Arena - Chapter Two
Title: Arena
Author: whatshouldntbe
Universe/Series: Part Three of 'What Shouldn't Be' series, Reboot XI/TOS
Rating: R
Relationship status: first time, slow build K/S
Word count: 16000+ so far, 35,000+ overall
Plot: The demons of the past will always compromise the promise of the future.
Warnings: always!girl Kirk, angst, action, character death, language, references to past child abuse, rom-com humor, sexual situations, violence, possible amateur world-building
Additional Pairings: Kirk/guy!Rand, Spock/Uhura (terminated relationship), unrequited Kirk/Spock
Summary: During the last six months of her first year into her captaincy, Jim Kirk is forced to revist her dark past when a rumor surfaces around the ship concerning the suspected whereabouts of Governor Kodos.
Chapter Two
So that thing about her not falling asleep? Total lie. She actually does find sleep. She didn't mean to fall asleep, mind you. It just happens, as it usually does, when she is under a lot of stress and anxiety. So it's only a slight surprise when she wakes up lying facedown on top of Bones's desk. She sits up with a sniff and stretches all the kinks out of her body with a groan.
Bones takes that moment to exit his bathroom as a cloud of steam billows behind him. He's dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. "Mornin'," he greets as he uses another towel to dry his hair.
Jim just hums as she eyes him. "Bones-are you trying to seduce me, because it's working."
"No, I'm not," Bones replies simply. "I'm actually upset with you-but then again I really shouldn't be surprised. You went and stuck your nose in the whole Kodos mess didn't you? I saw what you were doin' on my PADD."
Jim flushes and straightens as she crosses her arms defensively. "I was just looking. That doesn't mean anything."
"It does when it's you," he retorts and tosses his wet towel at her.
Jim snatches it out of the air before it reaches her face with a frown. "So you just let me sleep on your desk? My neck is killing me now."
"Sure did. I hope you learnt somethin'."
"Yeah. Don't sleep on your desk."
Bones doesn't acknowledge her reply. Instead he plucks free some casual clothes and tosses them on the bed as he says, "You should head back to yours and get ready for the day. It's almost eleven, you know. We can meet each other in the Mess for breakfast."
"Not interested. I'm not hungry."
"You still need to eat," Bones insists as he throws her a look over his wet shoulder.
"Yeah, got it, Doctor McCoy. But I can't eat when my stomach's upset so bare with me," Jim says as she stands. "Besides, I need to pack anyway."
"You're staying on the grounds?"
Jim nods as she exits out of all the applications on Bones's PADD and clears the browser history just in case her CMO gets a little more curious about her activities.
"Guess this means I have to pack too," Bones grumbles.
"Why? Just because I am?"
"I will if you are. Besides, I wouldn't mind getting off this ship and getting some dirt under my toes."
Jim snorts and looks at him fondly when he can't see. "I guess I'll meet you down there," she says as she makes her way for his door.
"You just make sure you cover yourself in lotion before you go anywhere," Bones nags after her.
"Yeah, yeah," Jim mutters as the door swishes shut behind her.
She treks all the way down to her quarters and goes straight to her bathroom to hop in the sonic shower. When she gets out she rubs herself down with suntan lotion, then gets dressed in pair of navy blue overall shorts with a short white t-shirt that stops two inches above her navel, and puts her hair in a low, side ponytail, fishtailing the end. For precaution's sake, she straps a holster around her waist with her phaser, tricorder and communicator. She packs her hot pink duffel bag and leaves everything else. With bare feet, she makes her way to the Transporter Room and beams down to the surface of New Vulcan.
It's particularly hot and Jim is silently glad over her clothing choice.
As she treks over to the camps, she notices that parallel to the Vulcan camp, there is another camp that is smaller than its predecessor and Jim guesses this must be the human camp. When she makes it there, the quartermaster, who greets her warmly and shows her the blueprints of the camp on her PADD, meets her with a full report. There is a medical tent on the west and east flank of the camp for precautions sake, and the food tent is in the heart of the camp for easy access by all. By the end of it all, the quartermaster points Jim to her tent, which is near the far back of the camp, and with a thanks, Jim also asks her to inform her CMO about her whereabouts if he comes asking.
Jim's marquee is only half the size of Sarek's and Spock's. Not that she's complaining or anything. But there is a lot left to be desired. All she has is a queen-sized floor bed that already takes up what little space she has, and a small coffee table with stools and a work desk that is opposite to her bed on the other end of the tent. But again, it wasn't a big deal since she most likely wouldn't be spending much of anytime in here anyway. She tosses her duffel bag onto her bed as her communicator chirps in her back pocket.
"McCoy to Kirk."
Jim flips it open and says, "Kirk here. Go ahead."
"Change of plans. I've got some sort of situation that I need to sort out at one of the med tents. We'll have to meet up later tonight."
"That's fine. Just go do what I hired you to do," Jim replies with a little smile.
"Funny. McCoy out."
Jim snorts and snaps her communicator shut as she rubs it thoughtfully against her chin. With a sigh, she exits her tent and heads for Spock's. When she makes it to the Vulcan camp, she ignores all the curious and disapproving stares with little apprehension until she reaches Spock's tent. Thankfully, he is absent when she arrives, and she moves quickly to retrieve T'Khut's sketchbook and pockets the lotion. Without further delay, she leaves and goes in search for T'Khut's tent. Of course, by doing this, she has to ask around.
Yeah…that doesn't go well at all.
Some Vulcans just either glare coldly at her before moving on without the decency of a reply or stare at her wordlessly until she feels uncomfortable enough to bow out.
Jim is on the verge of giving up when a beautiful older woman, who doesn't look a day over fifty, approaches her. This woman is wearing dark purple robes with deep sleeves she hides her hands in, and she has eyes that are darker than unspoiled coffee. She is tall-taller than most of the Vulcan women Jim's seen by far, and even the men. Her grey hair is braided into two parts, and clipped off at the back where the rest of her hair falls into a long waterfall of curls that sway at her waist. She is a very stunning older woman.
"You are a singularly troublesome human," she comments as she looks down at Jim with apt disapproval. Her dark eyes are vaguely familiar. "Did your human mother teach you such appalling manners, or is your father to blame?"
Jim's jaw falls open and her body starts to quake with indignant anger.
"Calm yourself, girl-I meant nothing by it," she scoffs. "I wanted to demonstrate the way in which you were presenting yourself. My rudeness to you is equal to the same approach you displayed when tactlessly petitioning the location for the Lady T'Prisu's dwelling."
Jim closes her mouth and flushes in guilt.
"Judging by the color of your cheeks, I suspect that my explanation has pierced your thick skull," she quips tonelessly. "Now, if you have finished unsettling my people, I will answer your inquiry if you explain to me why you seek it."
"I-I have her granddaughter's notebook. I was only trying to return it," Jim responds and holds up the sketchbook for the intimidating Vulcan to see.
"I see," she murmurs. "Very well. It is fortunate for you that I was on my way to see the Lady T'Prisu on a certain manner. You may join me in my walk."
"Thank you," Jim says and follows the older woman. "My name is Jim, by the way."
"I know who you are, girl. As does the rest of the camp's inhabitants. Your golden hair and blue eyes is signifying enough," she brusquely retorts. "I am called Lady T'Pau."
"Lady T'Pau," Jim echoes as she puts T'Khut's sketchbook under her right arm. "I didn't realize I was being rude."
"This is obvious," Lady T'Pau says. "You are not of our world. You do not know of our customs. You are bound to fail in the aspects of social etiquette." She glances at Jim briefly. "It is unbecoming for a woman to petition her counterparts about another dwellings, being of no kin and no friend to them. If you had need of this information, you should have first greeted an individual politely, gave them your title, asked for theirs and inquired their health and the health of their clan. After which would be an appropriate time to request the whereabouts of the individual you seek."
"Oh," Jim says and flushes again as she thinks about the display she must have been putting on earlier. "I am extremely embarrassed for my behavior."
"Indeed," Lady T'Pau agrees, and it's hardly noticeable, but Jim can sense a bit of amusement in her voice. "I suspect you will not duplicate such a blunder. If you truly are ignorant to our ways, you may consult me beforehand. This way, you may avoid certain mistakes."
Jim blinks in surprise at the offer. "Wow. Thank you-you sure I wouldn't just be bothering you?"
Lady T'Pau stops before a tent and gazes at her coolly. "Vulcans are not familiar to this term 'bother'. There is no 'bother' in our vernacular," she corrects. "You are being exceptionally rude once more. I have extended an offer and you have yet to accept or decline."
"Sorry, sorry," Jim says hastily. "I accept. Of course I accept."
"Why are there no shoes on your feet?"
"I-forgot them."
"That is cause for concern. To forget such a simple thing," T'Pau murmurs unhappily. Raising the volume of her voice slightly, she adds, "You need not wonder why you were being given such speculative looks."
Jim flushes again and rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.
Lady T'Pau says nothing further and turns to enter the tent as Jim follows. She lifts her hand in a customary Vulcan greeting to a frail, dark-skinned older woman sitting on the floor beside a level table with a fruit basket and tea dishes.
T'Khut is pressed in close to her grandmother, her small hands are over her grandmother's wrinkled and shaking hands as she helps her grandmother drink the cup of tea.
Lady T'Prisu inclines her head weakly at Lady T'Pau before she eyes Jim curiously.
