Fic: Follow the Leader (Kirk/Spock preslash)
Title: Follow the Leader (1/7)
Author: bigmamag
Universe: Reboot AU
Pairing: Kirk/Spock preslash
Rating: PG-13
Relationship status: preslash
Word count: 4700/~
Genre: Drama
Tropes: au counterparts, destiny, friendship
Warnings: spoilers for the fic Refractions
Summary: After the events of Refractions, life is forever changed for one of the universes. Director Spock returns to Vulcan, but finds that his ordered and predictable life is no longer satisfactory. Captain Kirk is faced with the harsh realities of a potential Romulan war and the loneliness of command.
Note: First and foremost, this fic will make little sense if you haven't read Refractions because it's set in an alternate universe right after the events of the story. That said, holy hell has this has taken a long time to get out and yet, it's a dreaded wip. My first, in fact. I think it took so long because of my own anxiety and the fact that a lot of people were looking forward to it and I didn't want to disappoint them. I have an ending in mind and some other scenes written, so even if I fail hard and don't finish, I'll at least be able to prostrate myself before you in apology and give away the ending. Thanks to cicero_drayon, this is much more concise and not boring, and special thanks to bostongirl2003 for the final beta.
STORY IS COMPLETE, READ ON AO3 HERE
Now you can follow your gut
Or you can follow the past
But if you knew an eclipse was coming
Why’d you even ask?
-"Follow the Leader" by Matthew Ryan
Jim watched as their hastily-made explosive was launched into the core of the star burning on the time planet's surface. The Jim Kirk from an alternate universe was at the monitor that held the last image of his first officer and friend. Both of that Kirk's hands were on the screen as if he could reach out and touch his Spock across the distance between them. Jim stood back with the others as they quietly watched the scene unfold before them. Jim would not be able to tell anyone later how the others were reacting because he was too busy staring at the monitor, transfixed at the heartbreaking scene before him. Kirk was no longer screaming as he’d been moments before, but his eyes were desperately following any movement on the screen. Spock's skin was mottled green, an indication that he was slowly dying from radiation poisoning.
There was no huge spectacle or fanfare like Jim would expect to occur when three universes are pulled back into their respective places. Instead, groups of people, ships docked in the hangar, emergency medical fixtures, and design schemes simply faded away as if they had never been there to begin with, the monitor now displaying empty space and a now-rapidly diminishing star. The last thing Kirk saw disappear was Captain Spock, the strange Vulcan from that third universe with his harsh features and long hair, face openly expressing deep sorrow.
The sudden silence was jarring. Jim looked around to see that most of the inhabitants of shuttlebay had been from the other two universes. There were only a handful of officers left that had been witness to what had just occurred. Director Spock stared stonily at the screen. His gaze moved over to Jim, indecipherable. Somehow it was this look that gave Jim the impetus to move and perform his duties. He moved to the now-empty monitor, hesitating slightly before opening a frequency to the ship, oddly spooked over using it again.
"This is the captain speaking. The crisis has been averted. Through the efforts of a brave Starfleet officer from one of the dual alternate dimensions we have encountered today, we have all been saved. We are now on yellow alert until further notice. I want all yeomen to perform the necessary head count of the wounded and deceased for the ship's log. All available senior officers are to meet with me on the bridge. You have all performed admirably under extraordinary conditions. Kirk out."
Jim ended the transmission and let himself slump in fatigue. It was still silent in the near-empty shuttlebay, a mourning atmosphere. Several of his crewmen were dead; he would have to notify their families, give commendations, get his ship back into normal order and do it all with a command presence and confidence he currently didn't feel. He felt someone approach him, and he turned to see Spock.
"He was an exemplary officer," Spock said.
"It was...logical of him, I know. He did his heritage proud," Jim said.
"Yes."
"But I still grieve for him."
Spock had no response. They stood that way for a moment before Lieutenant Commander Marple approached them, one hand on his phaser.
"Sir, your orders?" he asked gently, and Jim suddenly remembered that Spock was still a prisoner of the Federation. It was extremely unfair after all they’d been through. He scowled slightly before reluctantly composing himself.
"You will escort the director to the brig."
Two security guards appeared and fenced in Spock. It felt horribly wrong, and Jim was struck by the urge to screw protocol and tell the guards to fuck off. It was unlike him, and he didn't quite know where this strong desire came from.
"I'll talk with Starfleet and tell them what you accomplished here today."
Spock looked steadily at Jim and, once again, Jim was put at ease. "Until then, I shall submit to your authority."
The guards walked away, Spock sandwiched between them. Jim left for the bridge.
*
Jim always hated when disasters like these struck. Even though they had come off triumphant, eleven members of his crew were dead, another twenty or more severely injured, but recovering. And then there was the looming political horror of Romulans infiltrating the Vulcan Science Academy and being armed with a weapon that could destroy a planet within minutes. The Federation, he knew, would immediately demand that any red matter still on Vulcan was to be distributed to Earth and other Federation planets, as the Vulcans were universally known as pacifists and were an easy target for destruction. If they were lucky, they were heading toward a galactic cold war. If they weren't, they were heading toward actual war.
Jim ran a hand through his hair. He was alone in the conference room after a briefing with his senior officers, and he was exhausted, having not slept since before the first red alert sounded. Nevertheless, his mind was running impossibly fast, and he had gone without sleep for longer before.
He switched on the terminal in front of him and hailed the bridge.
"Uhura, I have just spoken privately with Starfleet. The Vulcans aboard our ship can leave the brig and set up in our guest quarters under heavy security. I would like to speak with Director Spock in the arboretum, if he is amenable and only if he is amenable."
