FIC: A Commotion In The Firmament - Part 3/5
Part One
Part Two
Back in the quarters they’d been assigned, Jim leaned against a bunk and looked out of the window over acres of green. Suvat’s group had taken themselves off to have serious discussions about things they presumably thought Jim wouldn’t understand, Uhura had expressed an interest in the old-fashioned radio transmitters the Kitharans were using and McCoy had gone to coo over the centre’s medical facilities. Jim found it faintly adorable that all his department heads wanted to do in their free time was look at the same things they did on-duty. Spock would probably have been content to talk science with Director Montague for hours if Jim hadn’t pulled him aside for a conference.
“So if I can just summarise for a moment here: we have Exhibit A, a Vulcan scientist who makes dinosaurs for shit and giggles - yes, I know that phrase makes no logical sense, you told me that last time - and Exhibit B, a Vulcan ambassador currently flipping out over Exhibit A. What I’d dearly love to know is why Suvat’s acting so twitchy down here. Tell me you noticed too,” he added.
“I noticed,” Spock said noncommittally.
“And you’re not going to offer me any theories? Really?”
“I am in no position to speculate on the Ambassador’s personal life.”
“See, now, that’s what gets me suspicious, ‘cause normally you try and pretend Vulcans don’t have a personal life.”
“I merely--”
“I don’t think even Starfleet Command knows exactly what’s going on here.” Jim wrapped his hands round the rungs of the ladder next to him and sighed. “There’s so many things the High Council aren’t telling, it’s not even funny. I managed to get access to the original transmission to the Admiralty - don’t ask how, you’d probably have to put me in the brig for it - and it’s in High Vulcan. High. Fucking. Vulcan. And intended for the eyes of the Commander-in-Chief only. Tell me that’s not weird.”
“It is unusually secretive,” Spock allowed.
“No kidding. Anyway, that was just before we picked up the Ambassador, and what with him breathing down our necks for the rest of the voyage, I didn’t like to bring it up again. And now we’re here and he’s acting so damn twitchy - I didn’t even think Vulcans could do twitchy - and I’m gonna find out what’s going on here if it kills me.”
Spock was looking distinctly uncomfortable by this point. “Captain, I believe you are putting an unnecessarily sinister interpretation on matters.”
Well, fuck. That pretty much blew Jim’s theory (all right, unrealistic hope) that whatever was going on was as much a secret from Spock as it was from him out the water. “The High Council’s deliberately withholding information,” he said flatly. “You’re deliberately withholding information, and I’m pretty sure that’s an offence under the Starfleet Code of Conduct. It you’re putting the rest of the crew in danger, I will bring you up on charges.”
Annoyance flashed across Spock’s face before he could control it. Then he straightened and tucked his arms behind his back in the parade ground stance Jim had learnt to interpret as Spock Going Vulcan. “I am only in defiance of the Code of Conduct if the information pertains directly to the mission. I do not believe mine does.”
“You’re seriously going to play that card? Because I can get Uhura to translate the Council’s message. Sure, it’ll be fun explaining to Starfleet exactly how I know this mission is a piece of crap, but I’m sure I can handle it.” Not to mention his less official source of information on all things Vulcan.
“You would be in violation of no less than four regulations. It would be sufficient for you to be stripped of your captaincy.”
There was no softening of tone, but Spock’s eyes were fixed on Jim’s with the hint of a question: Would you truly risk that?
“They’d have to prove it first, and I know you don’t like to admit it, but I am actually good at what I do. There aren’t any traces.”
“And if the Council’s message contains none of this ‘hidden information’ you hope to find?”
“Then we’ve come in a full circle, and I know you’re going to tell me whatever it is sooner or later because that’s how we work. Just, sooner would be good. Before Suvat actually does lose his shit and we have a proper diplomatic incident on our hands.”
Spock shifted slightly on his feet and seemed to hold himself more stiffly to attention. “It is not a subject lightly spoken of among my people.”
“And I’m not asking you lightly. I’m not a complete asshole, Spock; I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”
Spock gave a barely audible sigh. “I am aware of that, Captain. Very well. While I do not know how, precisely, it relates to the Ambassador’s unusual behaviour, I have enough familiarity with Vulcan cultural practices to know what was left out of the orders you received. It relates to the Vulcan marriage bond, and was therefore considered necessary information in order that Starfleet Command could fully understand what the Kithara Procedure represents.”
He settled his hands behind his back once more and addressed his next remarks to a point on the wall behind Jim, apparently preferring to pretend this was just another report to deliver.
“As you know, Vulcans are a telepathic species and as such, mental compatibility is one of the most important qualities sought in a mate. In our early history, there were therefore very few long-term partnerships as natural compatibility is rare. Later, it was realised that the minds of young children are not as rigidly defined as those of adults and that two such unformed minds, once brought together, would often grow in complementary ways. Following this discovery, it became the practice for families to - the closest Standard term I can find is ‘betroth’ - their children around the age of seven in order that they be assured of a suitable partner later.”
Jim waited for him to continue. When he did not, he said incredulously, “That’s it? The great Vulcan secret is arranged marriages?”
Spock looked frustrated. “It is difficult to fully explain the concept in Standard. The bond is… more complicated than a marriage. In some ways more complete, in others less so. It is cemented during the -” Jim saw the muscles in Spock’s jaw clench. “- In the pon farr and can then only be broken by a trained telepathic adept.”
Jim very much wanted to ask what ‘the pon farr’ was, but other, more interesting bits of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. “And so many Vulcans lost their lives in Nero’s attack, I’m guessing that a lot of these ‘unbreakable’ bonds got severed way before they were meant to. Am I right?”
Spock nodded shortly. “You are. In strongly bonded couples, it is not uncommon for the surviving partner to die shortly after from the pain of the broken bond, and I believe there were several hundred cases among those who survived Vulcan’s destruction.” He spoke dispassionately, but his whole body seemed to tauten with the strain of it.
“Of those left, many are able to continue, despite the loss of their bondmate. However, some are… not. What you must understand is that the process of bonding affects the brain itself, and as Doctor McCoy would no doubt tell you, the brain is a complex organ. There have been…” He paused, searching for the best way to continue. “Incidents in which it appears that Vulcans who lost bondmates are also losing control of their own faculties.”
Jim inhaled sharply. “Shit.”
“It is theorised that it is the effect of such loss across the entire population - the cumulative effect of grief - that is causing this. The Vulcan High Council would have included this information in their missive to Starfleet in order to impress upon them the urgency in realising the Kithara Procedure. Apart from that, I do not believe any offworlder has been informed.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “As a people that prize control above all else, it is not the sort of information any Vulcan would willingly share.”
Which, combined with Spock’s look of almost-shame, made Jim feel just wonderful. Forcing himself to concentrate on the new information, he said slowly, “Do we know if the Ambassador’s bondmate’s still alive? Because that could explain why he’s acting so strangely about the whole thing.”
Spock tilted his head thoughtfully. “I do not. If it were not for the lack of subspace communication in this system, I could find out discreetly through my father. As it is, it seems our only recourse is to ask the Ambassador directly.”
“Or perhaps not directly - maybe one of his aides knows.”
“It is possible,” Spock agreed.
“So.” Jim pushed himself away from the bunk and began to tread invisible circles, a habit that had caused Bones to threaten murder more than once during finals time at the Academy. “I think you’d be able to bring up the subject of bondmates with V’Lir or someone much more easily than me, ‘specially since I’m not even meant to know about them. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to go find Montague, see if she’s shaken us up a committee meeting yet.” He was about to head past Spock and out the door when he hesitated. “How important is it that the Kitharans agree to help?”
“If they do not, there are, at a rough estimate, two thousand Vulcans without bondmates in the new colony. It is fully possible all will begin exhibiting symptoms, given time.”
Jim wasn’t stupid. He knew, without needing to ask, that Spock was wondering the same thing as himself: would the effect be any different with a non-Vulcan bondmate? Sarek had appeared, to Jim’s inexperienced eyes at least, to be the model of Vulcan control, but so, he supposed, had all the others.