"James," Lady T'Pau says as she lowers her hand and looks at Jim sternly. "Greet your host, you uncouth child."
"Oh, sorry. Hello, Lady T'Prisu," Jim fumbles and does an awkward bow that makes T'Khut lips twitch as her dark eyes fill with laughter. "My name is Jim."
"I am aware of your identity, child," Lady T'Prisu remarks as her granddaughter helps her lower her cup to the table again. "My granddaughter consistently spoke high praises of you. In fact, had you arrived sooner, you would have bared witness to it."
"Grandmother," T'Khut hisses as her cheeks and the tips of her ears flush with a purple shade, deepening the color of her brown skin even further.
"Oh hush, girl," Lady T'Prisu gently chastises. "It is not my intention to cause you shame over your poetic waxing."
The flush on T'Khut's skin darkens.
Jim smiles softly.
"Come now, T'Pau. You and your young ward must join me," Lady T'Prisu suggests as she turns toward her table.
Lady T'Pau settles herself across from Lady T'Prisu as she makes a motion for Jim to sit in the empty space beside her.
Jim does and hands T'Khut her sketchbook with a friendly smile. "There are some really lovely drawings in there. I was really impressed," she remarks.
"Thank you," T'Khut murmurs as another flush creeps back onto her cheeks.
"James," Lady T'Pau reprimands. "You have not asked Lady T'Prisu if you may address her granddaughter so formally."
"Sorry," Jim says with a wince.
"It is quite alright. I will forgive you this mistake," Lady T'Prisu merely replies, and despite her vacant expression, there is definitely amusement in her dark eyes. "My, T'Pau. Such regard you seem to have for this girl already. I may almost claim that you have given life to this child yourself. You are always such a mother." She nods at her granddaughter and T'Khut stands on her knees as she carefully picks up the teakettle in the middle of the table. She pours a cup for Lady T'Pau first, then Jim.
"Do not jest me, Lady T'Prisu," Lady T'Pau coolly retorts as she lifts the porcelain cup, holding onto the handle with her right hand while her left hand rests on the bottom, fingers pressed together tightly and pointing outwards. "You mistake my interest in this girl for affection."
"Is it not?" Lady T'Prisu counters. "The rumor floating throughout the camp is that she is your espoused granddaughter."
Lady T'Pau tenses as Jim's eyes widen in surprise. "Vulcans do not gossip."
"Lie if you must, T'Pau, but you and I both know that nothing could be farther from the truth," Lady T'Prisu simply says. She looks at Jim. "And don't look so surprised. She is Sarek's mother, and Spock's grandmother. And by your connection to the little Lord, yours as well."
Jim is overtaken by an aggressive flush. "Does everyone know about us?"
"I would not go as far to say that everyone is aware, but more than likely those kin to T'Pau's house and acquaintances of her clan may have an inkling," Lady T'Prisu acknowledges. "T'Pau has given me the liberty of confirming the rumor in person, this is how I know."
"You are troublesome," Lady T'Pau remarks with a glare.
"And yet it is your choice to associate with me," Lady T'Prisu counters. "I have known you since you were in your mother's womb. You are fond of me."
Lady T'Pau does not deny it, but she does not confirm it either. Instead, she flicks her dark gaze over to Jim and says, "Do not be rude, James-though you seem to delight in it. Drink your tea."
Jim hesitates. "Um-I-no thanks. I don't want it."
"It is customary to drink the first cup given to you by your host," Lady T'Prisu clarifies lightly as Lady T'Pau looks at Jim strictly. "Drink what has been given to you and then you may deny my gratuity."
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but I-I really don't like tea," Jim explains vaguely.
"James," Lady T'Prisu says. "I must insist."
Jim purses her lips unhappily before she looks down at the mouth of her cup. Steam is rising from the depths of her tea, preluding to the fact that it is still hot, and Jim has to work hard to conceal her cringe. She reaches out with trembling hands and cups them around her mug. She swallows dryly as she lifts the cup with painstaking slowness as her hands shake all the more.
Lady T'Pau furrows her brow as she watches wordlessly before she lowers her own cup to the table and rests her left hand over the rim of Jim's cup to gently press it back down to the table. "Let the liability fall to me-she will share in my honor. I shall drink her cup so that it will not be wasted," she decides in a stoic tone.
"Very well. From your lips to my ears," Lady T'Prisu accepts with a curious gleam in her eyes. She flicks her gaze to Jim. "I do believe that T'Pau has just claimed you as hers. You are kin to her now. It is fitting to show gratitude in such situations."
Jim looks at Lady T'Pau in surprise but the elegant Vulcan is wordlessly finishing her cup of tea before she exchanges it for Jim's untouched tea. "I-thank you, Lady T'Pau," she says bewilderedly.
"Thanks are unnecessary," Lady T'Pau offhandedly replies as she continues to take graceful sips. "You will address me as T'Pau from this point forward."
Jim nods.
"Partake of Lady T'Prisu fruit. Unless you have an aversion to that as well," Lady T'Pau goes on to say as she lowers her half-full cup. "There have been talks. I have come to discuss the matter with you. The things I have heard are disconcerting."
"You refer to the gossip among the camps that there are those who have returned to the old ways," Lady T'Prisu surmises. "It is not uncommon for such talk or behavior in the wake of our ancestry planet's destruction."
"Indeed, but no less problematic. Logic will soon fail us if we return back to the old religions. Things are already unraveling-note the behavior of the young," Lady T'Pau says as she drinks Jim's untouched tea. As Jim finishes her banana, Lady T'Pau focuses her attention on T'Khut, who has been quietly sketching Jim from her side of the table. "The contusions you display are evidently not self-inflicted. I can only surmise that the cause is from petty quarreling."
T'Khut pauses in her drawing and does not lift her eyes from the medium-sized pad.
"You will answer her, T'Khut," Lady T'Prisu reprimands.
T'Khut straightens and she lifts her eyes to address Lady T'Pau. "Pardon me, Lady T'Pau. I-some of the other adolescents have been inconveniencing me," she admits.
"I see," Lady T'Pau merely says, but her lips tighten in disapproval. "There was a time when my own grandson experienced such unlettered behavior from those attempting to solicit an emotion from him, based on the imprudent preconceived notions they held about his paternity. Do not let it impede on your contentment. It will pass. I will have words with some of the elders."
"You have my gratitude, T'Pau," Lady T'Prisu says. "I have grown feeble in my old age, and I cannot move as freely as I once did in my youth. Your involvement is a comfort."
"Think nothing of it, Lady T'Prisu. I seek only to do what you would do in a similar situation if you were able," Lady T'Pau simply remarks. "Now, we have inconvenienced you enough. James and I will take our leave with a promise to return in the near future."
"Then I shall stave off death a little while longer in anticipation," Lady T'Prisu remarks with dry wit.
"Do not jest, old woman. Your passing is something I can hardly conceive," Lady T'Pau rebukes.
"Lady T'Pau is right, grandmother," T'Khut agrees with an unhappy frown. "You-are the only grand pleasure I have left in this life."
"Hush," Lady T'Prisu gently scolds as she strokes her frail fingers along the outer outline of T'Khut's ear with unconcealed affection. "In my age, I have little else to think on. But I will make no more comments on it, if it pleases you."
T'Khut's dark eyes go warm with a smile and she briefly touches her fingers to her grandmother's wrist in a quick Vulcan kiss.
Jim bites down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling at the rare and adorable display she feels lucky enough to witness.
"Let us leave," Lady T'Pau murmurs quietly to Jim as she tucks her hands into the deep sleeves of her dark purple robes and exits the tent.
Jim wordlessly follows the elder Vulcan out into the unforgiving sun, where she breaks out into a sweat once more. As they walk towards the southeast of the camp, she asks, "Lady T'Pau-can you please tell me where I can find Prime Spock's marquee? I have a prior engagement with him."
Lady T'Pau looks down at her neutrally before she replies, "I have requested that you address me by T'Pau. Please honor my demand." She waits for Jim's consenting nod before she continues, "As for his marquee, it can be found just thirty-six paces from here on your right." She then goes on to say, "Furthermore, to avoid confusion, we address him as Selek. You may address him however you wish in private, but in the company of others, I urge you to refer to him by this name."
"Understood," Jim agrees. "Thank you."
Lady T'Pau makes a thoughtful sound before she crowds in close enough that Jim has to crane her neck in strain to see her. The elegant Vulcan studies her unabashedly as she remarks, "You have significant appeal. It is easy to understand why both versions of my grandsons would be besotted by you."
Jim flushes violently.
"The older speaks of your praises, while the younger complains," Lady T'Pau notes thoughtfully as she takes in the bright flush spreading across Jim's face. "Yet, the fondness and respect they hold for you is clear. I am to understand that you are difficult and stubborn, but nobly brave and exceedingly intelligent nonetheless." She finally steps back and gives Jim breathing room. "Perhaps you will be good for our clan as Amanda once was. Though I will have to instruct you in the ways of proper etiquette if I am to allow you to escort me to various residences. Good day, James." And with that she disappears from sight.
Jim stares after her in befuddlement for two long minutes before she forcibly shakes herself out of it. She finds Prime Spock's tent with little difficulty. When she enters, she finds him sitting on a mat, eyes closed in concentration and hands clasped in his lap. She pauses and contemplates turning around so she can walk out and give him the privacy he needs.
