Fic: Kings and Pawns - Chapter 21/22
Title: Kings and Pawns
Author: jlneveloff
Movie Adapted: The Count of Monte Cristo
Fandom: Star Trek (TOS Reboot)
Genre: Drama, Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst
Characters/Pairings: Spock/Uhura, Kirk, Pike, McCoy, Gaila primarily & Scotty, Chekov & Sulu to a lesser degree...Oh, also Nero, Spock Prime, Sarek and even Admiral Barnett has a part to play...So pretty much everyone.
Beta: slwmtiondaylite
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4126
Warnings: Language, mild adult situations, violence and the occasional plot hole
Disclaimer: Star Trek and associated characters created by Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing at all. …which makes me all kinds of sad, ‘cause I really wanna borrow Spock for a while. Based upon the film The Count of Monte Cristo, written by Jay Wolpert (based upon the novel by Alexandre Dumas père) and directed by Kevin Reynolds.
Summary: In a Universe that has always known power and corruption, it is only a matter of time before the power takes over once again and innocent people are sacrificed. Spock/Uhura. Alternate MirrorVerse.
written for the LJ community reel_startrek, Round Two.
Author's Notes: This is my first...well, novel length story, so there is the chance that I may have plot holes...You have been warned ;)
This is also based on the film more so than the novel. I've never read the novel, but I am aware that the film diverted from it greatly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
REUNION
Spock quickly entered his quarters for the night, feeling overwhelmed. He had relinquished both McCoy and Pike to Scotty and his crew in one day and now all that stood in his way was Kirk. He had to admit, however, that his actions were beginning to wear on his conscious.
Gaila was right. This wasn't who he was, not really. He was losing himself to this cause that had overwhelmed him, edging closer to the point of no return. It was a frightening prospect. His father, would have been disappointed had he known the direction Spock had taken over the years, how he let his weakness, his humanity, overtake him.
Spock took a deep breath and held it, slowly counting to ten then slowly released the air. He was unsure of what will happen to McCoy and Pike, assuming he was still alive, under the watch of Scotty and his crew, but he believed that they will be dealt with in a manner appropriate and taken back to Command.
Spock took another breath, searching for his center, his eyes drifting closed. But a sound from behind shook him from his calm and he twirled around, phaser raised, ready to take down the intruder. Once he realized the intruder's identity, Spock froze.
Nyota…
She had positioned herself against the wall next to the door so that she would not be immediately seen when someone entered. She looked at Spock expectantly, with wide eyes glittering with tears in the darkened room. He swiftly lowered his phaser and restrained a sigh. He was much too tired to have a conversation with her; much too tired to lie to her once more. "Miss Uhura," Spock said, his voice alarmingly betraying his tiredness. "I thought we had finished our conversation in our last meeting."
She took a small step forward. "So did I," she replied.
"Then why...?"
"I realized that you called me 'Nyota.' Spock was the only one who ever knew my first name," she continued, almost smugly as though she had solved a puzzle that he had not been able to.
Spock dropped his gaze from hers. She was right. When scanning his memories of the night before, he realized that he had indeed slipped, unconsciously referring to the name he had always used in their time alone. And as a result, his cover with her was blown. There was no use in pretending anymore. Spock released a long breath and shook his head, dropping the phaser to the ground. "What do you want of me?" he asked, resigned. Mentally, he prepared for the chance that she was here to turn him in, an escaped convict.
Spock lifted his gaze and Nyota stepped closer, eyes studying his face. Her tears spilled over and drifted down her cheeks, leaving salty trails behind. Spock resisted the urge to run his hand over her face, to brush the tears away. "I want...I need..." She fumbled over her words and released a shaky breath. "I want to be able to move on from you, like you have from me. Can we talk?" She asked, desperation in her eyes and voice. "Just for a little bit? And then I'll be out of your life if you want me to."
Spock contemplated it. He had missed her more than she could ever know but he had never moved on, not like she apparently believed. But at the same time, he felt too emotionally compromised to be with her in the same room once again, talking like they used to while she was still a student in the Academy and he an instructor. But he had missed her. He still craved her, even if it could never be as before. Uhura continued to look at him, patiently waiting for him to decide, her eyes pleading. He caught her gaze and his walls crumbled. "Very well," he acquiesced, making sure his voice was still as to not give away his troubled emotions. "What do you wish to know?"
Spock could see her contemplating what to ask first. She walked to him and lifted her hand to brush his hair from his eyes. "Where have you been?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
He turned from her touch, to the window, the only source of light in the room. "I spent twelve years in the mining prison on Rura Penthe. And the last year anywhere I could before I ended up here on this moon several months ago," he recalled stoically, his hands clasped behind his back.
She drew in a sharp breath. "Rura Penthe?" she replied, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Did you..." she swallowed thickly. "Did you suffer?"
Had he been solely human, Spock’s reaction would have been to scoff or roll his eyes at her question, the sheer ignorance of it. She knew of the prison, everyone in the Empire knew of it. To ask such a question - did he suffer? - did she truly believe that he would fall for her act, her worry, her concern? Everyone knew of the notoriety, the torture that went on in Rura Penthe...how no one ever came back alive. It was not a place anyone wanted to be sentenced to. "Are you finished?" Spock asked curtly, suddenly wishing that she would leave the room. He couldn’t revisit those memories, how he lost himself there. "There is much on my mind. I must meditate."
