters and promptly fucked him over his desk, pulling Jim's pants down just enough for the material to bunch under his ass before slamming in, Jim's hands scrabbling for the edge of the desk to hold himself up. Jim had only found out later that most of Spock's anger had been because Jim had insisted Spock beam up before him from the wreck of an old Federation ship they'd been salvaging.
Jim crawled forward a little, growling when Spock slipped out of him. He turned around and pushed Spock to a sitting position, lowering himself into Spock's lap-nuzzling his neck and grinding his ass along the length of Spock’s dick, teasing. Jim tilted his head back, eyelids lowered, drinking in the sight of Spock: skin verdant, eyes dark and fathomless, hair falling into his eyes. Jim ran his hands through the longest parts of Spock’s hair, smirking when Spock lost patience and worked his way back into Jim’s body, lifting Jim and pushing inside.
“You know, you let your hair grow out any longer, I’ll start putting bows in it while you sleep.”
“That is inadvisable,” Spock bit out, concentration reserved for fucking Jim.
Jim put a hand on Spock’s chest, stopping him. Putting on a good show was just one of many talents James T. Kirk possessed. He let his mouth fall open a little as he rode Spock, looking him in the eyes. Spock traced the outline of the scar on the left side of Jim's face, which ran from his forehead to the middle of his cheek. Jim squeezed down around him and rocked down, wanting to take Spock's mind away from those dark memories carved into Jim's skin.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Jim's mouth as he calculated how much time he had before Spock broke. It didn't take long today. Spock growled and threw Jim onto his back, wrapping Jim’s legs around his hips and fucking him in earnest. Jim could barely catch his breath; Spock was hitting his prostate with every thrust, probably calibrating each movement to put as much strength behind them as he could without tearing Jim apart. Now it was Jim who was incoherent, staring blindly up at the ceiling, curling back so much that his shoulder blades dug into the bed below him.
“Please,” he begged, and he felt Spock shiver in reaction to that, at Jim Kirk begging for anything. Jim grabbed Spock’s hand and arranged Spock’s fingers against the three psi points on his face, the mind meld position. They had done this so often that Spock didn’t even have to correct his hand’s position before their minds opened. For a few moments, the sex was secondary; here, finally, Jim felt Spock's desperation when he refused to believe that Jim could be dead for their bond had not severed, was merely missing, and surely he would have felt the loss of Jim as he felt the loss of his planet and family. Spock, too, was learning what Jim had felt, all alone in an entire universe, in that dark, cold place that reminded him so much of the time on the prison planet before he met Spock. He had been there in that vacuum for hours, his life support diminishing, certain that he was going to die because he was truly alone and he had always known he would die alone.
The physical plane rushed back and Jim cried out from the intensity of it, feeling both his and Spock’s pleasure through the meld. Then Spock did something he rarely did, and brought his other hand up to the other side of Jim's face, opening the bond further. Jim screamed beneath it and came so hard that it was almost painful, his body seizing and his breathing cut off. Eventually he had to tear Spock's hands from his face because he could still feel Spock's arousal through the meld and it was too much. Jim spread his legs as wide as he could, whimpering as Spock kept fucking him, body weak from hours of sex and emotional transference. Finally Spock came, his face buried in Jim's neck, moaning out Jim's name. Spock carefully pulled out and fell to Jim's side. As Jim drifted to sleep, he felt Spock lay his head on his chest, over his heartbeat.
The intercom buzzed some minutes later with an urgent message from the bridge. Spock showered and dressed, smiling down at Jim, who was still passed out, sweat cooling and bites and scratches blossoming over his skin. When Spock arrived on the bridge minutes after receiving the message, everyone stood up from their stations and saluted him. He saluted back, moving to where first officer Decker was still standing at attention.
"You hailed me, Commander."
"Captain, our sensors and long-range scanners have identified a peculiar ion storm ahead."
"Peculiar in what way?"
"There seem to be energy waves radiating from a fixed point on the planet's surface. We've been tracking these waves for an hour now, and they're increasing steadily."
"Fascinating. However, it would not be prudent to idle too long observing the phenomenon. Set course to circumvent the planet in question."
"There is another factor. There is a neighboring planet, an early Class M, uncharted by any advanced civilization."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "You have my interest, Commander."
"The planet has no visible intelligent life, but does seem to have flora and fauna. Sensor readings indicate a dense gravity, an arid desert climate, a thin atmosphere, and a reddish hue."
"I wish to view it," Spock said.
"Yes sir," Decker said, moving away from the science station. Spock looked into the science scope at the planet. His breath caught. It looked exactly like Vulcan had. He viewed the more technical readings and was equally astonished that they so closely resembled the conditions of Vulcan. It took an effort to pull himself away.
"I can see now why you hesitated to take direct action."
Decker nodded. "It's in the direct path of this phenomenon. Soon the energy waves will disrupt the surface of the planet, causing significant damage at the very least. We're still unsure what exactly the phenomenon is. It's especially dangerous for us to stick around, but I know the Empire's prime directive and thought it best to consult you."
"You have acted accordingly. We must investigate this occurrence and take every measure to preserve this planet." Spock walked over and sat in the captain's chair, mind working fast. A planet so near to what Vulcan had been. Thousands of Vulcans could finally leave their ships and begin rebuilding their lost civilization. Given time, structures could be built with climate controls so that thousands of humans could reside there as well. It would be...home. The word rushed over Spock and he dared believe it could happen for the first time in years. He longed to stand upon that planet, Jim at his side, finally able to make good on the promise they had given each other and all those that followed them. The decision had been made as soon as he had seen the planet's red surface. He pressed the intercom button to the captain's quarters to call Jim. When no one answered, he went there himself, not wanting anyone else to see his bondmate in such an intimate setting.
Tracks A & C
Spock buzzed for entrance into the captain's quarters, highly curious as to why the captain had summoned him to his personal quarters. No one answered, so Spock buzzed again. This time the door opened, and Spock was hit with a strange odor. He separated the different elements using his elevated olfacatory glands and arrived at the conclusion that he was smelling a combination of sweat, bodily seminal fluids, a nondescript soap, and lubricant. He was puzzling over the logistics of all this, especially the part where the captain had not utilized the Enterprise's excellent ventilation system before conferring with any visitors, when his eyes came to rest on the bed, most specifically at the captain, who was undressed and had marks and bruises scattered over skin. Spock decided to alert the sickbay, as obviously something malicious had occurred here. The captain turned his head to look at Spock, and Spock noted that his conclusions had been correct as the captain had suffered from a deep cut. Before he could walk over to the intercom, however, the captain addressed him.
"Oh my god, you actually cut your hair?" the captain said, sitting up and swinging his legs to rest on the floor. "I was only kidding about the bows, you know.”
"I do not understand. However, it is imperative that sickbay is alerted of your condition."
The captain tipped his head back and laughed. "Oh, so now we're doing a little role play?"
"Captain, the complexities of human idioms are not within my nature to comprehend."
"All right, Spock, I'll play." Spock was quite honestly baffled as the captain slid sinuously off the bed and began to crawl toward him, much like a Terran lion stalking its prey, the movments akin to the Felis species. The action brought the captain closer, close enough for Spock to see that the cut on the captain's face was a long-healed scar, which was not possible as he had seen the captain an hour before and his face was unmarked. Even the scar itself was suspect, as scars were almost unheard of since the rise of modern technology.
The captain crawled all the way to Spock's feet and pulled himself to his knees, his head listing to the side, an expression that Spock most closely recognized as hunger on his face. Spock had difficulty translating these behaviors. In fact, Spock had never observed Humans display the behaviors he was currently witnessing. Admittedly, his knowledge of their customs was limited to his mother, Earth visitors on Vulcan, and the crew on the USS Enterprise, but it was safe to say that this behavior was unique.
"Fascinating."
The captain smiled, standing up and leaning close to Spock, edging on impropriety. "I love it when you talk dirty. Wanna see you all messed up, begging me for it this time," he said, leaning even closer, his mouth obscenely close to Spock's.
"You need to report to sickbay," Spock said.
"You're losing control," the captain sing-songed, and Spock felt a sudden rush of disappointment and anger as he realized that he was indeed behaving in an illogical manner. He made a snap decision and employed the Vulcan nerve pinch, stepping past the captain's prone form and using the intercom to contact sickbay.
"Sickbay, the captain is behaving strangely and is covered in abrasions."
"God damn it, Captain, I don't give a rat's ass how hard you fucked Jim, I've got bigger fish to fry in here, so why don't you get your Vulcan ass down here and use that big brain of yours for something useful?"
The communication snapped off. Spock held his clasped hands behind his back, dissembling that message. Why was he being referred to as the captain by the chief medical officer, whom he had never spoken to? Furthermore, given the evidence of the captain's quarters, the captain's abrasions may have resulted from an amorous encounter, which contradicted what he knew of the captain's character.
Spock heard the door swish open behind him. Before he could turn around, he was slammed against a bulkhead by a remarkably strong individual. Spock's vision whited out briefly and he felt his feet leave the floor as he was pulled upwards by his neck, which effectively cut off his air supply. When his vision swam back into view, he saw that he was being attacked by a Vulcan that looked remarkably like himself, save that his hair was grown out in an nontraditional manner and he was currently displaying distinct anger.
