This scene takes place on the bridge during the events of And the Children Shall Lead.
His mind was so disciplined, so inviolable, that at first he was not aware of any influence at all.
The captain strode from officer to officer, trying to will or force some sensibility into them. Uhura was the next one to succumb to the strange power the alien entity exerted over most of them, her face crumpling at whatever vision only she could see in the small, non-regulation mirror that had appeared over her station.
"Lieutenant, what are you staring at?"
The captain was trying to snap them to attention, using a military tone, and counting on their instincts to serve and obey. It had worked before, but Spock could see at a glance that Uhura's horror of her reflection was too overwhelming to allow her to obey. Such it often was when the beast was summoned within the human being.
"I see my death!" The communications officer, veteran of dozens of risky surface missions, who had faced her own death uncountable times, was reduced to terrified gasps by her vision. "A long death. Disease and pain. I see my death!"
"Lieutenant!" Kirk snapped, peering into the mirror. Spock could read his frustration. "There's nothing there!"
"Oh, God! Captain, don't let it be!"
Spock nodded slightly. Everyone on the bridge felt such trust in their captain they even felt that he could save them from death—and with good reason. He had done so a hundred times.
Spock felt a sudden surge of emotion, but he had little trouble recognizing it. He'd felt it many times before. It was the urge to support the captain, to take care of him, to make sure he had everything he needed in the instant before he needed it. It was the captain's job to make sure that Uhura and all the others didn't face that kind of death. He would do so again, and Spock would make sure he had everything he needed to do it.
"Mister Spock, you make the call to Starfleet."
Spock pursed his lips. He should have been halfway to that action before the captain even spoke. He turned to the console as the captain turned to the helm.
"Mister Sulu, I ordered you to change course!"
Sulu did not move. His eyes were wide, his hands shaking, and Spock surmised he was paralyzed with fear. Spock noted it with a mixture of concern and disdain; humans were so susceptible to fear and had few disciplines with which to control it. Even the captain was growing alarmed at the way things were going.
But Spock would not let him be afraid; he would take care of him. In fact, he thought as his hand reached for the auxiliary communications console, the captain didn't really need to contact Starfleet at all. The captain was bold and ingenuous, and he, Spock, was analytical and physically agile. Jim and Spock, the two of them together, could handle this alien menace as they handled everything together.
Spock made up his mind. All would be well; Jim need only depend on him. He was not one to disobey orders, but the captain was determined to find a way around the destructive influence of the alien entity, and therefore Spock would help him, as he always did, and together they would vanquish the threat.
"Captain," he said, straightening from the console. "Why are we bothering Starfleet?"
He had intended to continue with an explanation, but the look on the captain's face stopped him. Spock was not skilled at interpreting human emotions, but he knew Jim Kirk.
"That was an order, Spock."
Betrayal.
The look on Jim's face said as clearly as words that Spock had betrayed him. That was wrong, he had to explain, make the captain understand that all was well.
"The bridge is under complete control."
"Complete?"
"There is no need."
"Take a look around you."
The captain was right. Nobody on the bridge was doing his duty. Spock suppressed a surge of horror and turned back to the console, his only thought now to obey orders. He thrust out his hand to complete the transmission.
This is not logical, Spock. He will not need you if you call for help. He will never trust you again. You alone are sufficient help for him.
His hand stopped, out of his control, and his thoughts with it.
He had never disobeyed orders, not while in his right mind. Jim had given him a direct order. He pushed his hand forward again. Jim had given him a direct order. His hand could move no further.
He straightened. "Captain, I regret that I am unable to carry out your order." He ignored the relief that settled on him. He had tried, but it was for the best. His assistance would be enough.
Fury spasmed across Kirk's face, and he spun toward the child.
The child did not look afraid—not like a boy should be in the face of a grown man's rage. Instead he wore a sneer on his face.
With good reason, Spock realized. The captain was getting more and more frustrated, and though he hid it well, frantic. But it was futile to resist, and Spock did not like to see him so upset. The alien presence was ancient, powerful, and inexorable. The only logical option was to cooperate with it and become part of its glorious plans.