She ignored his non-too-subtle attempt to get her leave. "What happened afterwards?"
"Much," he replied shortly.
She stepped between him and the window, forcing him to look at her. She spoke, her voice desperate yet demanding at the same time. "Why did you not come to me?"
"Why did you not wait? Why are you working for the man who sent me to prison, Nyota? Why are you with Kirk?" His voice was cold, hard. He was startled by the anger that had risen up inside. He needed to know, needed to know why she would do this, why she allowed Kirk to be near her, why she had agreed to follow Admiral Pike’s bidding.
Uhura grabbed Spock’s hands and lifted them to her face, placing his fingers on her psi points. "Feel me. Look into my mind, Spock," she said, her voice strong, determined. Her eyes locked with his, silently ordering him to do so. "I told you it would always be you," she whispered. "Always."
Spock allowed himself to briefly skim over her mind, feel the emotions that were dancing on the surface of her mind. Immediately, he was overwhelmed by her sadness, her concern, her happiness...her love for him. It washed over his being, surrounding him. Spock gasped at the intensity of her emotions, almost having forgotten the power she had always had over him. He stumbled forward slightly and she caught him, holding him upright. He leaned into her, his forehead on hers, her emotions overwhelming his control. It had been years since Spock had last touched another's mind in such an intimate fashion. The last time had been with Uhura as well, during their last night together before he was taken away.
Spock’s breathing increased and he felt his emotional control weaken while her control over the situation increased, her feelings growing more intense by the second. He began to feel lightheaded, the lack of mental connections with another person over the years having eroded his control, and he attempted to pull away from her, to disconnect his mind from hers, but she held his hands tightly, keeping them on her face.
"Please," Spock’s voice came out a mere whisper, shaky. "Please, Nyota. Do not take my hate from me. It is all I have left."
She shook her head against his. "No, no it's not," she replied vehemently. "You'll always have me. Your control. And Logic."
Spock jerked away, severing the connection, leaving him feeling cold in the sudden silence. "There is no Logic," he said harshly, "If anything had reason, then I would have never-"
His words were cut off by Nyota suddenly pressing her lips against his, her hands on his face, holding him close. Spock remained still, unresponsive, caught off guard by her actions. She placed several small kisses against his lips and across his cheeks before pulling back slightly, looking in his eyes. More tears fell from her large brown eyes and she lifted her hands, pushing his hair from his brow once more. She traced over his slanted eyebrows softly before moving to the side of his head, sweeping the hair behind his ears, her fingers gently caressing over their pointed tips. Spock watched her carefully, feeling overwhelmed by the situation, his restraint weakening. "It's okay," Uhura said, her voice barely a whisper. "It's okay." She leaned in again, kissing him fully.
The walls Spock had carefully built up over the years crumbled and he surrendered, giving into his desires. He responded to her kiss, pulling her closer against his body, his hands on her waist, caressing the soft skin just above the hem of her skirt. Their kiss increased in intensity, the distance, the time they had lost suddenly overpowering them. Uhura clung to him, her hands grasping his jacket, fumbling to push it off his shoulders. He allowed her to do and the sound of fabric falling to the ground followed. Spock wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tightly while his other hand moved to caress her face.
She pulled away from him and grabbed his hand, bringing her lips against them. Spock was unable to suppress a gasp when she kissed his fingers, stimulating his telepathic touch in a way only she knew. He navigated them backwards slowly, to the bed, his eyes on her lips, watching her mouth move across his fingers. Their breathing heavy, pupils dilated with desire, Spock brought his lips to hers once more, lifting her and carefully lowering her on the bed before settling over her. Uhura took hold of the hem of his undershirt and slipped her hands underneath, caressing the skin at his stomach before reaching behind and lightly drag her nails down his back. Spock growled into her touch, the feel of her eliciting his more primal urges.
But suddenly, she halted her movements and began to pull at the neckline of his shirt, trying to peer at his back. She had felt the scars that coursed down his back. “Spock, what…?” she asked, frantically pawing at his shirt, trying to remove it.
Spock grasped her hands in his own and pulled them from his back, bringing them to his lips and placing small kisses on them. “It is of no concern, Nyota,” he replied, not wanting to focus on past events but rather on satisfying their growing desires. Releasing her hands, he growled and pulled back, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
Hovering above her, balancing on one hand, Spock trailed his other hand across Uhura’s body, caressing the soft skin that was bare in the uniform she wore. He pressed his lips against hers; kissing her while his hand continued its journey downward, toward her thigh high leather boots. He felt for the zipper at the side of the boot but his hand collided with cold metal. Curious, he looked down and extricated a dagger that had been secured within her boot. He brought it up to examine it. He looked expectantly to Uhura, silently asking her its purpose.
"Just in case...some of the men tried to…uh…" Uhura shook her head sadly.
Spock quickly understood her meaning. "I will see to it that it is no longer needed," he promised and tossed the dagger to the floor, its heavy weight thudding against the ground.