And even closer to home, where exactly did Spock fall in all this? Jim didn’t quite dare ask - did his relationship with Uhura mean he was unbonded? Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Vulcans being big on infidelity.
He gave a mental shrug. Spock was still looking as intensely unhappy with himself as Jim had seen in months; it wouldn’t be right to press him further now. Particularly not when Jim’s curiosity was not entirely professional.
~
Spock opened the door to Nyota’s quarters on a spirited three-way argument.
“And I’m telling you, you’re being ridiculous. Jim, I have the guy’s medical records; there’s nothing there to suggest he’s gonna go batshit on us and you can’t go pulling stunts like this on just a hunch.”
“Bones, I know what I’m talking about!”
“Much as it pains me, his hunches are good.”
“Not you too! Am I the only voice of sanity here?”
Spock let the door shut behind him with a soft click. It fell in a lull in the discussion, and Jim immediately jumped to his feet with a somewhat relieved smile.
“Spock agrees with me, Bones.”
“I believe I agreed that your theory was not impossible,” Spock demurred. “Am I to assume that you have shared my information with Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura ?”
“Yes. Um.” Jim gave him an almost worried look, as though he thought this might be taking liberties.
“It is only logical to share whatever we know,” Spock assured him.
“Which is precisely zip at the moment,” McCoy cut in. “Jim says the Ambassador’s lost his bondmate and is gonna go mad with grief or something.”
“An accurate, if crude, summation.” Jim smirked unrepentantly. “The captain has observed certain unusual patterns of behaviour in the Ambassador and has hypothesised that these could be explained by the loss of a bondmate.”
Strange, Spock reflected, to speak so casually of such things, as though he hadn’t done everything in his power to keep the knowledge from Jim just a few hours ago. The others were pretending not to be surprised by the new information - Spock supposed that they would not have needed to pretend if he had ever demonstrated the human propensity for discourse on his private life - but Nyota kept giving him speculative looks.
“I too have observed a deviation from the Vulcan norm in the Ambassador’s behaviour,” he continued. Jim shot him a wounded look and mouthed, You could’ve said. “However, I could not be certain my observations were uninfluenced by what I knew of the situation on Vulcan. The captain provided an unbiased confirmation.”
“Alrighty, so Suvat’s losing it. Question is, what can we do about it? Hit up the High Council? ‘Hiya, fellers, couldn’t help but notice your Ambassador’s batshit insane. Can we swap him for a new one?’ Because I’m sure that’d go down well.”
“Like a lead swimsuit,” Jim agreed.
“Not strictly related, but what about him and T’Kal?” Nyota put in. At their looks of surprise, she sighed. “For Starfleet’s brightest and best, you do have a penchant for missing the blindingly obvious. His body language towards her was all wrong if they were meant to be strangers - too aggressive, too confrontational. You must have noticed?”
“I noticed V’Lir had to practically gag him to stop him saying something, shall we say, undiplomatic.”
“Exactly. He was unreasonably angry by human standards, let alone Vulcan. Don’t you think that’s interesting?”
“Please don’t tell me you think him and T’Kal are secret lovers or something,” Jim said. Nyota dignified him with a look that said Only you could think of something like that. Captain.
Aloud, she said, “I don’t think that’s very likely, but there’s definitely something going on there. And it gives us our best evidence of Suvat’s irrationality.”
“Spock, did you manage to find out whether Suvat’s bonded yet?”
“Negative, Captain. All I have been able to ascertain on the subject is that the Ambassador is extremely reticent on all private matters. None of the ambassadorial staff knew him before they were assigned to this mission and none seems to have discovered anything since meeting him.”
“Regular man of mystery, our Ambassador,” McCoy muttered.
“Dammit.” Jim jumped up from his chair and began to pace a tight circle round the three of them. “So, what do we know?” he asked, more to himself than anyone else.
“Sweet FA at the moment,” McCoy said.
“We know that the Ambassador is exhibiting an unusual lack of emotional restraint for a Vulcan,” Spock noted.
Jim nodded distractedly, continuing to pace. “Acting kind of antsy, yep.”
“Said behaviour forms a rough parallel with that seen in Vulcans who lost bondmates in Nero’s attack. This alone is not enough to make such a loss a definite cause, but is suggestive.”
“But we don’t actually know if Suvat’s lost a bondmate, or even if this is unusual behaviour by his standards. Not every Vulcan has complete emotional control, right?”
“True. However, it is unheard of for one in a position of such importance.”
“Ugh.” Jim kicked at his empty chair. “I wish we could know.”
“If we could get the ship into an orbit further out, the subspace systems wouldn’t be affected by this planet’s energy fields.”
Jim whipped around to face Nyota. “Seriously?”
She shrugged. “We only lost contact with Starfleet Command right before we dropped into standard orbit. Stands to reason that we’d only need to take the Enterprise a little way out to re-establish contact. The only problem I can see is in getting a message from here to the ship; the radio waves the Kitharans are using lose integrity really fast - it’s not that they don’t get through, but they’re so distorted by the time they do that there’s no way to piece a message together from them. I can probably fix that though.”
“Oh yes, this is why I hired you.”
“You didn’t hire me, Captain,” Nyota reminded him with a smile. “I was assigned to the Enterprise.”
Jim waved a hand. “Details, details. So we get a message through to the Enterprise via Uhura’s great powers of awesomeness and then we can finally get some answers.” Spock observed that he looked a lot happier now he had a definite plan of action.
“And what happens then, Jim?” McCoy asked, looking amused at Jim’s enthusiasm.
Jim’s grin slipped a little. “I’m not quite sure. It’s probably our duty to get in contact with the High Council, but it’s not like they can do anything while we’re so far out. I guess we could talk to Suvat’s aides, ask them to keep an eye on him or something?”
“They would require incontrovertible proof before agreeing to such a plan,” Spock pointed out.
“Proof that we’ll hopefully have before we need to worry about asking them. Besides, there’re four of us. I’m fairly sure we can manage to keep track of one guy, make sure he doesn’t do anything crazy.”
“There are four of us and we’re all in this room, Captain. So who’s keeping an eye on the Ambassador now?”
“Crap. I’ll go. You know what you’re doing with the Kitharan comms, yeah? Awesome. Before I forget, the committee convenes tomorrow after breakfast. Suvat’ll be speaking and we’re meant to offer our support, so I guess that means I’ll have to make a speech - Spock, can I pick your brains about that later?”
Before Spock could do much more than open his mouth, Jim beamed at him, said, “Awesome, I’ll come find you,” and crossed to the door in three steps.
McCoy watched him head down the corridor at a run and shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind him coming up with these crazy-ass theories, but it always ends up with yours truly getting roped in. And the worst of it is, he usually turns out to be right, so I guess we can expect Suvat to start showing craziness above and beyond the usual in, ooh, twelve hours?”
~
Jim woke up, looked across to the bunk opposite and swore under his breath. In his haste to get down the ladder, he wound up jumping the last few feet, landing rather harder than he’d intended. Fortunately, the only person disturbed by the noise seemed to be Spock, and since it had been Jim’s intention to wake him anyway…
“I hate to say I told you so,” he whispered, crouching by Spock’s pillow. “But, uh, hell yeah I told you so. Suvat’s gone AWOL.”
Spock looked at him. “That should not be possible; I have not slept precisely in order that I might prevent him from leaving.”
“You were meant to wake me or Bones up,” Jim said.
“Since I did not require sleep, it did not seem logical to do so.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t just nod off for a couple of minutes? Okay, okay, shouldn’t have asked,” he added in response to Spock’s look of reproach. “Damn, that’s one sneaky ambassador.”
“Affirmative. He should not, however, prove impossible to trace. If you feel sufficiently rested, we could set off now.”
“Yeah, just give me a second to…” Jim waved a hand at the rather fetching flannel pyjamas he’d been issued with.
“Of course,” Spock said politely, turning to look at the wall while Jim hastily pulled on his uniform.
“Ready.”
Somehow Jim wasn’t surprised to find that Spock had slept - or at any rate gone to bed - in his uniform.
“There seemed little point in donning nightwear, since I did not intend to sleep,” Spock said.