"Identify yourself," the Vulcan said, his voice identical to Spock's own. Spock attempted to speak but could not make use of his constrained vocal cords. Realizing this, the grip on his neck loosened just enough for him to rasp out, "I am Spock of Vulcan, Director of the Quantum Physics Department at the Vulcan Science Academy."
The grip tightened and he was once again rendered speechless. "I am Spock and there is no Vulcan. Revise your assertion."
The hold slackened. "There is no revision necessary, as this is the truth as I understand it."
"You have harmed Jim Kirk. Is he physically sound?" Spock struggled to speak, but this time it was not for the vice-like grip on his neck. In his doppleganger's eyes there was concern and a trace of fear. Emotion. His eyes did not move at all from Spock's, as if he could not bear to check the captain's status himself.
"I rendered him unconscious only. Killing is quite illogical in almost all situations."
"I would have to disagree," the Vulcan said, letting Spock's feet touch the ground but not removing his hold. "You will explain your presence. Furthermore, you will obey my orders and do as I command."
"No, Captain Spock," a third voice said from the door. "You will."
His counterpart swiftly turned his head to new individual, keeping his grip on Spock's neck. A young ensign and two security guards had phasers locked on both of them. The other Spock released him, and Spock focused on leveling his breathing while the two faced off.
"Mutiny, Mr. Chekov?"
"It was the only way!" Chekov said. Spock noted that the hand that held the phaser was shaking. "You are not leaders, you are tyrants! You lead us like dictators. You are no better than the Romulan pigs we left behind!"
"What evidence can you bring forth to support your allegations?"
"Only the evidence of everyone you control. The salutes, the blind obedience you demand! And now what is this one, a clone? Another way for you to keep us in line with your plans?"
"I assure you, I am no clone," Spock said.
"If you would lower your weapon, we may consider this a bout of insanity only. If you would logically review the facts at hand, you would understand that we are experiencing an outside threat that must be dealt with."
"You cannot fool me, Vulcan!" Chekov screamed, face exhibiting signs of high emotion and pain. The door to the captain's quarters opened, and a security guard immediately trained his weapon on the newcomer. It was Dr. McCoy, or at least someone who had a vague resemblance to the CMO. This one had small, razor-thin scars crisscrossing his face and more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes.
"What in the hell are you doing, Chekov?" the doctor burst out, enraged.
"Look at them! They are plotting something, can't you see?"
The doctor noticed Spock for the first time. He tilted his head to the side and gestured with his arm. "Who the hell is this?"
"I am Spock," he answered, seeing no reason to lie. The doctor's eyes widened and his mouth parted in shock.
"I'm guessing you're the one who told me something was wrong with Jim. You didn't press the crisis button, so I waited until I thought you two were dressed before getting down here."
"I'm so glad everyone has met. Now we are all going to go to the brig," Chekov said.
"Yeah right," the newly-awakened Kirk said from the floor, right before he kicked out at Chekov's legs, bringing him down hard. McCoy punched a bodyguard who had lowered his weapon in surprise, and the third guard tossed his weapon aside and threw his hands up in surrender. Kirk straightened, still naked, and swung around to look at the two Spocks.
"I should have known you wouldn't go that far for role play," Kirk said, addressing the other Spock with a lifted eyebrow. Then, to Spock himself: "Who the hell are you?"
Spock was spared giving the same rote answer as everyone in the room began to fade away. The other Spock reached out to grab him, but was gone before he could connect. Spock was left alone in the captain's quarters, which had lost its low lighting and most of its decorations.
Track change:
Track C
Jim pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves as he spoke to the entire ship through the intercom in his quarters.
"If you should come across anyone wearing a classic Starfleet uniform, your orders are to immediately apprehend them and send them to the brig. Set phasers to kill. If they resist, do not hesitate to fire. Kirk out."
"We need to discuss the matter of the mutiny," Spock said from his desk chair, hands steepled in thought. Jim sighed.
"We can't kill him, he's earned that much. We'll put him in the booth for a while."
"Are you certain that is wise? It may be necessary to enforce execution, as he may attempt to mutiny again."
"You know as well as I do what he's been through. He'll be my responsibility." Spock nodded once. "Besides, we've got bigger worries. For some crazy ass reason, there are doubles of people all over this ship that have just vanished from sight. We need to get the other ships away from this place and get the hell out of here, away from whatever the hell is going on with this planet you told me about."
"Jim," Spock said, standing so he could place a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Before this incident, commander Decker had discovered a planet not far from this unstable one. It is a geographical match for Vulcan."
Jim stilled, turning around to look at Spock in wonder.
"A planet like that, uncharted and well away from the Romulan and Klingon influence," said Jim. "Of course, it's next to this other goddamn planet that's fucking with our ship and, apparently, fucking with our sanity."
"I agree that we should immediately warn off the passenger and cargo ships, but perhaps we could investigate this planet further."
"Look, Spock, obviously I want that planet, and I sure as hell know what it means to you. But we're dealing with some strange shit and some other version of you managed to drop me with little effort."
"They merely had the element of surprise. This time, we will be prepared," Spock said, a razor edge of promise in his voice. Jim smirked, pulling Spock close to his lips, breathing moist air over his.
"Just think, after all these years, the Empire will be able to build on solid ground, not floating around in space, fighting for our survival on fucking starships. We'll live like kings...hell, we'll be kings."
"I have no desire to rule," Spock said.
"Bullshit. Besides, you and I won't be there long enough to put down any real roots. Not until we've found an Earth too, not until we're strong enough to defend ourselves against the Romulan and Klingon Empires. Not until we see the Romulans burn."
Spock lifted his hand and touched the scar on Jim's face, sliding two fingers from where it began above his left eyebrow down to where it ended at the middle of his cheek. Jim shivered and pulled Spock in, kissing him deep and fierce.
The buzzer sounded. Jim growled, pulling away. "Enter," he said.
"Your orders for the prisoner?" a security guard asked, saluting.
"Place Mr. Chekov in the booth for an hour," Spock said. The guard flinched, but nodded and left.
Jim nipped at Spock's ear in thanks. "Let's get to the bridge."
The ship was in chaos. They were now close enough to the planet to experience heavy tremors. Jim sat in the captain's chair while Spock busied himself at the science station, mind reeling, barking out orders to the crew. He felt better when Bones arrived, placing a hand on the back of his chair and speaking to him in low, hushed tones.
"We've got four casualties and a few serious injuries. I had to kill Olson because he was flipping out about a Romulan attack and threatening the medical staff with a knife, of all things."
"God damn, Olson," Jim said. Every loss of life pained him, and he knew that Spock would know the exact number they had left. He tried not to keep a strict count himself; hearing the numbers would keep him more awake at night than he already was.
"Whatever the hell went on earlier is making everyone a little trigger-happy. Has anybody figured out what the hell is going on yet?"
"No clue, Bones. I thought it was just Spock that was doubled, but everyone's been seeing their doubles or things on the ship itself being changed for no reason."
"I may have a theory about that," Spock said, approaching from Jim's right. "We are currently passing through an ion storm. Commander Decker has just informed me that, during the time we were interacting with our counterparts, they were able to get a read on the planet's surface, but are unable to do so now. The sensors located a single high energy source on the planet."
Jim straightened in the chair. "Meaning that if it's in one place, we could have a chance at stopping it."
"While that is essentially correct, the danger involved is substantial. Beaming down to the planet is out of the question, as the ion storm coupled with the unknown conditions on the surface of the planet would cause significant damage or outright death to any who tried. An alternative would be to send a shuttlecraft, but even if it managed to navigate successfully through the ion storm, there is the same risk to one's safety on the planet's surface."
"Your suggestion, Spock?" Bones asked, crossing his arms.
Spock's eyes fell on Jim's. "We move from the area."
"I don't have to tell you that this would mean losing that other planet," Jim said.
"It is not worth risking lives. If we move further away, we can avoid damage to the ship and perhaps gain the ability to utilize our sensors and gain more insight."
"If we go too far, we risk-" Jim was cut off by the intercom signaling. "Kirk here."
"We have a serious problem down here," Scotty said, and if his words weren't to be believed, the sounds of yelling, explosions, and alarms proved it for him.
"Let me guess; something happened to the engines and we only have impulse power," Jim said, sure that whatever was the worst thing that could possibly happen did happen.
"No, the engines have shut down completely."
Spock clasped his hands behind his back and Jim hit his fist on the arm of the chair. "Son of bitch, someone had to have done that manually. I want a security team down there and I want another team to pull the security footage to see who could have done it. You've got to get those engines started or we'll go through a hell of a lot of turbulence."
"A normal restart will take thirty minutes!" Scotty shouted over the chaos in engineering.
"In twenty minutes, we will be too close to the planet's atmosphere to effectively pull free, even with our engines," Spock said. "Should we be able to somehow break free from the massive amounts of energy we have observed emanating from the surface, our ship will be damaged beyond repair, perhaps destroyed altogether."
The bridge went quiet. Everyone looked to the center of the bridge.
"I guess someone made the decision for us," Jim said, speaking to Spock. "When we're in the planet's atmosphere, how much time will we have before the ship is destroyed from the energy alone?"