"Spock," she whispered, drawing his face back to hers. She bent her neck and kissed him once more and he leaned into her, pressing her against the bed, allowing her to feel his need for her. She reached for his hand and took hold, tightly securing her small hand within his much larger one. Spock studied their hands, intertwined. Slowly, as not to overwhelm their control, he mentally connected with her, their emotions flowing over one another; their love, their longing, their desire.
Uhura whispered his name once more, her eyes begging him to make love to her. "Nyota," he responded, dropping his head and kissing the side of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly against her. She moved against him, encouraging him to continue.
Spock gave into her, finally unable to rein in his desires.
**********
Later that night, Uhura lay against Spock, her head against his shoulder and her arm draped over his chest, holding him tightly. Spock’s arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her, feeling her breath tickle the skin and hair on his chest. Their lovemaking had been intense, the emotions they felt for one another still as strong as the day they were torn apart.
Spock felt a peace he had not had in so many years, a peace that not even meditation could give him. He took a deep breath and turned his head, looking at Uhura. Her raven hair draped over her shoulder, fanning behind her, long eyelashes dusting against her cheeks, her dark skin so soft to the touch. Age had softened her body, accentuating her soft curves. She was as beautiful as Spock remembered. He released a quiet breath, reaching up to trail his hand gently down her arm, grasping her hand within his, holding her hand against his chest.
It would be so easy just to give in and give up. They could leave, run away together and leave Starfleet behind, leave Kirk behind. But could Spock move on? Leave the last piece on the board? Especially when it was within his reach? Could he leave?
It would be so easy.
Uhura sighed softly and snuggled closer, her hold tightening, murmuring his name in her sleep. Spock turned gaze to her face once more, so soft in sleep.
He released a breath. Quietly and slowly, he disentangled his body from her grasp and carefully left the bed, careful not to wake her. He quickly dressed and with one last look upon Uhura’s sleeping form, he grabbed his jacket and left his quarters.
If he were to leave, there were things he needed to attend to.
**********
Slowly, the morning light broke into the room, stirring Uhura from her sleeping state. Smiling, the events of last night washed over her, bringing her more happiness than she had felt in years. Her instincts had been right; her Spock was alive and here with her and last night they had made love, desperate to connect as they once had been, physically and emotionally. She stretched, reaching her arms out to the opposite side of the bed. While she found it empty, the sheets cool to the touch, Uhura wasn’t bothered. It was not unusual for Spock to rise before she did, he always had and in some way, it was nice to see that some things never changed.
But that was minor in comparison to the other things…merely something that attributed more to his Vulcan heritage than anything else. Uhura knew that Spock had been affected, that the torment he suffered from all those years in prison had changed him. The pain was in his eyes as plain to see as the horrible scars on his back; pain which would probably always haunt him. It hurt her to see him like this, lost in a world of hate, the pain of betrayal weighing heavily on him; his best friend helping lock him up.
Uhura had not been an innocent bystander in this either, having served under Kirk and Admiral Pike. Spock’s actions, his words, towards her spoke of his belief that she had turned on him and it had eaten away at him, making him question everything he had once known. She was not blind to Kirk and Pike’s actions; she had had her suspicions from the beginning, but could never act on them. Not if she wanted to protect what Spock and she had, what they had shared. There was still something she needed to tell him.
Uhura wrapped the bed sheets around her body, sat up, and surveyed the room, finding no sign that Spock had been there recently. She suppressed a sigh, having no idea where he was or what he was doing but silently pleading that it would not hurt anyone. She was still unclear on the details surrounding his escape from prison and how and why he was here. But maybe it would be best not to know.
The door to Spock's quarters swooshed open and the flame-red haired, blue-eyed, green-skinned woman Uhura met in the corridors two nights ago entered with a smile bright on her face. Uhura was momentarily taken aback by her state of dress. Gone was the skimpy outfit that had barely covered her body; in its place she wore a one-piece body suit made of thick material. Even in its unattractiveness - the red color was awful against her green skin - it looked gorgeous on her, hugging her body tightly, accentuating the curves that probably drove countless men and even some women insane. Against her better judgment, a part of Uhura wondered if Spock had ever partaken in the sexual skills Orion women were said to possess.
"Oh, good you're awake," Gaila said, her voice pleased. She looked around the room, taking in the scattered clothing that had been tossed carelessly in their desire. She turned her gaze to Uhura, her eyes widening slightly at her undressed state, clinging the sheets against her chest, and then she inhaled deeply. Gaila’s smile grew and she bounded to Uhura, throwing herself onto the bed. "Oh, thank God, he finally got laid!" she exclaimed.
“Um, hi,” Uhura replied, curious as to why she was in Spock’s room.
“I don’t think that guy has gotten any in thirteen years!” she continued as though Uhura had not spoken, shock in her voice. “I would have done him myself but Vulcans and their sensibilities.” She gave a large dramatic sigh. She reached down and picked up a pillow, tucked it under her arms and leaned over it, resting her chin on her hands and looking at Uhura expectantly, her blue eyes wide. “So, tell me, is he really as skilled as I suspect he is? With all those pent-up emotions and that sexy Vulcan allure? I bet he's good. He looks good. He looks like a fucking sex god..." Gaila drifted off, sighing dreamingly, her eyes drifting closed, no doubt thinking about Spock’s…allure.