Moments later Uhura confirmed Spock’s acquiescence to a visit. Jim left the conference room to meet with him, wincing at damaged walls and broken circuits as he went. It was inevitable that his ship would undergo repairs as soon as they arrived on Earth. It was also inevitable that Uhura would smuggle him off the ship herself if he did not take shore leave there instead of overseeing the repairs. Jim had no plans for his shore leave, aside from some vague idea of visiting his mother and stepfather, at least for one day of the leave.
When Jim entered the arboretum, he remembered why he rarely came here. It was like coming home after being gone for months, but then discovering that someone had changed the lock codes, leaving you to look longingly through the windows at the warmth within. The smell of grass and flowers overpowered his senses, and the rush of water in the large rock fountain sang in his blood. Jim loved being outdoors, and the artificial garden made his chest ache with want. Coming here made him want to forget his duties and daydream of blue skies and open fields. There would be time enough for that in a week.
Jim spotted Spock by a large rosebush. He grinned when he saw that Spock was touching one of the roses, examining each petal, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. Ever the scientist, that one. Spock no longer wore the borrowed Starfleet uniform, most likely because he was no longer actively working on the ship. Instead, he wore a gray sweater that looked like his mom might have knitted it and gray pants. Jim didn't know how he managed to look regal in it, but then again Spock could probably look regal in a potato sack; some people just had that talent. Spock heard him approach and let the rose spring back, straightening as if he were standing at attention.
"Captain." Spock greeted, his hand going up in a V-shape. Knowing that he sucked at the traditional Vulcan greeting, Jim instead gave a lame half-wave.
"Director. Thank you for meeting with me."
"There was no inconvenience. After all, it is because of you that my team and I are no longer confined to the brig."
Jim waved his gratitude away. "You don't deserve to be in there and you certainly don't deserve a trial either."
"It is not a matter of deserving or not deserving. The Federation must be sure that justice is carried out and all guilty parties prosecuted."
"Still, it's a crap way to treat a guy who helped save all of our lives. I will, of course, be testifying at the trial."
"I surmised that you would be. Was this what you wished to discuss?"
"No. Walk with me?" he asked, already beginning to move. Spock matched his step, and they began to follow the winding path of the garden. "I actually wanted to talk about everything that happened. You know, the other universes and all that."
No emotion crossed over Spock's face, but Jim had a feeling that Spock was reluctant to discuss it. He didn't blame him; there was no easy way to talk about what crazy things your alternate self did or didn't do.
"What aspect do you wish to discuss?"
"I'm still sort of...freaked out about meeting myself in other universes."
Spock nodded slightly. "Quite understandable. The disorientation that has resulted from that event is still prevalent in my mind as well."
So Spock was freaked out too. Jim felt a tension he was unaware of leave his shoulders, and he began to let himself feel tired.
"I know it sounds stupid, but I can't help but compare myself to them. Our lives are so utterly different that there should be no comparison, but it's there, nonetheless."
"I too have had similar thoughts. There is little resemblance between myself and my highly emotional counterpart from the universe in which Earth and Vulcan were destroyed. His mannerisms are almost completely Human and are therefore alien to me. However," here Spock hesitated, his pace slowing just a little. "There was the counterpart from Starfleet. He had lived among humans for years and openly considered his captain friend, yet he maintained his emotions, performed the logical action. I have never known friendship, nor do I have the capacity to understand its purpose. However, it is the first time I have considered that it does not have to be a weakness."
Jim looked at him softly. "You don't have to be a Vulcan for that to be a revelation. I can't imagine being so close to someone that I'd react to their death as if my world were ending. I mean, I've lost a lot of crewmen, many friends, but I don't get close to anyone. My stepfather said that command is a great but lonely place, and I think he was right. I graduated from the Academy so young, spent all my time reaching these goals, trying to make a name for myself that wasn't 'son of George Kirk'. Now I've got all these medals and honors, and I'm the youngest captain in Starfleet's history. I've got the respect of officers triple my age. They tell me that in a few years I can become an admiral. Maybe then I'll find time to get some good drinking buddies or a family or something. But friendship like that? I can't imagine."
Spock fell silent, and Jim did as well, fearing that he had probably spilled too much. This is why he hated talking about these sorts of things, but it was kind of also why he needed it. He couldn't just sit down with someone from his own crew and talk about feelings-he was their superior officer and it just wouldn't do. But he felt safe speaking like this to Spock, and wasn't that mighty illogical, talking about emotions to a being practically free of them. It was likely that Jim was being this way because as soon as the trial ended, he'd probably never see Spock again, as they led very different lives. The thought saddened him.
"You have little need to compare yourself to your counterparts," said Spock. "You are quite different than them."
Jim snorted. "Well, at least I don't feel the constant need to kill things. And speaking of that particular you and me-they were dating, weren't they?"
"They were in an exclusive relationship of a kind, yes," Spock said. Jim looked over at him, detecting a strange tone. Did he know something Jim didn't?
"That hand thing," Jim pressed, eyes locked on Spock's face for any reaction. Spock didn't give him the satisfaction.
"It is common for Vulcan couples to publicly acknowledge their relationship by the joining of two fingers. It is the limit of public acknowledgment of romantic affection in Vulcan culture, as anything more is considered quite lewd."
"Not like they'd care anyway, but then it wasn't really practical to make out everywhere during a crisis," he joked, feeling it crash and burn.
"Indeed.”