Jim started - how close did you have to get for the whole touch-telepathy thing to kick in? Then he realised that he’d been staring pretty obviously at Spock - more specifically, at the way Spock’s hair was sticking up at the back from lying on it - and looked away.
“Very logical,” he said.
Spock gave him the eyebrow that meant he thought Jim was messing with him. Jim pretended not to notice.
“Think we’ll need these?” he asked, reaching under his pillow for his phaser and the little radio he was using in lieu of a communicator.
“They weigh little and it would be better to be over-prepared than under.”
“Best Boy Scout ever,” Jim mumbled to himself. Spock looked at him oddly, but didn’t ask.
The residential corridor stretched silently away on either side. A couple of doors down was the room where Uhura was staying with V’Lir and the other female Vulcan, whose name Jim thought was something like T’Mara. For a moment, he contemplated waking her. But no, the more of them there were, the more noise they’d make. Besides (and this was something he was only ever going to admit in the privacy of his head), he rather liked the idea of him and Spock sneaking around together while everyone else was asleep.
“Which way?” he asked softly.
“There is a door to the rest of the habitat dome at the end of the corridor,” Spock replied, pointing.
Once outside, Jim could see the faintest threads of sunrise through the dome, though its interior remained shrouded in darkness. Obviously Suvat had only just left: a string of motion-sensitive lights still illuminated one of the paths, heading towards the main research facilities.
“T’Kal?”
“So it would seem,” Spock murmured.
They set off side by side, moving as casually as possible down the path after Suvat.
“If anyone asks, we can be having a secret moonlit tryst,” Jim said, shooting a sideways look at Spock.
“Or simply taking advantage of our current situation to experience natural night as opposed to that on the ship.”
“Secret moonlit trysts are more fun,” Jim argued.
“Some day you must ask the Federation to update its dictionaries to include this new definition of ‘fun’.”
“Maybe I will and then you’ll be sorry.”
Spock raising his eyebrow, Jim couldn’t help noticing, made the moonlight shift in interesting patterns on his face. He looked quickly back at the path ahead. Moonlight and madness only went together in fairy tales.
The door to the connecting tunnel between the domes was locked, presumably on some sort of automatic switch. Jim frowned thoughtfully at the control pad.
“I believe I may be of some assistance here,” Spock said.
Jim gaped at him. “No way. You know how to pick locks?”
“Not precisely. This model is one I improved upon back at the Academy. Naturally, I had to learn the methods employed by criminals to open such locks before I could devise effective countermeasures.”
“Naturally,” Jim said, stepping aside to allow Spock better access to the lock. Really, he thought, a broad grin threatening to break out on his face, would he ever find out the full extent of his first officer’s talents? And it was definitely necessary to remind himself that Spock was his XO - the look of intense concentration on Spock’s face as he traced his fingers over the control pad was sending Jim’s brain to all sorts of places he’d been fighting (not entirely successfully) to keep it away from for at least the last month. Moonlight and madness, he told himself firmly, do not apply to me.
All in all, it was something of a relief when the door swung open and Spock stepped inside without looking back at Jim.
A surprising number of the labs were occupied. Jim discovered this when he opened a door he’d thought led to another corridor to find two women scribbling furiously on separate whiteboards, each trying to drown out the other’s attempt to demonstrate a superior solution. They were having too much fun to notice Jim as he retreated and shut the door silently behind him.
“This place is ridiculously big,” he told Spock, catching up with him at a junction where five corridors branched off.
“Thank you for that astute observation, Captain,” Spock said snippily. “Excuse me,” he added. “I am simply having more trouble than I anticipated in retracing the route to T’Kal lab.”
“You’re doing better than me - I thought we must’ve come in a different door or something, ‘cause I haven’t recognised a thing since we got here.”
“My sense of direction is more developed than in most humans and my powers of recall have been trained from a young age. I should have no difficulty.” There was something close to frustration in his voice.
Jim kept quiet, unwilling to distract him. After a few more seconds, though, Spock seemed to reach a decision and turned down the far right corridor. They took a left, then another, and Jim began to experience a creeping sense of familiarity. He glanced at the nameplates on the doors they were hurrying past: Thapar, Hendrikson, Freeman. Then - Conway. Which meant T’Kal’s lab was next.
He stopped outside Conway’s door. It was all very well planning to tail Suvat here, but none of the doors had windows in them - without opening the door, they had no way of knowing if Suvat and T’Kal were even in the lab. Spock stopped slightly ahead and looked back at him curiously. In a clumsy mix of mime and what little Standard sign language he could remember from the Academy, Jim explained.
With rather more fluency than Jim, Spock signed back that they could at least ascertain whether or not the Ambassador and T’Kal were close to the door, simply by listening through it.
Of course, Jim reflected after nearly a minute of dead silence, if the doors were soundproofed, this wasn’t going to work. It didn’t help that he kept tuning in on Spock’s breathing, rather than any noise from beyond the door.
When Spock tapped his arm, Jim started.
I cannot hear anything, Spock signed.
Jim mimed pushing the door ajar to sneak a peek inside. Spock nodded. The door wasn’t locked and they managed to get inside with barely a rustle of fabric audible. The faint breeze carried the distant murmur of conversation to them. Jim did his best to mime Ahah! and moved towards the border where the neatly clipped lawn met the taller grass.
Too noisy to go through.
But the grass does not extend too far. It might be possible to see over. Spock’s hand gestures were losing coherency as he hurried to explain his idea, and Jim had to wave wildly to get him to slow down.
Why? Don’t need to see, need to hear.
Spock dug in a pocket and produced a gleaming bit of metal about a centimetre across. Jim’s eyes widened. Where did you get that?
Spock twiddled a finger by his ear in a way Jim could only interpret as crazy.
Don’t understand.
U-H-U-
Jim mimed a thunderbolt of realisation. Now he knew what Spock’s finger-twiddling was meant to represent, it did look quite a lot like the way Uhura played with her earpiece.
How did Uhura get one?
I did not ask.
Fair enough, Jim supposed. Spock had to know the listening device wasn’t quite legal, but he’d gotten a lot better at pretending not to notice the less-than-model behaviour of Jim’s crew whenever it benefited the ship.
I need to see where they are to direct the thingy.
Well, Spock probably hadn’t said ‘thingy’, but Jim had never learnt exactly what the device was called, so ‘thingy’ it would have to be. He nodded.
You’re taller than me, you can see if I… He mimed giving Spock a boost.
On reflection, that probably hadn’t been his brightest idea. Spock was heavy. And also sort of climbing all over Jim in his efforts to see over the grass, which Jim considered unfairly distracting. He hoped his breathing wasn’t as loud as it seemed to him, or they could kiss goodbye to getting away with this.
And seriously, how long was Spock taking? Jim had taken jaunts across the quadrant in less time. He ignored his burning muscles and shifted him a little higher. Finally, finally, Spock jumped down. Jim offered him a tentative thumbs-up. Spock returned the gesture more emphatically, which was just a little surreal, although actually, watching Spock mime things in general was more than a little bit weird. Not to mention hilarious.
With rapid movements, Spock keyed in directions for the thingy, which sprouted spindly little legs and skittered away through the grass. The remote control obviously acted as the receiver too, because Spock attached a pair of headphones and began redirecting the bug to get a better sound. His usual blank expression was lost to momentary surprise. Jim held out a hand for the other headphone.
Well, that was… interesting. Slightly indistinct, but unmistakable, the sound of sobbing came through the wires. It had to be T’Kal, because a moment later, Suvat’s voice said, “I grieve with thee.”
The sobbing stopped abruptly. Jim glanced at Spock, who’d gone very still, eyes deliberately avoiding any contact.
“Your sympathy is unwarranted and unnecessary,” T’Kal snapped. “My grief is my own and I did not desire to share it with anyone until you forced your way into my laboratory. The memory of Soral does not excuse that.”
There was a moment’s silence, then, “Forgive me; I acted not out of memory for the past, but out of hope for the future.”
“You speak in riddles, Suvat, and it is tiresome. Did they teach you to talk in circles when you became an ambassador?” She spoke with magnificent scorn, and Jim couldn’t help grinning.