"If we do not utilize our engines, we have a window of three hours before the ship will suffer inescapable damage," said Spock. "Before then, there is going to be damage to the ship. There is a 38.9% possibility of being destroyed before the estimated time frame."
"Great, that sounds really promising," Bones said, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm going back to sickbay and letting you two play god for a while."
"I should check on those security feeds. Chekov may not have been acting alone," Jim said, standing. Spock took the chair, holding out two fingers. Jim touched them with two of his own.
I believe it is unwise for us to be separated at the moment, Spock said through their bond. You were attacked once today through an attempted mutiny.
You're awfully sweet when we're in imminent danger, Jim responded, morbidly amused.
By that criteria, I am 'sweet' in almost all of our waking moments.
I'll be fine, babe. If anything happens, I'll yell for you to come save me. Take care of our ship.
Jim pulled away and left the bridge.
Tracks B & C
"Just a few more meters and we'll be right as rain," Scotty said as they inched up the Jefferies tube to the next deck. Jim cursed as the ship rocked again, sparks flying overhead.
"Fucking turbolifts are out, the engines have stopped, my first officer is missing again, your tribble is shaming a rabbit's fertility..."
"I told Mr. Chekov not to feed her but the lad was won over by her charms," Scotty defended. A moment later they made it to the top, pulling themselves out and checking their surroundings. So far they only saw various crewmembers, but it was hard to tell if they were real or a copy of them that existed in some other universe. Jim tried carefully not to think of Spock currently in a separate universe, because that made him lose focus.
"Captain, look at this!" Scotty said, gesturing in front of him. Jim looked, not understanding what he was supposed to be looking at until he realized that Scotty meant the wall itself. On the usual blank, glowing white walls, there was a watermark of Earth with a kind of axe stuck through it. A lirpa, his mind supplied, recalling a high school history lesson that featured ancient Vulcan weapons, rare now that the Vulcans were no longer a warrior people.
"That's...different," Jim said. "Scotty, try to get back to engineering, phaser on stun. I think we're on someone else's turf."
Scotty took out his phaser and set it, nodding his head once. "Aye, Captain. Are you coming too?"
"I'm all about not splitting up, since that's the best way for the enemy to pick us off, but I have to see what else is going on and I need you down there. If you need help, signal me with your communicator."
"I don't like it, but I'll do it," Scotty said, going back to the Jefferies tube to get to engineering. Left alone, Jim carefully maneuvered through the hall, phaser held in front of him, checking around corners as he went. He made it to another Jefferies tube and climbed up that. He heard voices talking above him and was glad he was ensconced in a tube, because if those two people really were in Starfleet, they were in serious breach of the uniform code. The male was human and dressed in dark, torn jeans and a vest, his arms decorated with black bands and his neck sporting a silver choker. The woman was Vulcan, and she looked like one of Jim's wet dreams from grammar school, her shirt short enough to expose her midriff and her long legs wrapped in tight leather boots.
Jim waited until they disappeared at the other end of the corridor, then climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and made his way further along, carefully putting himself in doorways in case he ran across someone else. As he neared the middle of the deck, he heard screaming. Male, young. His mind raced as he moved, wishing the Enterprise was outfitted with some heavy pillars or something because, unless people were blind and he was extremely lucky, it was likely he wouldn't make it very far. The screams were louder now, and the voice sounded familiar, like it was someone he knew but had never heard them scream like this before. A few more minutes passed with Jim having to creatively plaster himself in doorways as other people passed, some dressed like they were going to a sexy biker bar and others dressed casually, their clothing appearing worn and bedraggled, like they either had no other outfit or they simply didn't care if they wore it until it fell off.
When he reached the source of the screams, it took all of his self control not to bust in there and start firing. A large glass chamber in the center of the room held Chekov captive, and the screams were coming from him, where he was being essentially electrocuted. But it was not his Chekov, given not only that post-Apocalyptic dress, but a close-shaven head. Two others who he assumed to be security guards stood nearby with their arms crossed, their faces impassive. There was nothing Jim could do; he could only console himself with the fact that it wasn't his universe's Chekov. He moved back to the exit the way he came when a gloved hand clamped over his mouth and another grabbed his wrist and twisted it back, painfully forcing Jim to drop his phaser. He struggled with all of his weight, but found that his aggressor was stronger than him but not inhumanly so.
Jim was dragged backwards into a room, the doors hissing shut behind them. They were in a cargo area, most likely one where they stored personal items for crew members, given the mid-ship location and small size. The hand left his mouth and Jim heard the sound of a phaser's setting being changed.
"I sure as hell hope you're ready to kill, because I'm not going to sit still and be a hostage on my own goddamn ship," he spit, jerking against the hold on his wrist. The person moved his head until lips grazed Jim's ear. Jim flinched, creeped the fuck out.
"Good thing I am, because this isn't your ship."
Jim flinched again, but this time it was because of shock. It was him, another James T. Kirk. If he had any doubt, it was gone when he was twisted around to look at himself dead in the face.
Whatever universe he was currently visiting had not been kind to this Jim Kirk. It wasn't so much the sickly scar that ran down his face as much as it was the lines filling that face, like he hadn't had a relaxing day in years. His eyes were hard, cold, the eyes of a man who had seen unspeakable horrors and inflicted some himself. There were few things that truly scared Jim, barring anything happening to those he loved, but this man terrified him, made him think of all the ways another version of himself could cut through all his bullshit and know exactly where to plunge the knife. A version of himself that wouldn't hesitate or concern himself with mercy.
"Now, you have two options. Either you can tell me which Vulcan on board your ship cut the Enterprise's engines, or we can see what it will take to make you beg."
Spock finished viewing the security feeds from the auxiliary control room, stepping over one of the other universe's crew members that he had incapacitated. It was clear that they were dealing with a second parallel universe, as was evidenced by the few oddly-placed humans and Vulcans he had come across thus far. The captain was gone and security was engaged in seeking out the trespassers who had already killed fifteen crew members in the space of twenty minutes. He himself was occupied in discovering what had happened to the engines and half the capabilities of the ship. The ship's computer had supplied him with a view of the engine room and an unidentified Vulcan appearing out of nowhere, dressed in a junior science officer uniform, cutting the power to the engines and causing other system failures. As there were no other Vulcans serving on the Enterprise in his own universe and the Vulcan was dressed differently than the more casual universe he was recently exposed to, it was only logical that either the Vulcan came from the first universe he encountered, or there were even more universes merging with their own.
They had approximately nine minutes until they were in the planet's atmosphere and would be powerless to escape. Spock had briefly toyed with the idea of a cold restart with a controlled matter/antimatter implosion in balanced engines, but Scotty was currently missing and so was an estimated one quarter of their crew, including the captain. He would not risk escaping the gravitational pull when there was no solid proof that they wouldn't be leaving their own behind to die.
His contemplations were cut short when he felt what he assumed to be a phaser press into the back of his head. An unfamiliar voice said, "Don't move a muscle, Vulcan. You're coming with me to the brig."
Spock attempted to swiftly turn and incapacitate his attacker, but the man knocked his arm away and backed up, keeping the gun trained on Spock the entire time. The human was blonde and classically handsome, wearing a finer grade of garments than the others Spock had previously encountered from this universe, his loosely-termed uniform featuring a black leather coat. Spock surmised that all this signified that he was an officer.
"Nice try. You must be that Vulcan that looks like Captain Spock," the man said, sneering at him. Spock raised an eyebrow, folding his hands behind his back.
"I do not believe that we are the same Spock, for I was unaware that there existed one who was captain of the Enterprise."
"Uh huh, right, I'm sure they'll love to get revenge on you for getting past them. Not many do."
The man reached into his belt and pulled out a communicator with a slimmer design and what appeared to be a symbol of a planet with a lirpa running through it. Quite odd. "Decker to Captain Kirk, I've got that Vulcan you wanted." There was no response, so Decker tried again, still to no avail. He changed the frequency. "Captain Spock, come in Captain Spock."
"Spock here," Spock heard, surprise filling him as he heard himself speak.
"I've got that Vulcan that looks like you on Deck 9. I can bring him to the bridge if you want."
"The bridge is compromised, Commander. I will come to you. Have you been able to reach Captain Kirk?"
"Negative, sir. His signal is jammed."
"Adjust the signal and continue attempts to reach him."
"Captain, if his personal signal is jammed-"
"Damn you sir, you will try," Captain Spock said, and Spock furrowed his eyebrows. This version of himself was both ruthless and worried.
Decker appeared genuinely contrite, muttering a low, "Yes Captain," and attempting to change the signal while keeping his gun trained on Spock.
"It is illogical to adjust the signal," Spock said, mind flitting over the fact that his counterpart would suggest such an illogical action.
"Yeah, we both know that, but it's Captain Kirk, so goodbye logic."
Spock let Decker work, mind fixed on the imminent meeting with his other self. He had thought that meeting an alternate version of himself was a unique event in one's life, but probability itself could not account for repeated singularities.
"Commander, you called both of them Captain. I admit that I fail to understand why you would do so."
Decker quirked his mouth, looking over the communicator at Spock. "They're both captain. We're not your typical space-faring vessel."
