Feathered Frenzy : Chapter 5
Master Post
Chapter 4
Spock was still attempting to settle his wildly fluctuating emotions when the buzzer on his door rang. The captain had chosen the wrong moment to be quick and efficient. Though the illogic of that thought did emphasize the captain's concern that they were late in identifying the root of Spock's condition.
A second ring from the door buzzer snapped Spock out of his thoughts and he triggered the door. Nyota stood on in the corridor. Her anger and frustration radiated from her and Spock felt it hit his telepathic senses like a physical blow.
“Please come in,” Spock invited. He would not show how much her presence discomforted him.
Nyota stepped into the room and winced. “Computer, decrease ...”
“Computer, decrease temperature to Vulcan norm,” Spock cut in. “I know the temperature is higher than you are comfortable with, but at present I need the increased temperature.” Even the slight difference in temperature seemed to make the burning rush through his veins all the stronger.
Sniffing softly, Nyota stepped to the table and settled in the chair. “So, after running away again you suddenly need to send the captain to fetch me,” she said. “What is so important?'
Spock remained standing but turned to watch her. Nyota. His crewmate. His friend. His lover. His bondmate? How had his father successfully wooed a human female?
“I told Captain Kirk that it was not necessary to interrupt your evening.”
“Then why am I here?”
“The captain disagreed with me as to immediacy of attending to the situation.”
Nyota crossed her arms across her chest.
Spock swallowed, his throat suddenly highly uncomfortable. For all his anger, he had not felt as uncomfortable with Captain Kirk. He would have to discuss the variations in emotional reactions with his father when they next communicated.
“The captain has been observing my behavior over the last few days and I believe he has identified the source of my irrational behavior.”
“I have been observing you. You have been you. Why should Kirk be the one who understands?” Nyota snapped.
“The captain had access to information that you did not and is in a more rational state of mind than I am at present.”
She frowned, but this was less an angry frown and more a look of confusion. “You are the most rational, logical entity I know, Spock, and while I agree that the captain is highly intelligent, rational patterns are not his forte.”
“At this time most of the crew is likely more rational than I am.” He furrowed his brow as he considered the events of the afternoon. “Save perhaps those who signed up to take part in that bet.”
Her eyes widened and her brow furrowed, perhaps in puzzlement. “What bet?” She held up a hand before he could respond. “Forget it. I'm more interested in why you think you're such an irrational person right now.”
“I believe I mentioned last night that Vulcans achieve sexual maturity differently than Humans do.”
“You know you did. Your memory is excellent. Spock, what's going on?”
“It appears that the accident on Sardina III has caused me to achieve Vulcan sexual maturity.”
The room fell silent save for the whisper of the ship's environmental systems pushing air through the duct system. Nyota stared.
“Congratulations,” she finally said, mind the only indication of the anger she continued to feel. “Now explain why this required me to leave my friends in the cafeteria. I don't even want to think about why Captain Kirk knows how to identify such a thing.”
He felt his lips turn downward and his stomach … well, he was not hungry but his stomach felt a measure of discomfort in a manner he was unfamiliar with. “The Vulcan race prides logic above all things and decries emotion to the degree that many other races assume we do not posses them.”
“Which I know is wrong. Get to the point.”
“While under normal circumstances we do not allow our emotions to dictate our behavior, a remnant of biology prevents us from retaining that state under all circumstances. Once sexual maturity is reached, every seven years we suffer a condition we call pon farr. It is a biological imperative to mate. Logic and rational behavior are lost and emotion and desire rule mind and body.” Nyota frowned but did not interrupt. Spock struggled for more words to explain what was never discussed, and to convince her to disregard her anger.
“My behavior since the accident has been more and more ruled by emotion and desire, and I could not identify the cause due to the increasing failure of my logic. I have been avoiding situations that seem to induce additional emotions without considering that there was a reason for those emotions.”
“So you're saying your sexual maturity made you avoid me?” The words were spat out harshly.
“Incorrect. I have been avoiding you because your emotions have been very easy to read, which caused me to feel more emotion as well. I believed this was a failing of my training as a Vulcan. Now I see that it was my biological desire seeking out a compatible bondmate.”
He ran out of words and focused on the struggle to remain still. Under normal circumstances, stillness was easy to maintain, but right now he felt the continuous urge to move. Making note of the urge, he turned his attention to Nyota, who had still said nothing and was rubbing her left earring between her left forefinger and thumb.
“I believe I understand your explanation.” She continued to watch him, and he wondered what differences she saw from his normal state. “However, I believe you are going to have to be more explicit as to why I am here, now.”
“When Vulcans reach sexual maturity they take a bondmate. I am … You are ...” The words would not come.
“Wait ... Are you proposing?” Nyota leaned forward, her hands dropping to rest on her knees. It was a more relaxed position. Perhaps a good sign?
“I believe that is the human equivalent,” Spock agreed, grateful that she had comprehended.