“I did not intend to speak anything other than plain fact, which is that I came to you, not because of Soral, but because I believe you to be invaluable in building the future of our people.”
“I? A scientist whose work has driven her beyond Federation law? Invaluable to our future? You are surely mistaken.”
“I confess I did not realise it at first - that you have allied yourself with these gene-splicers and purveyors of monsters is intolerable - but you can still be of use to our people, you need not shut yourself away in this outpost of butchers and criminals.”
Even without seeing T’Kal’s face, Jim could guess that hadn’t gone over well.
“The work done here is no less valuable than that of the fabled Vulcan Science Academy, Suvat. If you cannot see that, I suggest you leave now.”
“But the so-called ‘Kithara Procedure’ - it is an outrage against everything Vulcans believe, an outrage against Soral’s memory. Can you not see that?”
“Your argument is based merely on emotion and therefore has no merit,” T’Kal replied coldly.
“You speak to me of emotion, you whom I found weeping for the loss of her bondmate?” Suvat’s voice had gone taut with anger.
“My lapse of control - alone, until you interrupted - is not as inexcusable as yours. Leave me now and we shall not speak of this.”
“You will help me!”
“I will not,” T’Kal said calmly.
There was a scuffle and a grunt of pain, then a high, desperate, wordless scream that Jim could hear even without the listening device. Without pausing to think, he set off at a sprint towards the long grass, phaser drawn. Spock overtook him before he reached it and plunged into the grass like he was swimming in it.
Jim had an easier time of it, following the path Spock had beaten down, until they reached the path they had followed with Director Montague. Maybe ten seconds later, they reached open ground, to see Suvat with his back to them, crouched over the limp form of T’Kal, fingers clamped to her face.
Even if Jim had never seen a forced mind-meld before, there was a palpable sense of violation in the scene. His phaser shot reached Suvat’s back microseconds ahead of Spock’s.
They dragged the Ambassador aside. T’Kal’s whole body had gone rigid, her eyes wide and staring.
“She is in a state of fugue - her mind has retreated in the face of Suvat’s attack,” Spock explained as Jim felt for a pulse. “I would not do this without permission, but there seems little choice.”
Jim watched in helpless fascination as Spock’s fingers moved gently over T’Kal’s face. There was deathly quiet. Spock’s breathing became so shallow, Jim could barely hear it, and T’Kal’s seemed to cease altogether. Jim found himself holding his own breath in sympathy.
The minutes slid by with painful slowness. Spock was risking God knew what, chasing after a fleeing mind, and Jim could do nothing to help and he hated it. He moved over to where Suvat lay. As far as he could recall, multiple phaser shots had no worse side effects than a single one, aside from possibly burning the skin on contact. Frankly, he wasn’t too bothered about Suvat’s long-term health, but it was going to be hard enough explaining how he and Spock had known to come to T’Kal’s aid without also having to account for the death of a Federation ambassador. God, what a mess.
He used some strips from the Ambassador’s robe to tie his hands, not even knowing if it would hold against Vulcan strength, not even sure when Suvat was going to start coming round.
Spock still hadn’t moved, but Jim thought his face looked more drawn than before. He wondered if it was possible to break a meld, whether that would do more damage than leaving Spock in it for hours on end. More than anything, he wished he’d brought Uhura or Bones with him. Either of them probably knew three times more about Vulcans than Jim did. Perhaps he should radio one of them? Or both. It’d bring the whole facility down on them, but as far as he could see, they weren’t getting out of this one without some creative explaining anyway.
Five minutes passed and Jim was beginning to get distinctly jumpy. He wasn’t much good at waiting quietly at the best of times and with Spock possibly-maybe losing his mind a foot away, this definitely didn’t qualify as one of those. Fuck it. He reached for his radio.
“Bones? Bones?” No response. He tried again a little louder. Then, abandoning any shred of subtlety: “Leonard McCoy, get your ass down here now.”
“I hate you so much right now, Jim.” Bones’s voice was sleep-blurred and grumpy. No surprises there.
“Sorry, Bones, no time. We’re in T’Kal’s lab - don’t really want to say more on an open channel, but I think I’m gonna be needing your medical expertise.” Jim was kind of proud of how level he’d kept his voice through that. “Bring Uhura too. And, uh, if you can avoid waking anyone else, that’d be great.”
“Bit late for that, Jim. So do I try and shake ‘em off or what?”
Jim sighed. Why bother? “Nah, knowing my luck it’ll be galaxy-wide by lunchtime so they may as well see what’s happening for themselves.”
Bones sighed too. “On my way. McCoy out.”
Bones’s progress through the labs was rather quicker and noisier than Jim and Spock’s had been. His eyes took in the unconscious forms of Suvat and T’Kal, and Spock, still kneeling by T’Kal’s head, before glaring at Jim in exasperation.
“I really do hate you sometimes.”
Uhura took one look at the scene, pursed her lips and stalked back into the grass, just as Skor, V’Lir and T’Mara emerged from it.
“How long has he been like this?” T’Mara asked in a business-like way, nodding at Spock.
“Nearly twenty minutes.”
She drew in a breath. “That is not encouraging. The longer a mind spends divorced from its body, the harder it is for it to return.”
Jim looked at the ground. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Only what he is currently doing for T’Kal.”
“And would you end up like…?”
“It is possible. I for one would be prepared to risk it.”
“As would I,” Skor added.
“The benefits of bringing two minds back outweigh the dangers of losing one more,” V’Lir agreed.
“Additionally, if two or indeed all three of us attempt it while in contact with each other’s minds, the chances of our own becoming lost decrease dramatically. We will do it.”
Bones laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “C’mon, doesn’t sound like we’ll be much help. Damned Vulcan voodoo,” he added almost reflexively.
Jim allowed Bones to lead him to one side. “Where did Uhura go?”
“Gone to find the Director and get Security to take care of Suvat. Though frankly, I reckon she was pissed off enough to handle him on her own, Vulcan or no. You don’t mess with Spock under Uhura’s watch.”
Jim glanced over to where the three Vulcan diplomats were clustered round Spock and T’Kal. “Was my crew always this badass, or is it my influence?”
Bones snorted, shifting casually to block his view. “You wish. And speaking of Uhura, you got back too late from stalking Suvat for me to tell you, but she managed to get a message through to the Enterprise and they passed it on to New Vulcan, so we’re supposed to get a response today.”
“That’s… good. Although I’m not so sure we need the proof of Suvat’s crazy anymore.”
“You kidding? Until T’Kal’s in a fit state to testify, all anyone has to say is that you two knocked out Suvat and tried to force a meld with T’Kal to further your Evil Plan. Which I’m not sure what that could be, but that won’t stop ‘em saying it.”
“Fuck.”
Then again, if T’Kal didn’t pull through, that meant they’d have lost Spock too and if that happened, Jim wasn’t sure he cared about whatever disciplinary charges ‘Fleet Command brought him up on.
Bones seemed to know what he was thinking. “They’ll make it, Jim. Those Vulcans are crazy-stubborn, and you think Spock won’t be fighting to get back? They’ll make it.”
At some point, Uhura arrived with half a dozen security guards in tow. They carried Suvat away and seemed to want to take Jim too, but she glared them into a hasty retreat.
“Reckless idiot,” she said fondly, sitting down next to Jim. “Of course he jumps straight in with something most Vulcans get years of training for.”
“But you think he’ll be okay?” Jim asked.
She looked at him. “I do. His mind is stronger than any Vulcan I’ve ever met - it’s had to be to counterbalance his human half. I’d say that’s a pretty good start.”
“That’s… that’s actually good to hear,” he acknowledged.
She smiled. “And when they bring him out of the meld, you can bet I’ll be having words with him.”
Jim had to laugh. “You and me both,” he told her.
“It’ll be okay,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. Jim looked at her in surprise; he’d never thought she was particularly fond of needless physical contact, another reason she and Spock got on so well. “It’ll be okay,” she repeated, and Jim thought that maybe the contact was something they both needed.