If Spock were human, he would have used one of the captain's favorite colorful expressions: No shit, Sherlock.
Track change:
Track A
Jim rose from the captain's chair and turned to face the ring of security guards that were assembled on the bridge.
"Computer," Jim said. "Scan all living organisms aboard the ship. Only identify lifeforms with a heartbeat over 150 beats per minute."
"Scanning," said the computer. "Lifeforms identified. Nine organisms detected."
"Give tracking coordinates," he ordered. While security programmed the information the computer was reeling off, Jim strode over to the science station.
"Lt. Gaila, have you been able to read anything else on that planet?" he asked.
"Our last readings confirm that there is some kind of alien structure on the planet. I don't know if it's that same time portal the Vulcans reported, but it's there. Yet the source of all this energy is coming from miles away from that."
"Is it another kind of source? Those waves of time the Vulcans were tipped off about?"
"There are no structures around it and it's too powerful for us to scan properly. Captain," she said, lowering her voice in confidence. "The Vulcans sent in data from their own scans during this time frame and identified some of the elements. There were high levels of hydrogen and helium. It's emitting gamma ray photons, which are causing a small amount of stellar wind, and that's what's causing the time waves we observed coming from the portal and what's making the atmosphere lock us in and pull us toward the nucleus of the energy source.
"Is it just me, or did it sound like you were describing-"
"A star. A very, very small star, forming on the surface of the planet."
"How in the hell is that scientifically possible?"
"By all estimates, it shouldn't be. It's like someone put it there, or it was already there, which is impossible because at the rate it's expanding, it would have grown into something much, much larger by now."
"Keep trying to read the surface, I want more data. Our Vulcan guests are going to be busy for awhi-"
The ship rocked hard and cut Jim off mid-speech. He hurled sideways, skidding down the bridge and landing on the floor behind the helm control, where he grabbed onto the base of the helm chair to keep himself still. The ship shuddered once more, then went back to a heavy vibration. Lt. Sulu helped Jim to his feet and the crew resumed their stations.
"Security," Jim said. "Your bioscanners will be able to lead you to each Vulcan on board. I want at least three security officers to every Vulcan. Bring them to the brig for questioning. It's unlikely they'll rebel, but if one does, do what you have to."
"Sir," said his head of security. "Does this order apply to the director, as well?"
Jim hesitated. "The Vulcan on our recordings wasn't the director, but I still want all of them apprehended." Jim cut his eyes over to Stiles, who had been infuriatingly smug ever since they'd viewed the security footage of a Vulcan shutting down their engines. He absolutely hated saying this, but there was nothing else he could do. "We can't be certain that one worked alone. Phasers on stun. Lt. Sulu, you have the conn."
Jim entered the turbolift, flanked by Stiles. He stilled Stiles' hand as it reached for the control and Stiles put his hands behind his back, at attention.
"Commander, let us get a few things clear. The only reason I'm bringing you to the questioning is because it's regulation for the first officer to be included in questioning of a high-profile fugitive. While we are there, you are to reserve your objectivity and keep all personal opinions to yourself. I'll be damned if you go in there and start accusing all the Vulcans of treachery."
"With all due respect, Captain," Stiles said, his tone making Jim's jaw tighten, "At least one Vulcan has already been confirmed as a guilty party. The ship's in danger and we're in a war for our lives-"
"A war, Commander? Nothing has been confirmed, despite your insinuations. Just because your ancestors fought in a war with the Romulans a hundred years ago doesn't mean that you are still at war with anyone who happens to have pointy ears."
"No, but I do protest against anyone who's going to cause the death of over 500 crew members, sir," he said, face red with barely-controlled anger.
"I'll handle the majority of the questions. We don't have the time to waste on grudges; we need to focus on figuring out why they shut off the engines and how we resolve this crisis, lives intact." Jim pressed the button for Deck 3, ending the conversation.
"I have your orders, Captain," Stiles muttered, staring at the wall next to him.
Jim watched as the Vulcans were escorted into the brig. Director Spock had been the third Vulcan ushered in, and the blank look on his face had made Jim uneasy until he remembered that was the director's usual expression. None of the nine Vulcans in the research team had to be brought in by force.
Jim-flanked on either side by Stiles and two security officers-identified the Vulcan who'd shut off the engines within a minute of looking at all of them lined up in a cell; the culprit's name was Narak. Jim had Narak separated from the other Vulcans to another section of the cell, under the observation of two security personnel. Jim scrutinized the Vulcans' faces for any sign of guilt, but, of course, there was none. His eyes lingered on the director. Jim refused to believe that he could have been in confidence with Narak; in fact, the whole situation didn't add up-Vulcans had a logical respect for life and were, despite their violent origins, a peaceful people.
"Narak," he began, breaking eye contact with the director to look at the other Vulcan. "You were caught by the ship's security feed shutting down the engines during a crucial moment which sent the Enterprise into this volatile planet's atmosphere, possibly sending us all to our deaths. Since there's no question of your guilt, I only ask why you did it."
Narak simply looked at him.
"You must give testimony, Narak, to your crime," Director Spock said, turning toward his team member. Narak still said nothing.
"Don't speak unless the captain asks you to," Stiles commanded. Spock nodded his head in acceptance, but Jim frowned.
"The director hasn't been charged with a crime himself, so he has every right to respectfully parlay for his team member, Commander," Jim said, brusque. Fucking asshole. He gave Spock a small smile. "I apologize. We're all a little on edge."
"No apologies are necessary. It is clear that the perpetrator of this crime chooses to remain silent on the matter. It is logical for you to keep the entire team here in the brig, as it is uncertain if he acted on his own impetus. I render my own testimony, that I was not aware of Narak's actions, nor do I approve of them. You may question the rest of my team. If we recover from this crisis, my team and I will submit to Starfleet's tribunal on these matters."
"Problem is, we don't have time for all that. You guys figured out what the source of the energy field is, and it's likely that none of us will survive unless we can gain more insight."
"I remind you, Captain, that we can't let the other eight loose on the ship. Even with security on each of them, there's no guarantee they can all can be monitored," Stiles said. "Also, we don't know if that information or any other information collected by their team has been falsified."
"I can assure you that our calculations have not been tampered with and that our data is accurate," Spock said, addressing Jim.
"And we're supposed to trust your word?" Stiles asked.
"Commander," Jim said. "You're needed on the bridge. Relieve Lt. Sulu from the conn and put yourself in charge."
Stiles left, but not before giving both Jim and Spock nasty glares.
"My first officer was right about one thing. We can't let all of you return to duty. I want only Director Spock released, under my command and authority," he said. If he was wrong and they lived through this, Jim could be charged with reckless endangerment, but he didn't have the luxury of following procedure.
"Acknowledged, Captain," Spock said, moving from the group to stand at his side. Jim nodded to the guards, knowing they would know to lock up their prisoners accordingly. He walked swiftly from the brig, Spock trailing behind him.
"I was briefed on the information that was collected, Mr. Spock. Do you have any theories?"
"I do," Spock said. Jim stopped and turned back to give his full attention. "Before the discovery of this phenomenon, my team was involved in a top secret project."
"You're the head of the quantum physics department, so I assume what you were working on had something involving atomic and subatomic materials."
"Indeed."
"Like something that could artificially produce a star?"
"Not precisely. I am certain that you remember the day Vulcan was almost destroyed."
"I'm sure everyone in the quadrant knows my involvement," Jim said. "Captain Pike made me acting captain of the Enterprise and sent a team to disarm the drill. They disarmed it while I beamed aboard the Narada to bring Pike back. We stole a really advanced ship, realized the invading Romulans were from the future, and made it out just before Nero self-destructed his own ship to avoid capture."
"The vessel you recovered, the Jellyfish, was commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy. It was returned to us for analysis. Inside we found the red matter that was to be used to destroy Vulcan. While we knew of its ability to create a black hole, we were unable to discover how the red matter was constructed."
Jim smirked. "I imagine it's hard to put that stuff under a microscope."
"It took us months of careful research to even develop a way to handle the material. We had isolated every property of the red matter and had discovered the final isotope 3.5 standard weeks ago."
"Narak was a part of this project?"
"He was."
"Then it looks like he gave that info to someone else. Imagine a weapon like that in the wrong hands."
"It appears that someone received the information, attempted to synthesize red matter, and launched the red matter into a barren planet as an experiment."
"Which failed, and now we've gotta clean up the mess. I still can't figure out why Narak would turn off the engines when it's obvious that he knew what was happening. Wouldn't he want to get the hell out of here?"
"There is a factor we are overlooking," Spock agreed.
"Hold on, this flooring is different," Jim said, holding out his arm to stop Spock. It wasn't a huge difference, but the floor was solid black and was missing the single silver stripe that ran down the middle of all the floors throughout the Enterprise. He looked up and down the hallway, then walked further along, wary. As he walked, the silver striped faded back, but he ignored that in favor of the watermarks he had seen earlier; they flickered in and out on random walls. As he rounded the last corner, he stilled as he saw people themselves fade in and out, each confused or scared, and it was then he realized what was happening.
The universes were merging completely.