Uhura felt her jaw drop slightly at Gaila’s line of questioning. Spock had willingly put himself in her company over the last year? Uhura would have thought an Orion's sexual appetite and pheromones would have driven Spock crazy and not in a good way.
Gaila suddenly opened her eyes and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I got carried away. It always happens when there's a ton of sexual pheromones in the air," she said sheepishly. "I'll try and rein it in."
Uhura gave her a tight smile, clutching the sheets tighter. "It's okay," she replied softly, still wondering what the Orion was doing here. "So...where is Spock?" she asked, hoping that she knew where he was.
Gaila perked up. "Oh, right!" she said excitedly. "That's why I'm here." She jumped off the bed and gathered Uhura’s uniform in her hands. "Spock wants you to join him later to..."
"Join him?" Uhura asked, curiously.
"Yeah," she replied, tossing the uniform on the bed. She smiled widely, clearly excited about the upcoming events. "He's going to leave...run away. Leave it all behind. He wants you to go with him."
Uhura gasped. Never did she believe that he would forgo his plan and run away. He had been so determined last night, desperate to get back at Kirk. She was unable to suppress the glee she felt at the moment and she jumped up, mindless of her nudity and pulled Gaila into a hug. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Thank you!"
Gaila laughed in response and after a moment, pulled back from the hug. She reached down, picked up the uniform on the bed and shoved it at Uhura’s chest. "Now, get dressed. We have to get you to your Vulcan."
Uhura beamed, taking the uniform. "I’m going to need to pack some stuff from my quarters," she said.
"Well, then, what are you waiting for?!" Gaila asked before giving Uhura a small nudge in the direction of the bathroom.
**********
Uhura beamed aboard the Enterprise to find the chain of command to be in chaos. Crew members were frantically scattering, upset about something she had no idea of. Questions to the crew yielded no answers. Perplexed, Uhura made my way to Kirk’s quarters, perhaps he knew what was going on; perhaps he was even the cause.
She pressed the keypad, asking for entry into the Captain’s quarters, and a few seconds later, the door slid open, granting her access. She entered the room to find it in shambles, items tossed about, littering the ground. Kirk was in the bedroom, hovering over a small suitcase, clothes scattered on the bed. Uhura could see that he was angry, his body tense, his breathing heavy. He threw an article of clothing heavily into the suitcase.
Taking a chance, she announced my presence. “What’s going on?”
Kirk turned to her, anger and an ounce of fear in his eyes. In all her years of knowing him, his cockiness, his brashness, his arrogance, Uhura had never seen him look fearful…until now. He looked caught off guard. He huffed and threw another article of clothing in with his belongings. He was in a rush to disappear. “It’s over,” he declared. “We’ve been caught. I’m going to be arrested.”
“Arrested?” Uhura asked mildly distracted, tugging at her uniform, noticing that she had not pulled it on properly in her haste to get to the ship to pack. “For what?”
Kirk sighed heavily, looking skywards, recounting the charges. “Um, let’s see, where do we start? Well, among others, there’s accessory to an unlawful detention, noncompliance with procedural rules, murder, conspiracy to overthrow the Empire, oh, and attempted genocide. It appears some of the damn Halkans managed to escape unharmed,” he stated matter-of-factly, not in the least bit ashamed of his actions.
Uhura shrugged. “You did all those things,” she replied.
“Right,” Kirk said shortly, turning to her. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“It appears that someone here is working for Starfleet. My money is on our friend Selek. Either that or we got a traitor in our midst. They already got Bones and are now ransacking Pike’s ship,” he said, arms crossed over his chest, eyes boring into Uhura’s. “Where were you last night?” She kept silent, ignoring his prod to get her to speak. Kirk released a sigh, turning back to his luggage. “Go pack something. We’re going to get out of here.”
Uhura shook her head. “I’m not going with you.” Her voice was calm, confident.
Kirk suddenly stepped away from his luggage and picked up a large bottle, throwing it heavily against the wall, leaving shattered pieces of glass on the floor. He turned to her, jabbing his finger in her direction. “Yes, you are,” he commanded. “You’re as much an accomplice to everything as I am.”
She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by him. “I’m not going,” she stated once more, reiterating her stance.
Kirk scoffed and stepped toward her, glaring. Uhura met his gaze evenly. He cocked his head to the side, studying her. “You fucked him, didn’t you?” Uhura raised her eyebrow at his crude words, unconsciously mimicking Spock, and stayed quiet. Kirk gave a derisive snort. “You’re a real piece of work aren’t you? You’ll play cat and mouse with me but spread your legs in a second for any other guy, huh?”
Kirk shook his head, turned away and went back to his packing. He slammed his suitcase closed and picked it up. He walked to her and hovered over her. Reaching up, he ran his hand across her face. “I’d say it’s been fun, but since I never did get to fuck you, that’d be a lie.”
He leaned down and pressed an unwanted kiss against Uhura’s lips. She pulled back, glaring into his eyes. He chuckled contemptuously and pulled away from her. He stepped around her and towards the door. When he was at the door, he turned back and issued two final words. “Goodbye, Gertrude.”
She grimaced. “Not even close.”