"Do not fret, Jim," Prime Spock says without opening his eyes. "I am on the verge of completion. I need only a few more moments of silence to stabilize my shields. You may wait if it is your wish to do so."
Jim nods, even though she knows he can't see, and she walks to his level table, plopping down on the ground on the other side of it so she can face Prime Spock and watch him. She props her elbow on the edge of the table and drops her chin in her hand while she quietly waits for him to finish meditating. It doesn't escape her notice that her black hiking boots are under his table. She plucks free the pair of socks inside and unfolds them as she quietly puts them on, and then her hiking boots. It takes a little more time after that for her to properly lace them up.
True to his words, he unfolds his legs and opens his eyes a few moments later. His dark eyes immediately falls on her.
Jim's mouth spreads into a smile before she can help it.
Prime Spock's dark eyes go soft and warmed with a returning smile as his lips twitch. "You are early," he notes as he stands and turns away.
"I know, but-I didn't think you'd mind anyway. I was with T'Pau earlier and Lady T'Prisu. I returned her granddaughter's sketchbook. Her name is T'Khut. Maybe you know them?"
"Affirmative. They are longstanding acquaintances to our clan," Prime Spock confirms as he turns and treks back to the table, revealing a sizeable bag of Ghirardelli chocolate.
Jim perks up with an eager grin. "Is this for me?"
"Indeed," Prime Spock says as he opens the mouth and carefully slides it across the table. "But you may not take it with you. It is my intention to keep them as bait and use it to lure you here when it is convenient."
"Oh you beautiful, sneaky Vulcan-knowing my weaknesses like that," Jim purrs as she looks at him from under her blonde lashes while she pops a chocolate in her mouth. "And you know I'll come too. But I'd still come regardless."
"Call it supplementary provocation," Prime Spock rejoinders with amused eyes. "You mentioned running into T'Pau."
"Well," Jim says around a mouthful of chocolate. "I didn't run into her per say. More like she saw me behaving like an oblivious fanatic. She kindly corrected my pitiful social behavior and took me under her wing. We went and had a nice chat with T'Khut and her grandmother. And long story short, I now have the approval of the elder woman of your family."
"So it would seem," Prime Spock remarks, and again, Jim has a feeling she is being silently laughed at. "I have the impression you do not realize what T'Pau's status is among our people. In the days of old, she would have bore the mark of priestess. There is no equal term for the title by human standards, but it exceedingly noteworthy to us." He watches as she consumes another chocolate with a mystified expression. "She possesses a rather harsh temperament. To outside company, T'Pau can be rather callous and unforgiving of even the smallest blunder. The fact that she took to you so quickly is yet more proof you have a superlative charm that can penetrate even the hardest of hearts."
Jim flushes and tosses a chocolate at him. "Stop-you're making me blush. I'm not that great, you know. One of a kind, sure. But I'm not all grand."
"I strongly disagree, Jim," Prime Spock gently argues. "If I could compare your worth to the stars, it would be as they are-infinite in number and awe-inspiring."
Jim's flush deepens and she has to quickly swallow down the piece of chocolate that hits her tongue, lest she die from suffocation. "You are nuts if you think that," she mumbles timidly as she tries to hide her red face behind the bag of chocolate. She feels hot fingers cover her own and gently lower the bag from her face as she says, "Stop waxing poetic about me."
"Never," Prime Spock vows and unfolds her right hand from the bag so he can press her small knuckles to his warm lips.
Jim shudders as he whispers another small praise over her skin. She is about two seconds from climbing over the table and into his lap. The gleam in his dark eyes suggests that he is aware she might, and he makes no move to stop her.
But of course, that is the exact moment Spock enters the tent. He freezes at the sight of them and he goes a bit green about the tips of his ears.
Jim snatches her hand back and shifts guiltily as though she's been caught digging her fingers in the cookie jar.
"Pardon me. I see that I have intruded on a rather intimate moment. I came only to inform you and my older counterpart that I will be unable to join the session at the time we specified. I have a-prior engagement that will call me away for an undetermined length of time," Spock states stiffly before he spins on his heel and exits the tent.
Jim closes her eyes and sighs. "I should probably go and-" She makes a vague gesture with her hand before opens her eyes and stand. "Hold that thought."
"There is no rush," Prime Spock assures. "It was not my intention to create strife between the two of you."
"Trust me, there was strife long before you came in the picture. I'll talk to him," Jim says. "And if I'm not back for a while, well-the conversation may not have went as pleasantly as I hope it will. But I will be back eventually."
Prime Spock inclines his head wordlessly.
Jim smiles before she exits his tent in search for his younger counterpart. She finds him on the north side of the camps with Rand, and two male Vulcans that are at least a fraction older than Spock. They are dressed in twin metal grey excursion uniforms that must be standard for Vulcan officers, and they have deep-conceal holster vests outfitted to their chests.
Spock is outfitted in his science uniform with a holster around his waist with his phaser, tricorder and communicator. He also has a coffee colored nylon messenger bag looped over his chest.
Rand is outfitted in the standard Starfleet excursion uniform with a black knapsack strapped to his chest and a hoop of rope over his left shoulder.
"What's going on?" Jim asks.
"We are preparing for the expedition, Captain," Rand answers. "Commander Spock is spearheading the excursion."
"Commander Spock?" Jim addresses him in a tight voice and lifts her eyebrows expectantly. "What's going on and why wasn't I told?"
"It was my intention to do so. You were otherwise preoccupied," Spock merely replies as he gives her a vacant look. He clasps his hands behind him as he goes on to say, "It is our objective to pursue the water source located by the scourers commissioned by the Vulcan Council. They have requested me to sanction this location and analyze it further. With methodical adjudication, I will then elect the best possible route of action in terms of outlining the most effectual way of unearthing and deflecting the water source for accessibility."
"Understood-though it would have been nice if they had informed me about their plans for my First Officer," Jim says calmly, even in the wake of an unfurling spell of irritation searing lines into her chest. And though it's hard to admit, she is slightly worried. Call it a gut feeling, but she does not like this.
Spock says nothing, but he doesn't look as if he disagrees.
Jim looks at the two Vulcan officers. "What are your names?"
The tallest one says, "I am called Sefor."
The second one says, "I am called Kovar."
Jim nods and turns her gaze to Rand. "What are you doing here?"
"Curiosity?" Rand offers, and at the flat look Jim gives him, he clarifies, "It really is mutual interest. Plus I'm a bit of an expert on cartography. I overheard the conversation about the expedition and I offered my services to Commander Spock. He accepted."
Jim finds it strange, but not farfetched. "Okay then. But next time I'd like to be consulted about your volunteering. If something happened and I wasn't made aware of your acquaintance to the situation-it would be very compromising for not only you, but me as well. I need to know these things," she says and doesn't hesitate to throw Spock a pointed look. "Regardless of whether or not it was sanctioned by Starfleet or if I'm available to learn of the situation."
"Of course, Captain," Rand says with a sheepish grin.
"Good," Jim says, turning her gaze back to him. "How long will this expedition take?"
"No more than four days at least," Rand answers. "The walk to the North Mountains takes only a few hours. It's the climb up, and navigating inside the mountain's labyrinths that takes the effort I'm told."
Jim looks to Sefor and Kovar and asks, "Is this true?"
"Affirmative, Captain Kirk," Sefor stoically replies.
"And you didn't find anything else? Outside of the water source, I mean."
"Negative," Kovar says. "There was nothing of note."
"But it's not impossible," Jim supposes. "That there could be something else down there."
Sefor and Kovar do not reply, but they do not look at Jim unkindly. They glance away from her and to each other before they aim their gaze forward again.
It's odd.
"All that water and nothing," Jim contemplates aloud. It doesn't seem right. She adds, "I'm coming. I'd like to see for myself as well."
Spock stiffens.
"We do not require your assistance," Sefor states.
"We have need of only your First Officer," Kovar adds.
"No, I get that," Jim replies, and ignores the part of her that is in a fret over the thought that something could happen to Rand and Spock if she is not there to be sure over their safety. She is responsible for them after all. "But I won't be in the way. Call it curiosity, but I think I'm going to tag along."
Spock protests, "Captain, that would be unwise. The risk could be-"
"Just the same if I let the four of you go," Jim coolly interjects. "What's one more person? Besides, I'm not completely helpless. I've taken a few excursion courses. My knowledge is basic but I'm a fast learner."
"I must object, Captain," Spock insists. "You are not suitably equipped."
"I hear what you're saying, but no. I'm going," Jim maintains, because her gut is telling her to. "I understand the caution, but I'll be fine as long as I'm careful. And I know I don't have much of anything but I've survived on less before."
"Captain, I must insist that you remain here."
Jim stares at him and says, "Is that an order, Commander?"
"It is a strong suggestion," Spock returns, leveling her stare with his own.
"Noted. But I'm coming." Jim says with a tone that lets them all know she won't change her mind. "Now, we're wasting daylight by squabbling. We might as well get moving." She looks to Sefor and Kovar. "Please lead the way."
Sefor and Kovar flick their gazes to Spock, then away, before they turn and start a trek towards the North Mountain.
Rand turns on his PADD and begins tracing shapes into it with his stylus pen as he follows the two Vulcan officers.
Jim waits a moment or two before she follows as well. She waits for Spock to match her pace before she says, "We need to talk about earlier."
"Earlier, Captain?"