Next
When Jim had woken up and been released from sickbay, Spock had dragged Jim to their quarters and promptly fucked him over his desk, pulling Jim's pants down just enough for the material to bunch under his ass before slamming in, Jim's hands scrabbling for the edge of the desk to hold himself up. Jim had only found out later that most of Spock's anger had been because Jim had insisted Spock beam up before him from the wreck of an old Federation ship they'd been salvaging.
Jim crawled forward a little, growling when Spock slipped out of him. He turned around and pushed Spock to a sitting position, lowering himself into Spock's lap-nuzzling his neck and grinding his ass along the length of Spock’s dick, teasing. Jim tilted his head back, eyelids lowered, drinking in the sight of Spock: skin verdant, eyes dark and fathomless, hair falling into his eyes. Jim ran his hands through the longest parts of Spock’s hair, smirking when Spock lost patience and worked his way back into Jim’s body, lifting Jim and pushing inside.
“You know, you let your hair grow out any longer, I’ll start putting bows in it while you sleep.”
“That is inadvisable,” Spock bit out, concentration reserved for fucking Jim.
Jim put a hand on Spock’s chest, stopping him. Putting on a good show was just one of many talents James T. Kirk possessed. He let his mouth fall open a little as he rode Spock, looking him in the eyes. Spock traced the outline of the scar on the left side of Jim's face, which ran from his forehead to the middle of his cheek. Jim squeezed down around him and rocked down, wanting to take Spock's mind away from those dark memories carved into Jim's skin.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Jim's mouth as he calculated how much time he had before Spock broke. It didn't take long today. Spock growled and threw Jim onto his back, wrapping Jim’s legs around his hips and fucking him in earnest. Jim could barely catch his breath; Spock was hitting his prostate with every thrust, probably calibrating each movement to put as much strength behind them as he could without tearing Jim apart. Now it was Jim who was incoherent, staring blindly up at the ceiling, curling back so much that his shoulder blades dug into the bed below him.
“Please,” he begged, and he felt Spock shiver in reaction to that, at Jim Kirk begging for anything. Jim grabbed Spock’s hand and arranged Spock’s fingers against the three psi points on his face, the mind meld position. They had done this so often that Spock didn’t even have to correct his hand’s position before their minds opened. For a few moments, the sex was secondary; here, finally, Jim felt Spock's desperation when he refused to believe that Jim could be dead for their bond had not severed, was merely missing, and surely he would have felt the loss of Jim as he felt the loss of his planet and family. Spock, too, was learning what Jim had felt, all alone in an entire universe, in that dark, cold place that reminded him so much of the time on the prison planet before he met Spock. He had been there in that vacuum for hours, his life support diminishing, certain that he was going to die because he was truly alone and he had always known he would die alone.
The physical plane rushed back and Jim cried out from the intensity of it, feeling both his and Spock’s pleasure through the meld. Then Spock did something he rarely did, and brought his other hand up to the other side of Jim's face, opening the bond further. Jim screamed beneath it and came so hard that it was almost painful, his body seizing and his breathing cut off. Eventually he had to tear Spock's hands from his face because he could still feel Spock's arousal through the meld and it was too much. Jim spread his legs as wide as he could, whimpering as Spock kept fucking him, body weak from hours of sex and emotional transference. Finally Spock came, his face buried in Jim's neck, moaning out Jim's name. Spock carefully pulled out and fell to Jim's side. As Jim drifted to sleep, he felt Spock lay his head on his chest, over his heartbeat.
The intercom buzzed some minutes later with an urgent message from the bridge. Spock showered and dressed, smiling down at Jim, who was still passed out, sweat cooling and bites and scratches blossoming over his skin. When Spock arrived on the bridge minutes after receiving the message, everyone stood up from their stations and saluted him. He saluted back, moving to where first officer Decker was still standing at attention.
"You hailed me, Commander."
"Captain, our sensors and long-range scanners have identified a peculiar ion storm ahead."
"Peculiar in what way?"
"There seem to be energy waves radiating from a fixed point on the planet's surface. We've been tracking these waves for an hour now, and they're increasing steadily."
"Fascinating. However, it would not be prudent to idle too long observing the phenomenon. Set course to circumvent the planet in question."
"There is another factor. There is a neighboring planet, an early Class M, uncharted by any advanced civilization."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "You have my interest, Commander."
"The planet has no visible intelligent life, but does seem to have flora and fauna. Sensor readings indicate a dense gravity, an arid desert climate, a thin atmosphere, and a reddish hue."
"I wish to view it," Spock said.
"Yes sir," Decker said, moving away from the science station. Spock looked into the science scope at the planet. His breath caught. It looked exactly like Vulcan had. He viewed the more technical readings and was equally astonished that they so closely resembled the conditions of Vulcan. It took an effort to pull himself away.
"I can see now why you hesitated to take direct action."
Decker nodded. "It's in the direct path of this phenomenon. Soon the energy waves will disrupt the surface of the planet, causing significant damage at the very least. We're still unsure what exactly the phenomenon is. It's especially dangerous for us to stick around, but I know the Empire's prime directive and thought it best to consult you."
"You have acted accordingly. We must investigate this occurrence and take every measure to preserve this planet." Spock walked over and sat in the captain's chair, mind working fast. A planet so near to what Vulcan had been. Thousands of Vulcans could finally leave their ships and begin rebuilding their lost civilization. Given time, structures could be built with climate controls so that thousands of humans could reside there as well. It would be...home. The word rushed over Spock and he dared believe it could happen for the first time in years. He longed to stand upon that planet, Jim at his side, finally able to make good on the promise they had given each other and all those that followed them. The decision had been made as soon as he had seen the planet's red surface. He pressed the intercom button to the captain's quarters to call Jim. When no one answered, he went there himself, not wanting anyone else to see his bondmate in such an intimate setting.
Tracks A & C
Spock buzzed for entrance into the captain's quarters, highly curious as to why the captain had summoned him to his personal quarters. No one answered, so Spock buzzed again. This time the door opened, and Spock was hit with a strange odor. He separated the different elements using his elevated olfacatory glands and arrived at the conclusion that he was smelling a combination of sweat, bodily seminal fluids, a nondescript soap, and lubricant. He was puzzling over the logistics of all this, especially the part where the captain had not utilized the Enterprise's excellent ventilation system before conferring with any visitors, when his eyes came to rest on the bed, most specifically at the captain, who was undressed and had marks and bruises scattered over skin. Spock decided to alert the sickbay, as obviously something malicious had occurred here. The captain turned his head to look at Spock, and Spock noted that his conclusions had been correct as the captain had suffered from a deep cut. Before he could walk over to the intercom, however, the captain addressed him.
"Oh my god, you actually cut your hair?" the captain said, sitting up and swinging his legs to rest on the floor. "I was only kidding about the bows, you know.”
"I do not understand. However, it is imperative that sickbay is alerted of your condition."
The captain tipped his head back and laughed. "Oh, so now we're doing a little role play?"
"Captain, the complexities of human idioms are not within my nature to comprehend."
"All right, Spock, I'll play." Spock was quite honestly baffled as the captain slid sinuously off the bed and began to crawl toward him, much like a Terran lion stalking its prey, the movments akin to the Felis species. The action brought the captain closer, close enough for Spock to see that the cut on the captain's face was a long-healed scar, which was not possible as he had seen the captain an hour before and his face was unmarked. Even the scar itself was suspect, as scars were almost unheard of since the rise of modern technology.
The captain crawled all the way to Spock's feet and pulled himself to his knees, his head listing to the side, an expression that Spock most closely recognized as hunger on his face. Spock had difficulty translating these behaviors. In fact, Spock had never observed Humans display the behaviors he was currently witnessing. Admittedly, his knowledge of their customs was limited to his mother, Earth visitors on Vulcan, and the crew on the USS Enterprise, but it was safe to say that this behavior was unique.
"Fascinating."
The captain smiled, standing up and leaning close to Spock, edging on impropriety. "I love it when you talk dirty. Wanna see you all messed up, begging me for it this time," he said, leaning even closer, his mouth obscenely close to Spock's.
"You need to report to sickbay," Spock said.
"You're losing control," the captain sing-songed, and Spock felt a sudden rush of disappointment and anger as he realized that he was indeed behaving in an illogical manner. He made a snap decision and employed the Vulcan nerve pinch, stepping past the captain's prone form and using the intercom to contact sickbay.
"Sickbay, the captain is behaving strangely and is covered in abrasions."
"God damn it, Captain, I don't give a rat's ass how hard you fucked Jim, I've got bigger fish to fry in here, so why don't you get your Vulcan ass down here and use that big brain of yours for something useful?"
The communication snapped off. Spock held his clasped hands behind his back, dissembling that message. Why was he being referred to as the captain by the chief medical officer, whom he had never spoken to? Furthermore, given the evidence of the captain's quarters, the captain's abrasions may have resulted from an amorous encounter, which contradicted what he knew of the captain's character.
Spock heard the door swish open behind him. Before he could turn around, he was slammed against a bulkhead by a remarkably strong individual. Spock's vision whited out briefly and he felt his feet leave the floor as he was pulled upwards by his neck, which effectively cut off his air supply. When his vision swam back into view, he saw that he was being attacked by a Vulcan that looked remarkably like himself, save that his hair was grown out in an nontraditional manner and he was currently displaying distinct anger.