They walked in silence for a bit more, having made one complete circuit of the garden.
"Well, whatever the case and despite certain oddities, I find that you're a man of integrity in all universes, Mr. Spock."
Spock looked over at Kirk, and nodded. "I find the same to be true for you as well, Captain."
****
One month later - The Vulcan Science Academy
****
"The results for all independent research will be due by the end of this quarter. A computation set was messaged to all students this morning and it is to be completed by the next class meeting. End of session."
The students rose from their seats almost as one and filed out of the classroom. Spock busied himself with powering down the holoprojectors, then sat at his desk and checked the messages on his PADD. All of his students had turned in their daily computation sets from yesterday, and almost all had turned in their independent research projects that were due in two months. Before, Spock would have simply filed away the information and would begin work on supplemental material to keep his class engaged. Now, Spock found himself feeling yet another new emotion he could not name.
Spock and his team had been cleared of all charges put forth by Starfleet, the Federation, and the Vulcan Science Academy three weeks after the Enterprise arrived back on Earth. Spock had only been there for three days of court hearings before he had to depart for further trials on Vulcan. His last view of Earth had been of Captain Kirk, dressed in his black command uniform, staring inscrutably up at the shuttle Spock was occupying. The captain had given an almost impassioned defense of Spock and his team during the hearings. Even more, he had given Spock his personal subspace transmission code, offering to keep up a correspondence.
Kirk had sent his first message 2.8 weeks ago. Commander Stiles, Kirk’s rather close-minded first officer, had requested a transfer, and Kirk told Spock how Stiles now felt ashamed of his behavior, being that it was Spock’s counterpart, a Vulcan, who had voluntarily given up his life for the safety of the lives of hundreds of beings. Kirk remarked in his message, “I guess it’s hard to hate someone who has saved your life.”
Unfortunately, Spock did not know how to respond to the message Kirk sent. He supposed that he could simply send the message, “I have received your communication,” but his mother, upon being asked by Spock for advice on the matter, told Spock that Humans send these missives as a means to create conversation and a mutual dialogue. Spock felt illogically disappointed in himself for not responding at all, unable to give the original succinct reply or create a dialogue without a guide or prompts.
A half hour passed as Spock ruminated on these events. Realizing that he had done nothing even remotely productive and that this sort of thinking was more suited to meditation, Spock attempted to think of an occupation, but found that, though he had other things he could do, he wished to do none of those things.
"You appear bored, Spock," a voice said from the door of the classroom, interrupting Spock's musings. Spock realized that he had been tapping his fingers on the desk. He immediately stilled his hand and straightened in his seat. He looked to the entrance of the classroom and saw a tall figure wearing a dusty traveling cloak.
"May I be of assistance?" Spock asked, glossing over the stranger's observation. The man walked further into the room and lowered his hood. It was an elder Vulcan, and even though Spock was certain that they had never met, he seemed familiar.
"Actually, Spock, I was hoping to be of assistance to you. We have much to discuss." The man seemed to be waiting for Spock to do something. It was quite odd.
"Pardon me, but how are we acquainted?" Spock asked.
"The answer to that question varies, depending on one's philosophical and scientific beliefs. If you would accompany me to a more private venue, I may be able to enlighten you."
Spock hesitated briefly. A stranger wished to speak with him in private and refused to divulge details regarding his rationale for such a meeting. It was generally accepted that Vulcans were pacifists and that Vulcans cannot tell a lie. However, if there was anything he took from that mission on the Enterprise, it was the knowledge that appearances could be deceiving and Vulcans did not operate on the same level.
"You have my curiosity. However, I see no reason why we cannot discuss whatever we wish right here. The door, after all, closes shut."
Spock stared incredulously as his statement drew a slight smile from the elder Vulcan.
"I am quite aware of the function of a door. As sure as you are, in fact, because I am you."
It cannot be. But even as the doubt surfaced, he catalogued the stranger's features and compared them with his own. There was a 91.56% chance that this man was telling the truth.
"If you are who you say you are, then you know what questions I have."
"A shrewd response. I am you, Spock, from an alternate dimension. Specifically, I am part of the reason why Nero wreaked havoc on so many lives."
Spock's eyes widened. "Perhaps a more private venue is necessary after all. Where do you suggest we convene?"
*
Spock had not anticipated that the elder Spock would wish to travel far for this conversation. His assumption was proven misguided when he was led to a waiting land vehicle the Vulcan either owned or rented for this purpose. They traveled out of Shi’Kar, and Spock instantly knew where they were going; Vulcan’s Forge. It took fifteen minutes to reach their destination. They had to leave their vehicle 1.3 miles from the edge of the Forge, as the hazardous terrain had to be traveled on foot. As they walked, his counterpart related the fantastical events that led to his arrival in this dimension.
"When Vulcan was not immediately destroyed, I traveled to a Starfleet outpost on Delta Vega to warn them in case Nero was merely delaying the inevitable. I encountered Montgomery Scott and learned that Nero had been defeated. I was quite relieved at this turn of events and endlessly pleased to have an old friend, who had been deceased for years in my reality, relay the story in his customary boisterous manner."
Spock recalled the chief engineer aboard the Enterprise who had referred to him as the less-friendly Spock as they worked to construct the explosive that saved the ship. He wondered why the man had been in exile, as he was a brilliant engineer. His counterpart continued.
"I journeyed to Vulcan and found employment in a library in Raal. I call myself Selek."
"How did you manage not to evoke curiosity?"