“I don't ... Spock, you know I care about you,” she said, her eyes seemingly begging him for understanding. “But I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step. The impact on our careers ... Starfleet wouldn't let us stay together, and the Enterprise ... which of us could give this up? And even if they did let us stay together there's the issue of children. I haven't thought … How can you ask this now? Sure, you can explain the last few days, though you still should have let me help, but that doesn't explain why we've been … drifting apart.”
“I recognize the logic of your concern,” Spock said, but for once there was no comfort in logic.
“I cannot seriously consider a lif long commitment to you at this time.” Nyota stood. “Maybe when you are over this we can try and work things out, but right now you are dealing with too many things and I need to process some of these things you are just finally tell me … I'm sorry, Spock.” Her eyes never met his as she spoke, nor did she look back as she stepped past him and slipped out the door.
~o0o~
Jim spent the night in his ready room. In fact, as soon as he found Uhura, he went straight there. He abused his position as captain to order dinner and get a yeoman to fetch him a fresh uniform. Then he read reports until his eyes crossed and he passed out face first in a pile of PADDs. Better that than risk going back to his quarters and hearing something he shouldn't. Not that he ever had heard anything through the bulk head, but right now he was worried enough to try. At least here he could focus and get some work done.
He also spent a few minutes sending messages to Shi'masu, the new Vulcan homeworld, letting Spock's family know what was going on. Sure, Spock would take care of that later, but Jim needed to slip in requests for permission to tell Bones something, before the crotchety doctor decided to hypo it out of him.
Rand actually woke him the next morning, carrying a cup of coffee and a breakfast that would have Bones in conniptions about Jim's cholesterol levels. Bless the woman.
Of course, if she'd arrived a little earlier, Jim would have actually been on the Bridge when his shift started. That might not have changed anything since he had been planning to turn the watch over to someone else and go back to his reports, but maybe it would have.
“Spock?” His mouth had opened to request a condition update before he left again, but then he'd seen those wings and his brain had rerouted. Spock should be in his quarters dealing with pon farr. Shouldn't he?
“Yes, Captain?” It took less than a second to spot the fractures in Spock's facade of calm. He was shaking slightly, ever so slightly, and looked more than a little bulky. Jim wondered just how many thermal layers Spock was wearing. He glanced away for a moment and spotted Uhura. She was forcibly ignoring them both, hunched over her console.
Jim considered his options for a moment, then realized he'd been standing there without responding for far too long. Fortunately, Bones arrived just then and distracted the Bridge crew from wondering what was wrong with their captain.
“Commander Spock,” Bones snapped as soon as the turbo lift doors open. “You were due in my domain before your shift.”
Spock winced. It was subtle, but definitely a wince. “I am now aware of the reason for the variations regarding which you were concerned. The situation is perfectly normal for a Vulcan and so there is no need for your continued monitoring.”
Bones looked puzzled, then turned his glare on Jim. “Anyone want to explain that double speak to me?”
“Commander, has the matter we discussed last night been resolved?” Jim asked, glancing obliquely at Uhura.
“No, Captain.” Spock's reply was flat, bland, and infuriating.
“Captain, you have a message from Shi'masu,” Uhura said before Jim could decide how to respond to his second's complete inability to manage his own health.
“I'll listen later, Lieutenant.”
“It's live, sir. And we'll only be close enough to the subspace relay for another twenty minutes.” Normally Uhura would turn when she announced such things, look at the person she was talking to. Today she was not, instead remaining completely focused on her control board. What happened last night?
Jim stared at her back, then turned a glare on Spock. “I'll take it in my ready room. And while I'm doing that, you will be in Sickbay, Commander. And, Bones, keep him there. I have a few things I need to discuss with the two of you.”
He stood there until his two friends were in the turbo lift. Spock looked tempted to argue, but probably didn't want to discuss the matter in front of the entire, very curious, Bridge crew. Only once the doors were shut did Jim turn and go into his ready room. “You have the Conn, Mr Sulu,” he called over his shoulder, and ignored the plaintive and curious calls that were cut off by the doors sliding shut.
Shit, that was not a scene that should have occurred on the Bridge. If Spock was in his right mind he would have told Jim if things went south last night. Hell, if Spock was in his right mind he would have identified his condition days ago. Why didn't Vulcans tell Star Fleet about pon farr again? At least the medical staff should know what to look for, just in case a visiting scientist or ambassador started up.
With the intention of suggesting they do just that, Jim sat at his desk and triggered the small screen. And, for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, smiled.
“It is good to see your face, old friend.”
“You have no idea the truth of that, Ambassador,” Jim replied. The other Spock was a sight for sore eyes. “You received my message then?”
Spock looked pained. “Yes. I must apologize for the memories I left behind. To have lost so much control, even in the depth of such grief … I am truly sorry, old friend. These memories are not yours to bear.”
Jim waved his hands in disagreement. “Don't give me that,” he snapped. “It's never interfered with my life. Knowing two people could be that close has mostly been a wonderful experience. And today … today I thank you. If the memories you left behind hadn't tipped me off, we might not have caught this in time. You gave me the means to diagnose my stubborn friend.”