Part Four
For warnings and other info, see Part One.
Part Two
Back in the quarters they’d been assigned, Jim leaned against a bunk and looked out of the window over acres of green. Suvat’s group had taken themselves off to have serious discussions about things they presumably thought Jim wouldn’t understand, Uhura had expressed an interest in the old-fashioned radio transmitters the Kitharans were using and McCoy had gone to coo over the centre’s medical facilities. Jim found it faintly adorable that all his department heads wanted to do in their free time was look at the same things they did on-duty. Spock would probably have been content to talk science with Director Montague for hours if Jim hadn’t pulled him aside for a conference.
“So if I can just summarise for a moment here: we have Exhibit A, a Vulcan scientist who makes dinosaurs for shit and giggles - yes, I know that phrase makes no logical sense, you told me that last time - and Exhibit B, a Vulcan ambassador currently flipping out over Exhibit A. What I’d dearly love to know is why Suvat’s acting so twitchy down here. Tell me you noticed too,” he added.
“I noticed,” Spock said noncommittally.
“And you’re not going to offer me any theories? Really?”
“I am in no position to speculate on the Ambassador’s personal life.”
“See, now, that’s what gets me suspicious, ‘cause normally you try and pretend Vulcans don’t have a personal life.”
“I merely--”
“I don’t think even Starfleet Command knows exactly what’s going on here.” Jim wrapped his hands round the rungs of the ladder next to him and sighed. “There’s so many things the High Council aren’t telling, it’s not even funny. I managed to get access to the original transmission to the Admiralty - don’t ask how, you’d probably have to put me in the brig for it - and it’s in High Vulcan. High. Fucking. Vulcan. And intended for the eyes of the Commander-in-Chief only. Tell me that’s not weird.”
“It is unusually secretive,” Spock allowed.
“No kidding. Anyway, that was just before we picked up the Ambassador, and what with him breathing down our necks for the rest of the voyage, I didn’t like to bring it up again. And now we’re here and he’s acting so damn twitchy - I didn’t even think Vulcans could do twitchy - and I’m gonna find out what’s going on here if it kills me.”
Spock was looking distinctly uncomfortable by this point. “Captain, I believe you are putting an unnecessarily sinister interpretation on matters.”
Well, fuck. That pretty much blew Jim’s theory (all right, unrealistic hope) that whatever was going on was as much a secret from Spock as it was from him out the water. “The High Council’s deliberately withholding information,” he said flatly. “You’re deliberately withholding information, and I’m pretty sure that’s an offence under the Starfleet Code of Conduct. It you’re putting the rest of the crew in danger, I will bring you up on charges.”
Annoyance flashed across Spock’s face before he could control it. Then he straightened and tucked his arms behind his back in the parade ground stance Jim had learnt to interpret as Spock Going Vulcan. “I am only in defiance of the Code of Conduct if the information pertains directly to the mission. I do not believe mine does.”
“You’re seriously going to play that card? Because I can get Uhura to translate the Council’s message. Sure, it’ll be fun explaining to Starfleet exactly how I know this mission is a piece of crap, but I’m sure I can handle it.” Not to mention his less official source of information on all things Vulcan.
“You would be in violation of no less than four regulations. It would be sufficient for you to be stripped of your captaincy.”
There was no softening of tone, but Spock’s eyes were fixed on Jim’s with the hint of a question: Would you truly risk that?
“They’d have to prove it first, and I know you don’t like to admit it, but I am actually good at what I do. There aren’t any traces.”
“And if the Council’s message contains none of this ‘hidden information’ you hope to find?”
“Then we’ve come in a full circle, and I know you’re going to tell me whatever it is sooner or later because that’s how we work. Just, sooner would be good. Before Suvat actually does lose his shit and we have a proper diplomatic incident on our hands.”
Spock shifted slightly on his feet and seemed to hold himself more stiffly to attention. “It is not a subject lightly spoken of among my people.”
“And I’m not asking you lightly. I’m not a complete asshole, Spock; I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”
Spock gave a barely audible sigh. “I am aware of that, Captain. Very well. While I do not know how, precisely, it relates to the Ambassador’s unusual behaviour, I have enough familiarity with Vulcan cultural practices to know what was left out of the orders you received. It relates to the Vulcan marriage bond, and was therefore considered necessary information in order that Starfleet Command could fully understand what the Kithara Procedure represents.”
He settled his hands behind his back once more and addressed his next remarks to a point on the wall behind Jim, apparently preferring to pretend this was just another report to deliver.
“As you know, Vulcans are a telepathic species and as such, mental compatibility is one of the most important qualities sought in a mate. In our early history, there were therefore very few long-term partnerships as natural compatibility is rare. Later, it was realised that the minds of young children are not as rigidly defined as those of adults and that two such unformed minds, once brought together, would often grow in complementary ways. Following this discovery, it became the practice for families to - the closest Standard term I can find is ‘betroth’ - their children around the age of seven in order that they be assured of a suitable partner later.”
Jim waited for him to continue. When he did not, he said incredulously, “That’s it? The great Vulcan secret is arranged marriages?”
Spock looked frustrated. “It is difficult to fully explain the concept in Standard. The bond is… more complicated than a marriage. In some ways more complete, in others less so. It is cemented during the -” Jim saw the muscles in Spock’s jaw clench. “- In the pon farr and can then only be broken by a trained telepathic adept.”
Jim very much wanted to ask what ‘the pon farr’ was, but other, more interesting bits of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. “And so many Vulcans lost their lives in Nero’s attack, I’m guessing that a lot of these ‘unbreakable’ bonds got severed way before they were meant to. Am I right?”
Spock nodded shortly. “You are. In strongly bonded couples, it is not uncommon for the surviving partner to die shortly after from the pain of the broken bond, and I believe there were several hundred cases among those who survived Vulcan’s destruction.” He spoke dispassionately, but his whole body seemed to tauten with the strain of it.
“Of those left, many are able to continue, despite the loss of their bondmate. However, some are… not. What you must understand is that the process of bonding affects the brain itself, and as Doctor McCoy would no doubt tell you, the brain is a complex organ. There have been…” He paused, searching for the best way to continue. “Incidents in which it appears that Vulcans who lost bondmates are also losing control of their own faculties.”
Jim inhaled sharply. “Shit.”
“It is theorised that it is the effect of such loss across the entire population - the cumulative effect of grief - that is causing this. The Vulcan High Council would have included this information in their missive to Starfleet in order to impress upon them the urgency in realising the Kithara Procedure. Apart from that, I do not believe any offworlder has been informed.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “As a people that prize control above all else, it is not the sort of information any Vulcan would willingly share.”
Which, combined with Spock’s look of almost-shame, made Jim feel just wonderful. Forcing himself to concentrate on the new information, he said slowly, “Do we know if the Ambassador’s bondmate’s still alive? Because that could explain why he’s acting so strangely about the whole thing.”
Spock tilted his head thoughtfully. “I do not. If it were not for the lack of subspace communication in this system, I could find out discreetly through my father. As it is, it seems our only recourse is to ask the Ambassador directly.”
“Or perhaps not directly - maybe one of his aides knows.”
“It is possible,” Spock agreed.
“So.” Jim pushed himself away from the bunk and began to tread invisible circles, a habit that had caused Bones to threaten murder more than once during finals time at the Academy. “I think you’d be able to bring up the subject of bondmates with V’Lir or someone much more easily than me, ‘specially since I’m not even meant to know about them. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to go find Montague, see if she’s shaken us up a committee meeting yet.” He was about to head past Spock and out the door when he hesitated. “How important is it that the Kitharans agree to help?”
“If they do not, there are, at a rough estimate, two thousand Vulcans without bondmates in the new colony. It is fully possible all will begin exhibiting symptoms, given time.”
Jim wasn’t stupid. He knew, without needing to ask, that Spock was wondering the same thing as himself: would the effect be any different with a non-Vulcan bondmate? Sarek had appeared, to Jim’s inexperienced eyes at least, to be the model of Vulcan control, but so, he supposed, had all the others.