"They were impressed with my intricate knowledge of the ancients texts of Surak, as I had studied intensely for two years with the masters of Gol. It was a simple matter to let them believe that I had spent most of my life in a far-off Vulcan colony."
Spock was shocked. "You say you studied with the masters of Gol, yet you have demonstrated a broad spectrum of emotions while in my presence."
"I studied with them-I never said I completed my training. There were…complications. That I was grateful for."
Spock lowered his eyes, taking in all the information he had received. There was no doubt that this man was who he claimed to be. Yet his existence was somehow even more disquieting than the other universes had been. The two alternate realities he had previously encountered all shared the same basic event; Nero destroying the Kelvin, then years later attempting to destroy the Federation, to varying degrees of success. This Spock was from a reality that shared little commonalities with any of the previously known universes.
At last they arrived at the mouth of the Forge. Across the barren wasteland in the far distance was Mount Seleya. They both went silent in reverence. This was the heart of Vulcan. His ancestors had passed through this forge for thousands of years. Inside that sacred mountain were thousands of katric arks, even the ark of Surak himself. Spock had prepared for years to undergo the kolinahr discipline, was destined to receive the emblem of total logic at that very mount. His mind should be at ease, should reach out to that edifice and wish to take his place amongst the ancients. Yet instead his thoughts spun in many directions.
Spock called forth the memory of that other Spock giving his Kirk his katra, making a human a living ark. In the few moments it had taken for the katric transfer to complete, that Spock’s telepathy had opened to those around him, and for a moment Spock had felt everything his counterpart felt. The emotions had consumed and shaken him to his core. Pain. Trust. Regret. Joy. Then there was one that outshone all others, one that had crippled Spock’s attempts at shielding, simply because he had felt it himself long ago when he was young and the strictures of self control had not been upon him. It was a half-remembered feeling, almost forgotten, and he’d tried to reach for it, tried to take it in again before the connection was gone.
“You must forgive me,” the elder Spock said from several feet away. Spock, startled, looked over to see that the man had moved while Spock had been lost in thought. He was now seated on a length of rock. “My legs are not as spry as they once were. You may continue.”
Spock collected himself with haste, shoving aside any disappointment he felt with himself as he floundered for a query.
"Why have you waited so long to seek me out? It has been well over a year since you arrived in this reality."
"Before, I had no logical reason to contact you or anyone else I knew from my own reality. Until very recently, when I learned that your science team was selected to serve aboard the Enterprise. I then heard rumors of the events of the mission, and I wished to speak with you about your experiences. I felt that, since you have knowledge of the existence of multiple universes, adding another one to your consciousness wouldn't cause you undue anxiety."
"You said upon our meeting that we could benefit from speaking of the events on the Enterprise mission."
The elder Spock looked steadily at him, then patted an empty space of rock next to him. Spock walked over and seated himself in the space.
"I also told you was that I may be of assistance. Speaking of recent events can bring mutual knowledge, a sharing of wisdom. More specifically, I am an old man. It is a symptom of age that memories and, by association, nostalgia, dictate one's everyday actions, whether those actions are an effort to relive those memories or somehow watch others relive them for oneself. In short, I find that I am prone to intense meddling."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Meddling?"
"You have met Captain James T. Kirk, have you not?"
"I have. Is he the subject of your intended meddling?"
Spock could not distinguish the emotions on his counterpart's face. His mouth was curved like he was smiling, yet his face was downcast and his eyes sad. "He is the subject of many a memory this old man would gladly relive again."
"You were close," Spock surmised.
"I was closer to my captain that anyone else in the universe. I knew his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes-his fears. I chose not to reveal my identity to you until now because I previously thought you were out of reach. You had your life here and it seemed that there was no possibility of any of that changing. Also, I had already altered your life beyond repair; it did not feel right to further change the course of history. However, upon learning that you had met Jim Kirk, it seemed too serendipitous to resist.”
"You are aware that the event log of that mission is under heavy security by Starfleet and the Federation. To access that information would require extensive hacking."
His counterpart waved his disapproval aside. "Your current technology is quite antiquated to me."
"This does not negate the fact that what you did was ethically questionable if not outright reprehensible."
He simply looked at Spock with a charmed smile. "You remind me of myself before joining Starfleet. Only, I don't believe I was so dull in my prickliness."
Spock's lips thinned in annoyance. "Have you come here simply to cast dispersions on my character?"
"I have not. I am here to offer advice, however illogical it may be. Spock, put aside logic. Do what feels right.”
Spock was rendered speechless. How deviated this reality was from his own. Put aside logic! He may as well spit on the face of Mount Seleya.
“You ask me to abandon logic, to follow emotions? That is impossible and not in my nature.”
“You misunderstand. I am not telling you to abandon logic, nor am I telling you to ignore your feelings. Instead, I urge you to be the best of both worlds, to know that you are both Vulcan and Human. Spock, the pursuit of logic is only the beginning of wisdom, it is not the end of it. It took years for this simple truth to occur to me. I ask you to put aside logic because it is keeping you from discovering all that you can accomplish.”
The words only gave Spock a modicum of comfort. He did not believe in what this Spock had to say. If he was to achieve this supposed “wisdom”, what would it make him? Like this counterpart? Alone in a world not his own?
“You are asking much and offering little motivation.”
“I have asked nothing. I have only given you advice. Since I know very well how much you are over-analyzing this advice, I am going to be practical and blunt: start small. Send your captain a greeting.”
“He is not my captain.”