Spock looked a touch flustered for a moment, though only if you knew what to look for, but then the logic of Jim's words hit. “You have a point, as always,” he said, a hint of smile touching his lips. “All the same, the next time you are in the area I should try and reclaim these stray memories.”
“Fine, we'll talk about it then ... soon. But what I really want to know now is, what should I do about Spock?”
“You mentioned that he intended to speak with Lieutenant Uhura?”
Jim rolled his eyes at the current insanity. “Yes. But while I don't yet know what happened, it's clear he's still ...” Jim waved his hand suggestively. “And Uhura wasn't exactly glowing.”
“Pon farr takes several days to develop. Perhaps he is not yet ...”
Jim cut him off. “Last night he looked about ready to collapse. He hasn't eaten in days. Last night he couldn't stop shaking, was highly sensitive to cold, and his temper is on a hair trigger. Like I said in my message, I think the wings triggered everything and are making it worse. I … well, the incident with Lieutenant Han proved they're very sensitive.”
“Then it is likely he is very close. While it is normal to perform koon-ut-so'lik before friends and family, in an emergency it is acceptable to act in the moment and have matters settled later before the council.”
“So … what do I do?” Jim knew he sounded like a plaintive child, but he couldn't help it. His friend was sick, dying, and there was nothing the medical staff could do.
“You must find him a bond mate. Either find someone from the crew he deems acceptable or bring him to Shi'masu. And I suggest you do not delay.”
“I'll change course now, have Bones call it a medical emergency.” Jim grimaced. “Oh, and on that front, can I tell Bones something? Please?”
“Has he progressed to medical threats?” Spock looked like he was almost smiling, but it was a bit melancholy.
“Not yet, but as Sickbay is my next stop ...” Jim trailed off and tried for a look of wide eyed innocence. The twinkle in Spock's eye probably indicated he'd failed miserably.
“I sent a packet of information when I first called. In it is information on pon farr from a medical and cultural perspective. You may share it with Dr. McCoy. It is based on a packet I have been suggesting we send to Starfleet medical just in case of incidents like this.”
“I was so going to suggest something like that,” Jim said. “If I hadn't recognized the source of Spock's behavior … well, Vulcans are too precious to leave such things to chance any time soon.”
“I agree. However, not all do.”
“I'll be happy to talk to some people in your support any time you want.”
“Thank you, Jim. This incident will hopefully spur action.”
“Um … and how am I to explain how I recognized Spock's condition?”
“You have my permission to explain the source fully to Dr. McCoy. I would never have kept it from him had you asked previously.”
Jim let out a relieved breath. “Excellent, thanks. I'd thought about asking, but Starfleet was pretty firm about keeping my mouth shut.”
“It was not my wish that they do so, but I do understand and appreciate their efforts to keep my origins quiet. My life is quite complex enough as Selek.”
“I can only imagine. Well, we'll see you in a few days most likely. I'll talk to Spock, but if Uhura said no I have a feeling we'll be there shortly. Um … there will be someone to help him if we get him to Shi'masu, right? I know he said T'Pring died with Vulcan ...”
“There are several females of the right age and I believe I know what kind of bondmate would best please my younger self. I shall begin seeking someone immediately.”
Jim nodded. “Good. I'll focus on getting him there alive, Bones'll keep him alive that long, and you'll have someone to keep him alive on that end. Perfect.”
“I have faith that all will be well.” It was not a very Vulcan statement, but Jim had learned that this Spock was prone to the occasional Human sentiment. “Live long and prosper, old friend.” Spock held his hand up in the Vulcan sign and Jim echoed him as best he could. He still couldn't quite get his pinky to stay with his fourth finger all the time.
“And you, old friend. We'll see you soon.”
~o0o~
Jim didn't waste any time brooding in his ready room. He strode back onto the Bridge with a firm stride. Stopping next to his chair, Jim called, “Ensign, how long to Shi'masu?”
“Ten days at warp four, Keptin,” Chekov replied after a short pause, his young face aglow with curiosity. Actually, the whole crew was eyeing him with desperate curiosity. Except Uhura. She wasn't looking at anyone at all.
Jim opened a comm line to Engineering. “Bridge to Mr. Scott.”
“Yes, Captain,” Scotty answered quickly.
“Just how fast and for how long can this ship go?” Jim asked, challenging with his tone. Seven days was just too long.
“Well, sir, with the modifications we made last year, I think we could get warp eight, probably, might burn out the engines after three days, but I don't think … warp seven definitely though, indefinitely.”
“Ensign,” Jim called, “how long to Shi'masu at warp seven?”
“Five days, twenty hours, and seven minutes,” Chekov ripped off far too quickly. He'd probably been computing alternate speeds since Jim asked the first one.
“And warp eight?”
“Three days, twelve hours, twenty minutes.”