He laughed, the door closing behind him.
Author: jlneveloff
Movie Adapted: The Count of Monte Cristo
Fandom: Star Trek (TOS Reboot)
Genre: Drama, Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst
Characters/Pairings: Spock/Uhura, Kirk, Pike, McCoy, Gaila primarily & Scotty, Chekov & Sulu to a lesser degree...Oh, also Nero, Spock Prime, Sarek and even Admiral Barnett has a part to play...So pretty much everyone.
Beta: slwmtiondaylite
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4126
Warnings: Language, mild adult situations, violence and the occasional plot hole
Disclaimer: Star Trek and associated characters created by Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing at all. …which makes me all kinds of sad, ‘cause I really wanna borrow Spock for a while. Based upon the film The Count of Monte Cristo, written by Jay Wolpert (based upon the novel by Alexandre Dumas père) and directed by Kevin Reynolds.
Summary: In a Universe that has always known power and corruption, it is only a matter of time before the power takes over once again and innocent people are sacrificed. Spock/Uhura. Alternate MirrorVerse.
written for the LJ community reel_startrek, Round Two.
Author's Notes: This is my first...well, novel length story, so there is the chance that I may have plot holes...You have been warned ;)
This is also based on the film more so than the novel. I've never read the novel, but I am aware that the film diverted from it greatly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
REUNION
Spock quickly entered his quarters for the night, feeling overwhelmed. He had relinquished both McCoy and Pike to Scotty and his crew in one day and now all that stood in his way was Kirk. He had to admit, however, that his actions were beginning to wear on his conscious.
Gaila was right. This wasn't who he was, not really. He was losing himself to this cause that had overwhelmed him, edging closer to the point of no return. It was a frightening prospect. His father, would have been disappointed had he known the direction Spock had taken over the years, how he let his weakness, his humanity, overtake him.
Spock took a deep breath and held it, slowly counting to ten then slowly released the air. He was unsure of what will happen to McCoy and Pike, assuming he was still alive, under the watch of Scotty and his crew, but he believed that they will be dealt with in a manner appropriate and taken back to Command.
Spock took another breath, searching for his center, his eyes drifting closed. But a sound from behind shook him from his calm and he twirled around, phaser raised, ready to take down the intruder. Once he realized the intruder's identity, Spock froze.
Nyota…
She had positioned herself against the wall next to the door so that she would not be immediately seen when someone entered. She looked at Spock expectantly, with wide eyes glittering with tears in the darkened room. He swiftly lowered his phaser and restrained a sigh. He was much too tired to have a conversation with her; much too tired to lie to her once more. "Miss Uhura," Spock said, his voice alarmingly betraying his tiredness. "I thought we had finished our conversation in our last meeting."
She took a small step forward. "So did I," she replied.
"Then why...?"
"I realized that you called me 'Nyota.' Spock was the only one who ever knew my first name," she continued, almost smugly as though she had solved a puzzle that he had not been able to.
Spock dropped his gaze from hers. She was right. When scanning his memories of the night before, he realized that he had indeed slipped, unconsciously referring to the name he had always used in their time alone. And as a result, his cover with her was blown. There was no use in pretending anymore. Spock released a long breath and shook his head, dropping the phaser to the ground. "What do you want of me?" he asked, resigned. Mentally, he prepared for the chance that she was here to turn him in, an escaped convict.
Spock lifted his gaze and Nyota stepped closer, eyes studying his face. Her tears spilled over and drifted down her cheeks, leaving salty trails behind. Spock resisted the urge to run his hand over her face, to brush the tears away. "I want...I need..." She fumbled over her words and released a shaky breath. "I want to be able to move on from you, like you have from me. Can we talk?" She asked, desperation in her eyes and voice. "Just for a little bit? And then I'll be out of your life if you want me to."
Spock contemplated it. He had missed her more than she could ever know but he had never moved on, not like she apparently believed. But at the same time, he felt too emotionally compromised to be with her in the same room once again, talking like they used to while she was still a student in the Academy and he an instructor. But he had missed her. He still craved her, even if it could never be as before. Uhura continued to look at him, patiently waiting for him to decide, her eyes pleading. He caught her gaze and his walls crumbled. "Very well," he acquiesced, making sure his voice was still as to not give away his troubled emotions. "What do you wish to know?"
Spock could see her contemplating what to ask first. She walked to him and lifted her hand to brush his hair from his eyes. "Where have you been?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
He turned from her touch, to the window, the only source of light in the room. "I spent twelve years in the mining prison on Rura Penthe. And the last year anywhere I could before I ended up here on this moon several months ago," he recalled stoically, his hands clasped behind his back.
She drew in a sharp breath. "Rura Penthe?" she replied, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Did you..." she swallowed thickly. "Did you suffer?"
Had he been solely human, Spock’s reaction would have been to scoff or roll his eyes at her question, the sheer ignorance of it. She knew of the prison, everyone in the Empire knew of it. To ask such a question - did he suffer? - did she truly believe that he would fall for her act, her worry, her concern? Everyone knew of the notoriety, the torture that went on in Rura Penthe...how no one ever came back alive. It was not a place anyone wanted to be sentenced to. "Are you finished?" Spock asked curtly, suddenly wishing that she would leave the room. He couldn’t revisit those memories, how he lost himself there. "There is much on my mind. I must meditate."