The elder Spock‘s face took on a haunted look before clearing into the blankest expression Spock had seen him produce yet. “Forgive me, I misspoke. Come, let us meditate before the mount.”
next part
Author: bigmamag
Universe: Reboot AU
Pairing: Kirk/Spock preslash
Rating: PG-13
Relationship status: preslash
Word count: 4700/~
Genre: Drama
Tropes: au counterparts, destiny, friendship
Warnings: spoilers for the fic Refractions
Summary: After the events of Refractions, life is forever changed for one of the universes. Director Spock returns to Vulcan, but finds that his ordered and predictable life is no longer satisfactory. Captain Kirk is faced with the harsh realities of a potential Romulan war and the loneliness of command.
Note: First and foremost, this fic will make little sense if you haven't read Refractions because it's set in an alternate universe right after the events of the story. That said, holy hell has this has taken a long time to get out and yet, it's a dreaded wip. My first, in fact. I think it took so long because of my own anxiety and the fact that a lot of people were looking forward to it and I didn't want to disappoint them. I have an ending in mind and some other scenes written, so even if I fail hard and don't finish, I'll at least be able to prostrate myself before you in apology and give away the ending. Thanks to cicero_drayon, this is much more concise and not boring, and special thanks to bostongirl2003 for the final beta.
STORY IS COMPLETE, READ ON AO3 HERE
Now you can follow your gut
Or you can follow the past
But if you knew an eclipse was coming
Why’d you even ask?
-"Follow the Leader" by Matthew Ryan
Jim watched as their hastily-made explosive was launched into the core of the star burning on the time planet's surface. The Jim Kirk from an alternate universe was at the monitor that held the last image of his first officer and friend. Both of that Kirk's hands were on the screen as if he could reach out and touch his Spock across the distance between them. Jim stood back with the others as they quietly watched the scene unfold before them. Jim would not be able to tell anyone later how the others were reacting because he was too busy staring at the monitor, transfixed at the heartbreaking scene before him. Kirk was no longer screaming as he’d been moments before, but his eyes were desperately following any movement on the screen. Spock's skin was mottled green, an indication that he was slowly dying from radiation poisoning.
There was no huge spectacle or fanfare like Jim would expect to occur when three universes are pulled back into their respective places. Instead, groups of people, ships docked in the hangar, emergency medical fixtures, and design schemes simply faded away as if they had never been there to begin with, the monitor now displaying empty space and a now-rapidly diminishing star. The last thing Kirk saw disappear was Captain Spock, the strange Vulcan from that third universe with his harsh features and long hair, face openly expressing deep sorrow.
The sudden silence was jarring. Jim looked around to see that most of the inhabitants of shuttlebay had been from the other two universes. There were only a handful of officers left that had been witness to what had just occurred. Director Spock stared stonily at the screen. His gaze moved over to Jim, indecipherable. Somehow it was this look that gave Jim the impetus to move and perform his duties. He moved to the now-empty monitor, hesitating slightly before opening a frequency to the ship, oddly spooked over using it again.
"This is the captain speaking. The crisis has been averted. Through the efforts of a brave Starfleet officer from one of the dual alternate dimensions we have encountered today, we have all been saved. We are now on yellow alert until further notice. I want all yeomen to perform the necessary head count of the wounded and deceased for the ship's log. All available senior officers are to meet with me on the bridge. You have all performed admirably under extraordinary conditions. Kirk out."
Jim ended the transmission and let himself slump in fatigue. It was still silent in the near-empty shuttlebay, a mourning atmosphere. Several of his crewmen were dead; he would have to notify their families, give commendations, get his ship back into normal order and do it all with a command presence and confidence he currently didn't feel. He felt someone approach him, and he turned to see Spock.
"He was an exemplary officer," Spock said.
"It was...logical of him, I know. He did his heritage proud," Jim said.
"Yes."
"But I still grieve for him."
Spock had no response. They stood that way for a moment before Lieutenant Commander Marple approached them, one hand on his phaser.
"Sir, your orders?" he asked gently, and Jim suddenly remembered that Spock was still a prisoner of the Federation. It was extremely unfair after all they’d been through. He scowled slightly before reluctantly composing himself.
"You will escort the director to the brig."
Two security guards appeared and fenced in Spock. It felt horribly wrong, and Jim was struck by the urge to screw protocol and tell the guards to fuck off. It was unlike him, and he didn't quite know where this strong desire came from.
"I'll talk with Starfleet and tell them what you accomplished here today."
Spock looked steadily at Jim and, once again, Jim was put at ease. "Until then, I shall submit to your authority."
The guards walked away, Spock sandwiched between them. Jim left for the bridge.
*
Jim always hated when disasters like these struck. Even though they had come off triumphant, eleven members of his crew were dead, another twenty or more severely injured, but recovering. And then there was the looming political horror of Romulans infiltrating the Vulcan Science Academy and being armed with a weapon that could destroy a planet within minutes. The Federation, he knew, would immediately demand that any red matter still on Vulcan was to be distributed to Earth and other Federation planets, as the Vulcans were universally known as pacifists and were an easy target for destruction. If they were lucky, they were heading toward a galactic cold war. If they weren't, they were heading toward actual war.
Jim ran a hand through his hair. He was alone in the conference room after a briefing with his senior officers, and he was exhausted, having not slept since before the first red alert sounded. Nevertheless, his mind was running impossibly fast, and he had gone without sleep for longer before.
He switched on the terminal in front of him and hailed the bridge.
"Uhura, I have just spoken privately with Starfleet. The Vulcans aboard our ship can leave the brig and set up in our guest quarters under heavy security. I would like to speak with Director Spock in the arboretum, if he is amenable and only if he is amenable."