“Then set the course and punch it. Warp seven,” Jim ordered. “And, Scotty?”
“Yes, sir?” Scotty replied eagerly, sensing a challenge in the offing.
“Convince me you can make those engines last at warp eight and you'll get to try it,” Jim tempted.
“Yes, sir!” Scotty replied enthusiastically. “I'll have the equations and proofs for you in an hour.”
“Very good.” Jim flicked off the comm.
“Course laid in, Captain,” Sulu announced. “Warp seven.”
“Go,” Jim ordered flatly. He looked at his chair, his position of authority, and winced. He had no orders for this change in course, and it was a miracle his crew hadn't called him on that fact. He'd get that sorted out as soon as he got to Sickbay. Starfleet would have to listen.
“Captain?” Uhura said, her voice hinting at her displeasure at his unexplained actions. “I need to inform Starfleet of our change in course. Can I tell them why?” Well, someone had called him on it after all.
“Medical emergency,” Jim bullshitted. “Further details to follow.”
“Interesting,” Uhura intoned, sounding far too much like her lover, “since Shi'masu is not the nearest source of medical aid and Dr. McCoy has said no such thing.”
Jim walked over to her and spoke quietly, for her ears only. “You said no last night, didn't you?
Uhura finally looked at him, frowning. “I do not understand how you know anything about that, but you're right. I said no. It's not the right time.”
“Then Spock is the medical emergency. Dr. McCoy just doesn't know it quite yet. Please route the packet of information Ambassador Selek sent down to Sickbay. If Starfleet calls, route it down there too.”
He turned away, not wanting to see her reaction. “Lieutenant Sulu, you have the conn.”
~o0o~
“I hope to you're here to tell me what the hell is going on,” Bones snapped as soon as Jim stepped into Sickbay. Spock was nowhere in sight.
“Yes, but the info I just had routed down should do it better than I can,” Jim answered distractedly. He had been out of it the whole way from the Bridge, trying to figure out how the hell Uhura could have said no to Spock. He could die without her and she was worried about the timing?
“Hey, Jim, you here?” Bones asked, dragging Jim to his office when he stood still a little too long.
“Sorry, Bones,” Jim replied, shaking off his distraction and sitting at the doctor's desk to access the files from Shi'masu. “Where's Spock?”
“I finished the tests and put him in an iso room for now. His numbers are a mess and I don't want him out of my sight right now.”
“Can't blame you. From what I recall ...” Jim scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well, it'll get worse before it gets better.”
“Are you ever going to explain?” Bones demanded.
Jim just answered by activating the video message attached to the files. Ambassador Selek's face filled the screen.
“Jim, I have received permission from The Vulcan High Council to send to you a number of files. Included are an explanation of pon farr for Dr. McCoy, a description of the rituals of koon-ut-so'lik, and some techniques and medications which may aid Spock in handling his condition. If Dr. McCoy forwards Spock's medical records over the last few days, then our specialists will attempt to provide additional recommendations.
“I know that you will keep these files private between yourself and the good doctor and together you will do everything you can for Spock.
“Please inform me of Lieutenant Uhura's decision. If she declines, the Council will request the Enterprise's presence and hopefully the techniques included here will keep Spock stable long enough to arrive.
“Live long and prosper, old friend.”
Bones listened to the whole message with a look of confusion. “Who the hell was that?”
“Ambassador Selek,” Jim replied, smiling. Spock must have thrown that message on just for Bones.
“Old friend? Jim? I've never heard a Vulcan speak so informally. How long have you known him?”
It was a relief not to have to hide that incident anymore. “Since Spock marooned me on Delta Vega, or over a hundred years, depending on who you ask,” he said with a wistful smile. Before Bones could poke and dig any further, he went on to explain everything, who Selek was and where he was from, the mind meld, how Jim knew about pon farr, everything. Then he added how deeply Starfleet had classified the whole situation
“You let an alien you just met go poking around in your brain?” Bones demanded, sounding like he believed Jim to be completely insane.
Uncertain how to answer, Jim shrugged. “He was very persuasive.”
“Persuasive? This from the man I can't even get to sit still when he's got three broken ribs and a trachea so bruised he can barely speak?”
Jim snickered. “Sorry, Bones.”
“Remind me to ask this guy for tips when we get to Shi'masu,” Bones snarked. “Wait, are we going?”
“Yes,” Jim said sadly. “And since I already changed course, could you tell Starfleet about our very private medical emergency?”
“What about Uhura? Those two have been hot and heavy for years.”
“Apparently she said no,” Jim growled.
“What?” Bones snapped. “You said he'll die without ...”
“I know that,” Jim snapped back. He knew and it terrified him. He strode towards the iso room Bones had indicated earlier, calling back, “Look, read through the files, see if you can come up with something to help Spock. I'm pretty sure the wings have exacerbated the whole thing, sped up the process.”
“Damn … what are you going to be doing?”
Jim turned at the door. “Finding out why we didn't change course last night.”