She ignored his non-too-subtle attempt to get her leave. "What happened afterwards?"
"Much," he replied shortly.
She stepped between him and the window, forcing him to look at her. She spoke, her voice desperate yet demanding at the same time. "Why did you not come to me?"
"Why did you not wait? Why are you working for the man who sent me to prison, Nyota? Why are you with Kirk?" His voice was cold, hard. He was startled by the anger that had risen up inside. He needed to know, needed to know why she would do this, why she allowed Kirk to be near her, why she had agreed to follow Admiral Pike’s bidding.
Uhura grabbed Spock’s hands and lifted them to her face, placing his fingers on her psi points. "Feel me. Look into my mind, Spock," she said, her voice strong, determined. Her eyes locked with his, silently ordering him to do so. "I told you it would always be you," she whispered. "Always."
Spock allowed himself to briefly skim over her mind, feel the emotions that were dancing on the surface of her mind. Immediately, he was overwhelmed by her sadness, her concern, her happiness...her love for him. It washed over his being, surrounding him. Spock gasped at the intensity of her emotions, almost having forgotten the power she had always had over him. He stumbled forward slightly and she caught him, holding him upright. He leaned into her, his forehead on hers, her emotions overwhelming his control. It had been years since Spock had last touched another's mind in such an intimate fashion. The last time had been with Uhura as well, during their last night together before he was taken away.
Spock’s breathing increased and he felt his emotional control weaken while her control over the situation increased, her feelings growing more intense by the second. He began to feel lightheaded, the lack of mental connections with another person over the years having eroded his control, and he attempted to pull away from her, to disconnect his mind from hers, but she held his hands tightly, keeping them on her face.
"Please," Spock’s voice came out a mere whisper, shaky. "Please, Nyota. Do not take my hate from me. It is all I have left."
She shook her head against his. "No, no it's not," she replied vehemently. "You'll always have me. Your control. And Logic."
Spock jerked away, severing the connection, leaving him feeling cold in the sudden silence. "There is no Logic," he said harshly, "If anything had reason, then I would have never-"
His words were cut off by Nyota suddenly pressing her lips against his, her hands on his face, holding him close. Spock remained still, unresponsive, caught off guard by her actions. She placed several small kisses against his lips and across his cheeks before pulling back slightly, looking in his eyes. More tears fell from her large brown eyes and she lifted her hands, pushing his hair from his brow once more. She traced over his slanted eyebrows softly before moving to the side of his head, sweeping the hair behind his ears, her fingers gently caressing over their pointed tips. Spock watched her carefully, feeling overwhelmed by the situation, his restraint weakening. "It's okay," Uhura said, her voice barely a whisper. "It's okay." She leaned in again, kissing him fully.
The walls Spock had carefully built up over the years crumbled and he surrendered, giving into his desires. He responded to her kiss, pulling her closer against his body, his hands on her waist, caressing the soft skin just above the hem of her skirt. Their kiss increased in intensity, the distance, the time they had lost suddenly overpowering them. Uhura clung to him, her hands grasping his jacket, fumbling to push it off his shoulders. He allowed her to do and the sound of fabric falling to the ground followed. Spock wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tightly while his other hand moved to caress her face.
She pulled away from him and grabbed his hand, bringing her lips against them. Spock was unable to suppress a gasp when she kissed his fingers, stimulating his telepathic touch in a way only she knew. He navigated them backwards slowly, to the bed, his eyes on her lips, watching her mouth move across his fingers. Their breathing heavy, pupils dilated with desire, Spock brought his lips to hers once more, lifting her and carefully lowering her on the bed before settling over her. Uhura took hold of the hem of his undershirt and slipped her hands underneath, caressing the skin at his stomach before reaching behind and lightly drag her nails down his back. Spock growled into her touch, the feel of her eliciting his more primal urges.
But suddenly, she halted her movements and began to pull at the neckline of his shirt, trying to peer at his back. She had felt the scars that coursed down his back. “Spock, what…?” she asked, frantically pawing at his shirt, trying to remove it.
Spock grasped her hands in his own and pulled them from his back, bringing them to his lips and placing small kisses on them. “It is of no concern, Nyota,” he replied, not wanting to focus on past events but rather on satisfying their growing desires. Releasing her hands, he growled and pulled back, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
Hovering above her, balancing on one hand, Spock trailed his other hand across Uhura’s body, caressing the soft skin that was bare in the uniform she wore. He pressed his lips against hers; kissing her while his hand continued its journey downward, toward her thigh high leather boots. He felt for the zipper at the side of the boot but his hand collided with cold metal. Curious, he looked down and extricated a dagger that had been secured within her boot. He brought it up to examine it. He looked expectantly to Uhura, silently asking her its purpose.
"Just in case...some of the men tried to…uh…" Uhura shook her head sadly.
Spock quickly understood her meaning. "I will see to it that it is no longer needed," he promised and tossed the dagger to the floor, its heavy weight thudding against the ground.