And even closer to home, where exactly did Spock fall in all this? Jim didn’t quite dare ask - did his relationship with Uhura mean he was unbonded? Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Vulcans being big on infidelity.
He gave a mental shrug. Spock was still looking as intensely unhappy with himself as Jim had seen in months; it wouldn’t be right to press him further now. Particularly not when Jim’s curiosity was not entirely professional.
~
Spock opened the door to Nyota’s quarters on a spirited three-way argument.
“And I’m telling you, you’re being ridiculous. Jim, I have the guy’s medical records; there’s nothing there to suggest he’s gonna go batshit on us and you can’t go pulling stunts like this on just a hunch.”
“Bones, I know what I’m talking about!”
“Much as it pains me, his hunches are good.”
“Not you too! Am I the only voice of sanity here?”
Spock let the door shut behind him with a soft click. It fell in a lull in the discussion, and Jim immediately jumped to his feet with a somewhat relieved smile.
“Spock agrees with me, Bones.”
“I believe I agreed that your theory was not impossible,” Spock demurred. “Am I to assume that you have shared my information with Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura ?”
“Yes. Um.” Jim gave him an almost worried look, as though he thought this might be taking liberties.
“It is only logical to share whatever we know,” Spock assured him.
“Which is precisely zip at the moment,” McCoy cut in. “Jim says the Ambassador’s lost his bondmate and is gonna go mad with grief or something.”
“An accurate, if crude, summation.” Jim smirked unrepentantly. “The captain has observed certain unusual patterns of behaviour in the Ambassador and has hypothesised that these could be explained by the loss of a bondmate.”
Strange, Spock reflected, to speak so casually of such things, as though he hadn’t done everything in his power to keep the knowledge from Jim just a few hours ago. The others were pretending not to be surprised by the new information - Spock supposed that they would not have needed to pretend if he had ever demonstrated the human propensity for discourse on his private life - but Nyota kept giving him speculative looks.
“I too have observed a deviation from the Vulcan norm in the Ambassador’s behaviour,” he continued. Jim shot him a wounded look and mouthed, You could’ve said. “However, I could not be certain my observations were uninfluenced by what I knew of the situation on Vulcan. The captain provided an unbiased confirmation.”
“Alrighty, so Suvat’s losing it. Question is, what can we do about it? Hit up the High Council? ‘Hiya, fellers, couldn’t help but notice your Ambassador’s batshit insane. Can we swap him for a new one?’ Because I’m sure that’d go down well.”
“Like a lead swimsuit,” Jim agreed.
“Not strictly related, but what about him and T’Kal?” Nyota put in. At their looks of surprise, she sighed. “For Starfleet’s brightest and best, you do have a penchant for missing the blindingly obvious. His body language towards her was all wrong if they were meant to be strangers - too aggressive, too confrontational. You must have noticed?”
“I noticed V’Lir had to practically gag him to stop him saying something, shall we say, undiplomatic.”
“Exactly. He was unreasonably angry by human standards, let alone Vulcan. Don’t you think that’s interesting?”
“Please don’t tell me you think him and T’Kal are secret lovers or something,” Jim said. Nyota dignified him with a look that said Only you could think of something like that. Captain.
Aloud, she said, “I don’t think that’s very likely, but there’s definitely something going on there. And it gives us our best evidence of Suvat’s irrationality.”
“Spock, did you manage to find out whether Suvat’s bonded yet?”
“Negative, Captain. All I have been able to ascertain on the subject is that the Ambassador is extremely reticent on all private matters. None of the ambassadorial staff knew him before they were assigned to this mission and none seems to have discovered anything since meeting him.”
“Regular man of mystery, our Ambassador,” McCoy muttered.
“Dammit.” Jim jumped up from his chair and began to pace a tight circle round the three of them. “So, what do we know?” he asked, more to himself than anyone else.
“Sweet FA at the moment,” McCoy said.
“We know that the Ambassador is exhibiting an unusual lack of emotional restraint for a Vulcan,” Spock noted.
Jim nodded distractedly, continuing to pace. “Acting kind of antsy, yep.”
“Said behaviour forms a rough parallel with that seen in Vulcans who lost bondmates in Nero’s attack. This alone is not enough to make such a loss a definite cause, but is suggestive.”
“But we don’t actually know if Suvat’s lost a bondmate, or even if this is unusual behaviour by his standards. Not every Vulcan has complete emotional control, right?”
“True. However, it is unheard of for one in a position of such importance.”
“Ugh.” Jim kicked at his empty chair. “I wish we could know.”
“If we could get the ship into an orbit further out, the subspace systems wouldn’t be affected by this planet’s energy fields.”
Jim whipped around to face Nyota. “Seriously?”
She shrugged. “We only lost contact with Starfleet Command right before we dropped into standard orbit. Stands to reason that we’d only need to take the Enterprise a little way out to re-establish contact. The only problem I can see is in getting a message from here to the ship; the radio waves the Kitharans are using lose integrity really fast - it’s not that they don’t get through, but they’re so distorted by the time they do that there’s no way to piece a message together from them. I can probably fix that though.”
“Oh yes, this is why I hired you.”
“You didn’t hire me, Captain,” Nyota reminded him with a smile. “I was assigned to the Enterprise.”
Jim waved a hand. “Details, details. So we get a message through to the Enterprise via Uhura’s great powers of awesomeness and then we can finally get some answers.” Spock observed that he looked a lot happier now he had a definite plan of action.
“And what happens then, Jim?” McCoy asked, looking amused at Jim’s enthusiasm.
Jim’s grin slipped a little. “I’m not quite sure. It’s probably our duty to get in contact with the High Council, but it’s not like they can do anything while we’re so far out. I guess we could talk to Suvat’s aides, ask them to keep an eye on him or something?”
“They would require incontrovertible proof before agreeing to such a plan,” Spock pointed out.
“Proof that we’ll hopefully have before we need to worry about asking them. Besides, there’re four of us. I’m fairly sure we can manage to keep track of one guy, make sure he doesn’t do anything crazy.”
“There are four of us and we’re all in this room, Captain. So who’s keeping an eye on the Ambassador now?”
“Crap. I’ll go. You know what you’re doing with the Kitharan comms, yeah? Awesome. Before I forget, the committee convenes tomorrow after breakfast. Suvat’ll be speaking and we’re meant to offer our support, so I guess that means I’ll have to make a speech - Spock, can I pick your brains about that later?”
Before Spock could do much more than open his mouth, Jim beamed at him, said, “Awesome, I’ll come find you,” and crossed to the door in three steps.
McCoy watched him head down the corridor at a run and shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind him coming up with these crazy-ass theories, but it always ends up with yours truly getting roped in. And the worst of it is, he usually turns out to be right, so I guess we can expect Suvat to start showing craziness above and beyond the usual in, ooh, twelve hours?”
~
Jim woke up, looked across to the bunk opposite and swore under his breath. In his haste to get down the ladder, he wound up jumping the last few feet, landing rather harder than he’d intended. Fortunately, the only person disturbed by the noise seemed to be Spock, and since it had been Jim’s intention to wake him anyway…
“I hate to say I told you so,” he whispered, crouching by Spock’s pillow. “But, uh, hell yeah I told you so. Suvat’s gone AWOL.”
Spock looked at him. “That should not be possible; I have not slept precisely in order that I might prevent him from leaving.”
“You were meant to wake me or Bones up,” Jim said.
“Since I did not require sleep, it did not seem logical to do so.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t just nod off for a couple of minutes? Okay, okay, shouldn’t have asked,” he added in response to Spock’s look of reproach. “Damn, that’s one sneaky ambassador.”
“Affirmative. He should not, however, prove impossible to trace. If you feel sufficiently rested, we could set off now.”
“Yeah, just give me a second to…” Jim waved a hand at the rather fetching flannel pyjamas he’d been issued with.
“Of course,” Spock said politely, turning to look at the wall while Jim hastily pulled on his uniform.
“Ready.”
Somehow Jim wasn’t surprised to find that Spock had slept - or at any rate gone to bed - in his uniform.
“There seemed little point in donning nightwear, since I did not intend to sleep,” Spock said.