Moments later Uhura confirmed Spock’s acquiescence to a visit. Jim left the conference room to meet with him, wincing at damaged walls and broken circuits as he went. It was inevitable that his ship would undergo repairs as soon as they arrived on Earth. It was also inevitable that Uhura would smuggle him off the ship herself if he did not take shore leave there instead of overseeing the repairs. Jim had no plans for his shore leave, aside from some vague idea of visiting his mother and stepfather, at least for one day of the leave.
When Jim entered the arboretum, he remembered why he rarely came here. It was like coming home after being gone for months, but then discovering that someone had changed the lock codes, leaving you to look longingly through the windows at the warmth within. The smell of grass and flowers overpowered his senses, and the rush of water in the large rock fountain sang in his blood. Jim loved being outdoors, and the artificial garden made his chest ache with want. Coming here made him want to forget his duties and daydream of blue skies and open fields. There would be time enough for that in a week.
Jim spotted Spock by a large rosebush. He grinned when he saw that Spock was touching one of the roses, examining each petal, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. Ever the scientist, that one. Spock no longer wore the borrowed Starfleet uniform, most likely because he was no longer actively working on the ship. Instead, he wore a gray sweater that looked like his mom might have knitted it and gray pants. Jim didn't know how he managed to look regal in it, but then again Spock could probably look regal in a potato sack; some people just had that talent. Spock heard him approach and let the rose spring back, straightening as if he were standing at attention.
"Captain." Spock greeted, his hand going up in a V-shape. Knowing that he sucked at the traditional Vulcan greeting, Jim instead gave a lame half-wave.
"Director. Thank you for meeting with me."
"There was no inconvenience. After all, it is because of you that my team and I are no longer confined to the brig."
Jim waved his gratitude away. "You don't deserve to be in there and you certainly don't deserve a trial either."
"It is not a matter of deserving or not deserving. The Federation must be sure that justice is carried out and all guilty parties prosecuted."
"Still, it's a crap way to treat a guy who helped save all of our lives. I will, of course, be testifying at the trial."
"I surmised that you would be. Was this what you wished to discuss?"
"No. Walk with me?" he asked, already beginning to move. Spock matched his step, and they began to follow the winding path of the garden. "I actually wanted to talk about everything that happened. You know, the other universes and all that."
No emotion crossed over Spock's face, but Jim had a feeling that Spock was reluctant to discuss it. He didn't blame him; there was no easy way to talk about what crazy things your alternate self did or didn't do.
"What aspect do you wish to discuss?"
"I'm still sort of...freaked out about meeting myself in other universes."
Spock nodded slightly. "Quite understandable. The disorientation that has resulted from that event is still prevalent in my mind as well."
So Spock was freaked out too. Jim felt a tension he was unaware of leave his shoulders, and he began to let himself feel tired.
"I know it sounds stupid, but I can't help but compare myself to them. Our lives are so utterly different that there should be no comparison, but it's there, nonetheless."
"I too have had similar thoughts. There is little resemblance between myself and my highly emotional counterpart from the universe in which Earth and Vulcan were destroyed. His mannerisms are almost completely Human and are therefore alien to me. However," here Spock hesitated, his pace slowing just a little. "There was the counterpart from Starfleet. He had lived among humans for years and openly considered his captain friend, yet he maintained his emotions, performed the logical action. I have never known friendship, nor do I have the capacity to understand its purpose. However, it is the first time I have considered that it does not have to be a weakness."
Jim looked at him softly. "You don't have to be a Vulcan for that to be a revelation. I can't imagine being so close to someone that I'd react to their death as if my world were ending. I mean, I've lost a lot of crewmen, many friends, but I don't get close to anyone. My stepfather said that command is a great but lonely place, and I think he was right. I graduated from the Academy so young, spent all my time reaching these goals, trying to make a name for myself that wasn't 'son of George Kirk'. Now I've got all these medals and honors, and I'm the youngest captain in Starfleet's history. I've got the respect of officers triple my age. They tell me that in a few years I can become an admiral. Maybe then I'll find time to get some good drinking buddies or a family or something. But friendship like that? I can't imagine."
Spock fell silent, and Jim did as well, fearing that he had probably spilled too much. This is why he hated talking about these sorts of things, but it was kind of also why he needed it. He couldn't just sit down with someone from his own crew and talk about feelings-he was their superior officer and it just wouldn't do. But he felt safe speaking like this to Spock, and wasn't that mighty illogical, talking about emotions to a being practically free of them. It was likely that Jim was being this way because as soon as the trial ended, he'd probably never see Spock again, as they led very different lives. The thought saddened him.
"You have little need to compare yourself to your counterparts," said Spock. "You are quite different than them."
Jim snorted. "Well, at least I don't feel the constant need to kill things. And speaking of that particular you and me-they were dating, weren't they?"
"They were in an exclusive relationship of a kind, yes," Spock said. Jim looked over at him, detecting a strange tone. Did he know something Jim didn't?
"That hand thing," Jim pressed, eyes locked on Spock's face for any reaction. Spock didn't give him the satisfaction.
"It is common for Vulcan couples to publicly acknowledge their relationship by the joining of two fingers. It is the limit of public acknowledgment of romantic affection in Vulcan culture, as anything more is considered quite lewd."
"Not like they'd care anyway, but then it wasn't really practical to make out everywhere during a crisis," he joked, feeling it crash and burn.
"Indeed.”
They walked in silence for a bit more, having made one complete circuit of the garden.