"The little moment you walked in between older you and I. That," Jim clarifies.
"It is of no importance," Spock decides. He waits a moment longer before he adds, "Though I can fathom how the link between us became so effortlessly formed."
"What does that mean?" Jim scoffs, hackles rising as she glares at him. "Because I have to say that I don't like what you're hinting at about me."
"I am merely proposing that you are simply more prone to his lure when in privacy," Spock clarifies, and the disapproval in his tone is obvious.
Jim snorts bitterly. "Yeah, because I'm such a young and untried woman who falls flat on her back at the slightest bit of flattery," she drawls sarcastically.
"I do not think that of you," Spock brusquely states. "Despite your blatant goading and antagonizing-my view of you remains deferential."
That quiets Jim right up. She purses her lips and crosses her arms. "I'm not sorry," she mutters stubbornly.
"I have not asked you to be," Spock counters evenly.
"Well good," Jim scoffs. "Because I'm not. And I think you suck."
"Acknowledged," Spock tersely replies.
Jim purses her lips again as their trek to the North Mountains becomes a sullenly silent one. "Will you just say something about me?" she finally snaps.
Spock's brow furrows. "I have said all that I intended to on the matter."
"No-that's not how you argue. You don't just let me say what I want and you accept it. You have to say the things about me that you don't like," Jim fusses. "Arguing with you is just like yelling at a helpless puppy, I swear."
"I would prefer if you did not swear in regards to that statement," Spock says with an unhappy frown.
"And?" Jim presses.
"And I find you exceptionally rude."
"And?"
"Childish."
"And?"
"Vexing."
Jim feels her lips twitch helplessly and she tries to stall the amused grin eating at her mouth. "And?"
"I would not be averse to the thought of outranking you in order for you to listen and consider my advice more carefully. Were I captain, you would have stayed put at the camps and I would not have to worry about your wellbeing," Spock admits carefully.
"Yeah, well, I don't like the thought of something happening to you while I'm not near to stop it from happening," Jim confesses. "You frustrate me, but I would never see you harmed. Like I said. You're a puppy to me. My pointy-eared puppy."
"I dislike that analogy," Spock reproves. "Furthermore, you are not suitably dressed for this excursion. Yeomen Rand skims your attire in five minute intervals."
Jim blinks in surprise as a grin overtakes her lips. "Really? Every five minutes?"
"Affirmative," Spock informally confirms. "If you wait thirty seconds you will bare witness to this."
Jim chews on her bottom lip as she waits-but true to his word, Rand glances back at her and flushes when he notices that she's caught him, quickly turning away and hunching down to make himself seem small. "Ha. Okay. I'll let you have that one. But come on-what I'm wearing cant be that bad."
"I do not believe I stated this," Spock impassively returns. "I said that it was ill-suited to the task we are attempting to accomplish. Yeomen Rand's work efficiency has lowered twenty-five percent since your arrival, but it is not a major forfeiture."
"You think he likes me," Jim teases. "Which I already knew, but, it's just amusing to see you notice it. You're like my little pointy-eared puppy chaperone."
"Jim, I must ask you to refrain from comparing me to animals. It is offensive."
"I'm still not sorry."
"Then you are still vexing."
"Good. I'm glad. I want to get on your nerves because as my friend, you deserve the privilege," Jim remarks.
"A curious ideology," Spock states with a lifted brow.
"So what else? I know you've got more to say and I want to hear it." Jim stumbles over a rock. With the steady approach of the mountain, the rocks increase in size.
"I am not comfortable with you conversing so intimately with my older counterpart," Spock announces as his hands clench and unclench at his sides. "It is slightly-I do not like it."
"I'm not going to have sex with him if that's what you're worried about," Jim amusedly assures. "I just-there's something about him. I don't know. When we're alone, I just-I feel so-" She pauses with a blush as she wraps her arms around herself.
Spock cocks his head as they continue their walk and he flicks his dark gaze to her. "What is it?"
"Wanted," Jim admits reluctantly. "He makes me feel like I'm something just-worthy, you know? I don't feel like that. I don't-feel worthy of much when it comes to love and affection." She takes a moment to give a jerky shrug. "I'm a gorgeous woman. I know. But that's all anyone else will ever know. They can't see what's behind this face because I don't want them to. It's a horror story in wait. But when I'm with him he just knows me, and he still-it's hard not to believe the things he says about me. He does love me, all versions, and I think that's amazing really. It's not a physical desire. I just-I kind of hate the thought that he's alone and I know his James died and I can't replace him but I can-I don't know-I can be a friend. I don't need or want it to be more than that. And-oh my god I am just ranting and raving on and on. And you let me do that," she accuses as she pats her red cheeks.
Spock is quiet for a long moment. He must be processing her words. His gaze stays forward as he says, "You are a uniquely difficult individual. But you are not without your charms. He has years of experiencing a paralleled version of you in both the good and the bad. It would not be beyond my older counterpart to have developed an appreciation for the person you are and will become."
Jim sighs heavily and shakes her head. "I don't know if you know this, Spock-but I stopped liking myself a long time ago. And it's hard for me to think otherwise about myself. I don't know what I'll be five years from now or even two weeks from now. All I know is that I'm trying my best. I am trying so very hard to be someone that even I like. And I have my little episodes from time to time, but-I don't know. I'm just here doing what I can."
"I find that I am conflicted at times," Spock warily divulges. "But it is a universal feat, I believe, that every life-form comes to know some difficulty in the midst of their existence. The best way to counter them, however, is to remember that we can only learn from those moments, which temper us. Do not expect of yourself more than you are able to achieve."
"That is some sound advice," Jim marvels with speculative smile. "Why don't I listen to you more often?"
"I have frequently pondered this as well," Spock retorts dryly as he flicks his gaze to her and lifts his brow. "But I have also come to value your tenacity-you are often correct in your assumptions as well."
"It's called instinct, and I use it more than I do my intellect, which I'm not saying is a bad thing to do. But sometimes, I think it is good to be more logical about things then instinctive," she concedes. "That's why I need you. You frustrating Vulcan. You make me edgy but I need you. You're a good friend and I can't see my life without you."
Spock stiffens and there is a light tinge of green dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "I-return the sentiment," he yields reluctantly.
Jim snorts amusedly at her emotionally stunted First Officer. She has the deepest urge to keep pestering and teasing him until he's flushed from head to toe, but she's not such a jerk all the time. She pushes the urge back and keeps to herself, silently observing their surroundings with interest.
The sun is bright and persistent, which leads Jim to continually wipe the sweat from her brow, lest she wants to feel the salty sting in her eyes. The only person who makes noise is Rand, and much to her amusement, it's humming-the humming of show tunes that is. A lot of them are unfamiliar to her but there is a handful she recognizes. When she glances over to Spock, she notices the way he lifts his eyebrow in inquiry towards the back of Rand's oblivious head.
Sefor and Kovar keep up a steady march, barely turning or cocking their heads in any other direction besides their intended destination. They keep their hands clasped behind them against their lower back. Their paces also match.
Jim jams her hands in the front pockets of her navy overall shorts as a gust of dry air loops around her partially bare navel, arms, and legs. She glances up at the blue sky, and briefly searches out her ship before she lowers her gaze to the North Mountains. They are huge, beastly things-red and unevenly molded up to pointed tips. It reminds her of a red Mount Kilimanjaro. The base of the mountain is a tomato red, and as the rocks elevate, the color dulls off into a terracotta color. As she looks on with continuing interest, she notices how the ground that expands out from the North Mountains are crackling off into brownish red mud clay textures, with sizeable rocks littering random areas.
Jim frowns as her brain kicks into high gear.
By the time they reach the base of the North Mountain, it's already nightfall and it's unanimously decided that they will just stop and make camp.
It's a safer climb in the daylight hours.
Jim makes a fire using clay and stones and a bit of extra rope and the laser setting on her tricorder and it is glorious how baffled everyone is at her ability to do it. Not all the tricks she learns from Tarsus are bad ones.
Not long after that, Sefor and Kovar do not stick around to make camp with them. They explain that they must seek out a suitable place to begin the climb and lower the risk of danger as much as marginally possible. They separate-Sefor heads east and Kovar heads wet-and they begin their treks along the base of the mountain.
Jim sits beside Rand as Spock sits on the other side of the fire, working quietly and efficiently on his PADD. "So why is the mountain so steep?" she asks and turns to fully face Rand.
Rand stores his PADD away as he says, "That's a good question. I think it has to do a lot with the mantle erosion. It'll take at least a day to get to workable grounds where we can just trek upwards instead of climbing. I mean, no one has mentioned feeling any tremors. Yet the base of the mountain seems to be pushing outwards, as though it's being forced in this general direction. It's probably something that happens every century."
"10 mm/year at most," Spock clarifies without looking up from his PADD, the little intellectual multi-tasker. "The tectonic forces will have pushed the North Mountains up by as much as 25 kilometers. The amount of structural relief is 35,000 feet, which indicates a rate of uplift of 4.5 inches per hundred years."
Rand's eyebrows lift in captivation by such thoroughness. He looks at Jim with the same baffled expression.
"Yeah, he does that," Jim explains with a fondly entertained smile. "He's so much fun at parties."
Spock briefly glances at Jim before he returns his gaze back down to his PADD.
The message in that look does not elude Jim in the slightest and it makes her smile widen in amusement. She turns to Rand and says, "So did you claim your throne?"
