Command and control.
Command and Control.
1. Military. The exercise of lawful authority and direction over assigned forces for the accomplishment of missions and tasks.
2. Computer security and cyber-warfare. The influence an attacker has over a compromised computer system that they control. (-Wikipedia)
The walk back to the conference room was exactly two hundred and forty one steps. It was also one of the longest Spock could remember having taken.
His shipmates gave him uncertain glances as he walked briskly through the corridors.
Some of them seemed to want to speak to him, asking him to settle the confusion that had engulfed the ship in the last few hours.
Surely their First Officer hadn't really committed mutiny?
Stolen the ship?
Was this a first contact situation with some society down on the planet?
Was this a drill? And if it is, exactly how badly are we scoring, Commander, Sir?
Even his arrest on the bridge did not seem to have shaken their basic faith in him, now that he was walking unhindered through the ship, unaccompanied by security personnel for the first time in a day. He could sense no animosity from them, just a need for reassurance. It was a gift that was as unexpected as it was undeserved.
They could simply not imagine that he had really done what he had done.
It was on that thought that he reached the conference room, pausing for a few moments before stepping in range of the sensor.
The door remained closed.
He hesitated for a second, and then pushed the buzzer.
"Captain? Spock, reporting as ordered."
"Just a minute, Mr. Spock," came the reply back, distractedly.
He waited. Lieutenant Riley jogged past, a torn-out communications relay in his hands and a pained expression on his face. If Uhura had to physically reset her consoles to regain control, she must be in a deep, frustrated battle with the overrides he had inserted when he took control of the ship.
He ignored the silent plea for help in Riley's gaze. He was uncertain what awaited him on the other side of that door, but he did not think that initiatives of any kind were welcome at this point. It was unclear whether he still had any right to issue orders on this ship or not.
The door whisked open, and ensign Yao exited, pushing an empty anti-grav cart. He gave Spock a weak smile, and hurried along.
Spock entered. The conference room was still set up for the court martial, but a few additions had been made in the last ten minutes. A computer console had been installed on the conference table. It was one of the crude, heavy-duty ones that could take a Klingon disruptor bolt and still be pieced together afterwards with minimal loss of packages. Starfleet always maintained that they were unhackable. Something that he had just recently proven wrong.
Several pads lay on the table as well, in regularly spaced intervals, and the captain was putting one down, and taking another one up. He had a comm-extension in his ear, and seemed to be listening to something or someone. He glanced up at Spock and gestured to a chair.
"Have a seat."
"I would rather stand, Sir."
"I'm sure you would."
The comment was not unkind, but there was a sense of steel underneath, an expectation of compliance. He sat, very straight, slightly uncertain what to do with his hands, wishing he could stand and tuck them away behind his back in parade rest. He settled for resting them in his lap. He urgently needed a chance to meditate and reinforce his controls.
The captain put down the pad, and took up the next one, making an adjustment to the ear-piece. He was rotating through ship's channels, monitoring his crew's progress. It was the kind of task that Spock usually did, monitoring and coordinating the different departments and labs - only delivering a summary to the captain as - and if - necessary.
It was clearly not something he would be allowed to assist with at the moment.
After another minute, Kirk finally spoke, eyes scanning a pad with a frown. He was clearly not pleased with what he was hearing.
"How long would it take you to release the computers?"
"Approximately four point three minutes, Captain. With your permission…"
"Permission denied."
Spock blinked. He sought his words with care.
"Captain, the safety of the ship..."
"Is not your concern at the moment."
Kirk gave a last glance at the report, then removed the com-link from his ear, placed it on the table and sat down. He toggled a few switches on the computer and then leaned back and, at long last, gave his full attention to his first officer.
Spock knew that his emotional control was disastrously low. The captain's calm, measured gaze seemed to see through it with an ease that he, previously to meeting this human, had only ever associated with the Kolinahr-trained masters of his youth. Kirk could react with white-hot anger when opposed, but he was at his most formidable when he went past it to cold, incisive insight. At such moments he often displayed an emotional control that could impress any Vulcan.