"Well, whatever the case and despite certain oddities, I find that you're a man of integrity in all universes, Mr. Spock."
Spock looked over at Kirk, and nodded. "I find the same to be true for you as well, Captain."
****
One month later - The Vulcan Science Academy
****
"The results for all independent research will be due by the end of this quarter. A computation set was messaged to all students this morning and it is to be completed by the next class meeting. End of session."
The students rose from their seats almost as one and filed out of the classroom. Spock busied himself with powering down the holoprojectors, then sat at his desk and checked the messages on his PADD. All of his students had turned in their daily computation sets from yesterday, and almost all had turned in their independent research projects that were due in two months. Before, Spock would have simply filed away the information and would begin work on supplemental material to keep his class engaged. Now, Spock found himself feeling yet another new emotion he could not name.
Spock and his team had been cleared of all charges put forth by Starfleet, the Federation, and the Vulcan Science Academy three weeks after the Enterprise arrived back on Earth. Spock had only been there for three days of court hearings before he had to depart for further trials on Vulcan. His last view of Earth had been of Captain Kirk, dressed in his black command uniform, staring inscrutably up at the shuttle Spock was occupying. The captain had given an almost impassioned defense of Spock and his team during the hearings. Even more, he had given Spock his personal subspace transmission code, offering to keep up a correspondence.
Kirk had sent his first message 2.8 weeks ago. Commander Stiles, Kirk’s rather close-minded first officer, had requested a transfer, and Kirk told Spock how Stiles now felt ashamed of his behavior, being that it was Spock’s counterpart, a Vulcan, who had voluntarily given up his life for the safety of the lives of hundreds of beings. Kirk remarked in his message, “I guess it’s hard to hate someone who has saved your life.”
Unfortunately, Spock did not know how to respond to the message Kirk sent. He supposed that he could simply send the message, “I have received your communication,” but his mother, upon being asked by Spock for advice on the matter, told Spock that Humans send these missives as a means to create conversation and a mutual dialogue. Spock felt illogically disappointed in himself for not responding at all, unable to give the original succinct reply or create a dialogue without a guide or prompts.
A half hour passed as Spock ruminated on these events. Realizing that he had done nothing even remotely productive and that this sort of thinking was more suited to meditation, Spock attempted to think of an occupation, but found that, though he had other things he could do, he wished to do none of those things.
"You appear bored, Spock," a voice said from the door of the classroom, interrupting Spock's musings. Spock realized that he had been tapping his fingers on the desk. He immediately stilled his hand and straightened in his seat. He looked to the entrance of the classroom and saw a tall figure wearing a dusty traveling cloak.
"May I be of assistance?" Spock asked, glossing over the stranger's observation. The man walked further into the room and lowered his hood. It was an elder Vulcan, and even though Spock was certain that they had never met, he seemed familiar.
"Actually, Spock, I was hoping to be of assistance to you. We have much to discuss." The man seemed to be waiting for Spock to do something. It was quite odd.
"Pardon me, but how are we acquainted?" Spock asked.
"The answer to that question varies, depending on one's philosophical and scientific beliefs. If you would accompany me to a more private venue, I may be able to enlighten you."
Spock hesitated briefly. A stranger wished to speak with him in private and refused to divulge details regarding his rationale for such a meeting. It was generally accepted that Vulcans were pacifists and that Vulcans cannot tell a lie. However, if there was anything he took from that mission on the Enterprise, it was the knowledge that appearances could be deceiving and Vulcans did not operate on the same level.
"You have my curiosity. However, I see no reason why we cannot discuss whatever we wish right here. The door, after all, closes shut."
Spock stared incredulously as his statement drew a slight smile from the elder Vulcan.
"I am quite aware of the function of a door. As sure as you are, in fact, because I am you."
It cannot be. But even as the doubt surfaced, he catalogued the stranger's features and compared them with his own. There was a 91.56% chance that this man was telling the truth.
"If you are who you say you are, then you know what questions I have."
"A shrewd response. I am you, Spock, from an alternate dimension. Specifically, I am part of the reason why Nero wreaked havoc on so many lives."
Spock's eyes widened. "Perhaps a more private venue is necessary after all. Where do you suggest we convene?"
*
Spock had not anticipated that the elder Spock would wish to travel far for this conversation. His assumption was proven misguided when he was led to a waiting land vehicle the Vulcan either owned or rented for this purpose. They traveled out of Shi’Kar, and Spock instantly knew where they were going; Vulcan’s Forge. It took fifteen minutes to reach their destination. They had to leave their vehicle 1.3 miles from the edge of the Forge, as the hazardous terrain had to be traveled on foot. As they walked, his counterpart related the fantastical events that led to his arrival in this dimension.
"When Vulcan was not immediately destroyed, I traveled to a Starfleet outpost on Delta Vega to warn them in case Nero was merely delaying the inevitable. I encountered Montgomery Scott and learned that Nero had been defeated. I was quite relieved at this turn of events and endlessly pleased to have an old friend, who had been deceased for years in my reality, relay the story in his customary boisterous manner."
Spock recalled the chief engineer aboard the Enterprise who had referred to him as the less-friendly Spock as they worked to construct the explosive that saved the ship. He wondered why the man had been in exile, as he was a brilliant engineer. His counterpart continued.
"I journeyed to Vulcan and found employment in a library in Raal. I call myself Selek."
"How did you manage not to evoke curiosity?"
"They were impressed with my intricate knowledge of the ancients texts of Surak, as I had studied intensely for two years with the masters of Gol. It was a simple matter to let them believe that I had spent most of my life in a far-off Vulcan colony."