Part 2
Author: whatshouldntbe
Universe/Series: Part Three of 'What Shouldn't Be' series, Reboot XI/TOS
Rating: R
Relationship status: first time, slow build K/S
Word count: 16000+ so far, 35,000+ overall
Plot: The demons of the past will always compromise the promise of the future.
Warnings: always!girl Kirk, angst, action, character death, language, references to past child abuse, rom-com humor, sexual situations, violence, possible amateur world-building
Additional Pairings: Kirk/guy!Rand, Spock/Uhura (terminated relationship), unrequited Kirk/Spock
Summary: During the last six months of her first year into her captaincy, Jim Kirk is forced to revist her dark past when a rumor surfaces around the ship concerning the suspected whereabouts of Governor Kodos.
Chapter Two
So that thing about her not falling asleep? Total lie. She actually does find sleep. She didn't mean to fall asleep, mind you. It just happens, as it usually does, when she is under a lot of stress and anxiety. So it's only a slight surprise when she wakes up lying facedown on top of Bones's desk. She sits up with a sniff and stretches all the kinks out of her body with a groan.
Bones takes that moment to exit his bathroom as a cloud of steam billows behind him. He's dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. "Mornin'," he greets as he uses another towel to dry his hair.
Jim just hums as she eyes him. "Bones-are you trying to seduce me, because it's working."
"No, I'm not," Bones replies simply. "I'm actually upset with you-but then again I really shouldn't be surprised. You went and stuck your nose in the whole Kodos mess didn't you? I saw what you were doin' on my PADD."
Jim flushes and straightens as she crosses her arms defensively. "I was just looking. That doesn't mean anything."
"It does when it's you," he retorts and tosses his wet towel at her.
Jim snatches it out of the air before it reaches her face with a frown. "So you just let me sleep on your desk? My neck is killing me now."
"Sure did. I hope you learnt somethin'."
"Yeah. Don't sleep on your desk."
Bones doesn't acknowledge her reply. Instead he plucks free some casual clothes and tosses them on the bed as he says, "You should head back to yours and get ready for the day. It's almost eleven, you know. We can meet each other in the Mess for breakfast."
"Not interested. I'm not hungry."
"You still need to eat," Bones insists as he throws her a look over his wet shoulder.
"Yeah, got it, Doctor McCoy. But I can't eat when my stomach's upset so bare with me," Jim says as she stands. "Besides, I need to pack anyway."
"You're staying on the grounds?"
Jim nods as she exits out of all the applications on Bones's PADD and clears the browser history just in case her CMO gets a little more curious about her activities.
"Guess this means I have to pack too," Bones grumbles.
"Why? Just because I am?"
"I will if you are. Besides, I wouldn't mind getting off this ship and getting some dirt under my toes."
Jim snorts and looks at him fondly when he can't see. "I guess I'll meet you down there," she says as she makes her way for his door.
"You just make sure you cover yourself in lotion before you go anywhere," Bones nags after her.
"Yeah, yeah," Jim mutters as the door swishes shut behind her.
She treks all the way down to her quarters and goes straight to her bathroom to hop in the sonic shower. When she gets out she rubs herself down with suntan lotion, then gets dressed in pair of navy blue overall shorts with a short white t-shirt that stops two inches above her navel, and puts her hair in a low, side ponytail, fishtailing the end. For precaution's sake, she straps a holster around her waist with her phaser, tricorder and communicator. She packs her hot pink duffel bag and leaves everything else. With bare feet, she makes her way to the Transporter Room and beams down to the surface of New Vulcan.
It's particularly hot and Jim is silently glad over her clothing choice.
As she treks over to the camps, she notices that parallel to the Vulcan camp, there is another camp that is smaller than its predecessor and Jim guesses this must be the human camp. When she makes it there, the quartermaster, who greets her warmly and shows her the blueprints of the camp on her PADD, meets her with a full report. There is a medical tent on the west and east flank of the camp for precautions sake, and the food tent is in the heart of the camp for easy access by all. By the end of it all, the quartermaster points Jim to her tent, which is near the far back of the camp, and with a thanks, Jim also asks her to inform her CMO about her whereabouts if he comes asking.
Jim's marquee is only half the size of Sarek's and Spock's. Not that she's complaining or anything. But there is a lot left to be desired. All she has is a queen-sized floor bed that already takes up what little space she has, and a small coffee table with stools and a work desk that is opposite to her bed on the other end of the tent. But again, it wasn't a big deal since she most likely wouldn't be spending much of anytime in here anyway. She tosses her duffel bag onto her bed as her communicator chirps in her back pocket.
"McCoy to Kirk."
Jim flips it open and says, "Kirk here. Go ahead."
"Change of plans. I've got some sort of situation that I need to sort out at one of the med tents. We'll have to meet up later tonight."
"That's fine. Just go do what I hired you to do," Jim replies with a little smile.
"Funny. McCoy out."
Jim snorts and snaps her communicator shut as she rubs it thoughtfully against her chin. With a sigh, she exits her tent and heads for Spock's. When she makes it to the Vulcan camp, she ignores all the curious and disapproving stares with little apprehension until she reaches Spock's tent. Thankfully, he is absent when she arrives, and she moves quickly to retrieve T'Khut's sketchbook and pockets the lotion. Without further delay, she leaves and goes in search for T'Khut's tent. Of course, by doing this, she has to ask around.
Yeah…that doesn't go well at all.
Some Vulcans just either glare coldly at her before moving on without the decency of a reply or stare at her wordlessly until she feels uncomfortable enough to bow out.
Jim is on the verge of giving up when a beautiful older woman, who doesn't look a day over fifty, approaches her. This woman is wearing dark purple robes with deep sleeves she hides her hands in, and she has eyes that are darker than unspoiled coffee. She is tall-taller than most of the Vulcan women Jim's seen by far, and even the men. Her grey hair is braided into two parts, and clipped off at the back where the rest of her hair falls into a long waterfall of curls that sway at her waist. She is a very stunning older woman.
"You are a singularly troublesome human," she comments as she looks down at Jim with apt disapproval. Her dark eyes are vaguely familiar. "Did your human mother teach you such appalling manners, or is your father to blame?"
Jim's jaw falls open and her body starts to quake with indignant anger.
"Calm yourself, girl-I meant nothing by it," she scoffs. "I wanted to demonstrate the way in which you were presenting yourself. My rudeness to you is equal to the same approach you displayed when tactlessly petitioning the location for the Lady T'Prisu's dwelling."
Jim closes her mouth and flushes in guilt.
"Judging by the color of your cheeks, I suspect that my explanation has pierced your thick skull," she quips tonelessly. "Now, if you have finished unsettling my people, I will answer your inquiry if you explain to me why you seek it."
"I-I have her granddaughter's notebook. I was only trying to return it," Jim responds and holds up the sketchbook for the intimidating Vulcan to see.
"I see," she murmurs. "Very well. It is fortunate for you that I was on my way to see the Lady T'Prisu on a certain manner. You may join me in my walk."
"Thank you," Jim says and follows the older woman. "My name is Jim, by the way."
"I know who you are, girl. As does the rest of the camp's inhabitants. Your golden hair and blue eyes is signifying enough," she brusquely retorts. "I am called Lady T'Pau."
"Lady T'Pau," Jim echoes as she puts T'Khut's sketchbook under her right arm. "I didn't realize I was being rude."
"This is obvious," Lady T'Pau says. "You are not of our world. You do not know of our customs. You are bound to fail in the aspects of social etiquette." She glances at Jim briefly. "It is unbecoming for a woman to petition her counterparts about another dwellings, being of no kin and no friend to them. If you had need of this information, you should have first greeted an individual politely, gave them your title, asked for theirs and inquired their health and the health of their clan. After which would be an appropriate time to request the whereabouts of the individual you seek."
"Oh," Jim says and flushes again as she thinks about the display she must have been putting on earlier. "I am extremely embarrassed for my behavior."
"Indeed," Lady T'Pau agrees, and it's hardly noticeable, but Jim can sense a bit of amusement in her voice. "I suspect you will not duplicate such a blunder. If you truly are ignorant to our ways, you may consult me beforehand. This way, you may avoid certain mistakes."
Jim blinks in surprise at the offer. "Wow. Thank you-you sure I wouldn't just be bothering you?"
Lady T'Pau stops before a tent and gazes at her coolly. "Vulcans are not familiar to this term 'bother'. There is no 'bother' in our vernacular," she corrects. "You are being exceptionally rude once more. I have extended an offer and you have yet to accept or decline."
"Sorry, sorry," Jim says hastily. "I accept. Of course I accept."
"Why are there no shoes on your feet?"
"I-forgot them."
"That is cause for concern. To forget such a simple thing," T'Pau murmurs unhappily. Raising the volume of her voice slightly, she adds, "You need not wonder why you were being given such speculative looks."
Jim flushes again and rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.
Lady T'Pau says nothing further and turns to enter the tent as Jim follows. She lifts her hand in a customary Vulcan greeting to a frail, dark-skinned older woman sitting on the floor beside a level table with a fruit basket and tea dishes.
T'Khut is pressed in close to her grandmother, her small hands are over her grandmother's wrinkled and shaking hands as she helps her grandmother drink the cup of tea.
Lady T'Prisu inclines her head weakly at Lady T'Pau before she eyes Jim curiously.