It certainly impressed Spock at the moment.
During the court martial, Kirk had struggled with his anger, seeped in confusion and disbelief, just trying to reach Spock, so that he could understand what had happened. To lose command of the Enterprise was Kirk's biggest fear, the thing that haunted his nightmares in the same way that losing self-control haunted Spock's. Spock had seen him push through that to try to save his First Officer, even as the ship was hurtling through the Galaxy to some unknown danger. It had been a devastating act of disloyalty to ignore that outstretched hand and continue the deception with the Talosians. Spock, who valued loyalty in general, and to this man in particular, as the highest of virtues, felt his failure in every part of his body. He was exhausted.
Kirk's voice was calm and collected, "We have buoys out as outriders - a five minute head start should be enough to go to warp if danger comes. We're going to hang around here for awhile, until Starfleet's diplomatic team arrives, and I am satisfied that I have this ship under control." He glanced at the computer screen, and then back at Spock. Suddenly his voice was hard.
"Did your plan to steal this ship include giving faulty instructions to your department, rendering them selectively incapable of withstanding certain security threats that you intended to exploit?"
Shock seeped through Spock's control. "No, Sir."
"Have you withheld any knowledge of security weaknesses in this ship's computers from official reports?"
"No, Captain. The plan to take this ship was conceived and executed solely in the last eight days, using security holes that I have previously documented at length."
"And I'm sure that Starfleet Command will treat those reports with a lot more care after this."
Kirk leaned forward slightly. "Now, if that is the case, would you care to comment on the fact that this ship's crew, said to be the best and brightest of Starfleet, officers that you yourself have trained in computer security, have been unable, even after two days of attempts, to regain control of the mainframe?"
Spock hesitated. This was not the direction he had expected this interview to take. But he could see the cold displeasure in his captain's eyes, and struggled to shift gears.
"Captain, the crew is well versed in handling outside attacks. My credentials enabled me to gain direct access to system internal databases…"
Kirk snorted. "And the fact that Klingons or Romulans could turn a senior officer, be it through coercion or bribery, never entered into any of your training scenarios?"
Spock swallowed. "Sir, such scenarios have been considered and run, but the main focus has always been on outside attempts on disruption. It is clear, now, that that focus was an... oversight."
"The word you are looking for, Mr. Spock, is unacceptable."
Kirk glanced at the computer, and held up a hand to forestall any response. A few seconds later, clearly according to some pre-determined schedule, the intercom came to life.
"Sulu to Captain Kirk."
"Kirk here."
The helmsman sounded tired, his voice clipped. "Sir, we have freed another four booster relays from the slave controls."
"And at this rate, how long until I will be able to lay in a course of my own, Lieutenant?"
There was a brief pause on the other end.
"At least a week, Captain." Kirk let his silence communicate how he felt about this estimate.
After a few moments, Sulu continued, voice low but resilient.
"Helm requests additional manpower from the Computer labs, Sir."
"Request denied, lieutenant. You have the resources you have. Make them count. Figure this out. Kirk out."
Spock felt new and entangled emotions slip through his control. "Sir, this is my fault. I will accept any and all disciplinary measures that you deem appropriate, but I ask that you to let me help the junior officers. The trojans that I have inserted in the programming have ship-wide reach, and this is a very complex problem to solve without the passwords."
"We regularly encounter intelligences whose computer powers are hundreds of years more advanced than ours, Commander. I will not tolerate that my crew cannot throw off a hacking attack by a mere Vulcan."
The captain's arguments were logical, but Spock could not help himself. "Captain. Please, this is…" he faltered.
Kirk studied him, and then something in his glance softened slightly. "I'm not totally unsympathetic to what you're going through right now, Commander. But I think you'll live through it."
Something on one of the pads caught the captain's attention and he once again held up his hand in a silent command, and leaned back to frown at the rapidly updating information.
Spock entertained and discarded a hundred different strategies. The current frenzy of activity around the ship had come as a surprise, and it should not have. He was also thrown by the captain's focus on the security situation, as if he already, uncharacteristically fast, had passed by what Spock felt was a personal betrayal, no matter how unavoidable.