Jim started - how close did you have to get for the whole touch-telepathy thing to kick in? Then he realised that he’d been staring pretty obviously at Spock - more specifically, at the way Spock’s hair was sticking up at the back from lying on it - and looked away.
“Very logical,” he said.
Spock gave him the eyebrow that meant he thought Jim was messing with him. Jim pretended not to notice.
“Think we’ll need these?” he asked, reaching under his pillow for his phaser and the little radio he was using in lieu of a communicator.
“They weigh little and it would be better to be over-prepared than under.”
“Best Boy Scout ever,” Jim mumbled to himself. Spock looked at him oddly, but didn’t ask.
The residential corridor stretched silently away on either side. A couple of doors down was the room where Uhura was staying with V’Lir and the other female Vulcan, whose name Jim thought was something like T’Mara. For a moment, he contemplated waking her. But no, the more of them there were, the more noise they’d make. Besides (and this was something he was only ever going to admit in the privacy of his head), he rather liked the idea of him and Spock sneaking around together while everyone else was asleep.
“Which way?” he asked softly.
“There is a door to the rest of the habitat dome at the end of the corridor,” Spock replied, pointing.
Once outside, Jim could see the faintest threads of sunrise through the dome, though its interior remained shrouded in darkness. Obviously Suvat had only just left: a string of motion-sensitive lights still illuminated one of the paths, heading towards the main research facilities.
“T’Kal?”
“So it would seem,” Spock murmured.
They set off side by side, moving as casually as possible down the path after Suvat.
“If anyone asks, we can be having a secret moonlit tryst,” Jim said, shooting a sideways look at Spock.
“Or simply taking advantage of our current situation to experience natural night as opposed to that on the ship.”
“Secret moonlit trysts are more fun,” Jim argued.
“Some day you must ask the Federation to update its dictionaries to include this new definition of ‘fun’.”
“Maybe I will and then you’ll be sorry.”
Spock raising his eyebrow, Jim couldn’t help noticing, made the moonlight shift in interesting patterns on his face. He looked quickly back at the path ahead. Moonlight and madness only went together in fairy tales.
The door to the connecting tunnel between the domes was locked, presumably on some sort of automatic switch. Jim frowned thoughtfully at the control pad.
“I believe I may be of some assistance here,” Spock said.
Jim gaped at him. “No way. You know how to pick locks?”
“Not precisely. This model is one I improved upon back at the Academy. Naturally, I had to learn the methods employed by criminals to open such locks before I could devise effective countermeasures.”
“Naturally,” Jim said, stepping aside to allow Spock better access to the lock. Really, he thought, a broad grin threatening to break out on his face, would he ever find out the full extent of his first officer’s talents? And it was definitely necessary to remind himself that Spock was his XO - the look of intense concentration on Spock’s face as he traced his fingers over the control pad was sending Jim’s brain to all sorts of places he’d been fighting (not entirely successfully) to keep it away from for at least the last month. Moonlight and madness, he told himself firmly, do not apply to me.
All in all, it was something of a relief when the door swung open and Spock stepped inside without looking back at Jim.
A surprising number of the labs were occupied. Jim discovered this when he opened a door he’d thought led to another corridor to find two women scribbling furiously on separate whiteboards, each trying to drown out the other’s attempt to demonstrate a superior solution. They were having too much fun to notice Jim as he retreated and shut the door silently behind him.
“This place is ridiculously big,” he told Spock, catching up with him at a junction where five corridors branched off.
“Thank you for that astute observation, Captain,” Spock said snippily. “Excuse me,” he added. “I am simply having more trouble than I anticipated in retracing the route to T’Kal lab.”
“You’re doing better than me - I thought we must’ve come in a different door or something, ‘cause I haven’t recognised a thing since we got here.”
“My sense of direction is more developed than in most humans and my powers of recall have been trained from a young age. I should have no difficulty.” There was something close to frustration in his voice.
Jim kept quiet, unwilling to distract him. After a few more seconds, though, Spock seemed to reach a decision and turned down the far right corridor. They took a left, then another, and Jim began to experience a creeping sense of familiarity. He glanced at the nameplates on the doors they were hurrying past: Thapar, Hendrikson, Freeman. Then - Conway. Which meant T’Kal’s lab was next.
He stopped outside Conway’s door. It was all very well planning to tail Suvat here, but none of the doors had windows in them - without opening the door, they had no way of knowing if Suvat and T’Kal were even in the lab. Spock stopped slightly ahead and looked back at him curiously. In a clumsy mix of mime and what little Standard sign language he could remember from the Academy, Jim explained.
With rather more fluency than Jim, Spock signed back that they could at least ascertain whether or not the Ambassador and T’Kal were close to the door, simply by listening through it.
Of course, Jim reflected after nearly a minute of dead silence, if the doors were soundproofed, this wasn’t going to work. It didn’t help that he kept tuning in on Spock’s breathing, rather than any noise from beyond the door.
When Spock tapped his arm, Jim started.
I cannot hear anything, Spock signed.
Jim mimed pushing the door ajar to sneak a peek inside. Spock nodded. The door wasn’t locked and they managed to get inside with barely a rustle of fabric audible. The faint breeze carried the distant murmur of conversation to them. Jim did his best to mime Ahah! and moved towards the border where the neatly clipped lawn met the taller grass.
Too noisy to go through.
But the grass does not extend too far. It might be possible to see over. Spock’s hand gestures were losing coherency as he hurried to explain his idea, and Jim had to wave wildly to get him to slow down.
Why? Don’t need to see, need to hear.
Spock dug in a pocket and produced a gleaming bit of metal about a centimetre across. Jim’s eyes widened. Where did you get that?
Spock twiddled a finger by his ear in a way Jim could only interpret as crazy.
Don’t understand.
U-H-U-
Jim mimed a thunderbolt of realisation. Now he knew what Spock’s finger-twiddling was meant to represent, it did look quite a lot like the way Uhura played with her earpiece.
How did Uhura get one?
I did not ask.
Fair enough, Jim supposed. Spock had to know the listening device wasn’t quite legal, but he’d gotten a lot better at pretending not to notice the less-than-model behaviour of Jim’s crew whenever it benefited the ship.
I need to see where they are to direct the thingy.
Well, Spock probably hadn’t said ‘thingy’, but Jim had never learnt exactly what the device was called, so ‘thingy’ it would have to be. He nodded.
You’re taller than me, you can see if I… He mimed giving Spock a boost.
On reflection, that probably hadn’t been his brightest idea. Spock was heavy. And also sort of climbing all over Jim in his efforts to see over the grass, which Jim considered unfairly distracting. He hoped his breathing wasn’t as loud as it seemed to him, or they could kiss goodbye to getting away with this.
And seriously, how long was Spock taking? Jim had taken jaunts across the quadrant in less time. He ignored his burning muscles and shifted him a little higher. Finally, finally, Spock jumped down. Jim offered him a tentative thumbs-up. Spock returned the gesture more emphatically, which was just a little surreal, although actually, watching Spock mime things in general was more than a little bit weird. Not to mention hilarious.
With rapid movements, Spock keyed in directions for the thingy, which sprouted spindly little legs and skittered away through the grass. The remote control obviously acted as the receiver too, because Spock attached a pair of headphones and began redirecting the bug to get a better sound. His usual blank expression was lost to momentary surprise. Jim held out a hand for the other headphone.
Well, that was… interesting. Slightly indistinct, but unmistakable, the sound of sobbing came through the wires. It had to be T’Kal, because a moment later, Suvat’s voice said, “I grieve with thee.”
The sobbing stopped abruptly. Jim glanced at Spock, who’d gone very still, eyes deliberately avoiding any contact.
“Your sympathy is unwarranted and unnecessary,” T’Kal snapped. “My grief is my own and I did not desire to share it with anyone until you forced your way into my laboratory. The memory of Soral does not excuse that.”
There was a moment’s silence, then, “Forgive me; I acted not out of memory for the past, but out of hope for the future.”
“You speak in riddles, Suvat, and it is tiresome. Did they teach you to talk in circles when you became an ambassador?” She spoke with magnificent scorn, and Jim couldn’t help grinning.