Spock was shocked. "You say you studied with the masters of Gol, yet you have demonstrated a broad spectrum of emotions while in my presence."
"I studied with them-I never said I completed my training. There were…complications. That I was grateful for."
Spock lowered his eyes, taking in all the information he had received. There was no doubt that this man was who he claimed to be. Yet his existence was somehow even more disquieting than the other universes had been. The two alternate realities he had previously encountered all shared the same basic event; Nero destroying the Kelvin, then years later attempting to destroy the Federation, to varying degrees of success. This Spock was from a reality that shared little commonalities with any of the previously known universes.
At last they arrived at the mouth of the Forge. Across the barren wasteland in the far distance was Mount Seleya. They both went silent in reverence. This was the heart of Vulcan. His ancestors had passed through this forge for thousands of years. Inside that sacred mountain were thousands of katric arks, even the ark of Surak himself. Spock had prepared for years to undergo the kolinahr discipline, was destined to receive the emblem of total logic at that very mount. His mind should be at ease, should reach out to that edifice and wish to take his place amongst the ancients. Yet instead his thoughts spun in many directions.
Spock called forth the memory of that other Spock giving his Kirk his katra, making a human a living ark. In the few moments it had taken for the katric transfer to complete, that Spock’s telepathy had opened to those around him, and for a moment Spock had felt everything his counterpart felt. The emotions had consumed and shaken him to his core. Pain. Trust. Regret. Joy. Then there was one that outshone all others, one that had crippled Spock’s attempts at shielding, simply because he had felt it himself long ago when he was young and the strictures of self control had not been upon him. It was a half-remembered feeling, almost forgotten, and he’d tried to reach for it, tried to take it in again before the connection was gone.
“You must forgive me,” the elder Spock said from several feet away. Spock, startled, looked over to see that the man had moved while Spock had been lost in thought. He was now seated on a length of rock. “My legs are not as spry as they once were. You may continue.”
Spock collected himself with haste, shoving aside any disappointment he felt with himself as he floundered for a query.
"Why have you waited so long to seek me out? It has been well over a year since you arrived in this reality."
"Before, I had no logical reason to contact you or anyone else I knew from my own reality. Until very recently, when I learned that your science team was selected to serve aboard the Enterprise. I then heard rumors of the events of the mission, and I wished to speak with you about your experiences. I felt that, since you have knowledge of the existence of multiple universes, adding another one to your consciousness wouldn't cause you undue anxiety."
"You said upon our meeting that we could benefit from speaking of the events on the Enterprise mission."
The elder Spock looked steadily at him, then patted an empty space of rock next to him. Spock walked over and seated himself in the space.
"I also told you was that I may be of assistance. Speaking of recent events can bring mutual knowledge, a sharing of wisdom. More specifically, I am an old man. It is a symptom of age that memories and, by association, nostalgia, dictate one's everyday actions, whether those actions are an effort to relive those memories or somehow watch others relive them for oneself. In short, I find that I am prone to intense meddling."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Meddling?"
"You have met Captain James T. Kirk, have you not?"
"I have. Is he the subject of your intended meddling?"
Spock could not distinguish the emotions on his counterpart's face. His mouth was curved like he was smiling, yet his face was downcast and his eyes sad. "He is the subject of many a memory this old man would gladly relive again."
"You were close," Spock surmised.
"I was closer to my captain that anyone else in the universe. I knew his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes-his fears. I chose not to reveal my identity to you until now because I previously thought you were out of reach. You had your life here and it seemed that there was no possibility of any of that changing. Also, I had already altered your life beyond repair; it did not feel right to further change the course of history. However, upon learning that you had met Jim Kirk, it seemed too serendipitous to resist.”
"You are aware that the event log of that mission is under heavy security by Starfleet and the Federation. To access that information would require extensive hacking."
His counterpart waved his disapproval aside. "Your current technology is quite antiquated to me."
"This does not negate the fact that what you did was ethically questionable if not outright reprehensible."
He simply looked at Spock with a charmed smile. "You remind me of myself before joining Starfleet. Only, I don't believe I was so dull in my prickliness."
Spock's lips thinned in annoyance. "Have you come here simply to cast dispersions on my character?"
"I have not. I am here to offer advice, however illogical it may be. Spock, put aside logic. Do what feels right.”
Spock was rendered speechless. How deviated this reality was from his own. Put aside logic! He may as well spit on the face of Mount Seleya.
“You ask me to abandon logic, to follow emotions? That is impossible and not in my nature.”
“You misunderstand. I am not telling you to abandon logic, nor am I telling you to ignore your feelings. Instead, I urge you to be the best of both worlds, to know that you are both Vulcan and Human. Spock, the pursuit of logic is only the beginning of wisdom, it is not the end of it. It took years for this simple truth to occur to me. I ask you to put aside logic because it is keeping you from discovering all that you can accomplish.”
The words only gave Spock a modicum of comfort. He did not believe in what this Spock had to say. If he was to achieve this supposed “wisdom”, what would it make him? Like this counterpart? Alone in a world not his own?
“You are asking much and offering little motivation.”
“I have asked nothing. I have only given you advice. Since I know very well how much you are over-analyzing this advice, I am going to be practical and blunt: start small. Send your captain a greeting.”
“He is not my captain.”
The elder Spock‘s face took on a haunted look before clearing into the blankest expression Spock had seen him produce yet. “Forgive me, I misspoke. Come, let us meditate before the mount.”
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