"Spock," she whispered, drawing his face back to hers. She bent her neck and kissed him once more and he leaned into her, pressing her against the bed, allowing her to feel his need for her. She reached for his hand and took hold, tightly securing her small hand within his much larger one. Spock studied their hands, intertwined. Slowly, as not to overwhelm their control, he mentally connected with her, their emotions flowing over one another; their love, their longing, their desire.
Uhura whispered his name once more, her eyes begging him to make love to her. "Nyota," he responded, dropping his head and kissing the side of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly against her. She moved against him, encouraging him to continue.
Spock gave into her, finally unable to rein in his desires.
**********
Later that night, Uhura lay against Spock, her head against his shoulder and her arm draped over his chest, holding him tightly. Spock’s arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her, feeling her breath tickle the skin and hair on his chest. Their lovemaking had been intense, the emotions they felt for one another still as strong as the day they were torn apart.
Spock felt a peace he had not had in so many years, a peace that not even meditation could give him. He took a deep breath and turned his head, looking at Uhura. Her raven hair draped over her shoulder, fanning behind her, long eyelashes dusting against her cheeks, her dark skin so soft to the touch. Age had softened her body, accentuating her soft curves. She was as beautiful as Spock remembered. He released a quiet breath, reaching up to trail his hand gently down her arm, grasping her hand within his, holding her hand against his chest.
It would be so easy just to give in and give up. They could leave, run away together and leave Starfleet behind, leave Kirk behind. But could Spock move on? Leave the last piece on the board? Especially when it was within his reach? Could he leave?
It would be so easy.
Uhura sighed softly and snuggled closer, her hold tightening, murmuring his name in her sleep. Spock turned gaze to her face once more, so soft in sleep.
He released a breath. Quietly and slowly, he disentangled his body from her grasp and carefully left the bed, careful not to wake her. He quickly dressed and with one last look upon Uhura’s sleeping form, he grabbed his jacket and left his quarters.
If he were to leave, there were things he needed to attend to.
**********
Slowly, the morning light broke into the room, stirring Uhura from her sleeping state. Smiling, the events of last night washed over her, bringing her more happiness than she had felt in years. Her instincts had been right; her Spock was alive and here with her and last night they had made love, desperate to connect as they once had been, physically and emotionally. She stretched, reaching her arms out to the opposite side of the bed. While she found it empty, the sheets cool to the touch, Uhura wasn’t bothered. It was not unusual for Spock to rise before she did, he always had and in some way, it was nice to see that some things never changed.
But that was minor in comparison to the other things…merely something that attributed more to his Vulcan heritage than anything else. Uhura knew that Spock had been affected, that the torment he suffered from all those years in prison had changed him. The pain was in his eyes as plain to see as the horrible scars on his back; pain which would probably always haunt him. It hurt her to see him like this, lost in a world of hate, the pain of betrayal weighing heavily on him; his best friend helping lock him up.
Uhura had not been an innocent bystander in this either, having served under Kirk and Admiral Pike. Spock’s actions, his words, towards her spoke of his belief that she had turned on him and it had eaten away at him, making him question everything he had once known. She was not blind to Kirk and Pike’s actions; she had had her suspicions from the beginning, but could never act on them. Not if she wanted to protect what Spock and she had, what they had shared. There was still something she needed to tell him.
Uhura wrapped the bed sheets around her body, sat up, and surveyed the room, finding no sign that Spock had been there recently. She suppressed a sigh, having no idea where he was or what he was doing but silently pleading that it would not hurt anyone. She was still unclear on the details surrounding his escape from prison and how and why he was here. But maybe it would be best not to know.
The door to Spock's quarters swooshed open and the flame-red haired, blue-eyed, green-skinned woman Uhura met in the corridors two nights ago entered with a smile bright on her face. Uhura was momentarily taken aback by her state of dress. Gone was the skimpy outfit that had barely covered her body; in its place she wore a one-piece body suit made of thick material. Even in its unattractiveness - the red color was awful against her green skin - it looked gorgeous on her, hugging her body tightly, accentuating the curves that probably drove countless men and even some women insane. Against her better judgment, a part of Uhura wondered if Spock had ever partaken in the sexual skills Orion women were said to possess.
"Oh, good you're awake," Gaila said, her voice pleased. She looked around the room, taking in the scattered clothing that had been tossed carelessly in their desire. She turned her gaze to Uhura, her eyes widening slightly at her undressed state, clinging the sheets against her chest, and then she inhaled deeply. Gaila’s smile grew and she bounded to Uhura, throwing herself onto the bed. "Oh, thank God, he finally got laid!" she exclaimed.
“Um, hi,” Uhura replied, curious as to why she was in Spock’s room.
“I don’t think that guy has gotten any in thirteen years!” she continued as though Uhura had not spoken, shock in her voice. “I would have done him myself but Vulcans and their sensibilities.” She gave a large dramatic sigh. She reached down and picked up a pillow, tucked it under her arms and leaned over it, resting her chin on her hands and looking at Uhura expectantly, her blue eyes wide. “So, tell me, is he really as skilled as I suspect he is? With all those pent-up emotions and that sexy Vulcan allure? I bet he's good. He looks good. He looks like a fucking sex god..." Gaila drifted off, sighing dreamingly, her eyes drifting closed, no doubt thinking about Spock’s…allure.