"James," Lady T'Pau says as she lowers her hand and looks at Jim sternly. "Greet your host, you uncouth child."
"Oh, sorry. Hello, Lady T'Prisu," Jim fumbles and does an awkward bow that makes T'Khut lips twitch as her dark eyes fill with laughter. "My name is Jim."
"I am aware of your identity, child," Lady T'Prisu remarks as her granddaughter helps her lower her cup to the table again. "My granddaughter consistently spoke high praises of you. In fact, had you arrived sooner, you would have bared witness to it."
"Grandmother," T'Khut hisses as her cheeks and the tips of her ears flush with a purple shade, deepening the color of her brown skin even further.
"Oh hush, girl," Lady T'Prisu gently chastises. "It is not my intention to cause you shame over your poetic waxing."
The flush on T'Khut's skin darkens.
Jim smiles softly.
"Come now, T'Pau. You and your young ward must join me," Lady T'Prisu suggests as she turns toward her table.
Lady T'Pau settles herself across from Lady T'Prisu as she makes a motion for Jim to sit in the empty space beside her.
Jim does and hands T'Khut her sketchbook with a friendly smile. "There are some really lovely drawings in there. I was really impressed," she remarks.
"Thank you," T'Khut murmurs as another flush creeps back onto her cheeks.
"James," Lady T'Pau reprimands. "You have not asked Lady T'Prisu if you may address her granddaughter so formally."
"Sorry," Jim says with a wince.
"It is quite alright. I will forgive you this mistake," Lady T'Prisu merely replies, and despite her vacant expression, there is definitely amusement in her dark eyes. "My, T'Pau. Such regard you seem to have for this girl already. I may almost claim that you have given life to this child yourself. You are always such a mother." She nods at her granddaughter and T'Khut stands on her knees as she carefully picks up the teakettle in the middle of the table. She pours a cup for Lady T'Pau first, then Jim.
"Do not jest me, Lady T'Prisu," Lady T'Pau coolly retorts as she lifts the porcelain cup, holding onto the handle with her right hand while her left hand rests on the bottom, fingers pressed together tightly and pointing outwards. "You mistake my interest in this girl for affection."
"Is it not?" Lady T'Prisu counters. "The rumor floating throughout the camp is that she is your espoused granddaughter."
Lady T'Pau tenses as Jim's eyes widen in surprise. "Vulcans do not gossip."
"Lie if you must, T'Pau, but you and I both know that nothing could be farther from the truth," Lady T'Prisu simply says. She looks at Jim. "And don't look so surprised. She is Sarek's mother, and Spock's grandmother. And by your connection to the little Lord, yours as well."
Jim is overtaken by an aggressive flush. "Does everyone know about us?"
"I would not go as far to say that everyone is aware, but more than likely those kin to T'Pau's house and acquaintances of her clan may have an inkling," Lady T'Prisu acknowledges. "T'Pau has given me the liberty of confirming the rumor in person, this is how I know."
"You are troublesome," Lady T'Pau remarks with a glare.
"And yet it is your choice to associate with me," Lady T'Prisu counters. "I have known you since you were in your mother's womb. You are fond of me."
Lady T'Pau does not deny it, but she does not confirm it either. Instead, she flicks her dark gaze over to Jim and says, "Do not be rude, James-though you seem to delight in it. Drink your tea."
Jim hesitates. "Um-I-no thanks. I don't want it."
"It is customary to drink the first cup given to you by your host," Lady T'Prisu clarifies lightly as Lady T'Pau looks at Jim strictly. "Drink what has been given to you and then you may deny my gratuity."
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but I-I really don't like tea," Jim explains vaguely.
"James," Lady T'Prisu says. "I must insist."
Jim purses her lips unhappily before she looks down at the mouth of her cup. Steam is rising from the depths of her tea, preluding to the fact that it is still hot, and Jim has to work hard to conceal her cringe. She reaches out with trembling hands and cups them around her mug. She swallows dryly as she lifts the cup with painstaking slowness as her hands shake all the more.
Lady T'Pau furrows her brow as she watches wordlessly before she lowers her own cup to the table and rests her left hand over the rim of Jim's cup to gently press it back down to the table. "Let the liability fall to me-she will share in my honor. I shall drink her cup so that it will not be wasted," she decides in a stoic tone.
"Very well. From your lips to my ears," Lady T'Prisu accepts with a curious gleam in her eyes. She flicks her gaze to Jim. "I do believe that T'Pau has just claimed you as hers. You are kin to her now. It is fitting to show gratitude in such situations."
Jim looks at Lady T'Pau in surprise but the elegant Vulcan is wordlessly finishing her cup of tea before she exchanges it for Jim's untouched tea. "I-thank you, Lady T'Pau," she says bewilderedly.
"Thanks are unnecessary," Lady T'Pau offhandedly replies as she continues to take graceful sips. "You will address me as T'Pau from this point forward."
Jim nods.
"Partake of Lady T'Prisu fruit. Unless you have an aversion to that as well," Lady T'Pau goes on to say as she lowers her half-full cup. "There have been talks. I have come to discuss the matter with you. The things I have heard are disconcerting."
"You refer to the gossip among the camps that there are those who have returned to the old ways," Lady T'Prisu surmises. "It is not uncommon for such talk or behavior in the wake of our ancestry planet's destruction."
"Indeed, but no less problematic. Logic will soon fail us if we return back to the old religions. Things are already unraveling-note the behavior of the young," Lady T'Pau says as she drinks Jim's untouched tea. As Jim finishes her banana, Lady T'Pau focuses her attention on T'Khut, who has been quietly sketching Jim from her side of the table. "The contusions you display are evidently not self-inflicted. I can only surmise that the cause is from petty quarreling."
T'Khut pauses in her drawing and does not lift her eyes from the medium-sized pad.
"You will answer her, T'Khut," Lady T'Prisu reprimands.
T'Khut straightens and she lifts her eyes to address Lady T'Pau. "Pardon me, Lady T'Pau. I-some of the other adolescents have been inconveniencing me," she admits.
"I see," Lady T'Pau merely says, but her lips tighten in disapproval. "There was a time when my own grandson experienced such unlettered behavior from those attempting to solicit an emotion from him, based on the imprudent preconceived notions they held about his paternity. Do not let it impede on your contentment. It will pass. I will have words with some of the elders."
"You have my gratitude, T'Pau," Lady T'Prisu says. "I have grown feeble in my old age, and I cannot move as freely as I once did in my youth. Your involvement is a comfort."
"Think nothing of it, Lady T'Prisu. I seek only to do what you would do in a similar situation if you were able," Lady T'Pau simply remarks. "Now, we have inconvenienced you enough. James and I will take our leave with a promise to return in the near future."
"Then I shall stave off death a little while longer in anticipation," Lady T'Prisu remarks with dry wit.
"Do not jest, old woman. Your passing is something I can hardly conceive," Lady T'Pau rebukes.
"Lady T'Pau is right, grandmother," T'Khut agrees with an unhappy frown. "You-are the only grand pleasure I have left in this life."
"Hush," Lady T'Prisu gently scolds as she strokes her frail fingers along the outer outline of T'Khut's ear with unconcealed affection. "In my age, I have little else to think on. But I will make no more comments on it, if it pleases you."
T'Khut's dark eyes go warm with a smile and she briefly touches her fingers to her grandmother's wrist in a quick Vulcan kiss.
Jim bites down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling at the rare and adorable display she feels lucky enough to witness.
"Let us leave," Lady T'Pau murmurs quietly to Jim as she tucks her hands into the deep sleeves of her dark purple robes and exits the tent.
Jim wordlessly follows the elder Vulcan out into the unforgiving sun, where she breaks out into a sweat once more. As they walk towards the southeast of the camp, she asks, "Lady T'Pau-can you please tell me where I can find Prime Spock's marquee? I have a prior engagement with him."
Lady T'Pau looks down at her neutrally before she replies, "I have requested that you address me by T'Pau. Please honor my demand." She waits for Jim's consenting nod before she continues, "As for his marquee, it can be found just thirty-six paces from here on your right." She then goes on to say, "Furthermore, to avoid confusion, we address him as Selek. You may address him however you wish in private, but in the company of others, I urge you to refer to him by this name."
"Understood," Jim agrees. "Thank you."
Lady T'Pau makes a thoughtful sound before she crowds in close enough that Jim has to crane her neck in strain to see her. The elegant Vulcan studies her unabashedly as she remarks, "You have significant appeal. It is easy to understand why both versions of my grandsons would be besotted by you."
Jim flushes violently.
"The older speaks of your praises, while the younger complains," Lady T'Pau notes thoughtfully as she takes in the bright flush spreading across Jim's face. "Yet, the fondness and respect they hold for you is clear. I am to understand that you are difficult and stubborn, but nobly brave and exceedingly intelligent nonetheless." She finally steps back and gives Jim breathing room. "Perhaps you will be good for our clan as Amanda once was. Though I will have to instruct you in the ways of proper etiquette if I am to allow you to escort me to various residences. Good day, James." And with that she disappears from sight.
Jim stares after her in befuddlement for two long minutes before she forcibly shakes herself out of it. She finds Prime Spock's tent with little difficulty. When she enters, she finds him sitting on a mat, eyes closed in concentration and hands clasped in his lap. She pauses and contemplates turning around so she can walk out and give him the privacy he needs.