When Kirk glanced up next from the pad, he seized the chance.
"Captain, I wish to apologize."
"For what, exactly, Mr. Spock?" The captain's tone was (possibly deceptively) mild, and Spock felt himself suddenly uncertain about his response.
"I commandeered this ship. I left you behind on the station."
"Yes, I noticed that." Still that calm tone. There was something about it that Spock recognized, but he could not place it. "Well, I applaud your intentions in saving Captain Pike. As for your methods... I thought you said, not twenty minutes ago, that your actions in this matter were in all ways dictated by logic? If so, can there be anything to apologize for?"
Could there indeed. There can be no offense where none is taken, as Surak himself had said. Spock could not shake the impression that some offense should be taken in this situation. "I cannot dismiss the fact that there might have been alternative methods that might have affected the same outcome, by less… drastic means."
"Ah. But surely you considered all alternatives?"
"It is possible… that I did not."
Kirk merely looked at him. It wasn't a hostile look, but Spock found himself floundering.
"There was not much time," he volunteered, finding himself filling the silence, wishing to explain.
And then he knew why the captain's tone, the whole structure of the conversation, was familiar. It was a textbook example of a peculiar form of dressing down, that he had observed the captain sometimes use, most often with junior officers. He had noted it and analyzed it as far as he was able, as he routinely did with many aspects of the captain's leadership techniques. Spock had, privately, classified it as a kind of Socratic questioning - gentle questions that encouraged the other to talk, herding them to a particular viewpoint, making them realize the extent of their error rather than bluntly pointing it out to them.
He had also noted that the likelihood that these Socratic questions would be chosen, seemed to increase with the level of guilt and uncertainty in the errant crew member.
The realization made the full force of intentional Vulcan conditioning slam down. Impressions and perceptions were abruptly analyzed as only detached data, far removed from any emotional connotations. His back straightening even further. Any hint of facial expressions disappeared.
The Masters taught that guilt was a particularly destructive feeling, more than capable of leading the rational thought astray. Singularly useless. If it must be acknowledged as existing, it should certainly not be imposed on others. He sat silently, awaiting orders.
Kirk clearly noted the change, his body becoming stiffer automatically in response. The more Spock detached from his own emotions, the harder it was to understand those of the humans around him. But long experience with this particular human led him to believe that Kirk's gaze was expressing disappointment, possibly even frustration, with his withdrawal.
Spock pondered this for a second, and then, slowly, consciously, stripped the conditioned control away, forcing himself to move closer to his emotions. It was distinctly unpleasant, but it was a very small price to pay, if it was what the captain wanted.
To what realization was it, that the captain wished to herd him? He had found meditation difficult, after learning of the short time window available to get Captain Pike to the banned planet of Talos. He had been utterly unable to conceive of an alternative to appropriating the ship and kidnapping Pike. Now, in hindsight, several other possible methods suggested themselves - possibilities that had remained elusive before.
It led him to a bitter, but nearly conclusive, realization. "It is possible that… I panicked." He deliberately made himself choose a word that he would normally had shied from using about himself, no matter how appropriate.
Kirk looked at him for a long while, nine point five second, and then said, voice heavy with frustrated affection and sarcasm. "No, really? You think so?" He gave Spock a small smile then, as the Vulcan struggled to find a response to this.
The intercom beeped, and Kirk turned back to it, shaking his head a little, the smile still playing on his lips.
"Uhura to Captain Kirk."
"Kirk here."
"Captain, you wanted an update" The communications officer sounded immensely frustrated, and slightly out of breath. Like most other senior crew, she hadn't had much sleep lately. "I've had it with these programming solutions, they just don't work. Both the function libraries and the running code are affected. We want to create virtual copies of one disk at a time, compare them to backups with an earlier time-stamp, yank the entire physical board, and then I'm going to manually inspect every damned super-package before I insert it in this bloody…"
She trailed off as she realized who she was talking to, and continued in a style much closer to her customary, professional tone. "I apologize, Captain. That was out of line."