Uhura felt her jaw drop slightly at Gaila’s line of questioning. Spock had willingly put himself in her company over the last year? Uhura would have thought an Orion's sexual appetite and pheromones would have driven Spock crazy and not in a good way.
Gaila suddenly opened her eyes and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I got carried away. It always happens when there's a ton of sexual pheromones in the air," she said sheepishly. "I'll try and rein it in."
Uhura gave her a tight smile, clutching the sheets tighter. "It's okay," she replied softly, still wondering what the Orion was doing here. "So...where is Spock?" she asked, hoping that she knew where he was.
Gaila perked up. "Oh, right!" she said excitedly. "That's why I'm here." She jumped off the bed and gathered Uhura’s uniform in her hands. "Spock wants you to join him later to..."
"Join him?" Uhura asked, curiously.
"Yeah," she replied, tossing the uniform on the bed. She smiled widely, clearly excited about the upcoming events. "He's going to leave...run away. Leave it all behind. He wants you to go with him."
Uhura gasped. Never did she believe that he would forgo his plan and run away. He had been so determined last night, desperate to get back at Kirk. She was unable to suppress the glee she felt at the moment and she jumped up, mindless of her nudity and pulled Gaila into a hug. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Thank you!"
Gaila laughed in response and after a moment, pulled back from the hug. She reached down, picked up the uniform on the bed and shoved it at Uhura’s chest. "Now, get dressed. We have to get you to your Vulcan."
Uhura beamed, taking the uniform. "I’m going to need to pack some stuff from my quarters," she said.
"Well, then, what are you waiting for?!" Gaila asked before giving Uhura a small nudge in the direction of the bathroom.
**********
Uhura beamed aboard the Enterprise to find the chain of command to be in chaos. Crew members were frantically scattering, upset about something she had no idea of. Questions to the crew yielded no answers. Perplexed, Uhura made my way to Kirk’s quarters, perhaps he knew what was going on; perhaps he was even the cause.
She pressed the keypad, asking for entry into the Captain’s quarters, and a few seconds later, the door slid open, granting her access. She entered the room to find it in shambles, items tossed about, littering the ground. Kirk was in the bedroom, hovering over a small suitcase, clothes scattered on the bed. Uhura could see that he was angry, his body tense, his breathing heavy. He threw an article of clothing heavily into the suitcase.
Taking a chance, she announced my presence. “What’s going on?”
Kirk turned to her, anger and an ounce of fear in his eyes. In all her years of knowing him, his cockiness, his brashness, his arrogance, Uhura had never seen him look fearful…until now. He looked caught off guard. He huffed and threw another article of clothing in with his belongings. He was in a rush to disappear. “It’s over,” he declared. “We’ve been caught. I’m going to be arrested.”
“Arrested?” Uhura asked mildly distracted, tugging at her uniform, noticing that she had not pulled it on properly in her haste to get to the ship to pack. “For what?”
Kirk sighed heavily, looking skywards, recounting the charges. “Um, let’s see, where do we start? Well, among others, there’s accessory to an unlawful detention, noncompliance with procedural rules, murder, conspiracy to overthrow the Empire, oh, and attempted genocide. It appears some of the damn Halkans managed to escape unharmed,” he stated matter-of-factly, not in the least bit ashamed of his actions.
Uhura shrugged. “You did all those things,” she replied.
“Right,” Kirk said shortly, turning to her. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“It appears that someone here is working for Starfleet. My money is on our friend Selek. Either that or we got a traitor in our midst. They already got Bones and are now ransacking Pike’s ship,” he said, arms crossed over his chest, eyes boring into Uhura’s. “Where were you last night?” She kept silent, ignoring his prod to get her to speak. Kirk released a sigh, turning back to his luggage. “Go pack something. We’re going to get out of here.”
Uhura shook her head. “I’m not going with you.” Her voice was calm, confident.
Kirk suddenly stepped away from his luggage and picked up a large bottle, throwing it heavily against the wall, leaving shattered pieces of glass on the floor. He turned to her, jabbing his finger in her direction. “Yes, you are,” he commanded. “You’re as much an accomplice to everything as I am.”
She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by him. “I’m not going,” she stated once more, reiterating her stance.
Kirk scoffed and stepped toward her, glaring. Uhura met his gaze evenly. He cocked his head to the side, studying her. “You fucked him, didn’t you?” Uhura raised her eyebrow at his crude words, unconsciously mimicking Spock, and stayed quiet. Kirk gave a derisive snort. “You’re a real piece of work aren’t you? You’ll play cat and mouse with me but spread your legs in a second for any other guy, huh?”
Kirk shook his head, turned away and went back to his packing. He slammed his suitcase closed and picked it up. He walked to her and hovered over her. Reaching up, he ran his hand across her face. “I’d say it’s been fun, but since I never did get to fuck you, that’d be a lie.”
He leaned down and pressed an unwanted kiss against Uhura’s lips. She pulled back, glaring into his eyes. He chuckled contemptuously and pulled away from her. He stepped around her and towards the door. When he was at the door, he turned back and issued two final words. “Goodbye, Gertrude.”
She grimaced. “Not even close.”
He laughed, the door closing behind him.