Chapter 6
Chapter 4
Spock was still attempting to settle his wildly fluctuating emotions when the buzzer on his door rang. The captain had chosen the wrong moment to be quick and efficient. Though the illogic of that thought did emphasize the captain's concern that they were late in identifying the root of Spock's condition.
A second ring from the door buzzer snapped Spock out of his thoughts and he triggered the door. Nyota stood on in the corridor. Her anger and frustration radiated from her and Spock felt it hit his telepathic senses like a physical blow.
“Please come in,” Spock invited. He would not show how much her presence discomforted him.
Nyota stepped into the room and winced. “Computer, decrease ...”
“Computer, decrease temperature to Vulcan norm,” Spock cut in. “I know the temperature is higher than you are comfortable with, but at present I need the increased temperature.” Even the slight difference in temperature seemed to make the burning rush through his veins all the stronger.
Sniffing softly, Nyota stepped to the table and settled in the chair. “So, after running away again you suddenly need to send the captain to fetch me,” she said. “What is so important?'
Spock remained standing but turned to watch her. Nyota. His crewmate. His friend. His lover. His bondmate? How had his father successfully wooed a human female?
“I told Captain Kirk that it was not necessary to interrupt your evening.”
“Then why am I here?”
“The captain disagreed with me as to immediacy of attending to the situation.”
Nyota crossed her arms across her chest.
Spock swallowed, his throat suddenly highly uncomfortable. For all his anger, he had not felt as uncomfortable with Captain Kirk. He would have to discuss the variations in emotional reactions with his father when they next communicated.
“The captain has been observing my behavior over the last few days and I believe he has identified the source of my irrational behavior.”
“I have been observing you. You have been you. Why should Kirk be the one who understands?” Nyota snapped.
“The captain had access to information that you did not and is in a more rational state of mind than I am at present.”
She frowned, but this was less an angry frown and more a look of confusion. “You are the most rational, logical entity I know, Spock, and while I agree that the captain is highly intelligent, rational patterns are not his forte.”
“At this time most of the crew is likely more rational than I am.” He furrowed his brow as he considered the events of the afternoon. “Save perhaps those who signed up to take part in that bet.”
Her eyes widened and her brow furrowed, perhaps in puzzlement. “What bet?” She held up a hand before he could respond. “Forget it. I'm more interested in why you think you're such an irrational person right now.”
“I believe I mentioned last night that Vulcans achieve sexual maturity differently than Humans do.”
“You know you did. Your memory is excellent. Spock, what's going on?”
“It appears that the accident on Sardina III has caused me to achieve Vulcan sexual maturity.”
The room fell silent save for the whisper of the ship's environmental systems pushing air through the duct system. Nyota stared.
“Congratulations,” she finally said, mind the only indication of the anger she continued to feel. “Now explain why this required me to leave my friends in the cafeteria. I don't even want to think about why Captain Kirk knows how to identify such a thing.”
He felt his lips turn downward and his stomach … well, he was not hungry but his stomach felt a measure of discomfort in a manner he was unfamiliar with. “The Vulcan race prides logic above all things and decries emotion to the degree that many other races assume we do not posses them.”
“Which I know is wrong. Get to the point.”
“While under normal circumstances we do not allow our emotions to dictate our behavior, a remnant of biology prevents us from retaining that state under all circumstances. Once sexual maturity is reached, every seven years we suffer a condition we call pon farr. It is a biological imperative to mate. Logic and rational behavior are lost and emotion and desire rule mind and body.” Nyota frowned but did not interrupt. Spock struggled for more words to explain what was never discussed, and to convince her to disregard her anger.
“My behavior since the accident has been more and more ruled by emotion and desire, and I could not identify the cause due to the increasing failure of my logic. I have been avoiding situations that seem to induce additional emotions without considering that there was a reason for those emotions.”
“So you're saying your sexual maturity made you avoid me?” The words were spat out harshly.
“Incorrect. I have been avoiding you because your emotions have been very easy to read, which caused me to feel more emotion as well. I believed this was a failing of my training as a Vulcan. Now I see that it was my biological desire seeking out a compatible bondmate.”
He ran out of words and focused on the struggle to remain still. Under normal circumstances, stillness was easy to maintain, but right now he felt the continuous urge to move. Making note of the urge, he turned his attention to Nyota, who had still said nothing and was rubbing her left earring between her left forefinger and thumb.
“I believe I understand your explanation.” She continued to watch him, and he wondered what differences she saw from his normal state. “However, I believe you are going to have to be more explicit as to why I am here, now.”
“When Vulcans reach sexual maturity they take a bondmate. I am … You are ...” The words would not come.
“Wait ... Are you proposing?” Nyota leaned forward, her hands dropping to rest on her knees. It was a more relaxed position. Perhaps a good sign?
“I believe that is the human equivalent,” Spock agreed, grateful that she had comprehended.