"Identify yourself," the Vulcan said, his voice identical to Spock's own. Spock attempted to speak but could not make use of his constrained vocal cords. Realizing this, the grip on his neck loosened just enough for him to rasp out, "I am Spock of Vulcan, Director of the Quantum Physics Department at the Vulcan Science Academy."
The grip tightened and he was once again rendered speechless. "I am Spock and there is no Vulcan. Revise your assertion."
The hold slackened. "There is no revision necessary, as this is the truth as I understand it."
"You have harmed Jim Kirk. Is he physically sound?" Spock struggled to speak, but this time it was not for the vice-like grip on his neck. In his doppleganger's eyes there was concern and a trace of fear. Emotion. His eyes did not move at all from Spock's, as if he could not bear to check the captain's status himself.
"I rendered him unconscious only. Killing is quite illogical in almost all situations."
"I would have to disagree," the Vulcan said, letting Spock's feet touch the ground but not removing his hold. "You will explain your presence. Furthermore, you will obey my orders and do as I command."
"No, Captain Spock," a third voice said from the door. "You will."
His counterpart swiftly turned his head to new individual, keeping his grip on Spock's neck. A young ensign and two security guards had phasers locked on both of them. The other Spock released him, and Spock focused on leveling his breathing while the two faced off.
"Mutiny, Mr. Chekov?"
"It was the only way!" Chekov said. Spock noted that the hand that held the phaser was shaking. "You are not leaders, you are tyrants! You lead us like dictators. You are no better than the Romulan pigs we left behind!"
"What evidence can you bring forth to support your allegations?"
"Only the evidence of everyone you control. The salutes, the blind obedience you demand! And now what is this one, a clone? Another way for you to keep us in line with your plans?"
"I assure you, I am no clone," Spock said.
"If you would lower your weapon, we may consider this a bout of insanity only. If you would logically review the facts at hand, you would understand that we are experiencing an outside threat that must be dealt with."
"You cannot fool me, Vulcan!" Chekov screamed, face exhibiting signs of high emotion and pain. The door to the captain's quarters opened, and a security guard immediately trained his weapon on the newcomer. It was Dr. McCoy, or at least someone who had a vague resemblance to the CMO. This one had small, razor-thin scars crisscrossing his face and more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes.
"What in the hell are you doing, Chekov?" the doctor burst out, enraged.
"Look at them! They are plotting something, can't you see?"
The doctor noticed Spock for the first time. He tilted his head to the side and gestured with his arm. "Who the hell is this?"
"I am Spock," he answered, seeing no reason to lie. The doctor's eyes widened and his mouth parted in shock.
"I'm guessing you're the one who told me something was wrong with Jim. You didn't press the crisis button, so I waited until I thought you two were dressed before getting down here."
"I'm so glad everyone has met. Now we are all going to go to the brig," Chekov said.
"Yeah right," the newly-awakened Kirk said from the floor, right before he kicked out at Chekov's legs, bringing him down hard. McCoy punched a bodyguard who had lowered his weapon in surprise, and the third guard tossed his weapon aside and threw his hands up in surrender. Kirk straightened, still naked, and swung around to look at the two Spocks.
"I should have known you wouldn't go that far for role play," Kirk said, addressing the other Spock with a lifted eyebrow. Then, to Spock himself: "Who the hell are you?"
Spock was spared giving the same rote answer as everyone in the room began to fade away. The other Spock reached out to grab him, but was gone before he could connect. Spock was left alone in the captain's quarters, which had lost its low lighting and most of its decorations.
Track change:
Track C
Jim pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves as he spoke to the entire ship through the intercom in his quarters.
"If you should come across anyone wearing a classic Starfleet uniform, your orders are to immediately apprehend them and send them to the brig. Set phasers to kill. If they resist, do not hesitate to fire. Kirk out."
"We need to discuss the matter of the mutiny," Spock said from his desk chair, hands steepled in thought. Jim sighed.
"We can't kill him, he's earned that much. We'll put him in the booth for a while."
"Are you certain that is wise? It may be necessary to enforce execution, as he may attempt to mutiny again."
"You know as well as I do what he's been through. He'll be my responsibility." Spock nodded once. "Besides, we've got bigger worries. For some crazy ass reason, there are doubles of people all over this ship that have just vanished from sight. We need to get the other ships away from this place and get the hell out of here, away from whatever the hell is going on with this planet you told me about."
"Jim," Spock said, standing so he could place a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Before this incident, commander Decker had discovered a planet not far from this unstable one. It is a geographical match for Vulcan."
Jim stilled, turning around to look at Spock in wonder.
"A planet like that, uncharted and well away from the Romulan and Klingon influence," said Jim. "Of course, it's next to this other goddamn planet that's fucking with our ship and, apparently, fucking with our sanity."
"I agree that we should immediately warn off the passenger and cargo ships, but perhaps we could investigate this planet further."
"Look, Spock, obviously I want that planet, and I sure as hell know what it means to you. But we're dealing with some strange shit and some other version of you managed to drop me with little effort."
"They merely had the element of surprise. This time, we will be prepared," Spock said, a razor edge of promise in his voice. Jim smirked, pulling Spock close to his lips, breathing moist air over his.
"Just think, after all these years, the Empire will be able to build on solid ground, not floating around in space, fighting for our survival on fucking starships. We'll live like kings...hell, we'll be kings."
"I have no desire to rule," Spock said.
"Bullshit. Besides, you and I won't be there long enough to put down any real roots. Not until we've found an Earth too, not until we're strong enough to defend ourselves against the Romulan and Klingon Empires. Not until we see the Romulans burn."
Spock lifted his hand and touched the scar on Jim's face, sliding two fingers from where it began above his left eyebrow down to where it ended at the middle of his cheek. Jim shivered and pulled Spock in, kissing him deep and fierce.
The buzzer sounded. Jim growled, pulling away. "Enter," he said.
"Your orders for the prisoner?" a security guard asked, saluting.
"Place Mr. Chekov in the booth for an hour," Spock said. The guard flinched, but nodded and left.
Jim nipped at Spock's ear in thanks. "Let's get to the bridge."
The ship was in chaos. They were now close enough to the planet to experience heavy tremors. Jim sat in the captain's chair while Spock busied himself at the science station, mind reeling, barking out orders to the crew. He felt better when Bones arrived, placing a hand on the back of his chair and speaking to him in low, hushed tones.
"We've got four casualties and a few serious injuries. I had to kill Olson because he was flipping out about a Romulan attack and threatening the medical staff with a knife, of all things."
"God damn, Olson," Jim said. Every loss of life pained him, and he knew that Spock would know the exact number they had left. He tried not to keep a strict count himself; hearing the numbers would keep him more awake at night than he already was.
"Whatever the hell went on earlier is making everyone a little trigger-happy. Has anybody figured out what the hell is going on yet?"
"No clue, Bones. I thought it was just Spock that was doubled, but everyone's been seeing their doubles or things on the ship itself being changed for no reason."
"I may have a theory about that," Spock said, approaching from Jim's right. "We are currently passing through an ion storm. Commander Decker has just informed me that, during the time we were interacting with our counterparts, they were able to get a read on the planet's surface, but are unable to do so now. The sensors located a single high energy source on the planet."
Jim straightened in the chair. "Meaning that if it's in one place, we could have a chance at stopping it."
"While that is essentially correct, the danger involved is substantial. Beaming down to the planet is out of the question, as the ion storm coupled with the unknown conditions on the surface of the planet would cause significant damage or outright death to any who tried. An alternative would be to send a shuttlecraft, but even if it managed to navigate successfully through the ion storm, there is the same risk to one's safety on the planet's surface."
"Your suggestion, Spock?" Bones asked, crossing his arms.
Spock's eyes fell on Jim's. "We move from the area."
"I don't have to tell you that this would mean losing that other planet," Jim said.
"It is not worth risking lives. If we move further away, we can avoid damage to the ship and perhaps gain the ability to utilize our sensors and gain more insight."
"If we go too far, we risk-" Jim was cut off by the intercom signaling. "Kirk here."
"We have a serious problem down here," Scotty said, and if his words weren't to be believed, the sounds of yelling, explosions, and alarms proved it for him.
"Let me guess; something happened to the engines and we only have impulse power," Jim said, sure that whatever was the worst thing that could possibly happen did happen.
"No, the engines have shut down completely."
Spock clasped his hands behind his back and Jim hit his fist on the arm of the chair. "Son of bitch, someone had to have done that manually. I want a security team down there and I want another team to pull the security footage to see who could have done it. You've got to get those engines started or we'll go through a hell of a lot of turbulence."
"A normal restart will take thirty minutes!" Scotty shouted over the chaos in engineering.
"In twenty minutes, we will be too close to the planet's atmosphere to effectively pull free, even with our engines," Spock said. "Should we be able to somehow break free from the massive amounts of energy we have observed emanating from the surface, our ship will be damaged beyond repair, perhaps destroyed altogether."
The bridge went quiet. Everyone looked to the center of the bridge.