"Do not fret, Jim," Prime Spock says without opening his eyes. "I am on the verge of completion. I need only a few more moments of silence to stabilize my shields. You may wait if it is your wish to do so."
Jim nods, even though she knows he can't see, and she walks to his level table, plopping down on the ground on the other side of it so she can face Prime Spock and watch him. She props her elbow on the edge of the table and drops her chin in her hand while she quietly waits for him to finish meditating. It doesn't escape her notice that her black hiking boots are under his table. She plucks free the pair of socks inside and unfolds them as she quietly puts them on, and then her hiking boots. It takes a little more time after that for her to properly lace them up.
True to his words, he unfolds his legs and opens his eyes a few moments later. His dark eyes immediately falls on her.
Jim's mouth spreads into a smile before she can help it.
Prime Spock's dark eyes go soft and warmed with a returning smile as his lips twitch. "You are early," he notes as he stands and turns away.
"I know, but-I didn't think you'd mind anyway. I was with T'Pau earlier and Lady T'Prisu. I returned her granddaughter's sketchbook. Her name is T'Khut. Maybe you know them?"
"Affirmative. They are longstanding acquaintances to our clan," Prime Spock confirms as he turns and treks back to the table, revealing a sizeable bag of Ghirardelli chocolate.
Jim perks up with an eager grin. "Is this for me?"
"Indeed," Prime Spock says as he opens the mouth and carefully slides it across the table. "But you may not take it with you. It is my intention to keep them as bait and use it to lure you here when it is convenient."
"Oh you beautiful, sneaky Vulcan-knowing my weaknesses like that," Jim purrs as she looks at him from under her blonde lashes while she pops a chocolate in her mouth. "And you know I'll come too. But I'd still come regardless."
"Call it supplementary provocation," Prime Spock rejoinders with amused eyes. "You mentioned running into T'Pau."
"Well," Jim says around a mouthful of chocolate. "I didn't run into her per say. More like she saw me behaving like an oblivious fanatic. She kindly corrected my pitiful social behavior and took me under her wing. We went and had a nice chat with T'Khut and her grandmother. And long story short, I now have the approval of the elder woman of your family."
"So it would seem," Prime Spock remarks, and again, Jim has a feeling she is being silently laughed at. "I have the impression you do not realize what T'Pau's status is among our people. In the days of old, she would have bore the mark of priestess. There is no equal term for the title by human standards, but it exceedingly noteworthy to us." He watches as she consumes another chocolate with a mystified expression. "She possesses a rather harsh temperament. To outside company, T'Pau can be rather callous and unforgiving of even the smallest blunder. The fact that she took to you so quickly is yet more proof you have a superlative charm that can penetrate even the hardest of hearts."
Jim flushes and tosses a chocolate at him. "Stop-you're making me blush. I'm not that great, you know. One of a kind, sure. But I'm not all grand."
"I strongly disagree, Jim," Prime Spock gently argues. "If I could compare your worth to the stars, it would be as they are-infinite in number and awe-inspiring."
Jim's flush deepens and she has to quickly swallow down the piece of chocolate that hits her tongue, lest she die from suffocation. "You are nuts if you think that," she mumbles timidly as she tries to hide her red face behind the bag of chocolate. She feels hot fingers cover her own and gently lower the bag from her face as she says, "Stop waxing poetic about me."
"Never," Prime Spock vows and unfolds her right hand from the bag so he can press her small knuckles to his warm lips.
Jim shudders as he whispers another small praise over her skin. She is about two seconds from climbing over the table and into his lap. The gleam in his dark eyes suggests that he is aware she might, and he makes no move to stop her.
But of course, that is the exact moment Spock enters the tent. He freezes at the sight of them and he goes a bit green about the tips of his ears.
Jim snatches her hand back and shifts guiltily as though she's been caught digging her fingers in the cookie jar.
"Pardon me. I see that I have intruded on a rather intimate moment. I came only to inform you and my older counterpart that I will be unable to join the session at the time we specified. I have a-prior engagement that will call me away for an undetermined length of time," Spock states stiffly before he spins on his heel and exits the tent.
Jim closes her eyes and sighs. "I should probably go and-" She makes a vague gesture with her hand before opens her eyes and stand. "Hold that thought."
"There is no rush," Prime Spock assures. "It was not my intention to create strife between the two of you."
"Trust me, there was strife long before you came in the picture. I'll talk to him," Jim says. "And if I'm not back for a while, well-the conversation may not have went as pleasantly as I hope it will. But I will be back eventually."
Prime Spock inclines his head wordlessly.
Jim smiles before she exits his tent in search for his younger counterpart. She finds him on the north side of the camps with Rand, and two male Vulcans that are at least a fraction older than Spock. They are dressed in twin metal grey excursion uniforms that must be standard for Vulcan officers, and they have deep-conceal holster vests outfitted to their chests.
Spock is outfitted in his science uniform with a holster around his waist with his phaser, tricorder and communicator. He also has a coffee colored nylon messenger bag looped over his chest.
Rand is outfitted in the standard Starfleet excursion uniform with a black knapsack strapped to his chest and a hoop of rope over his left shoulder.
"What's going on?" Jim asks.
"We are preparing for the expedition, Captain," Rand answers. "Commander Spock is spearheading the excursion."
"Commander Spock?" Jim addresses him in a tight voice and lifts her eyebrows expectantly. "What's going on and why wasn't I told?"
"It was my intention to do so. You were otherwise preoccupied," Spock merely replies as he gives her a vacant look. He clasps his hands behind him as he goes on to say, "It is our objective to pursue the water source located by the scourers commissioned by the Vulcan Council. They have requested me to sanction this location and analyze it further. With methodical adjudication, I will then elect the best possible route of action in terms of outlining the most effectual way of unearthing and deflecting the water source for accessibility."
"Understood-though it would have been nice if they had informed me about their plans for my First Officer," Jim says calmly, even in the wake of an unfurling spell of irritation searing lines into her chest. And though it's hard to admit, she is slightly worried. Call it a gut feeling, but she does not like this.
Spock says nothing, but he doesn't look as if he disagrees.
Jim looks at the two Vulcan officers. "What are your names?"
The tallest one says, "I am called Sefor."
The second one says, "I am called Kovar."
Jim nods and turns her gaze to Rand. "What are you doing here?"
"Curiosity?" Rand offers, and at the flat look Jim gives him, he clarifies, "It really is mutual interest. Plus I'm a bit of an expert on cartography. I overheard the conversation about the expedition and I offered my services to Commander Spock. He accepted."
Jim finds it strange, but not farfetched. "Okay then. But next time I'd like to be consulted about your volunteering. If something happened and I wasn't made aware of your acquaintance to the situation-it would be very compromising for not only you, but me as well. I need to know these things," she says and doesn't hesitate to throw Spock a pointed look. "Regardless of whether or not it was sanctioned by Starfleet or if I'm available to learn of the situation."
"Of course, Captain," Rand says with a sheepish grin.
"Good," Jim says, turning her gaze back to him. "How long will this expedition take?"
"No more than four days at least," Rand answers. "The walk to the North Mountains takes only a few hours. It's the climb up, and navigating inside the mountain's labyrinths that takes the effort I'm told."
Jim looks to Sefor and Kovar and asks, "Is this true?"
"Affirmative, Captain Kirk," Sefor stoically replies.
"And you didn't find anything else? Outside of the water source, I mean."
"Negative," Kovar says. "There was nothing of note."
"But it's not impossible," Jim supposes. "That there could be something else down there."
Sefor and Kovar do not reply, but they do not look at Jim unkindly. They glance away from her and to each other before they aim their gaze forward again.
It's odd.
"All that water and nothing," Jim contemplates aloud. It doesn't seem right. She adds, "I'm coming. I'd like to see for myself as well."
Spock stiffens.
"We do not require your assistance," Sefor states.
"We have need of only your First Officer," Kovar adds.
"No, I get that," Jim replies, and ignores the part of her that is in a fret over the thought that something could happen to Rand and Spock if she is not there to be sure over their safety. She is responsible for them after all. "But I won't be in the way. Call it curiosity, but I think I'm going to tag along."
Spock protests, "Captain, that would be unwise. The risk could be-"
"Just the same if I let the four of you go," Jim coolly interjects. "What's one more person? Besides, I'm not completely helpless. I've taken a few excursion courses. My knowledge is basic but I'm a fast learner."
"I must object, Captain," Spock insists. "You are not suitably equipped."
"I hear what you're saying, but no. I'm going," Jim maintains, because her gut is telling her to. "I understand the caution, but I'll be fine as long as I'm careful. And I know I don't have much of anything but I've survived on less before."
"Captain, I must insist that you remain here."
Jim stares at him and says, "Is that an order, Commander?"
"It is a strong suggestion," Spock returns, leveling her stare with his own.
"Noted. But I'm coming." Jim says with a tone that lets them all know she won't change her mind. "Now, we're wasting daylight by squabbling. We might as well get moving." She looks to Sefor and Kovar. "Please lead the way."
Sefor and Kovar flick their gazes to Spock, then away, before they turn and start a trek towards the North Mountain.
Rand turns on his PADD and begins tracing shapes into it with his stylus pen as he follows the two Vulcan officers.
Jim waits a moment or two before she follows as well. She waits for Spock to match her pace before she says, "We need to talk about earlier."
"Earlier, Captain?"
"The little moment you walked in between older you and I. That," Jim clarifies.
