FIC: "Break" (ST:AOS, S/U, rated R) part 3/3
At last we come to the end! Great thanks to taraljc, marinarusalka and rheanna27 for their beta help and support.
Part One
Part Two
April
“The ship says they have multiple wounded!” Nyota cried out over the klaxons. Red-alert lights flashed through the bridge, and she was absolutely sure she could smell smoke. “What do I advise them, Captain?”
Jim Kirk never took his eyes away from the Klingon vessels on the viewscreen. “We haven’t made a dent in their shields?”
“Negative, Captain.”
“Fire again. Give them everything we’ve got.” Kirk’s mouth set in a firm line, and for the first time, he looked like a man to Nyota, instead of an overgrown farmboy. “Lieutenant Uhura, advise the Kobayashi Maru -“
Something within the panels exploded. Lights began to flicker across the bridge, and the ship rumbled around them. It was so easy to believe this was real. Her adrenalin glands sure as hell believed it: her heart was going a mile a minute. Nyota tried to work her controls, but nothing was responding. “We’ve lost all communications, Captain.”
“Engineering reports warp core breach imminent, sir!”
Kirk rose from the chair, staring death in the face. Then he smiled - an expression simultaneously so absurd and so brave that the only thing Nyota could think was that this guy just did not get it. “Eject the warp core. Keep firing phasers. If we’re going to be stranded here in space, we can make sure those Klingon bastards are stuck here with us.”
“Shields at 20 percent! Shields failing, Captain!”
“No!” Kirk shouted, but then the viewscreen blazed into brilliant light, and the bridge shuddered again in its death throes. “Dammit!”
Nyota pulled the communications device from her ear and slumped back in her chair as darkness fell around them. Despite the fact that Kirk was the fourth command cadet she’d gone through this test with, so far the Kobayashi Maru felt real every single time. Maybe Spock had a hidden sadistic streak.
A panel in the side of the simulator swung wide. Silhouetted against the blaze of light from the hallway was a man’s form: Captain Christopher Pike, recently returned from deep-space duty to lead the Enterprise and see the command cadets through their final exercises. “Not bad, Jim. You kept fighting until the end.”
“I lost. How can you say it wasn’t bad when I lost?” Kirk sat down in the captain’s chair again, his arms gripping the sides as if he were reclaiming it. “I want to take it again.”
“Nobody takes the Kobayashi Maru twice,” Captain Pike said. “Come on. Let me explain a few things about this simulation to you.”
Unwillingly, Kirk rose from his chair and followed the captain. Nyota almost felt sorry for him. For a snarky, know-it-all, over-hormonal farmboy, he wasn’t half bad.
She left the testing simulator, changed into dark gray leggings and tunic, left the building and walked out into the early twilight. Spring had finally begun to gain purchase; though the San Francisco air was still chilly, the wind didn’t have the same bite. The breeze tugged at her ponytail, and she reached up to free her hair. When it tumbled loose around her shoulders, she exhaled deeply.
Nyota wanted to make it a early night, crash in her bunk and put the rest of the world aside. Now that classes and projects were finally wrapping up, she was rediscovering the joys of sleep. Yet she remained unwilling to return to the dorm room - she remained restless. After so many years of constant pressure, freedom felt unfamiliar and almost threatening.
Her footsteps began to turn toward Spock’s quarters - but, for the first time in months, it felt odd to go there.
Ever since her trip to Vulcan, things had been subtly altered toward them, and Nyota was unsure how, or why. Spock was not shunning her, by any means; when they were together, he was as considerate and attentive as ever. And yet they were not together nearly as often as they had been before. Only now did Nyota realize how often he had sought out her company - now that he had stopped.
Had she offended him on Vulcan? Her memory of the trip was mostly a warp-lagged blur of shimmering heat, frantic document scanning and one drowsy, pleasant breakfast in Lady Amanda’s rose garden. They’d hardly spent enough time together there for her to cause offense in the first place. And Nyota thought she and Lady Amanda had hit it off, so there couldn’t be a problem there. Then she reconsidered. Even if Lady Amanda liked Nyota, a doting mother might take a moment to remind her son about his fiancée, and how easily human women could be misled about his intentions. She would probably have seen that as a kindness to all involved.
Oh, no - what if T’Pring had heard about Spock bringing a woman home with him? They’d walked together through the main streets of Shi’Kahr while many people watched and disapproved. Lady Amanda might not be the only one with doubts, or the only one he had to reassure.
Well, Nyota was clear on Spock’s intentions, or lack thereof. Their friendship had to survive her crush, until she could find a different way of loving him, one that wouldn’t make her feel sick inside every time she thought about his eventual Vulcan marriage. If he thought she wasn’t capable of that - if she sometimes doubted it herself - that was all the more reason to face the issue head-on.
Her idle thought of visiting Spock hardened into resolve. She was always most driven when she knew she had something to prove.
Nyota sent a message ahead, so he would expect her, but when she knocked on the door, it took him a few moments to answer. When the door slid open at last, she saw that she had disturbed him in meditation. “I’m sorry. I should have given you more notice.”
“It is of little consequence,” he said, rising from his mat. He left the candle burning. “Please, sit down. What brings you here?”
He always asked that - it was more or less the same as “hello” for Vulcans, purpose-driven as they were - but this time it made Nyota even more nervous than she already was. She seized upon the first topic that came to mind. “I wanted to talk about the Kobayashi Maru.”
Spock shed his meditation robe, beneath which he wore the knit shirt she liked so much. The candlelight was doing what candlelight did, making everyone look about ten times sexier than usual. Keeping her cool wasn’t going to be easy.
“You must have divined the test’s purpose by now,” he said.
“The purpose is to show us what it means to deal with death. To put us through all of that, so Starfleet Command can see what we do under pressure.”
“I trust the simulation is sufficiently realistic?”
“You’re proud of the damned thing,” she said, smiling ruefully. He cocked one eyebrow, but didn’t deny it. “Don’t get me wrong. I always remember it’s just a simulation. And I’ve understood since about the second time I went through it that there was no way to win. But it still gets to me.”
“Given time, you will become accustomed to the test. Before each year’s command cadets are done, the others often have to be admonished to take the simulation seriously.”
“Can we jump ahead to that part?”
Spock sat next to her on the small couch. Normally he would have taken the chair; this way, their knees were almost close enough to touch. “Nyota, I have observed most of the tests in which you took part. Your courage and skill are invariably on display.”
“I’m not a command cadet. I don’t get graded on this.”
“I am not speaking about your grades. I am speaking about you. If this test has caused you any fears for your greater Starfleet career, it should not. You should take pride in your calm under fire.”
“Are you trying to turn me into a Vulcan?”
She meant it as a joke, but his expression darkened. “I would never wish for that.”
“Okay, okay. I just meant -“ Nyota shook her head, trying hard to find the right words. “You have a level of detachment that’s difficult to understand, sometimes.”
“I am not always detached,” Spock said. He seemed to be studying her face very carefully.
They were so close now. Nyota found her imagination traveling in all the directions she’d tried so hard to avoid - leaning nearer to him, running her hand through his hair, just flat-out jumping him and seeing what he’d do. If this was a test of her ability to put her attraction behind her, she was failing it worse than any cadet had ever failed the Kobayashi Maru.
Deep breaths, she told herself. Spock had wanted to talk about her career. That seemed like a good idea. An appropriate idea. Straightening her tunic, she said, “I haven’t brought this up before, because I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d be breaking regs to talk about it.”
“What subject do you wish to discuss?”
“You don’t have anything to do with our assignments post-graduation, right?”
“Affirmative.” He seemed weirdly thrown by the choice of topic, as if he’d been expecting her to say something else, but he continued, “I could have input on temporary or emergency postings, but your ultimate assignment will be determined by the senior faculty committee.”
“So we should be okay talking about this.” She took a deep breath, which was supposed to be calming but instead caught the scent of his skin. With determination, she focused. “I want the Enterprise. I know it’s the flagship; I know half the class is putting in for her. But I mean to be there. Got any Vulcan-precise probability to back that up?”
“You have demonstrated exceptional aural sensitivity and an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmission tests. Your marks put you in the highest two percent of the class, and your thesis is top-level work. I would surmise that you will get the placement of your choice.”
“Even the Enterprise.” Satisfaction felt sweet.
“Yes. I had long ago calculated your chances of being assigned to the flagship to be greater than 90 percent, even if you had not specifically requested the posting.” Nyota flushed with happiness, but Spock still seemed somewhat hesitant. After a brief pause, he added, “I look forward to serving together with you there.”
“You’re leaving the Academy?” Why did it shock her so much? As fine a teacher as Spock was, he was expert in countless subjects; any ship of the line would welcome him. But no, that wasn’t what had caught her off-guard; it was the news that he would be on the Enterprise with her.
“I only agreed to teach in order to postpone another long-term assignment until the Enterprise was ready for her mission. Captain Pike has offered me the position of science officer.”
“Congratulations,” she said, and she meant it, but she felt slightly as though he had shoved the couch out from under her.
She’d accepted what she felt for Spock because it was worth it to have the chance to know him, to be his friend and learn everything that he had to teach her. Nyota had seen herself bidding him a fond goodbye after graduation, going to her dorm room to spend her last night on campus having a good cry, and then waking up in the morning, tears forgotten, a lifelong friend made and a tour of duty on the Enterprise beckoning her onward.
Instead, she was going to be serving with him for the next five years - and what she felt for him wouldn’t be set aside as easily when they were together every day.
“You seem uneasy. Is the test still troubling your thoughts?”
Nyota couldn’t find the words right away. This was something private, and for all that she sometimes felt like an open book compared to Spock, she didn’t bare her soul very often. Possibly it would be hard on their friendship, too, and no matter what else might happen, she already knew she wanted to remain Spock’s friend for the rest of their lives. “Not the test. There’s something we need to discuss - that I should have brought up a long time ago, probably.”
Spock straightened. As little as he understood of human emotion, he obviously realized that she was leading up to something big, and probably he guessed what it was. “I had also meant to speak with you on a subject of importance, though I had not thought to raise the subject before graduation.”