"I guess someone made the decision for us," Jim said, speaking to Spock. "When we're in the planet's atmosphere, how much time will we have before the ship is destroyed from the energy alone?"
"If we do not utilize our engines, we have a window of three hours before the ship will suffer inescapable damage," said Spock. "Before then, there is going to be damage to the ship. There is a 38.9% possibility of being destroyed before the estimated time frame."
"Great, that sounds really promising," Bones said, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm going back to sickbay and letting you two play god for a while."
"I should check on those security feeds. Chekov may not have been acting alone," Jim said, standing. Spock took the chair, holding out two fingers. Jim touched them with two of his own.
I believe it is unwise for us to be separated at the moment, Spock said through their bond. You were attacked once today through an attempted mutiny.
You're awfully sweet when we're in imminent danger, Jim responded, morbidly amused.
By that criteria, I am 'sweet' in almost all of our waking moments.
I'll be fine, babe. If anything happens, I'll yell for you to come save me. Take care of our ship.
Jim pulled away and left the bridge.
Tracks B & C
"Just a few more meters and we'll be right as rain," Scotty said as they inched up the Jefferies tube to the next deck. Jim cursed as the ship rocked again, sparks flying overhead.
"Fucking turbolifts are out, the engines have stopped, my first officer is missing again, your tribble is shaming a rabbit's fertility..."
"I told Mr. Chekov not to feed her but the lad was won over by her charms," Scotty defended. A moment later they made it to the top, pulling themselves out and checking their surroundings. So far they only saw various crewmembers, but it was hard to tell if they were real or a copy of them that existed in some other universe. Jim tried carefully not to think of Spock currently in a separate universe, because that made him lose focus.
"Captain, look at this!" Scotty said, gesturing in front of him. Jim looked, not understanding what he was supposed to be looking at until he realized that Scotty meant the wall itself. On the usual blank, glowing white walls, there was a watermark of Earth with a kind of axe stuck through it. A lirpa, his mind supplied, recalling a high school history lesson that featured ancient Vulcan weapons, rare now that the Vulcans were no longer a warrior people.
"That's...different," Jim said. "Scotty, try to get back to engineering, phaser on stun. I think we're on someone else's turf."
Scotty took out his phaser and set it, nodding his head once. "Aye, Captain. Are you coming too?"
"I'm all about not splitting up, since that's the best way for the enemy to pick us off, but I have to see what else is going on and I need you down there. If you need help, signal me with your communicator."
"I don't like it, but I'll do it," Scotty said, going back to the Jefferies tube to get to engineering. Left alone, Jim carefully maneuvered through the hall, phaser held in front of him, checking around corners as he went. He made it to another Jefferies tube and climbed up that. He heard voices talking above him and was glad he was ensconced in a tube, because if those two people really were in Starfleet, they were in serious breach of the uniform code. The male was human and dressed in dark, torn jeans and a vest, his arms decorated with black bands and his neck sporting a silver choker. The woman was Vulcan, and she looked like one of Jim's wet dreams from grammar school, her shirt short enough to expose her midriff and her long legs wrapped in tight leather boots.
Jim waited until they disappeared at the other end of the corridor, then climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and made his way further along, carefully putting himself in doorways in case he ran across someone else. As he neared the middle of the deck, he heard screaming. Male, young. His mind raced as he moved, wishing the Enterprise was outfitted with some heavy pillars or something because, unless people were blind and he was extremely lucky, it was likely he wouldn't make it very far. The screams were louder now, and the voice sounded familiar, like it was someone he knew but had never heard them scream like this before. A few more minutes passed with Jim having to creatively plaster himself in doorways as other people passed, some dressed like they were going to a sexy biker bar and others dressed casually, their clothing appearing worn and bedraggled, like they either had no other outfit or they simply didn't care if they wore it until it fell off.
When he reached the source of the screams, it took all of his self control not to bust in there and start firing. A large glass chamber in the center of the room held Chekov captive, and the screams were coming from him, where he was being essentially electrocuted. But it was not his Chekov, given not only that post-Apocalyptic dress, but a close-shaven head. Two others who he assumed to be security guards stood nearby with their arms crossed, their faces impassive. There was nothing Jim could do; he could only console himself with the fact that it wasn't his universe's Chekov. He moved back to the exit the way he came when a gloved hand clamped over his mouth and another grabbed his wrist and twisted it back, painfully forcing Jim to drop his phaser. He struggled with all of his weight, but found that his aggressor was stronger than him but not inhumanly so.
Jim was dragged backwards into a room, the doors hissing shut behind them. They were in a cargo area, most likely one where they stored personal items for crew members, given the mid-ship location and small size. The hand left his mouth and Jim heard the sound of a phaser's setting being changed.
"I sure as hell hope you're ready to kill, because I'm not going to sit still and be a hostage on my own goddamn ship," he spit, jerking against the hold on his wrist. The person moved his head until lips grazed Jim's ear. Jim flinched, creeped the fuck out.
"Good thing I am, because this isn't your ship."
Jim flinched again, but this time it was because of shock. It was him, another James T. Kirk. If he had any doubt, it was gone when he was twisted around to look at himself dead in the face.
Whatever universe he was currently visiting had not been kind to this Jim Kirk. It wasn't so much the sickly scar that ran down his face as much as it was the lines filling that face, like he hadn't had a relaxing day in years. His eyes were hard, cold, the eyes of a man who had seen unspeakable horrors and inflicted some himself. There were few things that truly scared Jim, barring anything happening to those he loved, but this man terrified him, made him think of all the ways another version of himself could cut through all his bullshit and know exactly where to plunge the knife. A version of himself that wouldn't hesitate or concern himself with mercy.
"Now, you have two options. Either you can tell me which Vulcan on board your ship cut the Enterprise's engines, or we can see what it will take to make you beg."
Spock finished viewing the security feeds from the auxiliary control room, stepping over one of the other universe's crew members that he had incapacitated. It was clear that they were dealing with a second parallel universe, as was evidenced by the few oddly-placed humans and Vulcans he had come across thus far. The captain was gone and security was engaged in seeking out the trespassers who had already killed fifteen crew members in the space of twenty minutes. He himself was occupied in discovering what had happened to the engines and half the capabilities of the ship. The ship's computer had supplied him with a view of the engine room and an unidentified Vulcan appearing out of nowhere, dressed in a junior science officer uniform, cutting the power to the engines and causing other system failures. As there were no other Vulcans serving on the Enterprise in his own universe and the Vulcan was dressed differently than the more casual universe he was recently exposed to, it was only logical that either the Vulcan came from the first universe he encountered, or there were even more universes merging with their own.
They had approximately nine minutes until they were in the planet's atmosphere and would be powerless to escape. Spock had briefly toyed with the idea of a cold restart with a controlled matter/antimatter implosion in balanced engines, but Scotty was currently missing and so was an estimated one quarter of their crew, including the captain. He would not risk escaping the gravitational pull when there was no solid proof that they wouldn't be leaving their own behind to die.
His contemplations were cut short when he felt what he assumed to be a phaser press into the back of his head. An unfamiliar voice said, "Don't move a muscle, Vulcan. You're coming with me to the brig."
Spock attempted to swiftly turn and incapacitate his attacker, but the man knocked his arm away and backed up, keeping the gun trained on Spock the entire time. The human was blonde and classically handsome, wearing a finer grade of garments than the others Spock had previously encountered from this universe, his loosely-termed uniform featuring a black leather coat. Spock surmised that all this signified that he was an officer.
"Nice try. You must be that Vulcan that looks like Captain Spock," the man said, sneering at him. Spock raised an eyebrow, folding his hands behind his back.
"I do not believe that we are the same Spock, for I was unaware that there existed one who was captain of the Enterprise."
"Uh huh, right, I'm sure they'll love to get revenge on you for getting past them. Not many do."
The man reached into his belt and pulled out a communicator with a slimmer design and what appeared to be a symbol of a planet with a lirpa running through it. Quite odd. "Decker to Captain Kirk, I've got that Vulcan you wanted." There was no response, so Decker tried again, still to no avail. He changed the frequency. "Captain Spock, come in Captain Spock."
"Spock here," Spock heard, surprise filling him as he heard himself speak.
"I've got that Vulcan that looks like you on Deck 9. I can bring him to the bridge if you want."
"The bridge is compromised, Commander. I will come to you. Have you been able to reach Captain Kirk?"
"Negative, sir. His signal is jammed."
"Adjust the signal and continue attempts to reach him."
"Captain, if his personal signal is jammed-"
"Damn you sir, you will try," Captain Spock said, and Spock furrowed his eyebrows. This version of himself was both ruthless and worried.
Decker appeared genuinely contrite, muttering a low, "Yes Captain," and attempting to change the signal while keeping his gun trained on Spock.
"It is illogical to adjust the signal," Spock said, mind flitting over the fact that his counterpart would suggest such an illogical action.
"Yeah, we both know that, but it's Captain Kirk, so goodbye logic."
Spock let Decker work, mind fixed on the imminent meeting with his other self. He had thought that meeting an alternate version of himself was a unique event in one's life, but probability itself could not account for repeated singularities.
"Commander, you called both of them Captain. I admit that I fail to understand why you would do so."