"It is of no importance," Spock decides. He waits a moment longer before he adds, "Though I can fathom how the link between us became so effortlessly formed."
"What does that mean?" Jim scoffs, hackles rising as she glares at him. "Because I have to say that I don't like what you're hinting at about me."
"I am merely proposing that you are simply more prone to his lure when in privacy," Spock clarifies, and the disapproval in his tone is obvious.
Jim snorts bitterly. "Yeah, because I'm such a young and untried woman who falls flat on her back at the slightest bit of flattery," she drawls sarcastically.
"I do not think that of you," Spock brusquely states. "Despite your blatant goading and antagonizing-my view of you remains deferential."
That quiets Jim right up. She purses her lips and crosses her arms. "I'm not sorry," she mutters stubbornly.
"I have not asked you to be," Spock counters evenly.
"Well good," Jim scoffs. "Because I'm not. And I think you suck."
"Acknowledged," Spock tersely replies.
Jim purses her lips again as their trek to the North Mountains becomes a sullenly silent one. "Will you just say something about me?" she finally snaps.
Spock's brow furrows. "I have said all that I intended to on the matter."
"No-that's not how you argue. You don't just let me say what I want and you accept it. You have to say the things about me that you don't like," Jim fusses. "Arguing with you is just like yelling at a helpless puppy, I swear."
"I would prefer if you did not swear in regards to that statement," Spock says with an unhappy frown.
"And?" Jim presses.
"And I find you exceptionally rude."
"And?"
"Childish."
"And?"
"Vexing."
Jim feels her lips twitch helplessly and she tries to stall the amused grin eating at her mouth. "And?"
"I would not be averse to the thought of outranking you in order for you to listen and consider my advice more carefully. Were I captain, you would have stayed put at the camps and I would not have to worry about your wellbeing," Spock admits carefully.
"Yeah, well, I don't like the thought of something happening to you while I'm not near to stop it from happening," Jim confesses. "You frustrate me, but I would never see you harmed. Like I said. You're a puppy to me. My pointy-eared puppy."
"I dislike that analogy," Spock reproves. "Furthermore, you are not suitably dressed for this excursion. Yeomen Rand skims your attire in five minute intervals."
Jim blinks in surprise as a grin overtakes her lips. "Really? Every five minutes?"
"Affirmative," Spock informally confirms. "If you wait thirty seconds you will bare witness to this."
Jim chews on her bottom lip as she waits-but true to his word, Rand glances back at her and flushes when he notices that she's caught him, quickly turning away and hunching down to make himself seem small. "Ha. Okay. I'll let you have that one. But come on-what I'm wearing cant be that bad."
"I do not believe I stated this," Spock impassively returns. "I said that it was ill-suited to the task we are attempting to accomplish. Yeomen Rand's work efficiency has lowered twenty-five percent since your arrival, but it is not a major forfeiture."
"You think he likes me," Jim teases. "Which I already knew, but, it's just amusing to see you notice it. You're like my little pointy-eared puppy chaperone."
"Jim, I must ask you to refrain from comparing me to animals. It is offensive."
"I'm still not sorry."
"Then you are still vexing."
"Good. I'm glad. I want to get on your nerves because as my friend, you deserve the privilege," Jim remarks.
"A curious ideology," Spock states with a lifted brow.
"So what else? I know you've got more to say and I want to hear it." Jim stumbles over a rock. With the steady approach of the mountain, the rocks increase in size.
"I am not comfortable with you conversing so intimately with my older counterpart," Spock announces as his hands clench and unclench at his sides. "It is slightly-I do not like it."
"I'm not going to have sex with him if that's what you're worried about," Jim amusedly assures. "I just-there's something about him. I don't know. When we're alone, I just-I feel so-" She pauses with a blush as she wraps her arms around herself.
Spock cocks his head as they continue their walk and he flicks his dark gaze to her. "What is it?"
"Wanted," Jim admits reluctantly. "He makes me feel like I'm something just-worthy, you know? I don't feel like that. I don't-feel worthy of much when it comes to love and affection." She takes a moment to give a jerky shrug. "I'm a gorgeous woman. I know. But that's all anyone else will ever know. They can't see what's behind this face because I don't want them to. It's a horror story in wait. But when I'm with him he just knows me, and he still-it's hard not to believe the things he says about me. He does love me, all versions, and I think that's amazing really. It's not a physical desire. I just-I kind of hate the thought that he's alone and I know his James died and I can't replace him but I can-I don't know-I can be a friend. I don't need or want it to be more than that. And-oh my god I am just ranting and raving on and on. And you let me do that," she accuses as she pats her red cheeks.
Spock is quiet for a long moment. He must be processing her words. His gaze stays forward as he says, "You are a uniquely difficult individual. But you are not without your charms. He has years of experiencing a paralleled version of you in both the good and the bad. It would not be beyond my older counterpart to have developed an appreciation for the person you are and will become."
Jim sighs heavily and shakes her head. "I don't know if you know this, Spock-but I stopped liking myself a long time ago. And it's hard for me to think otherwise about myself. I don't know what I'll be five years from now or even two weeks from now. All I know is that I'm trying my best. I am trying so very hard to be someone that even I like. And I have my little episodes from time to time, but-I don't know. I'm just here doing what I can."
"I find that I am conflicted at times," Spock warily divulges. "But it is a universal feat, I believe, that every life-form comes to know some difficulty in the midst of their existence. The best way to counter them, however, is to remember that we can only learn from those moments, which temper us. Do not expect of yourself more than you are able to achieve."
"That is some sound advice," Jim marvels with speculative smile. "Why don't I listen to you more often?"
"I have frequently pondered this as well," Spock retorts dryly as he flicks his gaze to her and lifts his brow. "But I have also come to value your tenacity-you are often correct in your assumptions as well."
"It's called instinct, and I use it more than I do my intellect, which I'm not saying is a bad thing to do. But sometimes, I think it is good to be more logical about things then instinctive," she concedes. "That's why I need you. You frustrating Vulcan. You make me edgy but I need you. You're a good friend and I can't see my life without you."
Spock stiffens and there is a light tinge of green dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "I-return the sentiment," he yields reluctantly.
Jim snorts amusedly at her emotionally stunted First Officer. She has the deepest urge to keep pestering and teasing him until he's flushed from head to toe, but she's not such a jerk all the time. She pushes the urge back and keeps to herself, silently observing their surroundings with interest.
The sun is bright and persistent, which leads Jim to continually wipe the sweat from her brow, lest she wants to feel the salty sting in her eyes. The only person who makes noise is Rand, and much to her amusement, it's humming-the humming of show tunes that is. A lot of them are unfamiliar to her but there is a handful she recognizes. When she glances over to Spock, she notices the way he lifts his eyebrow in inquiry towards the back of Rand's oblivious head.
Sefor and Kovar keep up a steady march, barely turning or cocking their heads in any other direction besides their intended destination. They keep their hands clasped behind them against their lower back. Their paces also match.
Jim jams her hands in the front pockets of her navy overall shorts as a gust of dry air loops around her partially bare navel, arms, and legs. She glances up at the blue sky, and briefly searches out her ship before she lowers her gaze to the North Mountains. They are huge, beastly things-red and unevenly molded up to pointed tips. It reminds her of a red Mount Kilimanjaro. The base of the mountain is a tomato red, and as the rocks elevate, the color dulls off into a terracotta color. As she looks on with continuing interest, she notices how the ground that expands out from the North Mountains are crackling off into brownish red mud clay textures, with sizeable rocks littering random areas.
Jim frowns as her brain kicks into high gear.
By the time they reach the base of the North Mountain, it's already nightfall and it's unanimously decided that they will just stop and make camp.
It's a safer climb in the daylight hours.
Jim makes a fire using clay and stones and a bit of extra rope and the laser setting on her tricorder and it is glorious how baffled everyone is at her ability to do it. Not all the tricks she learns from Tarsus are bad ones.
Not long after that, Sefor and Kovar do not stick around to make camp with them. They explain that they must seek out a suitable place to begin the climb and lower the risk of danger as much as marginally possible. They separate-Sefor heads east and Kovar heads wet-and they begin their treks along the base of the mountain.
Jim sits beside Rand as Spock sits on the other side of the fire, working quietly and efficiently on his PADD. "So why is the mountain so steep?" she asks and turns to fully face Rand.
Rand stores his PADD away as he says, "That's a good question. I think it has to do a lot with the mantle erosion. It'll take at least a day to get to workable grounds where we can just trek upwards instead of climbing. I mean, no one has mentioned feeling any tremors. Yet the base of the mountain seems to be pushing outwards, as though it's being forced in this general direction. It's probably something that happens every century."
"10 mm/year at most," Spock clarifies without looking up from his PADD, the little intellectual multi-tasker. "The tectonic forces will have pushed the North Mountains up by as much as 25 kilometers. The amount of structural relief is 35,000 feet, which indicates a rate of uplift of 4.5 inches per hundred years."
Rand's eyebrows lift in captivation by such thoroughness. He looks at Jim with the same baffled expression.
"Yeah, he does that," Jim explains with a fondly entertained smile. "He's so much fun at parties."
Spock briefly glances at Jim before he returns his gaze back down to his PADD.
The message in that look does not elude Jim in the slightest and it makes her smile widen in amusement. She turns to Rand and says, "So did you claim your throne?"
Part 2