The dreaded “friends” speech: Despite some curiosity to know what it sounded like coming from a Vulcan, Nyota preferred not to hear it. At least she could preserve something of her dignity by speaking first, and well. “This semester, I’ve been facing my own version of the no-win scenario. I’ve come to care about you very much.” Dammit, she thought, say it. You have to be clear, with Spock. “Romantically, I mean. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Spock’s expression changed, but too subtly to read. She suspected that she’d finally found a way to shock a Vulcan into silence. Nyota felt her throat tightening, but she pushed back the reaction. She was going to keep it together; she wasn’t going to lose Spock as a friend. The only way out was through.
“If we’re going to spend the next five years together, I just need to hear you say that it’s not going to happen. And also, I hope, that we can still be friends. I might need some space for a while, but please don’t think that my - human weakness has made me unable to see you as a fellow officer and a friend.”
Spock’s voice was low when he answered, “I cannot say that.”
Oh, no. She had messed things up even worse than she’d dreamed. “You don’t think we can be friends after this?”
“That was not the assertion to which I was referring.”
“But then-“
Her voice faltered as Spock’s hand brushed against hers.
At first, she felt nothing but pure astonishment - but then the warmth of his touch brought her into the here and now, into her own body and this moment when she realized that he wanted her too.
Two of his fingers stroked the length of two of hers, and then he brought their fingertips together. She sensed that this was important - that it was ritual - but she couldn’t analyze any further. The feel of his skin on hers, just at their fingertips, was enough to blot out everything else.
Nyota slowly intertwined her fingers with his, and he responded by taking her hand. His thumb brushed the inner curve of her wrist, the base of her thumb, the hollow of her palm. She tightened her grasp, holding him closer.
At this moment, he could feel what she felt - all of that was flowing into him through her skin.
Their eyes met, and the jolt of that connection nearly made her gasp. He looked so uncertain, despite the warmth of their touch, and she kept her voice even as she said, “What does that mean? The two fingers, together.”
“It is an expression of affection,” Spock said softly. “Most often shared between bonded spouses in public. The equivalent of a kiss.”
Nyota brought her other hand to his shoulder, then up to caress the curve of his neck. “Vulcans don’t kiss?”
“We do.” Their voices were almost whispers. “But only in private.”
“We’re alone now.”
She took his face in her hands and kissed him. For the first moment, she wondered if somehow she had misjudged him, because he did not immediately respond - but he warmed to her touch, kissing her back.
Their lips broke apart, then came together, more forcefully this time. Spock’s fingers traced along the line of her jaw, down the length of her throat, as if to feel the pounding of her pulse.
This is really happening, she thought. I’m not dreaming. This is real. It surged through her like electricity, so that every inch of her body was aware of nothing else.
His mouth tasted like copper, and his kisses were warmer than she’d ever imagined. As their bodies came together, his hands gripped her shoulders to pull her closer, then tangled in her hair.
Their kisses intensified quickly - one moment their lips weren’t open, and the next they were kissing passionately. His hands slid down her back and found the curve of her hips. Nyota leaned backward, pulling him with her, until she realized that they were seconds from lying down together on the couch or maybe the floor.
She turned her face from his, then almost instantly lost her resolve when his lips found her throat. “Wait,” she gasped. “Wait a second.”
He stopped immediately. “Nyota?”
“I just need a second to -- catch up.”
That probably made no sense to Spock, but he simply embraced her. She hugged him back, her mind racing. Both of them were breathing hard, she realized, and it was something of a thrill to realize she’d gotten a Vulcan hot and bothered.
“Had I realized you were troubled,” Spock said, “I would have spoken before. I would not intentionally have caused you difficulty.”
“I know that. It’s all right.”
Nyota had never seriously considered what it would mean for him to want her as much as she wanted him. It had seemed impossible. Why make plans for the impossible? She’d guarded herself so carefully that she’d never even let herself fantasize beyond the vague thought of a kiss. With the reality here, next to her, she had to look at certain facts for the first time.
“I considered it more appropriate to broach the subject after we were both officers on the Enterprise.” Only Spock could speak so formally while their mouths were only inches apart. “But your human honesty is preferable.”
“We have to be breaking the Academy fraternization rules,” Nyota said as she wrapped her arms more tightly around him. “They never really spell out what fraternization is, but - this has definitely got to qualify.”
“There is a 94.2 percent chance that we will serve together on the Enterprise. No rules forbid shipboard relationships.”
For a moment, her longtime dream blazed brighter than ever before in her mind - brighter than she had known it could burn. But it did not blind her to harder realities. “I hate to mention this now, but we had better talk about, well, your fiancée.”
Spock seemed remarkably unfazed. “I intend to make inquiries as to whether the bonds that tie me to T’Pring can be severed.”
“Oh.” She didn’t seem able to find any words beyond that.
“This does not obligate you to a commitment in any sense,” he added quickly. “It is only that I once believed I could accept a Vulcan union, devoid of emotion. Now I know that I cannot.”
Nyota gazed up at him, her disbelief finally giving way. An awestruck smile illuminated her face. “So we really get to figure this out. We get a chance.”
“Yes.” Spock brushed his fingertips beneath her chin, tilting her face back from his. “I realize that in some contexts I am - not an intuitive choice. But I will endeavor to make you happy, Nyota.”
“Stop apologizing for yourself. Forever. Right now. That’s an order.” Nyota kissed him fiercely.
When their lips parted, he whispered, “Aye.” He cradled her face in his hands, and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed against her cheekbone. Just the heat of that kiss was enough to melt most of Nyota’s resolve. But not all. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her senses.
“This is why you’ve been spending less time with me lately,” she murmured, as her hands settled on his thighs. “You didn’t want us to break the fraternization rules six ways from Sunday.”
His fingertips slid down her throat, along the neckline of her tunic, dipping barely beneath her collarbone - enough to make her whole body taut with anticipation. “I admit to certain - temptations.”
“So we have to be strong.” Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. “To obey the rules.”
“I believe that we are already in violation of the spirit of the rules,” Spock said. His thumb brushed along the lower curve of her lips. “The letter of the law would therefore seem less important.”
“That may be your greatest rationalization yet.” Nyota forced herself to pull away from him - not far, but enough, and she took his hands so that they wouldn’t fall back into a deeper embrace. “You have more to lose from a fraternization inquiry than I do. Student penalties are bad enough, but instructors can be drummed out or Starfleet.”
“Such severe measures are unlikely in the case of a consensual relationship.”
“That’s beside the point. If anybody in authority ever does wake up to the fact that Vulcans have libidos too, I want us to be able to get through questioning with our honesty mostly intact.”
He relaxed slightly, accepting the wisdom of what she said. “Under no circumstances would I wish to compromise your integrity.”
The Victorian sense of the verb “compromise” flickered in her mind. Smiling, she added, “Besides, I was dead-set on the Enterprise before, and now I have even more reason not to let anybody take it away from me.”
“Your discipline in this matter is closer to the Vulcan ideal than my own."
“Don’t get me wrong,” she teased. Had she really been in despair about her feelings for him just half an hour before? And now she was laughing, joyful, wanted, in love. “I’m on the verge of dragging you back to your bunk by the hair, but we have to be careful.”
“An interesting mental image.”
“Me dragging you by your hair?” Nyota laughed.
“And after.” He said that with an arched eyebrow that came very, very close to convincing her to forget the damn bunk and make love to him where they were.
Nyota took a deep breath. “Just one month until graduation. We can make it one month, right?”
“If you wish it.”
“And we have so much to talk about now.”
“Rest assured that I have no intention of neglecting the final proofread of your thesis.”
“We’ve got to work on your pillow talk. I mean, I want to know more about - about what you need from a relationship. With humans, it’s usually pretty obvious.”
“That has not been my observation.” He shifted his right hand, bringing two fingers to hers in the same way he had first touched her. “But I am confident we will understand one another.”
Just those words told her how far they had come.
**
The next three weeks were some of the best she spent at the Academy. Her thesis came back with an A+ and was sent off to the Andoria linguistics conference. The Kobayashi Maru test became routine, or in the case of the obstinate James T. Kirk, obnoxious. Gaila seemed to have five boyfriends at once, which was funny until Nyota walked in on her with the guy who had all the tentacles, which was way too much visual information and called for a new house rule forbidding in-room sex before graduation. She hoped she wasn’t insisting on that just to make sure that if she was stuck with chastity, Gaila was too.
Spock and Nyota met in public, stayed longer after class and were, in all respects, as calm and proper as they had been when they first began working together, if not more. It was almost a game, being as formal as possible while looking at each other and knowing how close they were to graduation night. The anticipation alone was better than most of the sex Nyota had ever had. It seemed like her life was coming together more beautifully than ever before.
And then Vulcan sent out a distress call, and everything shattered and fell apart.
May
The assembly hall of the Enterprise was intended as a place for diplomatic receptions or the occasional crew celebration. Now it hosted a poor shadow of the Vulcan ceremony of mourning.
Spock had attended such mourning ceremonies in the past for various family members. He had knelt in the Hall of Ancient Thought, stood among the Elders and listened to the long genealogies recited in their turn. In the case of those whose deaths had allowed it, the bearer of that Vulcan’s katra released the spirit to join the others in the depths of the Hall, the deepest soul of his homeworld.
That soul - all those countless spirits - had been destroyed along with six billion lives. The enormity of the loss was beyond imagining; the genealogies that of the entire planet. And a few hundred of the few thousand survivors huddled here together, beneath Sol-tinted lighting, breathing sterile air, attempting to somehow do honor to the fallen. Someone had at least provided lit candles, which did little to create the correct mood but was a considerate gesture.
T’Pau, first mother of the House of Surak, held her arms open wide at the center of them all, summoning what remained of her people - though aliens had joined in this ceremony as well. Next to Spock stood Nyota, her hands clasped before her and her eyes shut. Beyond that was Jim Kirk, who had bowed his head in respect.
“For all Vulcan, we mourn,” T’Pau said. “For all Vulcan, we must endure.”
As real and as terrible as the deaths of six billion Vulcans were, one loss beyond any other shrouded Spock’s heart.
For all Vulcan, he thought. For all Vulcan, and one human.