"Not at all, Uhura. It's nice to notice that someone is as tired of the lack of progress as I am. Bring that plan down to briefing room C as soon as you can."
He turned back to his First Officer. "Did you wonder why I'm not doing this from the bridge or auxiliary control?" He didn't wait for a response. "It's because it looks like a bomb has exploded in there. Half the consoles are stripped, supplementary boards everywhere, people running around like ants. One of the perks of being captain is that you can transfer your frustration to your department heads fairly easy."
"I do not think it has escaped anyone that you are displeased, Captain."
"You know, I don't think so either."
The door buzzer sounded, and Kirk pressed the unlock button. The doors slid aside and revealed Uhura, who must have been in the nearby Auxiliary control. Her hair was slightly out of place from having her head inside consoles for the last few hours, and she had a tense look in her eyes. She took in the court martial bell still on the table, the computer workstation, and her two superior officers. She looked uncertain for a moment - rumors were running wild about what had actually happened, but here Spock and Kirk sat, apparently calmly discussing the situation around the conference table.
She walked up to the captain and handed him a pad. "Here you go, Sir. We want to start with communications, but the same solution should work for the other systems as well."
Kirk looked through the plan for a few minutes, his officers waiting in silence. Then he handed the pad over to Spock, who only hesitated for a second before taking it. "What do you think, Commander?"
Spock scrolled through the pad, going through the specifications far quicker, being more familiar with both the systems and the current problem. He nodded. If Kirk was determined not to let him disable the programs he had inserted, this would scrub the systems clear, in a slow, methodical manner. It was an inelegant, brutal solution, clearly something one settled on once everything else had been tried. But it would work.
"This should prove effective, Captain."
"Good. Then this is what's going to happen. Spock, you're going to remove the program from here." He indicated the computer console. "Remove it from every system except the first and secondary systems of auxiliary coms, auxiliary helm, auxiliary life support and three deep storage memory banks, I don't care which ones. Then you" he pointed at Uhura "are going to get the relevant department heads together in Aux, and you are going to implement this plan on the secondary systems, leaving the primary ones infected."
"And you are going to do it in less than an hour. If at first you don't succeed, which I suspect you won't, clone the primary infected systems over to the secondary ones, and try again. As many times as you need, until the response time is satisfactory. Mr. Spock," he continued, glancing at the Vulcan, "will not be helping. But he will be monitoring your progress."
Uhura's eyes had widened in surprise, "Then this is all a drill?"
"What did you think it was?" responded Kirk with equanimity.
"No, well, we didn't know... " She took a deep breath and turned to Mr. Spock. "Sir, I think I speak for the entire senior crew when I say that we're sorry that we've let you down. We've run your training scenarios on these kinds of attacks - we should have been able to adapt much quicker. We'll get that response time down, I promise you."
Kirk was fairly sure that he was the only one who could have seen the flicker of distress that passed through Spock's face before it was buried. The Vulcan inclined his head towards the lieutenant and followed Kirk's lead in not contradicting her assumptions.
"You have approached a very complex problem with fortitude and resolve, Lieutenant. Please convey my appreciation to the rest of the senior crew. I have every faith in your abilities."
She blinked, but then her tired lines was transformed by a sunny smile at the unexpected compliment. "I'll be sure to let them know, Sir."
"You can add my appreciation as well, lieutenant," said Kirk. "We have some ways to go before I am happy with the state of affairs, but," he transferred his gaze to Spock, "we're getting there."
She nodded and left. Kirk went up and indicated that Spock should use the console. He re-attached the ear-piece and started perusing the pads, following along as Spock released system after system. As the grip that the Science Officer's code had had on the computer banks and control systems relaxed, Kirk let himself appreciate the elegance of the invading parasite, now that it was finally leaving his ship.
"This is actually a pretty impressive piece of work, Spock." It was the first time he had dispensed with titles since Spock had returned.
"I am gratified that you appreciate it, Captain."