“I did not intend to speak anything other than plain fact, which is that I came to you, not because of Soral, but because I believe you to be invaluable in building the future of our people.”
“I? A scientist whose work has driven her beyond Federation law? Invaluable to our future? You are surely mistaken.”
“I confess I did not realise it at first - that you have allied yourself with these gene-splicers and purveyors of monsters is intolerable - but you can still be of use to our people, you need not shut yourself away in this outpost of butchers and criminals.”
Even without seeing T’Kal’s face, Jim could guess that hadn’t gone over well.
“The work done here is no less valuable than that of the fabled Vulcan Science Academy, Suvat. If you cannot see that, I suggest you leave now.”
“But the so-called ‘Kithara Procedure’ - it is an outrage against everything Vulcans believe, an outrage against Soral’s memory. Can you not see that?”
“Your argument is based merely on emotion and therefore has no merit,” T’Kal replied coldly.
“You speak to me of emotion, you whom I found weeping for the loss of her bondmate?” Suvat’s voice had gone taut with anger.
“My lapse of control - alone, until you interrupted - is not as inexcusable as yours. Leave me now and we shall not speak of this.”
“You will help me!”
“I will not,” T’Kal said calmly.
There was a scuffle and a grunt of pain, then a high, desperate, wordless scream that Jim could hear even without the listening device. Without pausing to think, he set off at a sprint towards the long grass, phaser drawn. Spock overtook him before he reached it and plunged into the grass like he was swimming in it.
Jim had an easier time of it, following the path Spock had beaten down, until they reached the path they had followed with Director Montague. Maybe ten seconds later, they reached open ground, to see Suvat with his back to them, crouched over the limp form of T’Kal, fingers clamped to her face.
Even if Jim had never seen a forced mind-meld before, there was a palpable sense of violation in the scene. His phaser shot reached Suvat’s back microseconds ahead of Spock’s.
They dragged the Ambassador aside. T’Kal’s whole body had gone rigid, her eyes wide and staring.
“She is in a state of fugue - her mind has retreated in the face of Suvat’s attack,” Spock explained as Jim felt for a pulse. “I would not do this without permission, but there seems little choice.”
Jim watched in helpless fascination as Spock’s fingers moved gently over T’Kal’s face. There was deathly quiet. Spock’s breathing became so shallow, Jim could barely hear it, and T’Kal’s seemed to cease altogether. Jim found himself holding his own breath in sympathy.
The minutes slid by with painful slowness. Spock was risking God knew what, chasing after a fleeing mind, and Jim could do nothing to help and he hated it. He moved over to where Suvat lay. As far as he could recall, multiple phaser shots had no worse side effects than a single one, aside from possibly burning the skin on contact. Frankly, he wasn’t too bothered about Suvat’s long-term health, but it was going to be hard enough explaining how he and Spock had known to come to T’Kal’s aid without also having to account for the death of a Federation ambassador. God, what a mess.
He used some strips from the Ambassador’s robe to tie his hands, not even knowing if it would hold against Vulcan strength, not even sure when Suvat was going to start coming round.
Spock still hadn’t moved, but Jim thought his face looked more drawn than before. He wondered if it was possible to break a meld, whether that would do more damage than leaving Spock in it for hours on end. More than anything, he wished he’d brought Uhura or Bones with him. Either of them probably knew three times more about Vulcans than Jim did. Perhaps he should radio one of them? Or both. It’d bring the whole facility down on them, but as far as he could see, they weren’t getting out of this one without some creative explaining anyway.
Five minutes passed and Jim was beginning to get distinctly jumpy. He wasn’t much good at waiting quietly at the best of times and with Spock possibly-maybe losing his mind a foot away, this definitely didn’t qualify as one of those. Fuck it. He reached for his radio.
“Bones? Bones?” No response. He tried again a little louder. Then, abandoning any shred of subtlety: “Leonard McCoy, get your ass down here now.”
“I hate you so much right now, Jim.” Bones’s voice was sleep-blurred and grumpy. No surprises there.
“Sorry, Bones, no time. We’re in T’Kal’s lab - don’t really want to say more on an open channel, but I think I’m gonna be needing your medical expertise.” Jim was kind of proud of how level he’d kept his voice through that. “Bring Uhura too. And, uh, if you can avoid waking anyone else, that’d be great.”
“Bit late for that, Jim. So do I try and shake ‘em off or what?”
Jim sighed. Why bother? “Nah, knowing my luck it’ll be galaxy-wide by lunchtime so they may as well see what’s happening for themselves.”
Bones sighed too. “On my way. McCoy out.”
Bones’s progress through the labs was rather quicker and noisier than Jim and Spock’s had been. His eyes took in the unconscious forms of Suvat and T’Kal, and Spock, still kneeling by T’Kal’s head, before glaring at Jim in exasperation.
“I really do hate you sometimes.”
Uhura took one look at the scene, pursed her lips and stalked back into the grass, just as Skor, V’Lir and T’Mara emerged from it.
“How long has he been like this?” T’Mara asked in a business-like way, nodding at Spock.
“Nearly twenty minutes.”
She drew in a breath. “That is not encouraging. The longer a mind spends divorced from its body, the harder it is for it to return.”
Jim looked at the ground. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Only what he is currently doing for T’Kal.”
“And would you end up like…?”
“It is possible. I for one would be prepared to risk it.”
“As would I,” Skor added.
“The benefits of bringing two minds back outweigh the dangers of losing one more,” V’Lir agreed.
“Additionally, if two or indeed all three of us attempt it while in contact with each other’s minds, the chances of our own becoming lost decrease dramatically. We will do it.”
Bones laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “C’mon, doesn’t sound like we’ll be much help. Damned Vulcan voodoo,” he added almost reflexively.
Jim allowed Bones to lead him to one side. “Where did Uhura go?”
“Gone to find the Director and get Security to take care of Suvat. Though frankly, I reckon she was pissed off enough to handle him on her own, Vulcan or no. You don’t mess with Spock under Uhura’s watch.”
Jim glanced over to where the three Vulcan diplomats were clustered round Spock and T’Kal. “Was my crew always this badass, or is it my influence?”
Bones snorted, shifting casually to block his view. “You wish. And speaking of Uhura, you got back too late from stalking Suvat for me to tell you, but she managed to get a message through to the Enterprise and they passed it on to New Vulcan, so we’re supposed to get a response today.”
“That’s… good. Although I’m not so sure we need the proof of Suvat’s crazy anymore.”
“You kidding? Until T’Kal’s in a fit state to testify, all anyone has to say is that you two knocked out Suvat and tried to force a meld with T’Kal to further your Evil Plan. Which I’m not sure what that could be, but that won’t stop ‘em saying it.”
“Fuck.”
Then again, if T’Kal didn’t pull through, that meant they’d have lost Spock too and if that happened, Jim wasn’t sure he cared about whatever disciplinary charges ‘Fleet Command brought him up on.
Bones seemed to know what he was thinking. “They’ll make it, Jim. Those Vulcans are crazy-stubborn, and you think Spock won’t be fighting to get back? They’ll make it.”
At some point, Uhura arrived with half a dozen security guards in tow. They carried Suvat away and seemed to want to take Jim too, but she glared them into a hasty retreat.
“Reckless idiot,” she said fondly, sitting down next to Jim. “Of course he jumps straight in with something most Vulcans get years of training for.”
“But you think he’ll be okay?” Jim asked.
She looked at him. “I do. His mind is stronger than any Vulcan I’ve ever met - it’s had to be to counterbalance his human half. I’d say that’s a pretty good start.”
“That’s… that’s actually good to hear,” he acknowledged.
She smiled. “And when they bring him out of the meld, you can bet I’ll be having words with him.”
Jim had to laugh. “You and me both,” he told her.
“It’ll be okay,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. Jim looked at her in surprise; he’d never thought she was particularly fond of needless physical contact, another reason she and Spock got on so well. “It’ll be okay,” she repeated, and Jim thought that maybe the contact was something they both needed.
Part Four
For warnings and other info, see Part One.