“I don't ... Spock, you know I care about you,” she said, her eyes seemingly begging him for understanding. “But I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step. The impact on our careers ... Starfleet wouldn't let us stay together, and the Enterprise ... which of us could give this up? And even if they did let us stay together there's the issue of children. I haven't thought … How can you ask this now? Sure, you can explain the last few days, though you still should have let me help, but that doesn't explain why we've been … drifting apart.”
“I recognize the logic of your concern,” Spock said, but for once there was no comfort in logic.
“I cannot seriously consider a lif long commitment to you at this time.” Nyota stood. “Maybe when you are over this we can try and work things out, but right now you are dealing with too many things and I need to process some of these things you are just finally tell me … I'm sorry, Spock.” Her eyes never met his as she spoke, nor did she look back as she stepped past him and slipped out the door.
~o0o~
Jim spent the night in his ready room. In fact, as soon as he found Uhura, he went straight there. He abused his position as captain to order dinner and get a yeoman to fetch him a fresh uniform. Then he read reports until his eyes crossed and he passed out face first in a pile of PADDs. Better that than risk going back to his quarters and hearing something he shouldn't. Not that he ever had heard anything through the bulk head, but right now he was worried enough to try. At least here he could focus and get some work done.
He also spent a few minutes sending messages to Shi'masu, the new Vulcan homeworld, letting Spock's family know what was going on. Sure, Spock would take care of that later, but Jim needed to slip in requests for permission to tell Bones something, before the crotchety doctor decided to hypo it out of him.
Rand actually woke him the next morning, carrying a cup of coffee and a breakfast that would have Bones in conniptions about Jim's cholesterol levels. Bless the woman.
Of course, if she'd arrived a little earlier, Jim would have actually been on the Bridge when his shift started. That might not have changed anything since he had been planning to turn the watch over to someone else and go back to his reports, but maybe it would have.
“Spock?” His mouth had opened to request a condition update before he left again, but then he'd seen those wings and his brain had rerouted. Spock should be in his quarters dealing with pon farr. Shouldn't he?
“Yes, Captain?” It took less than a second to spot the fractures in Spock's facade of calm. He was shaking slightly, ever so slightly, and looked more than a little bulky. Jim wondered just how many thermal layers Spock was wearing. He glanced away for a moment and spotted Uhura. She was forcibly ignoring them both, hunched over her console.
Jim considered his options for a moment, then realized he'd been standing there without responding for far too long. Fortunately, Bones arrived just then and distracted the Bridge crew from wondering what was wrong with their captain.
“Commander Spock,” Bones snapped as soon as the turbo lift doors open. “You were due in my domain before your shift.”
Spock winced. It was subtle, but definitely a wince. “I am now aware of the reason for the variations regarding which you were concerned. The situation is perfectly normal for a Vulcan and so there is no need for your continued monitoring.”
Bones looked puzzled, then turned his glare on Jim. “Anyone want to explain that double speak to me?”
“Commander, has the matter we discussed last night been resolved?” Jim asked, glancing obliquely at Uhura.
“No, Captain.” Spock's reply was flat, bland, and infuriating.
“Captain, you have a message from Shi'masu,” Uhura said before Jim could decide how to respond to his second's complete inability to manage his own health.
“I'll listen later, Lieutenant.”
“It's live, sir. And we'll only be close enough to the subspace relay for another twenty minutes.” Normally Uhura would turn when she announced such things, look at the person she was talking to. Today she was not, instead remaining completely focused on her control board. What happened last night?
Jim stared at her back, then turned a glare on Spock. “I'll take it in my ready room. And while I'm doing that, you will be in Sickbay, Commander. And, Bones, keep him there. I have a few things I need to discuss with the two of you.”
He stood there until his two friends were in the turbo lift. Spock looked tempted to argue, but probably didn't want to discuss the matter in front of the entire, very curious, Bridge crew. Only once the doors were shut did Jim turn and go into his ready room. “You have the Conn, Mr Sulu,” he called over his shoulder, and ignored the plaintive and curious calls that were cut off by the doors sliding shut.
Shit, that was not a scene that should have occurred on the Bridge. If Spock was in his right mind he would have told Jim if things went south last night. Hell, if Spock was in his right mind he would have identified his condition days ago. Why didn't Vulcans tell Star Fleet about pon farr again? At least the medical staff should know what to look for, just in case a visiting scientist or ambassador started up.
With the intention of suggesting they do just that, Jim sat at his desk and triggered the small screen. And, for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, smiled.
“It is good to see your face, old friend.”
“You have no idea the truth of that, Ambassador,” Jim replied. The other Spock was a sight for sore eyes. “You received my message then?”
Spock looked pained. “Yes. I must apologize for the memories I left behind. To have lost so much control, even in the depth of such grief … I am truly sorry, old friend. These memories are not yours to bear.”
Jim waved his hands in disagreement. “Don't give me that,” he snapped. “It's never interfered with my life. Knowing two people could be that close has mostly been a wonderful experience. And today … today I thank you. If the memories you left behind hadn't tipped me off, we might not have caught this in time. You gave me the means to diagnose my stubborn friend.”