Decker quirked his mouth, looking over the communicator at Spock. "They're both captain. We're not your typical space-faring vessel."
If Spock were human, he would have used one of the captain's favorite colorful expressions: No shit, Sherlock.
Track change:
Track A
Jim rose from the captain's chair and turned to face the ring of security guards that were assembled on the bridge.
"Computer," Jim said. "Scan all living organisms aboard the ship. Only identify lifeforms with a heartbeat over 150 beats per minute."
"Scanning," said the computer. "Lifeforms identified. Nine organisms detected."
"Give tracking coordinates," he ordered. While security programmed the information the computer was reeling off, Jim strode over to the science station.
"Lt. Gaila, have you been able to read anything else on that planet?" he asked.
"Our last readings confirm that there is some kind of alien structure on the planet. I don't know if it's that same time portal the Vulcans reported, but it's there. Yet the source of all this energy is coming from miles away from that."
"Is it another kind of source? Those waves of time the Vulcans were tipped off about?"
"There are no structures around it and it's too powerful for us to scan properly. Captain," she said, lowering her voice in confidence. "The Vulcans sent in data from their own scans during this time frame and identified some of the elements. There were high levels of hydrogen and helium. It's emitting gamma ray photons, which are causing a small amount of stellar wind, and that's what's causing the time waves we observed coming from the portal and what's making the atmosphere lock us in and pull us toward the nucleus of the energy source.
"Is it just me, or did it sound like you were describing-"
"A star. A very, very small star, forming on the surface of the planet."
"How in the hell is that scientifically possible?"
"By all estimates, it shouldn't be. It's like someone put it there, or it was already there, which is impossible because at the rate it's expanding, it would have grown into something much, much larger by now."
"Keep trying to read the surface, I want more data. Our Vulcan guests are going to be busy for awhi-"
The ship rocked hard and cut Jim off mid-speech. He hurled sideways, skidding down the bridge and landing on the floor behind the helm control, where he grabbed onto the base of the helm chair to keep himself still. The ship shuddered once more, then went back to a heavy vibration. Lt. Sulu helped Jim to his feet and the crew resumed their stations.
"Security," Jim said. "Your bioscanners will be able to lead you to each Vulcan on board. I want at least three security officers to every Vulcan. Bring them to the brig for questioning. It's unlikely they'll rebel, but if one does, do what you have to."
"Sir," said his head of security. "Does this order apply to the director, as well?"
Jim hesitated. "The Vulcan on our recordings wasn't the director, but I still want all of them apprehended." Jim cut his eyes over to Stiles, who had been infuriatingly smug ever since they'd viewed the security footage of a Vulcan shutting down their engines. He absolutely hated saying this, but there was nothing else he could do. "We can't be certain that one worked alone. Phasers on stun. Lt. Sulu, you have the conn."
Jim entered the turbolift, flanked by Stiles. He stilled Stiles' hand as it reached for the control and Stiles put his hands behind his back, at attention.
"Commander, let us get a few things clear. The only reason I'm bringing you to the questioning is because it's regulation for the first officer to be included in questioning of a high-profile fugitive. While we are there, you are to reserve your objectivity and keep all personal opinions to yourself. I'll be damned if you go in there and start accusing all the Vulcans of treachery."
"With all due respect, Captain," Stiles said, his tone making Jim's jaw tighten, "At least one Vulcan has already been confirmed as a guilty party. The ship's in danger and we're in a war for our lives-"
"A war, Commander? Nothing has been confirmed, despite your insinuations. Just because your ancestors fought in a war with the Romulans a hundred years ago doesn't mean that you are still at war with anyone who happens to have pointy ears."
"No, but I do protest against anyone who's going to cause the death of over 500 crew members, sir," he said, face red with barely-controlled anger.
"I'll handle the majority of the questions. We don't have the time to waste on grudges; we need to focus on figuring out why they shut off the engines and how we resolve this crisis, lives intact." Jim pressed the button for Deck 3, ending the conversation.
"I have your orders, Captain," Stiles muttered, staring at the wall next to him.
Jim watched as the Vulcans were escorted into the brig. Director Spock had been the third Vulcan ushered in, and the blank look on his face had made Jim uneasy until he remembered that was the director's usual expression. None of the nine Vulcans in the research team had to be brought in by force.
Jim-flanked on either side by Stiles and two security officers-identified the Vulcan who'd shut off the engines within a minute of looking at all of them lined up in a cell; the culprit's name was Narak. Jim had Narak separated from the other Vulcans to another section of the cell, under the observation of two security personnel. Jim scrutinized the Vulcans' faces for any sign of guilt, but, of course, there was none. His eyes lingered on the director. Jim refused to believe that he could have been in confidence with Narak; in fact, the whole situation didn't add up-Vulcans had a logical respect for life and were, despite their violent origins, a peaceful people.
"Narak," he began, breaking eye contact with the director to look at the other Vulcan. "You were caught by the ship's security feed shutting down the engines during a crucial moment which sent the Enterprise into this volatile planet's atmosphere, possibly sending us all to our deaths. Since there's no question of your guilt, I only ask why you did it."
Narak simply looked at him.
"You must give testimony, Narak, to your crime," Director Spock said, turning toward his team member. Narak still said nothing.
"Don't speak unless the captain asks you to," Stiles commanded. Spock nodded his head in acceptance, but Jim frowned.
"The director hasn't been charged with a crime himself, so he has every right to respectfully parlay for his team member, Commander," Jim said, brusque. Fucking asshole. He gave Spock a small smile. "I apologize. We're all a little on edge."
"No apologies are necessary. It is clear that the perpetrator of this crime chooses to remain silent on the matter. It is logical for you to keep the entire team here in the brig, as it is uncertain if he acted on his own impetus. I render my own testimony, that I was not aware of Narak's actions, nor do I approve of them. You may question the rest of my team. If we recover from this crisis, my team and I will submit to Starfleet's tribunal on these matters."
"Problem is, we don't have time for all that. You guys figured out what the source of the energy field is, and it's likely that none of us will survive unless we can gain more insight."
"I remind you, Captain, that we can't let the other eight loose on the ship. Even with security on each of them, there's no guarantee they can all can be monitored," Stiles said. "Also, we don't know if that information or any other information collected by their team has been falsified."
"I can assure you that our calculations have not been tampered with and that our data is accurate," Spock said, addressing Jim.
"And we're supposed to trust your word?" Stiles asked.
"Commander," Jim said. "You're needed on the bridge. Relieve Lt. Sulu from the conn and put yourself in charge."
Stiles left, but not before giving both Jim and Spock nasty glares.
"My first officer was right about one thing. We can't let all of you return to duty. I want only Director Spock released, under my command and authority," he said. If he was wrong and they lived through this, Jim could be charged with reckless endangerment, but he didn't have the luxury of following procedure.
"Acknowledged, Captain," Spock said, moving from the group to stand at his side. Jim nodded to the guards, knowing they would know to lock up their prisoners accordingly. He walked swiftly from the brig, Spock trailing behind him.
"I was briefed on the information that was collected, Mr. Spock. Do you have any theories?"
"I do," Spock said. Jim stopped and turned back to give his full attention. "Before the discovery of this phenomenon, my team was involved in a top secret project."
"You're the head of the quantum physics department, so I assume what you were working on had something involving atomic and subatomic materials."
"Indeed."
"Like something that could artificially produce a star?"
"Not precisely. I am certain that you remember the day Vulcan was almost destroyed."
"I'm sure everyone in the quadrant knows my involvement," Jim said. "Captain Pike made me acting captain of the Enterprise and sent a team to disarm the drill. They disarmed it while I beamed aboard the Narada to bring Pike back. We stole a really advanced ship, realized the invading Romulans were from the future, and made it out just before Nero self-destructed his own ship to avoid capture."
"The vessel you recovered, the Jellyfish, was commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy. It was returned to us for analysis. Inside we found the red matter that was to be used to destroy Vulcan. While we knew of its ability to create a black hole, we were unable to discover how the red matter was constructed."
Jim smirked. "I imagine it's hard to put that stuff under a microscope."
"It took us months of careful research to even develop a way to handle the material. We had isolated every property of the red matter and had discovered the final isotope 3.5 standard weeks ago."
"Narak was a part of this project?"
"He was."
"Then it looks like he gave that info to someone else. Imagine a weapon like that in the wrong hands."
"It appears that someone received the information, attempted to synthesize red matter, and launched the red matter into a barren planet as an experiment."
"Which failed, and now we've gotta clean up the mess. I still can't figure out why Narak would turn off the engines when it's obvious that he knew what was happening. Wouldn't he want to get the hell out of here?"
"There is a factor we are overlooking," Spock agreed.
"Hold on, this flooring is different," Jim said, holding out his arm to stop Spock. It wasn't a huge difference, but the floor was solid black and was missing the single silver stripe that ran down the middle of all the floors throughout the Enterprise. He looked up and down the hallway, then walked further along, wary. As he walked, the silver striped faded back, but he ignored that in favor of the watermarks he had seen earlier; they flickered in and out on random walls. As he rounded the last corner, he stilled as he saw people themselves fade in and out, each confused or scared, and it was then he realized what was happening.
The universes were merging completely.
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