By the time the ceremony had ended, Spock’s emotional control was at its very limit. Nyota did not touch him - mindful of the customs of the Vulcans who surrounded them - but she remained by his side. Jim said, in surprisingly good Vulcan, “I grieve with thee.”
Spock could do no more than nod. He glanced at Nyota as Jim walked away, wondering if she had taught their captain the correct way to respond, but she shrugged. Once again Spock wondered precisely what had passed between Jim and the mysterious “Ambassador Spock” from the alternate reality.
His father came to his side; however, it was to Nyota that he spoke. “You are my son’s student. My wife spoke favorably of you.”
“I grieve with thee,” Nyota repeated. Despite her flawless accent, the words were almost unrecognizable as Vulcan, because of the emotion that trembled beneath the surface. “It was my honor to know the Lady Amanda, though too briefly.”
“We are fortunate that you came to Vulcan,” Sarek said. His voice was dull. “You were the last person to work with many of our most ancient documents. Had you not recorded them at the time, they would be forever lost now.”
Nyota’s eyes filled with tears, and Spock understood that she was weeping because his father could not. Her reply remained thoroughly logical, however: “I am grateful for the chance to share my documentation with the Elders, and to offer whatever other help I can.”
Sarek simply nodded. His eyes met his son’s, and between them there was nothing to be said - no animosity any longer, but no closeness yet either. After a moment, his father turned to go.
Nyota whispered, “Do you need me with you now? Do you need to be alone?”
Sarek’s eyes were open, but he did not seem to see. Grief shadowed every step. He had loved Mother all this time, and now he had lost her. More than anything else, she had wanted the breach between them to be healed.
“I love Vulcan because it is part of him, and part of you. There is nowhere else I would have wished to spend my life. There is no other husband I would ever have wanted, and no other son I could possibly have loved so much.”
“I must remain with my father,” Spock said, willing her to understand. But he need not have worried - Nyota immediately stepped aside, allowing him to leave. That might have moved Spock less, had he not already known there was a good chance he would not return to her side soon, if ever.
**
It was another two days before Spock saw Nyota again. By then they were on Earth once more. Spock had been much concerned with helping his father coordinate the various needs of what interstellar diplomacy called a “displaced population.” As ambassador to Earth, Sarek held much responsibility, and no pause could be taken for grief. Finally, however, late in the second evening, even Sarek had to sleep, and Spock beamed back to Starfleet Academy.
Exhausted as he was, Spock intended to go to Nyota immediately. He realized to his chagrin that he had returned to campus without a communications device of any sort, and he did not wish to extend his parting from her long enough to go to his quarters and obtain one. Instead, he went to her dormitory, hesitated briefly at the door and went inside.
Days ago, visiting Nyota’s room would have resulted in immediate gossip and eventual disciplinary hearings. If only that were still true. Now, the dormitory was nearly empty. This had been a fourth-year dorm; most of the residents had been killed by Nero. Spock’s footsteps echoed in the hallways.
He pressed the panel beside her door and said his name. Within a second, the door slid open, and Spock stepped inside. On the other side of the plexiglass panel, Nyota sat in her robe at the foot of her bed, wiping her eyes. “Nyota?”
“You’re back.” She took one of his hands and kissed it, pressing it to the side of her face. He could feel her tears against his palm, but when she looked up, she tried to smile for him. “How are you?”
“Tell me first what troubles you.”
“I don’t want to burden you further.”
“You are not a burden.” Spock sat next to her on the bed.
“It’s just -“ Nyota held up her PADD; listed on it were the casualty lists from the Battle of Vulcan. “So many friends of mine. So many people I knew. I can’t find out anything about Gaila - everything’s so confused, the Potemkin lists aren’t in yet - but Francois and Nruo’bek and Wei Su, all of them. All of them. They’re gone.”
Spock took her into his arms; she returned the embrace fiercely, and he closed his eyes. His grief, too, knew some surcease now that they were reunited. It made his duty that much harder to face.
Given her distress, he considered not speaking of such matters immediately. But he knew Nyota well enough to know that she would want honesty above all else.
When her weeping stilled, Nyota continued to rest against him. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “How did you leave things with your father?”
“He finds purpose in searching for a home for our people. There is much yet to be done.” Spock could delay no longer. “I must speak with you.”
She pulled back from him, her face already resigned. “I think I know what you’re going to say.” Nyota could not meet his eyes. “I’ve been trying to prepare myself, but - this is hard. Even though I understand. Even though, in your place, I’d probably do the same.”
“My civilization is at risk. Every person is needed to rebuild our culture. I feel as though duty requires me to remain at my father’s side.”
“And to leave Starfleet.”
Spock nodded. Neither of them said that this meant also leaving her; they did not have to. “I would not ask you to abandon your vocation to join me on the colony world, however much I might wish for your presence.”
“No,” she said. “There’s nothing for me to do there - nothing for me on that world except you. I can’t give up my whole life for love. Even if, right this second, I wish I could.” Her hand grasped his so tightly that the sensations bordered on pain.
He took her back into his embrace, meaning only to comfort her. But Nyota’s arms circled his neck, and her mouth found his. They kissed so long and so deeply that his exhaustion and grief were cast out, replaced only by his need for her.
“Stay here with me tonight,” Nyota said, her warm breath against his cheek. “Don’t tell me all the good reasons why we shouldn’t. Just stay.”
His only answer was another kiss.
She tugged away his tunic, helped him slip off his boots. He untied the knot of her robe; there was no reason why the sight of her naked body should be more intensely arousing than the knowledge of their intimacy, and yet he found he could not look away. Better yet was the moment when they lay naked together in her bed, skin against skin, and he could feel not only her body but also her spirit and her thoughts. Her desire for him. Her response to his touch. Her love.
Between kisses, she whispered, “What do you need?” The question was different now than before, the huskiness in her voice an unspoken promise.
“I hardly know. I trust you to guide me. Tell me what would please you.”
“You mean, this is - you haven’t - oh.” Nyota wrapped her arms more tightly around him and kissed his shoulder. “Let me show you.”
She urged him to explore her body, with hands and with mouth, and this he did gladly, surprised at how quickly instinct informed every movement. Surprising also was the amount of pleasure he could give and take through kissing her in unexpected places - earlobes, behind her knees or the back of her neck.
He indulged his old fantasy of placing his hands on the small of her back, then brushed his fingertips along her spine and relished her answering shiver. Nyota twisted on her side, taking one of his hands in hers and bringing it between her legs. He followed her movements, caught the rhythm quickly and listened as her breaths came faster and shallower. Her heart pounded hard enough that he could feel it through her back, against his chest. Quickly he kissed her between her shoulder blades, close to that heartbeat. When she arched her back and cried out, the pleasure that echoed through her and into him was almost dizzying.
Their mouths met again. Her hands caressed him as intimately as he had touched her, and Spock could feel his self-control beginning to slip. “I would join with thee,” he whispered.
“Is that what you say?” Nyota’s voice was breathy and light. “Is that how we begin?” Her thighs slid up his sides, her whole body welcoming him.
“I meant - I would have you feel what I feel.” Spock brought two fingertips to her forehead, where he could create the lighter mental bond desirable at such moments. Her eyes widened as she realized his purpose. “It is only a touch, but if you do not wish it -“
She kissed him deeply, then murmured against his lips, “I want all of you.”
Spock closed his eyes and reached within her mind - only upon the surface, where the most immediate emotions and sensations dwelled, and opened himself to her. Nyota’s astonishment and momentary disorientation echoed within him for a moment, and then her slow, dawning wonder as the psychic joining took hold.
“We’re one,” she gasped, her arms tightening around his back.
He pushed inside her, feeling her cool and tight around him, and knew both the pleasure of his own body and the response of hers, deeper and more intense than before. Nyota cried out; he came close to doing the same. His hand slipped from her forehead, but it did not matter. The bond was complete, fused through their joined bodies.
Mind and body began entangled, inseparable. The memory of their first kiss was as one with the tilt of her hips and the new angle of their joining. The rising sensation arcing between them was no different than their desperate wish not to be parted. The beginning was the end.
He reached a moment of inevitability, surrendered his control to her and was overcome. As he groaned his pleasure against her throat, she climaxed again, answering like for like.
For a few long minutes after that, they remained wrapped around one another, even their breaths in sync, enjoying the enveloping, wordless satisfaction they shared. When Spock felt himself tempted to deepen the psychic joining between them, he forced himself to shunt his body to one side and to again touch her forehead to gently break the link.
Nyota’s hand curved against his cheek. “If I had known how little time we were going to have, I wouldn’t have waited. Not because of any damn Academy regulations.” She smiled unevenly. “I’d have made love to you every chance we got.”
He kissed her softly, but already his attention turned to what he needed to do next. “Vulcan custom and temperament make the expression of emotion difficult. Sometimes even the acknowledgment of emotion is nearly impossible.”
“We seem to have found a way.”
“Given all that has happened, what we have shared, my control is weak.”
“Are you okay?”
“Very much so,” Spock said. “What I feel for you - what we have shared -“ Once again, the words failed him. Even here and now, his Vulcan half held sway. He managed at least to say, “I care for you deeply, and I will continue to do so after we are parted. I know what I will lose, and what I will not.”
Nyota smile was both joyful and sad; she understood what he had not been able to say. “I love you too,” she murmured. Then she hugged him tightly, burying her face in the curve of his neck. He breathed in the soft scent of her skin and willed himself to remember what it had been like, to be understood, to be loved.
**
The next morning felt - like nothing at all. Not nightmarish, not tragic, not even real.
Nyota did not cry; she had done her weeping at dawn, when by mutual agreement Spock had left her room. She did not want to shower away the scent of his skin, or remake the bed by tossing aside the rumpled sheets where they had made love, but she did both with quiet efficiency. Although all classes and meetings were canceled, she dressed herself in her cadet reds, straightening her jacket, adjusting her insignia.
Today of all days, she needed to remember who she was, and the future that lay ahead for her.
Nyota wanted something to do. Anything. But for the first time in four years, no tasks awaited her. Never would she have imagined that empty hours could feel so much like a jail. Finally she made up her mind to send communiqués to the families of Wei Su, Francois and Nruo’bek. It wouldn’t be much comfort, but it was all she could do. She’d attach some of the band’s recordings, too.