Spock's wry comment was a little hesitantly made. It made Kirk laugh, and he felt some of the tension from the last few days leaving him. He sat down with one hip on the table, and Spock tilted his head up to look at him.
"Captain… I have always been gratified by the trust that you have had in me. I believe it greatly improved our efficiency as a command team. I would appreciate it if you could advice me on some course of action on my part that could restore some of that trust."
Kirk looked at him intently for several long moments, and then said, softly, "I don't think there's anything you can do, Spock."
The words were gentle, but Spock had to close his eyes for a moment, to process the shock wave they sent through him. Kirk gave him another searching look, and then went up, over to the wall. It was a while before he spoke.
"There's about a meter of insulation and wiring that separates us from space right here." He knocked softly on the hull. "A thin line, spun together from craftsmanship and hope, between you, me, the four hundred and twenty eight other people on this ship that are our responsibility, and death. Asphyxiation... radiation... the gravity from the planet... a thousand thousand other deaths."
He stroked the ship, feeling the slight vibrations of the engines coursing through her, and him. He turned back to Spock, one hand still grounded on the wall.
"Every second, this machine and the people on her need to make decisions that keep us alive, keep us sailing, reaching out and exploring. And more often than not, the person having to make the most critical decisions is me."
"And I can't do it if I don't trust my First Officer. I can't."
"I've gotten used to relying on your information absolutely, on your judgment and skill. You're my safety net. And it works spectacularly well. Do you know some people think we have a mental link? Maybe we do, after all those mind melds…"
Spock's gaze was inscrutable. This was not the place for that discussion. Kirk continued, slowly, "I can't go back, I won't go back, to laboriously checking and evaluating the information my First gives to me, not when I know that I can have this. I need... to trust you."
"So, I'm going to. I'm going to give you my trust, my complete trust, because that's the only way that this is going to work."
Spock was still seated, chair swiveled halfway out from the table towards the captain. Kirk slowly, fingers trailing, moved his hand from the hull and took the few steps over to Spock, resting the hand on his shoulder instead, gaze intent, almost vulnerable.
"The bottom line is this: if you ever decide to deceive me like this again, there's a big chance that it's going to work. Please, Spock. Please don't."
It was, after a series of actions this last hour that shouted command, a simply worded plea. Spock felt it tear at the few mental controls he had left. He forced himself not withdraw, and, heedless of telepathic propriety, poured all the loyalty he felt outward. He could hear a hoarseness in his voice, and found he did not care.
"I will not."
Kirk's hand tightened on his shoulder for a moment, and then withdrew. "That's all I need to hear." He plunked down, tiredly, in the next chair, attention still very much on the Vulcan, but with the tension dissipating fast.
"You can barely keep your controls up. You're exhausted."
"A lot of people on this ship are exhausted, Captain. If I could prepare the exercise in Aux control, the officers could get a few hours respite…"
"Nope." Kirk said, cheerily uncompromising.
"I could…"
"No. Whatever it is, no, you may not. You may go to your quarters and meditate, and then start monitoring at 2200 hours. I need you to take the bridge for delta shift, and I need you to write a report about this whole…" he gestured, searching for a word, "affair by 0600 tomorrow, in preparation for what I am sure will be a thoroughly miserable joint interview with Komack that we're going to have sometime in the early morning hours."
"That has been scheduled?"
"No, but it will be as soon as he hears about this. And I'm not going to let you face him alone, or he might transfer you to be science officer of a garbage scowl somewhere off Mars, and I'll have to go there and sneak you out, and everything will be terribly complicated."
Spock looked bewildered, not quite keeping up with the conversation, and with a laugh, Kirk took pity on him. "Go on, go meditate, you're dismissed. Let's have breakfast and discuss that report at 06."
"Yes, Sir." Spock got up and for a moment it looked like he might say something else, but he subsided.
There would be plenty of time later, and he had his orders.
Author's note: Done and done! What do you think? Please leave a review!
And a big shout out to MaryChapel, my great beta-reader for this story, who managed to find and fix so many issues with this piece.