Spock looked a touch flustered for a moment, though only if you knew what to look for, but then the logic of Jim's words hit. “You have a point, as always,” he said, a hint of smile touching his lips. “All the same, the next time you are in the area I should try and reclaim these stray memories.”
“Fine, we'll talk about it then ... soon. But what I really want to know now is, what should I do about Spock?”
“You mentioned that he intended to speak with Lieutenant Uhura?”
Jim rolled his eyes at the current insanity. “Yes. But while I don't yet know what happened, it's clear he's still ...” Jim waved his hand suggestively. “And Uhura wasn't exactly glowing.”
“Pon farr takes several days to develop. Perhaps he is not yet ...”
Jim cut him off. “Last night he looked about ready to collapse. He hasn't eaten in days. Last night he couldn't stop shaking, was highly sensitive to cold, and his temper is on a hair trigger. Like I said in my message, I think the wings triggered everything and are making it worse. I … well, the incident with Lieutenant Han proved they're very sensitive.”
“Then it is likely he is very close. While it is normal to perform koon-ut-so'lik before friends and family, in an emergency it is acceptable to act in the moment and have matters settled later before the council.”
“So … what do I do?” Jim knew he sounded like a plaintive child, but he couldn't help it. His friend was sick, dying, and there was nothing the medical staff could do.
“You must find him a bond mate. Either find someone from the crew he deems acceptable or bring him to Shi'masu. And I suggest you do not delay.”
“I'll change course now, have Bones call it a medical emergency.” Jim grimaced. “Oh, and on that front, can I tell Bones something? Please?”
“Has he progressed to medical threats?” Spock looked like he was almost smiling, but it was a bit melancholy.
“Not yet, but as Sickbay is my next stop ...” Jim trailed off and tried for a look of wide eyed innocence. The twinkle in Spock's eye probably indicated he'd failed miserably.
“I sent a packet of information when I first called. In it is information on pon farr from a medical and cultural perspective. You may share it with Dr. McCoy. It is based on a packet I have been suggesting we send to Starfleet medical just in case of incidents like this.”
“I was so going to suggest something like that,” Jim said. “If I hadn't recognized the source of Spock's behavior … well, Vulcans are too precious to leave such things to chance any time soon.”
“I agree. However, not all do.”
“I'll be happy to talk to some people in your support any time you want.”
“Thank you, Jim. This incident will hopefully spur action.”
“Um … and how am I to explain how I recognized Spock's condition?”
“You have my permission to explain the source fully to Dr. McCoy. I would never have kept it from him had you asked previously.”
Jim let out a relieved breath. “Excellent, thanks. I'd thought about asking, but Starfleet was pretty firm about keeping my mouth shut.”
“It was not my wish that they do so, but I do understand and appreciate their efforts to keep my origins quiet. My life is quite complex enough as Selek.”
“I can only imagine. Well, we'll see you in a few days most likely. I'll talk to Spock, but if Uhura said no I have a feeling we'll be there shortly. Um … there will be someone to help him if we get him to Shi'masu, right? I know he said T'Pring died with Vulcan ...”
“There are several females of the right age and I believe I know what kind of bondmate would best please my younger self. I shall begin seeking someone immediately.”
Jim nodded. “Good. I'll focus on getting him there alive, Bones'll keep him alive that long, and you'll have someone to keep him alive on that end. Perfect.”
“I have faith that all will be well.” It was not a very Vulcan statement, but Jim had learned that this Spock was prone to the occasional Human sentiment. “Live long and prosper, old friend.” Spock held his hand up in the Vulcan sign and Jim echoed him as best he could. He still couldn't quite get his pinky to stay with his fourth finger all the time.
“And you, old friend. We'll see you soon.”
~o0o~
Jim didn't waste any time brooding in his ready room. He strode back onto the Bridge with a firm stride. Stopping next to his chair, Jim called, “Ensign, how long to Shi'masu?”
“Ten days at warp four, Keptin,” Chekov replied after a short pause, his young face aglow with curiosity. Actually, the whole crew was eyeing him with desperate curiosity. Except Uhura. She wasn't looking at anyone at all.
Jim opened a comm line to Engineering. “Bridge to Mr. Scott.”
“Yes, Captain,” Scotty answered quickly.
“Just how fast and for how long can this ship go?” Jim asked, challenging with his tone. Seven days was just too long.
“Well, sir, with the modifications we made last year, I think we could get warp eight, probably, might burn out the engines after three days, but I don't think … warp seven definitely though, indefinitely.”
“Ensign,” Jim called, “how long to Shi'masu at warp seven?”
“Five days, twenty hours, and seven minutes,” Chekov ripped off far too quickly. He'd probably been computing alternate speeds since Jim asked the first one.
“And warp eight?”
“Three days, twelve hours, twenty minutes.”