Although she could have recorded the messages from her dormitory, Nyota knew she needed to spend as much of her day elsewhere as possible. She started across campus to the xenolinguistics lab, which had its own computer centers she could use. This took her farther away from the faculty quarters, which struck her as a good idea as well.
The campus was so empty. Only a handful of lowerclassmen hung around, all of them huddled together and quiet like tiny mice. Nyota wondered if everyone else had been sent home. And the shuttlepad was all but empty: Normally a constant buzz of traffic came in and out, but only one shuttle was landing. She glanced over, more out of habit than from genuine curiosity, but then she froze.
The people stumbling out were clearly injured and dazed; some wore duty uniforms, others coveralls that looked like Spacedock extras. These were survivors of the Battle of Vulcan.
Everyone stood at attention to honor the survivors, including Nyota. She remembered the horror of emerging from warp to see the burning wrecks tumbling through space around them. Within that chaos had been a handful of evacuation pods, and what the cadets and officers must have endured was unimaginable.
And then -- amid the survivors emerging was one who limped on her left foot, and whose skin was bright green.
Nyota sucked in a breath and started running toward Gaila as fast as she could. Gaila began running too, her arms open wide, halting on her injured foot but not stopping until the moment they slammed into each other’s arms. The impact took them down to the ground, but it didn’t matter. Nyota wrapped her arms around her roommate, crying so hard that she couldn’t see.
“We made it,” Gaila said between sobs. Disbelief quivered in her voice. “I don’t know how, but we made it.”
Tightening her arms around her roommate, Nyota said, “You’re home now. You’re safe. Everything’s going to be all right.” For the first time that day, joy pierced her sorrow, and Nyota could remember that not everything was lost.
**
“Lieutenant Uhura - there you are.” Jim Kirk fell into step beside her as they walked through the corridors of the Enterprise - which had become, for both of them, home. He looked almost indecently happy; she might have thought it unbecoming to an officer if she hadn’t been smiling nearly as broadly herself. “I’d just like to take this occasion to say that I’m glad you’re on board. There’s no other communications officer in the fleet that I’d rather have in charge.”
“And I’d just like to take this occasion to thank you for not using my first name, even though you’ve found out what it is.”
“Like I always say, I can wait until you give it to me,” Kirk said, utterly without the flirtatious undercurrent she would have expected. Either he’d finally given up or he understood the concept of a “decent interval.” On reflection, though, Nyota thought he had already found the great love of his life; it shone from him as he looked over his new ship. Maybe that would be enough for him, for now. “I’m double-checking my personal supply transport logs before we ship out - you know how Spacedock loves to lose people’s luggage. See you later.”
Nyota took the turbolift to the bridge, which shone white and silver. Every evidence of damage from the final battle against Nero had been repaired. Hikaru Sulu sat at the helm, an almost reverent look on his face as he passed his hand over his control panel; next to him, Pavel Chekov was not actually bouncing with excitement, but it was obvious he was fighting a hard battle to keep from doing so.
You should be here, Spock, she thought, not for her sake but for his. He had wanted this as badly as she had, and for even longer. When Nero destroyed Vulcan, he had destroyed both Spock’s past and his future. Nyota could only hope that, on the colony world, Spock would finally be accepted as an equal member of Vulcan society and perhaps find the peace he had so long sought.
She relieved the young man at her duty station and began handling the barrage of communications traffic that preceded any launch: Last-minute personnel changes, loving farewells to family members, safety and engineering checklists in excruciating detail, etc. None of this called upon her advanced skills - in fact, it was fairly mind-numbing - but it was part of the job, and Nyota meant to do it well.
A message from Winona Kirk to her son Jim: Sent to his personal datastream. A recording from Dr. McCoy to a Joanna McCoy - hmm, he was supposed to be divorced, but maybe it was a sister: Routed to the AmSouth Regional Net for further distribution. Dock control confirmed readiness to launch: She would report that in person. Warp drive checklist confirmation from Montgomery Scott to Starfleet Command: Slotted. A notice from Starfleet Command about the assignment of a Chief Science Officer to the Starship Enterprise: This was in writing, so Nyota glanced at it before patching it through to Command-All -
--and she froze.
Her heart leapt even as her brain denied it. You read it wrong. You must have. It’s just - wishful thinking. This can’t be real.
But she kept staring at the words, which remained constant. Her fingers stayed on the job, dutifully routing the message where it needed to go, but her mind seemed to have gone blank with joy.
The turbolift doors swooshed open, and Jim Kirk stepped out. Pride shone from him so strongly that it was like someone had added extra bridge lighting all of a sudden. Sulu glanced over his shoulder and said, “Maneuvering thrusters and impulse engines at your command, sir.”
Chekov chimed in, “Weapons systems on standby.”
Somehow, Nyota managed to say, “Dock Control reports ready, Captain.” She gave the rank the extra emphasis it deserved, now that he had actually earned it.
Kirk walked across his bridge, sparing a quick glance over at McCoy. “Bones! Buckle up. Scotty … how’re we doing?
Over the intership communications, Scott’s voice replied, “Dilithium chambers at maximum!”
The ship was ready to go. Raring to go. Nyota imagined it like a thoroughbred stamping at the ground, eager to run.
At that moment, the lift doors slid open again, and Spock stepped out.
It hadn’t been a dream. It hadn’t been wishful thinking. Nyota gripped her panel so tightly that her fingers hurt.
Spock first stepped to Jim’s side. “Permission to come aboard, Captain.”
“Permission granted.” Kirk looked both as surprised and as happy as Nyota felt herself.
“As you have yet to select a first officer, respectfully, I would like to submit my candidacy.” Spock’s voice became even drier, in the way that usually meant he was joking. “Should you desire, I can provide character references.”
Kirk said, with sincerity Nyota had rarely heard from him before, “It would be my honor, Commander.” He took a deep breath, obviously settling into a place of near-total satisfaction. “Maneuvering thrusters, Mr. Sulu.”
As Spock walked to his station, he glanced at Nyota. Their eyes met for only a moment, but that was more than enough to tell her that he had returned not only to Starfleet, but also to her.
Grinning, she turned back to her station, trying hard to retain professional decorum and not actually laugh out loud on the bridge.
Sulu called, “Thrusters on standby.”
From his chair - finally at home - Kirk said, “Take us out.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Sulu said as he shifted the helm controls.
The Enterprise slipped into warp, stretching their world into infinity.
**
After alpha shift ended, Spock joined Jim and Scotty for a briefing regarding their first mission. Nyota, at liberty, returned to her quarters to wait for what felt like the longest half-hour of her life. The nervous energy could be burned off by finishing her unpacking, she decided, and she whisked through it - slowing down only once, when she took out Nruo’bek’s drum. His people believed in giving away the possessions of the dead, and they had asked her to keep this. She tucked it into a corner near her bed and resolved to learn to play it soon.
Just as she gave the skin an experimental tap, her door chime sounded.
“Come in,” Nyota called. Her pulse quickened.
Spock stepped through the doors, which closed behind him with a swoosh. His hands were folded behind his back in a formality she hadn’t seen in him for months. “I had wanted to see you.” She noticed that he used neither her name nor her title. Apparently he was unsure of his welcome. “I trust you are settling in well.”
“Spock - you’re here. You came back to Starfleet. Why?” She took a deep breath. “Was it because of me?”
“In large part.”
“So, not only me.”
Spock had the look of a cornered man, but he held his ground. “It is important to be completely forthright in this matter. You were one of many important factors that changed my decision.”
“But only one.”
He squared his shoulders. “Yes.”
“Thank goodness.” Nyota leaned heavily against the wall, so relieved she felt nearly limp. At his evident surprise, she added, “I don’t want you here because you’re coming after me, Spock. I want you here because we’re headed in the same direction.”
Subtly, his body language softened as he realized that she was not angry. “I regret not informing you of my changed plans in advance. My ultimate decision was made after I had already sent a letter of resignation to Starfleet. There was some concern that my re-enlistment could not be processed in time for me to ship out with the Enterprise, but Admiral Pike intervened. Though I regretted having to rely on preferential treatment, in this case a deviation from protocol seemed to be called for.”
“I would say it was definitely called for.” Nyota sat at her cabin’s small table, hoping Spock would join her, but he remained standing and apparently uncertain. Some prying seemed to be called for. “What changed your mind?”
“Do you recall my speculation about the presence of my future self from an alternate timeline?”
“Yes.” At the time, Nyota had heard Spock out mostly to humor him, thinking this bizarre bit of speculation to be a form of Vulcan denial. Her eyes widened as she realized it had been true. “He really came through? Is this about the alternate timeline?”
“Not directly. But I spoke with him: a curious experience. He indicated that he would help establish the Vulcan colony world, quite literally in my place. He urged me to continue my career in Starfleet and upon the Enterprise. He seemed quite certain that Jim Kirk and I would someday be good friends. And he told me to - to ignore logic and do what felt right.”
She tried to imagine a Spock who would say such a thing, a man who could be so completely free of Vulcan expectations and sure of himself. Someday, maybe, if they were both lucky, this Spock would grow into the same kind of man. Softly, she said, “Then I’m glad this is what felt right.”
Spock straightened again, still mysteriously uncertain in her presence. “I realize that my original decision to leave Starfleet wounded you deeply,” he said. “If you presently consider our relationship to be terminated, I accept your judgment and ask only that I be permitted to demonstrate my willingness to compensate for the hurt I have caused you. In time, perhaps you will reconsider.”
Nyota rose from her chair, took Spock’s face in her hands and kissed him as hard as she could. At first he didn’t seem to believe she was really taking him back - but then his arms slid around her shoulders. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. She laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “This relationship is not terminated. Not by a long shot.”
“I am glad to know it.” His hands smoothed their way down her back, long lazy strokes that made her tingle. “I have missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She caressed the line of his jaw and even ran a fingertip along one of his ears. “Do you need to review the sciences duty roster? Or unpack? I can help you settle in, if you want.”
“I need to do both of those tasks, and others besides, but for the time, such matters can wait.”
“Yeah?”