As in chess, when one was outmatched…
The captain strode up to the upper deck. A security guard was standing there and Kirk barked out an order.
Everyone looked at each other. Whatever the captain was saying, nobody could understand him. Spock glanced at the children. They were shaking their fists up and down…and laughing. The captain spoke louder, more emphatically, but the guard just stared at him bemusedly.
We have to get off this bridge.
Spock squeezed his eyes shut.
No! You must help the captain take his part in our glorious plan. You must see how valuable he will be to us.
Yes, of course, it was perfectly logical. He must help the captain. The captain was too valuable.
Yes. I will call his beast and he will be easier to control. You will obey and serve me and be part of our glorious mission.
Spock straightened. That thought had not come from him. He would never try to control Captain Kirk. The entity had revealed itself.
I obey and serve one man, and only him.
He pressed his fingers to his temple and finally felt the presence in his mind. He shook his head against it. I am a Vulcan. He gathered all his mental strength and pushed. The being roared in fury, and Spock felt a nearly overwhelming desire to submit, to obey, anything to relieve the pressure the being was exerting on his mind.
But he could still hear Jim, his voice distorted, his command questioned by the confused, fearful crew.
You will not harm him. I will protect him from you.
A surge of power flowed past him in the captain's direction at the instant Spock thrust the alien from his mind.
Spock straightened and at the same time, watched Jim slump. "Captain, we must get off this bridge."
"Yes, we must. I'm losing command."
Spock grasped his arm and pulled him toward the turbolift.
"I'm losing my ability to command." Jim's fear was almost tangible, and Spock moved faster, trying to get him out of the view of the crew. "I'm losing the Enterprise."
It had always been Jim's deepest fear, and Spock knew it was raw right now, so soon after the M-5 incident, the appellation Captain Dunsel still ringing in his ears. Today's events, the ship being taken from him department by department, would be ideal circumstances for awakening Jim's own personal beast.
Spock directed him firmly into the turbolift, but Jim hardly seemed to notice. He clutched Spock's arm, his knees sagging.
"I'm losing command. I'm losing the Enterprise. The ship is sailing on and on." He pushed Spock back and spun away from him. "I'm alone. Alone. Alone. I'm losing command."
Spock stared at him. Alone? He had always known that Jim feared losing the Enterprise, but this other fear, this twin beast…Jim was not alone, could never be alone, could never be abandoned, because Spock would never leave his side.
"Captain."
Captain, I have you. You are not alone.
"I've lost command. I've lost the Enterprise."
Spock reached for him and Jim lunged and wrapped his hands around Spock's throat. What fear had convinced Jim he needed to harm Spock—was the entity exacting revenge for Spock's defiance? It didn't hurt, not like it might have if the cold force of Jim's powerful will had been behind the gesture. But Spock had to swallow against the unexpected pain of seeing his captain so lost.
"Jim."
He didn't know what else to say to make Jim understand that he would not lose the Enterprise, and he was certainly not alone.
Jim stilled, his only movement the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The hands on Spock's throat did not move for a long moment. Jim's face was inches from his and he stood stiffly, willing his own strength into Jim's mind, using the connection that skin-to-skin touch created. Finally, the hazel eyes focused, and their wild look grew calmer.
The captain took a deep breath. "I've got command."
Spock waited. Jim loosened his hands from Spock's throat and let them slide down his shoulders.
"I've got command."
He was still breathing heavily, but his eyes were now sharp and aware. Spock watched as not only reason, but determination and rage returned to the glint in the captain's eyes and the set of his jaw.
"I've got command."
"Correct, Captain." Spock controlled a smile of relief. He should have known that no usurping alien would be able to stand against it Jim's iron will.
By the time the turbolift doors opened, Jim was himself again. He strode impatiently out the doors, his boots ringing confidently in the corridor.
Spock stepped out behind him. "Where to, Captain?" Whatever Jim's decision, Spock would, of course, follow.
"Auxiliary control, my Vulcan friend. This ship is off course."