“Then set the course and punch it. Warp seven,” Jim ordered. “And, Scotty?”
“Yes, sir?” Scotty replied eagerly, sensing a challenge in the offing.
“Convince me you can make those engines last at warp eight and you'll get to try it,” Jim tempted.
“Yes, sir!” Scotty replied enthusiastically. “I'll have the equations and proofs for you in an hour.”
“Very good.” Jim flicked off the comm.
“Course laid in, Captain,” Sulu announced. “Warp seven.”
“Go,” Jim ordered flatly. He looked at his chair, his position of authority, and winced. He had no orders for this change in course, and it was a miracle his crew hadn't called him on that fact. He'd get that sorted out as soon as he got to Sickbay. Starfleet would have to listen.
“Captain?” Uhura said, her voice hinting at her displeasure at his unexplained actions. “I need to inform Starfleet of our change in course. Can I tell them why?” Well, someone had called him on it after all.
“Medical emergency,” Jim bullshitted. “Further details to follow.”
“Interesting,” Uhura intoned, sounding far too much like her lover, “since Shi'masu is not the nearest source of medical aid and Dr. McCoy has said no such thing.”
Jim walked over to her and spoke quietly, for her ears only. “You said no last night, didn't you?
Uhura finally looked at him, frowning. “I do not understand how you know anything about that, but you're right. I said no. It's not the right time.”
“Then Spock is the medical emergency. Dr. McCoy just doesn't know it quite yet. Please route the packet of information Ambassador Selek sent down to Sickbay. If Starfleet calls, route it down there too.”
He turned away, not wanting to see her reaction. “Lieutenant Sulu, you have the conn.”
~o0o~
“I hope to you're here to tell me what the hell is going on,” Bones snapped as soon as Jim stepped into Sickbay. Spock was nowhere in sight.
“Yes, but the info I just had routed down should do it better than I can,” Jim answered distractedly. He had been out of it the whole way from the Bridge, trying to figure out how the hell Uhura could have said no to Spock. He could die without her and she was worried about the timing?
“Hey, Jim, you here?” Bones asked, dragging Jim to his office when he stood still a little too long.
“Sorry, Bones,” Jim replied, shaking off his distraction and sitting at the doctor's desk to access the files from Shi'masu. “Where's Spock?”
“I finished the tests and put him in an iso room for now. His numbers are a mess and I don't want him out of my sight right now.”
“Can't blame you. From what I recall ...” Jim scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well, it'll get worse before it gets better.”
“Are you ever going to explain?” Bones demanded.
Jim just answered by activating the video message attached to the files. Ambassador Selek's face filled the screen.
“Jim, I have received permission from The Vulcan High Council to send to you a number of files. Included are an explanation of pon farr for Dr. McCoy, a description of the rituals of koon-ut-so'lik, and some techniques and medications which may aid Spock in handling his condition. If Dr. McCoy forwards Spock's medical records over the last few days, then our specialists will attempt to provide additional recommendations.
“I know that you will keep these files private between yourself and the good doctor and together you will do everything you can for Spock.
“Please inform me of Lieutenant Uhura's decision. If she declines, the Council will request the Enterprise's presence and hopefully the techniques included here will keep Spock stable long enough to arrive.
“Live long and prosper, old friend.”
Bones listened to the whole message with a look of confusion. “Who the hell was that?”
“Ambassador Selek,” Jim replied, smiling. Spock must have thrown that message on just for Bones.
“Old friend? Jim? I've never heard a Vulcan speak so informally. How long have you known him?”
It was a relief not to have to hide that incident anymore. “Since Spock marooned me on Delta Vega, or over a hundred years, depending on who you ask,” he said with a wistful smile. Before Bones could poke and dig any further, he went on to explain everything, who Selek was and where he was from, the mind meld, how Jim knew about pon farr, everything. Then he added how deeply Starfleet had classified the whole situation
“You let an alien you just met go poking around in your brain?” Bones demanded, sounding like he believed Jim to be completely insane.
Uncertain how to answer, Jim shrugged. “He was very persuasive.”
“Persuasive? This from the man I can't even get to sit still when he's got three broken ribs and a trachea so bruised he can barely speak?”
Jim snickered. “Sorry, Bones.”
“Remind me to ask this guy for tips when we get to Shi'masu,” Bones snarked. “Wait, are we going?”
“Yes,” Jim said sadly. “And since I already changed course, could you tell Starfleet about our very private medical emergency?”
“What about Uhura? Those two have been hot and heavy for years.”
“Apparently she said no,” Jim growled.
“What?” Bones snapped. “You said he'll die without ...”
“I know that,” Jim snapped back. He knew and it terrified him. He strode towards the iso room Bones had indicated earlier, calling back, “Look, read through the files, see if you can come up with something to help Spock. I'm pretty sure the wings have exacerbated the whole thing, sped up the process.”
“Damn … what are you going to be doing?”
Jim turned at the door. “Finding out why we didn't change course last night.”
Chapter 6