Spock reached out to the cabin’s control panel and lowered the lights. “Affirmative.”
THE END
Part One
Part Two
April
“The ship says they have multiple wounded!” Nyota cried out over the klaxons. Red-alert lights flashed through the bridge, and she was absolutely sure she could smell smoke. “What do I advise them, Captain?”
Jim Kirk never took his eyes away from the Klingon vessels on the viewscreen. “We haven’t made a dent in their shields?”
“Negative, Captain.”
“Fire again. Give them everything we’ve got.” Kirk’s mouth set in a firm line, and for the first time, he looked like a man to Nyota, instead of an overgrown farmboy. “Lieutenant Uhura, advise the Kobayashi Maru -“
Something within the panels exploded. Lights began to flicker across the bridge, and the ship rumbled around them. It was so easy to believe this was real. Her adrenalin glands sure as hell believed it: her heart was going a mile a minute. Nyota tried to work her controls, but nothing was responding. “We’ve lost all communications, Captain.”
“Engineering reports warp core breach imminent, sir!”
Kirk rose from the chair, staring death in the face. Then he smiled - an expression simultaneously so absurd and so brave that the only thing Nyota could think was that this guy just did not get it. “Eject the warp core. Keep firing phasers. If we’re going to be stranded here in space, we can make sure those Klingon bastards are stuck here with us.”
“Shields at 20 percent! Shields failing, Captain!”
“No!” Kirk shouted, but then the viewscreen blazed into brilliant light, and the bridge shuddered again in its death throes. “Dammit!”
Nyota pulled the communications device from her ear and slumped back in her chair as darkness fell around them. Despite the fact that Kirk was the fourth command cadet she’d gone through this test with, so far the Kobayashi Maru felt real every single time. Maybe Spock had a hidden sadistic streak.
A panel in the side of the simulator swung wide. Silhouetted against the blaze of light from the hallway was a man’s form: Captain Christopher Pike, recently returned from deep-space duty to lead the Enterprise and see the command cadets through their final exercises. “Not bad, Jim. You kept fighting until the end.”
“I lost. How can you say it wasn’t bad when I lost?” Kirk sat down in the captain’s chair again, his arms gripping the sides as if he were reclaiming it. “I want to take it again.”
“Nobody takes the Kobayashi Maru twice,” Captain Pike said. “Come on. Let me explain a few things about this simulation to you.”
Unwillingly, Kirk rose from his chair and followed the captain. Nyota almost felt sorry for him. For a snarky, know-it-all, over-hormonal farmboy, he wasn’t half bad.
She left the testing simulator, changed into dark gray leggings and tunic, left the building and walked out into the early twilight. Spring had finally begun to gain purchase; though the San Francisco air was still chilly, the wind didn’t have the same bite. The breeze tugged at her ponytail, and she reached up to free her hair. When it tumbled loose around her shoulders, she exhaled deeply.
Nyota wanted to make it a early night, crash in her bunk and put the rest of the world aside. Now that classes and projects were finally wrapping up, she was rediscovering the joys of sleep. Yet she remained unwilling to return to the dorm room - she remained restless. After so many years of constant pressure, freedom felt unfamiliar and almost threatening.
Her footsteps began to turn toward Spock’s quarters - but, for the first time in months, it felt odd to go there.
Ever since her trip to Vulcan, things had been subtly altered toward them, and Nyota was unsure how, or why. Spock was not shunning her, by any means; when they were together, he was as considerate and attentive as ever. And yet they were not together nearly as often as they had been before. Only now did Nyota realize how often he had sought out her company - now that he had stopped.
Had she offended him on Vulcan? Her memory of the trip was mostly a warp-lagged blur of shimmering heat, frantic document scanning and one drowsy, pleasant breakfast in Lady Amanda’s rose garden. They’d hardly spent enough time together there for her to cause offense in the first place. And Nyota thought she and Lady Amanda had hit it off, so there couldn’t be a problem there. Then she reconsidered. Even if Lady Amanda liked Nyota, a doting mother might take a moment to remind her son about his fiancée, and how easily human women could be misled about his intentions. She would probably have seen that as a kindness to all involved.
Oh, no - what if T’Pring had heard about Spock bringing a woman home with him? They’d walked together through the main streets of Shi’Kahr while many people watched and disapproved. Lady Amanda might not be the only one with doubts, or the only one he had to reassure.
Well, Nyota was clear on Spock’s intentions, or lack thereof. Their friendship had to survive her crush, until she could find a different way of loving him, one that wouldn’t make her feel sick inside every time she thought about his eventual Vulcan marriage. If he thought she wasn’t capable of that - if she sometimes doubted it herself - that was all the more reason to face the issue head-on.
Her idle thought of visiting Spock hardened into resolve. She was always most driven when she knew she had something to prove.
Nyota sent a message ahead, so he would expect her, but when she knocked on the door, it took him a few moments to answer. When the door slid open at last, she saw that she had disturbed him in meditation. “I’m sorry. I should have given you more notice.”
“It is of little consequence,” he said, rising from his mat. He left the candle burning. “Please, sit down. What brings you here?”
He always asked that - it was more or less the same as “hello” for Vulcans, purpose-driven as they were - but this time it made Nyota even more nervous than she already was. She seized upon the first topic that came to mind. “I wanted to talk about the Kobayashi Maru.”
Spock shed his meditation robe, beneath which he wore the knit shirt she liked so much. The candlelight was doing what candlelight did, making everyone look about ten times sexier than usual. Keeping her cool wasn’t going to be easy.
“You must have divined the test’s purpose by now,” he said.
“The purpose is to show us what it means to deal with death. To put us through all of that, so Starfleet Command can see what we do under pressure.”
“I trust the simulation is sufficiently realistic?”
“You’re proud of the damned thing,” she said, smiling ruefully. He cocked one eyebrow, but didn’t deny it. “Don’t get me wrong. I always remember it’s just a simulation. And I’ve understood since about the second time I went through it that there was no way to win. But it still gets to me.”
“Given time, you will become accustomed to the test. Before each year’s command cadets are done, the others often have to be admonished to take the simulation seriously.”
“Can we jump ahead to that part?”
Spock sat next to her on the small couch. Normally he would have taken the chair; this way, their knees were almost close enough to touch. “Nyota, I have observed most of the tests in which you took part. Your courage and skill are invariably on display.”
“I’m not a command cadet. I don’t get graded on this.”
“I am not speaking about your grades. I am speaking about you. If this test has caused you any fears for your greater Starfleet career, it should not. You should take pride in your calm under fire.”
“Are you trying to turn me into a Vulcan?”
She meant it as a joke, but his expression darkened. “I would never wish for that.”
“Okay, okay. I just meant -“ Nyota shook her head, trying hard to find the right words. “You have a level of detachment that’s difficult to understand, sometimes.”
“I am not always detached,” Spock said. He seemed to be studying her face very carefully.
They were so close now. Nyota found her imagination traveling in all the directions she’d tried so hard to avoid - leaning nearer to him, running her hand through his hair, just flat-out jumping him and seeing what he’d do. If this was a test of her ability to put her attraction behind her, she was failing it worse than any cadet had ever failed the Kobayashi Maru.
Deep breaths, she told herself. Spock had wanted to talk about her career. That seemed like a good idea. An appropriate idea. Straightening her tunic, she said, “I haven’t brought this up before, because I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d be breaking regs to talk about it.”
“What subject do you wish to discuss?”
“You don’t have anything to do with our assignments post-graduation, right?”
“Affirmative.” He seemed weirdly thrown by the choice of topic, as if he’d been expecting her to say something else, but he continued, “I could have input on temporary or emergency postings, but your ultimate assignment will be determined by the senior faculty committee.”
“So we should be okay talking about this.” She took a deep breath, which was supposed to be calming but instead caught the scent of his skin. With determination, she focused. “I want the Enterprise. I know it’s the flagship; I know half the class is putting in for her. But I mean to be there. Got any Vulcan-precise probability to back that up?”
“You have demonstrated exceptional aural sensitivity and an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmission tests. Your marks put you in the highest two percent of the class, and your thesis is top-level work. I would surmise that you will get the placement of your choice.”
“Even the Enterprise.” Satisfaction felt sweet.
“Yes. I had long ago calculated your chances of being assigned to the flagship to be greater than 90 percent, even if you had not specifically requested the posting.” Nyota flushed with happiness, but Spock still seemed somewhat hesitant. After a brief pause, he added, “I look forward to serving together with you there.”
“You’re leaving the Academy?” Why did it shock her so much? As fine a teacher as Spock was, he was expert in countless subjects; any ship of the line would welcome him. But no, that wasn’t what had caught her off-guard; it was the news that he would be on the Enterprise with her.
“I only agreed to teach in order to postpone another long-term assignment until the Enterprise was ready for her mission. Captain Pike has offered me the position of science officer.”
“Congratulations,” she said, and she meant it, but she felt slightly as though he had shoved the couch out from under her.
She’d accepted what she felt for Spock because it was worth it to have the chance to know him, to be his friend and learn everything that he had to teach her. Nyota had seen herself bidding him a fond goodbye after graduation, going to her dorm room to spend her last night on campus having a good cry, and then waking up in the morning, tears forgotten, a lifelong friend made and a tour of duty on the Enterprise beckoning her onward.
Instead, she was going to be serving with him for the next five years - and what she felt for him wouldn’t be set aside as easily when they were together every day.
“You seem uneasy. Is the test still troubling your thoughts?”
Nyota couldn’t find the words right away. This was something private, and for all that she sometimes felt like an open book compared to Spock, she didn’t bare her soul very often. Possibly it would be hard on their friendship, too, and no matter what else might happen, she already knew she wanted to remain Spock’s friend for the rest of their lives. “Not the test. There’s something we need to discuss - that I should have brought up a long time ago, probably.”
Spock straightened. As little as he understood of human emotion, he obviously realized that she was leading up to something big, and probably he guessed what it was. “I had also meant to speak with you on a subject of importance, though I had not thought to raise the subject before graduation.”
The dreaded “friends” speech: Despite some curiosity to know what it sounded like coming from a Vulcan, Nyota preferred not to hear it. At least she could preserve something of her dignity by speaking first, and well. “This semester, I’ve been facing my own version of the no-win scenario. I’ve come to care about you very much.” Dammit, she thought, say it. You have to be clear, with Spock. “Romantically, I mean. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Spock’s expression changed, but too subtly to read. She suspected that she’d finally found a way to shock a Vulcan into silence. Nyota felt her throat tightening, but she pushed back the reaction. She was going to keep it together; she wasn’t going to lose Spock as a friend. The only way out was through.
“If we’re going to spend the next five years together, I just need to hear you say that it’s not going to happen. And also, I hope, that we can still be friends. I might need some space for a while, but please don’t think that my - human weakness has made me unable to see you as a fellow officer and a friend.”
Spock’s voice was low when he answered, “I cannot say that.”
Oh, no. She had messed things up even worse than she’d dreamed. “You don’t think we can be friends after this?”
“That was not the assertion to which I was referring.”
“But then-“
Her voice faltered as Spock’s hand brushed against hers.
At first, she felt nothing but pure astonishment - but then the warmth of his touch brought her into the here and now, into her own body and this moment when she realized that he wanted her too.
Two of his fingers stroked the length of two of hers, and then he brought their fingertips together. She sensed that this was important - that it was ritual - but she couldn’t analyze any further. The feel of his skin on hers, just at their fingertips, was enough to blot out everything else.
Nyota slowly intertwined her fingers with his, and he responded by taking her hand. His thumb brushed the inner curve of her wrist, the base of her thumb, the hollow of her palm. She tightened her grasp, holding him closer.
At this moment, he could feel what she felt - all of that was flowing into him through her skin.
Their eyes met, and the jolt of that connection nearly made her gasp. He looked so uncertain, despite the warmth of their touch, and she kept her voice even as she said, “What does that mean? The two fingers, together.”
“It is an expression of affection,” Spock said softly. “Most often shared between bonded spouses in public. The equivalent of a kiss.”
Nyota brought her other hand to his shoulder, then up to caress the curve of his neck. “Vulcans don’t kiss?”
“We do.” Their voices were almost whispers. “But only in private.”
“We’re alone now.”
She took his face in her hands and kissed him. For the first moment, she wondered if somehow she had misjudged him, because he did not immediately respond - but he warmed to her touch, kissing her back.
Their lips broke apart, then came together, more forcefully this time. Spock’s fingers traced along the line of her jaw, down the length of her throat, as if to feel the pounding of her pulse.
This is really happening, she thought. I’m not dreaming. This is real. It surged through her like electricity, so that every inch of her body was aware of nothing else.
His mouth tasted like copper, and his kisses were warmer than she’d ever imagined. As their bodies came together, his hands gripped her shoulders to pull her closer, then tangled in her hair.
Their kisses intensified quickly - one moment their lips weren’t open, and the next they were kissing passionately. His hands slid down her back and found the curve of her hips. Nyota leaned backward, pulling him with her, until she realized that they were seconds from lying down together on the couch or maybe the floor.
She turned her face from his, then almost instantly lost her resolve when his lips found her throat. “Wait,” she gasped. “Wait a second.”
He stopped immediately. “Nyota?”
“I just need a second to -- catch up.”
That probably made no sense to Spock, but he simply embraced her. She hugged him back, her mind racing. Both of them were breathing hard, she realized, and it was something of a thrill to realize she’d gotten a Vulcan hot and bothered.
“Had I realized you were troubled,” Spock said, “I would have spoken before. I would not intentionally have caused you difficulty.”
“I know that. It’s all right.”
Nyota had never seriously considered what it would mean for him to want her as much as she wanted him. It had seemed impossible. Why make plans for the impossible? She’d guarded herself so carefully that she’d never even let herself fantasize beyond the vague thought of a kiss. With the reality here, next to her, she had to look at certain facts for the first time.
“I considered it more appropriate to broach the subject after we were both officers on the Enterprise.” Only Spock could speak so formally while their mouths were only inches apart. “But your human honesty is preferable.”
“We have to be breaking the Academy fraternization rules,” Nyota said as she wrapped her arms more tightly around him. “They never really spell out what fraternization is, but - this has definitely got to qualify.”
“There is a 94.2 percent chance that we will serve together on the Enterprise. No rules forbid shipboard relationships.”
For a moment, her longtime dream blazed brighter than ever before in her mind - brighter than she had known it could burn. But it did not blind her to harder realities. “I hate to mention this now, but we had better talk about, well, your fiancée.”
Spock seemed remarkably unfazed. “I intend to make inquiries as to whether the bonds that tie me to T’Pring can be severed.”
“Oh.” She didn’t seem able to find any words beyond that.
“This does not obligate you to a commitment in any sense,” he added quickly. “It is only that I once believed I could accept a Vulcan union, devoid of emotion. Now I know that I cannot.”
Nyota gazed up at him, her disbelief finally giving way. An awestruck smile illuminated her face. “So we really get to figure this out. We get a chance.”
“Yes.” Spock brushed his fingertips beneath her chin, tilting her face back from his. “I realize that in some contexts I am - not an intuitive choice. But I will endeavor to make you happy, Nyota.”
“Stop apologizing for yourself. Forever. Right now. That’s an order.” Nyota kissed him fiercely.
When their lips parted, he whispered, “Aye.” He cradled her face in his hands, and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed against her cheekbone. Just the heat of that kiss was enough to melt most of Nyota’s resolve. But not all. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her senses.
“This is why you’ve been spending less time with me lately,” she murmured, as her hands settled on his thighs. “You didn’t want us to break the fraternization rules six ways from Sunday.”
His fingertips slid down her throat, along the neckline of her tunic, dipping barely beneath her collarbone - enough to make her whole body taut with anticipation. “I admit to certain - temptations.”
“So we have to be strong.” Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. “To obey the rules.”
“I believe that we are already in violation of the spirit of the rules,” Spock said. His thumb brushed along the lower curve of her lips. “The letter of the law would therefore seem less important.”
“That may be your greatest rationalization yet.” Nyota forced herself to pull away from him - not far, but enough, and she took his hands so that they wouldn’t fall back into a deeper embrace. “You have more to lose from a fraternization inquiry than I do. Student penalties are bad enough, but instructors can be drummed out or Starfleet.”
“Such severe measures are unlikely in the case of a consensual relationship.”
“That’s beside the point. If anybody in authority ever does wake up to the fact that Vulcans have libidos too, I want us to be able to get through questioning with our honesty mostly intact.”
He relaxed slightly, accepting the wisdom of what she said. “Under no circumstances would I wish to compromise your integrity.”
The Victorian sense of the verb “compromise” flickered in her mind. Smiling, she added, “Besides, I was dead-set on the Enterprise before, and now I have even more reason not to let anybody take it away from me.”
“Your discipline in this matter is closer to the Vulcan ideal than my own."
“Don’t get me wrong,” she teased. Had she really been in despair about her feelings for him just half an hour before? And now she was laughing, joyful, wanted, in love. “I’m on the verge of dragging you back to your bunk by the hair, but we have to be careful.”
“An interesting mental image.”
“Me dragging you by your hair?” Nyota laughed.
“And after.” He said that with an arched eyebrow that came very, very close to convincing her to forget the damn bunk and make love to him where they were.
Nyota took a deep breath. “Just one month until graduation. We can make it one month, right?”
“If you wish it.”
“And we have so much to talk about now.”
“Rest assured that I have no intention of neglecting the final proofread of your thesis.”
“We’ve got to work on your pillow talk. I mean, I want to know more about - about what you need from a relationship. With humans, it’s usually pretty obvious.”
“That has not been my observation.” He shifted his right hand, bringing two fingers to hers in the same way he had first touched her. “But I am confident we will understand one another.”
Just those words told her how far they had come.
**
The next three weeks were some of the best she spent at the Academy. Her thesis came back with an A+ and was sent off to the Andoria linguistics conference. The Kobayashi Maru test became routine, or in the case of the obstinate James T. Kirk, obnoxious. Gaila seemed to have five boyfriends at once, which was funny until Nyota walked in on her with the guy who had all the tentacles, which was way too much visual information and called for a new house rule forbidding in-room sex before graduation. She hoped she wasn’t insisting on that just to make sure that if she was stuck with chastity, Gaila was too.
Spock and Nyota met in public, stayed longer after class and were, in all respects, as calm and proper as they had been when they first began working together, if not more. It was almost a game, being as formal as possible while looking at each other and knowing how close they were to graduation night. The anticipation alone was better than most of the sex Nyota had ever had. It seemed like her life was coming together more beautifully than ever before.
And then Vulcan sent out a distress call, and everything shattered and fell apart.
May
The assembly hall of the Enterprise was intended as a place for diplomatic receptions or the occasional crew celebration. Now it hosted a poor shadow of the Vulcan ceremony of mourning.
Spock had attended such mourning ceremonies in the past for various family members. He had knelt in the Hall of Ancient Thought, stood among the Elders and listened to the long genealogies recited in their turn. In the case of those whose deaths had allowed it, the bearer of that Vulcan’s katra released the spirit to join the others in the depths of the Hall, the deepest soul of his homeworld.
That soul - all those countless spirits - had been destroyed along with six billion lives. The enormity of the loss was beyond imagining; the genealogies that of the entire planet. And a few hundred of the few thousand survivors huddled here together, beneath Sol-tinted lighting, breathing sterile air, attempting to somehow do honor to the fallen. Someone had at least provided lit candles, which did little to create the correct mood but was a considerate gesture.
T’Pau, first mother of the House of Surak, held her arms open wide at the center of them all, summoning what remained of her people - though aliens had joined in this ceremony as well. Next to Spock stood Nyota, her hands clasped before her and her eyes shut. Beyond that was Jim Kirk, who had bowed his head in respect.
“For all Vulcan, we mourn,” T’Pau said. “For all Vulcan, we must endure.”
As real and as terrible as the deaths of six billion Vulcans were, one loss beyond any other shrouded Spock’s heart.
For all Vulcan, he thought. For all Vulcan, and one human.
By the time the ceremony had ended, Spock’s emotional control was at its very limit. Nyota did not touch him - mindful of the customs of the Vulcans who surrounded them - but she remained by his side. Jim said, in surprisingly good Vulcan, “I grieve with thee.”
Spock could do no more than nod. He glanced at Nyota as Jim walked away, wondering if she had taught their captain the correct way to respond, but she shrugged. Once again Spock wondered precisely what had passed between Jim and the mysterious “Ambassador Spock” from the alternate reality.
His father came to his side; however, it was to Nyota that he spoke. “You are my son’s student. My wife spoke favorably of you.”
“I grieve with thee,” Nyota repeated. Despite her flawless accent, the words were almost unrecognizable as Vulcan, because of the emotion that trembled beneath the surface. “It was my honor to know the Lady Amanda, though too briefly.”
“We are fortunate that you came to Vulcan,” Sarek said. His voice was dull. “You were the last person to work with many of our most ancient documents. Had you not recorded them at the time, they would be forever lost now.”
Nyota’s eyes filled with tears, and Spock understood that she was weeping because his father could not. Her reply remained thoroughly logical, however: “I am grateful for the chance to share my documentation with the Elders, and to offer whatever other help I can.”
Sarek simply nodded. His eyes met his son’s, and between them there was nothing to be said - no animosity any longer, but no closeness yet either. After a moment, his father turned to go.
Nyota whispered, “Do you need me with you now? Do you need to be alone?”
Sarek’s eyes were open, but he did not seem to see. Grief shadowed every step. He had loved Mother all this time, and now he had lost her. More than anything else, she had wanted the breach between them to be healed.
“I love Vulcan because it is part of him, and part of you. There is nowhere else I would have wished to spend my life. There is no other husband I would ever have wanted, and no other son I could possibly have loved so much.”
“I must remain with my father,” Spock said, willing her to understand. But he need not have worried - Nyota immediately stepped aside, allowing him to leave. That might have moved Spock less, had he not already known there was a good chance he would not return to her side soon, if ever.
**
It was another two days before Spock saw Nyota again. By then they were on Earth once more. Spock had been much concerned with helping his father coordinate the various needs of what interstellar diplomacy called a “displaced population.” As ambassador to Earth, Sarek held much responsibility, and no pause could be taken for grief. Finally, however, late in the second evening, even Sarek had to sleep, and Spock beamed back to Starfleet Academy.
Exhausted as he was, Spock intended to go to Nyota immediately. He realized to his chagrin that he had returned to campus without a communications device of any sort, and he did not wish to extend his parting from her long enough to go to his quarters and obtain one. Instead, he went to her dormitory, hesitated briefly at the door and went inside.
Days ago, visiting Nyota’s room would have resulted in immediate gossip and eventual disciplinary hearings. If only that were still true. Now, the dormitory was nearly empty. This had been a fourth-year dorm; most of the residents had been killed by Nero. Spock’s footsteps echoed in the hallways.
He pressed the panel beside her door and said his name. Within a second, the door slid open, and Spock stepped inside. On the other side of the plexiglass panel, Nyota sat in her robe at the foot of her bed, wiping her eyes. “Nyota?”
“You’re back.” She took one of his hands and kissed it, pressing it to the side of her face. He could feel her tears against his palm, but when she looked up, she tried to smile for him. “How are you?”
“Tell me first what troubles you.”
“I don’t want to burden you further.”
“You are not a burden.” Spock sat next to her on the bed.
“It’s just -“ Nyota held up her PADD; listed on it were the casualty lists from the Battle of Vulcan. “So many friends of mine. So many people I knew. I can’t find out anything about Gaila - everything’s so confused, the Potemkin lists aren’t in yet - but Francois and Nruo’bek and Wei Su, all of them. All of them. They’re gone.”
Spock took her into his arms; she returned the embrace fiercely, and he closed his eyes. His grief, too, knew some surcease now that they were reunited. It made his duty that much harder to face.
Given her distress, he considered not speaking of such matters immediately. But he knew Nyota well enough to know that she would want honesty above all else.
When her weeping stilled, Nyota continued to rest against him. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “How did you leave things with your father?”
“He finds purpose in searching for a home for our people. There is much yet to be done.” Spock could delay no longer. “I must speak with you.”
She pulled back from him, her face already resigned. “I think I know what you’re going to say.” Nyota could not meet his eyes. “I’ve been trying to prepare myself, but - this is hard. Even though I understand. Even though, in your place, I’d probably do the same.”
“My civilization is at risk. Every person is needed to rebuild our culture. I feel as though duty requires me to remain at my father’s side.”
“And to leave Starfleet.”
Spock nodded. Neither of them said that this meant also leaving her; they did not have to. “I would not ask you to abandon your vocation to join me on the colony world, however much I might wish for your presence.”
“No,” she said. “There’s nothing for me to do there - nothing for me on that world except you. I can’t give up my whole life for love. Even if, right this second, I wish I could.” Her hand grasped his so tightly that the sensations bordered on pain.
He took her back into his embrace, meaning only to comfort her. But Nyota’s arms circled his neck, and her mouth found his. They kissed so long and so deeply that his exhaustion and grief were cast out, replaced only by his need for her.
“Stay here with me tonight,” Nyota said, her warm breath against his cheek. “Don’t tell me all the good reasons why we shouldn’t. Just stay.”
His only answer was another kiss.
She tugged away his tunic, helped him slip off his boots. He untied the knot of her robe; there was no reason why the sight of her naked body should be more intensely arousing than the knowledge of their intimacy, and yet he found he could not look away. Better yet was the moment when they lay naked together in her bed, skin against skin, and he could feel not only her body but also her spirit and her thoughts. Her desire for him. Her response to his touch. Her love.
Between kisses, she whispered, “What do you need?” The question was different now than before, the huskiness in her voice an unspoken promise.
“I hardly know. I trust you to guide me. Tell me what would please you.”
“You mean, this is - you haven’t - oh.” Nyota wrapped her arms more tightly around him and kissed his shoulder. “Let me show you.”
She urged him to explore her body, with hands and with mouth, and this he did gladly, surprised at how quickly instinct informed every movement. Surprising also was the amount of pleasure he could give and take through kissing her in unexpected places - earlobes, behind her knees or the back of her neck.
He indulged his old fantasy of placing his hands on the small of her back, then brushed his fingertips along her spine and relished her answering shiver. Nyota twisted on her side, taking one of his hands in hers and bringing it between her legs. He followed her movements, caught the rhythm quickly and listened as her breaths came faster and shallower. Her heart pounded hard enough that he could feel it through her back, against his chest. Quickly he kissed her between her shoulder blades, close to that heartbeat. When she arched her back and cried out, the pleasure that echoed through her and into him was almost dizzying.
Their mouths met again. Her hands caressed him as intimately as he had touched her, and Spock could feel his self-control beginning to slip. “I would join with thee,” he whispered.
“Is that what you say?” Nyota’s voice was breathy and light. “Is that how we begin?” Her thighs slid up his sides, her whole body welcoming him.
“I meant - I would have you feel what I feel.” Spock brought two fingertips to her forehead, where he could create the lighter mental bond desirable at such moments. Her eyes widened as she realized his purpose. “It is only a touch, but if you do not wish it -“
She kissed him deeply, then murmured against his lips, “I want all of you.”
Spock closed his eyes and reached within her mind - only upon the surface, where the most immediate emotions and sensations dwelled, and opened himself to her. Nyota’s astonishment and momentary disorientation echoed within him for a moment, and then her slow, dawning wonder as the psychic joining took hold.
“We’re one,” she gasped, her arms tightening around his back.
He pushed inside her, feeling her cool and tight around him, and knew both the pleasure of his own body and the response of hers, deeper and more intense than before. Nyota cried out; he came close to doing the same. His hand slipped from her forehead, but it did not matter. The bond was complete, fused through their joined bodies.
Mind and body began entangled, inseparable. The memory of their first kiss was as one with the tilt of her hips and the new angle of their joining. The rising sensation arcing between them was no different than their desperate wish not to be parted. The beginning was the end.
He reached a moment of inevitability, surrendered his control to her and was overcome. As he groaned his pleasure against her throat, she climaxed again, answering like for like.
For a few long minutes after that, they remained wrapped around one another, even their breaths in sync, enjoying the enveloping, wordless satisfaction they shared. When Spock felt himself tempted to deepen the psychic joining between them, he forced himself to shunt his body to one side and to again touch her forehead to gently break the link.
Nyota’s hand curved against his cheek. “If I had known how little time we were going to have, I wouldn’t have waited. Not because of any damn Academy regulations.” She smiled unevenly. “I’d have made love to you every chance we got.”
He kissed her softly, but already his attention turned to what he needed to do next. “Vulcan custom and temperament make the expression of emotion difficult. Sometimes even the acknowledgment of emotion is nearly impossible.”
“We seem to have found a way.”
“Given all that has happened, what we have shared, my control is weak.”
“Are you okay?”
“Very much so,” Spock said. “What I feel for you - what we have shared -“ Once again, the words failed him. Even here and now, his Vulcan half held sway. He managed at least to say, “I care for you deeply, and I will continue to do so after we are parted. I know what I will lose, and what I will not.”
Nyota smile was both joyful and sad; she understood what he had not been able to say. “I love you too,” she murmured. Then she hugged him tightly, burying her face in the curve of his neck. He breathed in the soft scent of her skin and willed himself to remember what it had been like, to be understood, to be loved.
**
The next morning felt - like nothing at all. Not nightmarish, not tragic, not even real.
Nyota did not cry; she had done her weeping at dawn, when by mutual agreement Spock had left her room. She did not want to shower away the scent of his skin, or remake the bed by tossing aside the rumpled sheets where they had made love, but she did both with quiet efficiency. Although all classes and meetings were canceled, she dressed herself in her cadet reds, straightening her jacket, adjusting her insignia.
Today of all days, she needed to remember who she was, and the future that lay ahead for her.
Nyota wanted something to do. Anything. But for the first time in four years, no tasks awaited her. Never would she have imagined that empty hours could feel so much like a jail. Finally she made up her mind to send communiqués to the families of Wei Su, Francois and Nruo’bek. It wouldn’t be much comfort, but it was all she could do. She’d attach some of the band’s recordings, too.
Although she could have recorded the messages from her dormitory, Nyota knew she needed to spend as much of her day elsewhere as possible. She started across campus to the xenolinguistics lab, which had its own computer centers she could use. This took her farther away from the faculty quarters, which struck her as a good idea as well.
The campus was so empty. Only a handful of lowerclassmen hung around, all of them huddled together and quiet like tiny mice. Nyota wondered if everyone else had been sent home. And the shuttlepad was all but empty: Normally a constant buzz of traffic came in and out, but only one shuttle was landing. She glanced over, more out of habit than from genuine curiosity, but then she froze.
The people stumbling out were clearly injured and dazed; some wore duty uniforms, others coveralls that looked like Spacedock extras. These were survivors of the Battle of Vulcan.
Everyone stood at attention to honor the survivors, including Nyota. She remembered the horror of emerging from warp to see the burning wrecks tumbling through space around them. Within that chaos had been a handful of evacuation pods, and what the cadets and officers must have endured was unimaginable.
And then -- amid the survivors emerging was one who limped on her left foot, and whose skin was bright green.
Nyota sucked in a breath and started running toward Gaila as fast as she could. Gaila began running too, her arms open wide, halting on her injured foot but not stopping until the moment they slammed into each other’s arms. The impact took them down to the ground, but it didn’t matter. Nyota wrapped her arms around her roommate, crying so hard that she couldn’t see.
“We made it,” Gaila said between sobs. Disbelief quivered in her voice. “I don’t know how, but we made it.”
Tightening her arms around her roommate, Nyota said, “You’re home now. You’re safe. Everything’s going to be all right.” For the first time that day, joy pierced her sorrow, and Nyota could remember that not everything was lost.
**
“Lieutenant Uhura - there you are.” Jim Kirk fell into step beside her as they walked through the corridors of the Enterprise - which had become, for both of them, home. He looked almost indecently happy; she might have thought it unbecoming to an officer if she hadn’t been smiling nearly as broadly herself. “I’d just like to take this occasion to say that I’m glad you’re on board. There’s no other communications officer in the fleet that I’d rather have in charge.”
“And I’d just like to take this occasion to thank you for not using my first name, even though you’ve found out what it is.”
“Like I always say, I can wait until you give it to me,” Kirk said, utterly without the flirtatious undercurrent she would have expected. Either he’d finally given up or he understood the concept of a “decent interval.” On reflection, though, Nyota thought he had already found the great love of his life; it shone from him as he looked over his new ship. Maybe that would be enough for him, for now. “I’m double-checking my personal supply transport logs before we ship out - you know how Spacedock loves to lose people’s luggage. See you later.”
Nyota took the turbolift to the bridge, which shone white and silver. Every evidence of damage from the final battle against Nero had been repaired. Hikaru Sulu sat at the helm, an almost reverent look on his face as he passed his hand over his control panel; next to him, Pavel Chekov was not actually bouncing with excitement, but it was obvious he was fighting a hard battle to keep from doing so.
You should be here, Spock, she thought, not for her sake but for his. He had wanted this as badly as she had, and for even longer. When Nero destroyed Vulcan, he had destroyed both Spock’s past and his future. Nyota could only hope that, on the colony world, Spock would finally be accepted as an equal member of Vulcan society and perhaps find the peace he had so long sought.
She relieved the young man at her duty station and began handling the barrage of communications traffic that preceded any launch: Last-minute personnel changes, loving farewells to family members, safety and engineering checklists in excruciating detail, etc. None of this called upon her advanced skills - in fact, it was fairly mind-numbing - but it was part of the job, and Nyota meant to do it well.
A message from Winona Kirk to her son Jim: Sent to his personal datastream. A recording from Dr. McCoy to a Joanna McCoy - hmm, he was supposed to be divorced, but maybe it was a sister: Routed to the AmSouth Regional Net for further distribution. Dock control confirmed readiness to launch: She would report that in person. Warp drive checklist confirmation from Montgomery Scott to Starfleet Command: Slotted. A notice from Starfleet Command about the assignment of a Chief Science Officer to the Starship Enterprise: This was in writing, so Nyota glanced at it before patching it through to Command-All -
--and she froze.
Her heart leapt even as her brain denied it. You read it wrong. You must have. It’s just - wishful thinking. This can’t be real.
But she kept staring at the words, which remained constant. Her fingers stayed on the job, dutifully routing the message where it needed to go, but her mind seemed to have gone blank with joy.
The turbolift doors swooshed open, and Jim Kirk stepped out. Pride shone from him so strongly that it was like someone had added extra bridge lighting all of a sudden. Sulu glanced over his shoulder and said, “Maneuvering thrusters and impulse engines at your command, sir.”
Chekov chimed in, “Weapons systems on standby.”
Somehow, Nyota managed to say, “Dock Control reports ready, Captain.” She gave the rank the extra emphasis it deserved, now that he had actually earned it.
Kirk walked across his bridge, sparing a quick glance over at McCoy. “Bones! Buckle up. Scotty … how’re we doing?
Over the intership communications, Scott’s voice replied, “Dilithium chambers at maximum!”
The ship was ready to go. Raring to go. Nyota imagined it like a thoroughbred stamping at the ground, eager to run.
At that moment, the lift doors slid open again, and Spock stepped out.
It hadn’t been a dream. It hadn’t been wishful thinking. Nyota gripped her panel so tightly that her fingers hurt.
Spock first stepped to Jim’s side. “Permission to come aboard, Captain.”
“Permission granted.” Kirk looked both as surprised and as happy as Nyota felt herself.
“As you have yet to select a first officer, respectfully, I would like to submit my candidacy.” Spock’s voice became even drier, in the way that usually meant he was joking. “Should you desire, I can provide character references.”
Kirk said, with sincerity Nyota had rarely heard from him before, “It would be my honor, Commander.” He took a deep breath, obviously settling into a place of near-total satisfaction. “Maneuvering thrusters, Mr. Sulu.”
As Spock walked to his station, he glanced at Nyota. Their eyes met for only a moment, but that was more than enough to tell her that he had returned not only to Starfleet, but also to her.
Grinning, she turned back to her station, trying hard to retain professional decorum and not actually laugh out loud on the bridge.
Sulu called, “Thrusters on standby.”
From his chair - finally at home - Kirk said, “Take us out.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Sulu said as he shifted the helm controls.
The Enterprise slipped into warp, stretching their world into infinity.
**
After alpha shift ended, Spock joined Jim and Scotty for a briefing regarding their first mission. Nyota, at liberty, returned to her quarters to wait for what felt like the longest half-hour of her life. The nervous energy could be burned off by finishing her unpacking, she decided, and she whisked through it - slowing down only once, when she took out Nruo’bek’s drum. His people believed in giving away the possessions of the dead, and they had asked her to keep this. She tucked it into a corner near her bed and resolved to learn to play it soon.
Just as she gave the skin an experimental tap, her door chime sounded.
“Come in,” Nyota called. Her pulse quickened.
Spock stepped through the doors, which closed behind him with a swoosh. His hands were folded behind his back in a formality she hadn’t seen in him for months. “I had wanted to see you.” She noticed that he used neither her name nor her title. Apparently he was unsure of his welcome. “I trust you are settling in well.”
“Spock - you’re here. You came back to Starfleet. Why?” She took a deep breath. “Was it because of me?”
“In large part.”
“So, not only me.”
Spock had the look of a cornered man, but he held his ground. “It is important to be completely forthright in this matter. You were one of many important factors that changed my decision.”
“But only one.”
He squared his shoulders. “Yes.”
“Thank goodness.” Nyota leaned heavily against the wall, so relieved she felt nearly limp. At his evident surprise, she added, “I don’t want you here because you’re coming after me, Spock. I want you here because we’re headed in the same direction.”
Subtly, his body language softened as he realized that she was not angry. “I regret not informing you of my changed plans in advance. My ultimate decision was made after I had already sent a letter of resignation to Starfleet. There was some concern that my re-enlistment could not be processed in time for me to ship out with the Enterprise, but Admiral Pike intervened. Though I regretted having to rely on preferential treatment, in this case a deviation from protocol seemed to be called for.”
“I would say it was definitely called for.” Nyota sat at her cabin’s small table, hoping Spock would join her, but he remained standing and apparently uncertain. Some prying seemed to be called for. “What changed your mind?”
“Do you recall my speculation about the presence of my future self from an alternate timeline?”
“Yes.” At the time, Nyota had heard Spock out mostly to humor him, thinking this bizarre bit of speculation to be a form of Vulcan denial. Her eyes widened as she realized it had been true. “He really came through? Is this about the alternate timeline?”
“Not directly. But I spoke with him: a curious experience. He indicated that he would help establish the Vulcan colony world, quite literally in my place. He urged me to continue my career in Starfleet and upon the Enterprise. He seemed quite certain that Jim Kirk and I would someday be good friends. And he told me to - to ignore logic and do what felt right.”
She tried to imagine a Spock who would say such a thing, a man who could be so completely free of Vulcan expectations and sure of himself. Someday, maybe, if they were both lucky, this Spock would grow into the same kind of man. Softly, she said, “Then I’m glad this is what felt right.”
Spock straightened again, still mysteriously uncertain in her presence. “I realize that my original decision to leave Starfleet wounded you deeply,” he said. “If you presently consider our relationship to be terminated, I accept your judgment and ask only that I be permitted to demonstrate my willingness to compensate for the hurt I have caused you. In time, perhaps you will reconsider.”
Nyota rose from her chair, took Spock’s face in her hands and kissed him as hard as she could. At first he didn’t seem to believe she was really taking him back - but then his arms slid around her shoulders. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. She laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “This relationship is not terminated. Not by a long shot.”
“I am glad to know it.” His hands smoothed their way down her back, long lazy strokes that made her tingle. “I have missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She caressed the line of his jaw and even ran a fingertip along one of his ears. “Do you need to review the sciences duty roster? Or unpack? I can help you settle in, if you want.”
“I need to do both of those tasks, and others besides, but for the time, such matters can wait.”
“Yeah?”
Spock reached out to the cabin’s control panel and lowered the lights. “Affirmative.”
THE END