Author's Note: This story is NOT CANON. Please read author's profile before proceeding, lest you be very annoyed with this AU. Also, this is the second story in a series, and I have assumed knowledge of the first story without having to summarize here.

Chapter 1

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beamed over to Starbase 7, and were met by an armed escort - six burly security officers. Spock raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Kirk and McCoy exchanged a grim look, both thinking that something must be very wrong at this starbase. First the cryptic summons, which said only that the matter was too sensitive to entrust to subspace communication. Now this. And the completely deserted corridors only served to add to their alarm. Upon their arrival at the base commander's office, Spock and McCoy were held in the outer office with the six guards, while Kirk went in to speak with the commander.

As the door closed behind him, Kirk became aware that the wall was lined with more security guards. His internal alarm system at full red alert, he took the offered seat and waited for an explanation. Without a word, Commander Graber handed him an official-looking document. His own name leaped off the page, after the word 'defendant.' It was a summons to a court-martial hearing. The charges were stated in obscure language, but a few phrases made it through the fog of Kirk's shocked brain: 'religious intolerance,' 'persecution,' 'bigoted oppression.' As Kirk processed the words on the page, realization dawned that the security guards were intended to contain him. He looked up at Graber.

"The security guards are unnecessary, sir."

Graber glared at him. "Your reputation for jailbreaks is well-known, Kirk. Not to mention disregarding orders that don't suit you. I've been given the responsibility, and I intend to see that you do stand trial. Furthermore, your officers will be in no position to effect a rescue." He sat back in his chair with a look of satisfied contempt.

Kirk refused to respond to the emotional overtones. "Are they being court-martialed, too?"

"Not at this time, so far as I know. However, I've been given authority to detain them as a precautionary measure. So if you will call your ship and instruct the other four officers to beam over, we can avoid an unpleasant scene in front of your crew."

"Which four officers are you referring to?" Kirk was pretty sure he knew, but wanted to force Graber to be specific.

"Commanders Scott, Sulu, and Uhura, and Lieutenant Commander Chekov."

This whole situation felt like a personal attack, and Kirk wasn't happy to have it include his people too. "That would leave my ship without any of its senior officers. It is against Starfleet policy to leave a ship so undermanned." He took a deep breath to control his fight instinct.

"Since when did you become a stickler for the rules?" Graber taunted.

They squared off against each other in a long moment of silence, neither willing to back down. But Graber wasn't the enemy, Kirk told himself. He needed to back off from this confrontation.

He relaxed his posture and moderated his voice. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to insist on proof of your authority in this matter. This document appears to be legitimate, but the way you are handling this situation is highly irregular."

Graber relaxed too. "Very well, Captain." He handed Kirk three data tapes. "This is a copy of my orders. The other two are personal messages for you that I have been asked to deliver." He turned his reader so that Kirk could use it.

The orders confirmed that Graber did indeed have the authority he claimed.

The first message was from Admiral Perón. "I'm sorry, Jim. I've been fighting this for weeks, but they've got me backed into a corner. All I can do is send you the best counsel in the Federation. But it's going to take more than a persuasive tongue to get you out of this one. Vaya con Dios. Perón out."

The second message was from Sam Cogley. He was an attorney that had successfully defended Kirk once before. "I just heard about this, Jim. I'm on my way. Don't make any kind of a statement until I get there. Sam out."

Kirk looked up at Graber. "Thank you, sir. I accept your authority in this situation. However, I must tell you again: the security guards are unnecessary, as is detaining my officers. I have no intention of running away from this hearing."

"Sorry, Captain. I am taking all precautions. Mind you, I'm not doubting your word; I'm simply not relying on it. So, are you going to call your officers?" The smug tone of victory had again crept into Graber's voice.

With effort, Kirk refused to react. Sighing, he flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Scott here, Captain. Knight to queen's pawn, level one."

"Bishop to king's pawn, level three. Cancel red alert. The situation is not dangerous; I repeat, not dangerous."

"Aye, sir. Red alert canceled."

"However, the news is not good. I'm being held for court-martial. The charges are verbose, but it's essentially religious intolerance."

"What?! Are ye jokin'?"

"No, Scotty, it's not a joke. Furthermore, the six of you are being detained as well. No charges, just a precautionary measure to ensure my cooperation. And Mr. Scott, you will cooperate. That's an order. There is nothing to be gained by trying to avoid this. Also, since it appears we're going to be here awhile, go ahead and authorize shore leave for the crew. Then leave Lieutenant Tanis in charge and come on over and join the party - that's Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and yourself."

"Aye, Cap'n. Can ye give us fifteen minutes, sir?"

"Certainly. Kirk out." Without a pause, he flipped to another channel. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here, Captain."

"Code green. I'm being court-martialed for religious intolerance. The six of you are being detained to prevent any rescue attempt. See you at the hearing."

"Understood. Spock out."

Graber was furious. "I did not give you permission to contact Mr. Spock! Hand over that communicator."

Kirk shrugged nonchalantly, trying to defuse the explosive atmosphere. "I understood you wanted their cooperation."

"I do. Just remember, I'm in charge here. And what does 'code green' mean?"

"The color codes and chess moves are a system we devised a long time ago, for use in potentially hostile situations. The chess moves were verifying my identity. 'Code green' means 'take no action to interfere.'"

xxxx

Spock and the others were detained in the brig, each in a separate cell. Kirk, however, was taken to the opposite end of the base, where a cargo storage room had been prepared for him. He was escorted there, handcuffed between two of the security guards. Upon arrival, he discovered the room contained three cots, not just one. As the door closed and locked behind them, Kirk realized he was going to spend the next indefinite period of time chained between two guards. He was tempted to protest the barbaric treatment of the paranoid base commander. Instead, he decided to use the opportunity to share the Lord with these men.

"Well, gentlemen, it seems we must spend the rest of your duty shift in close quarters. Perhaps, we can get better acquainted. My name's Jim."

"Shut up! Prisoner's not allowed to talk." One of the guards was clearly angry at being stuck with this duty. He pulled roughly on the handcuff, and Kirk fell to his knees.

"Aw, Randy, quit being so surly. I have to put up with this too, you know."

"You shut up, too, Bob. How am I going to survive six hours of this?!"

Kirk suggested, "You might start by getting comfortable."

Randy yelled, "I told you to shut up!" And he swept his arm in a big circle, dragging Kirk along the floor. Bob lost his balance, and fell on top of Kirk.

"Randy! Cut it out! You start a fight in here, and we're going to be in trouble. You want that? Isn't that what got you this duty in the first place? Do you want to do it again tomorrow?"

"No! I don't." Randy just glared at Bob.

Kirk said quietly, "If we all move slowly and carefully, we can probably manage to lie down on these cots."

Randy tensed, but Bob stared him down, and Randy didn't explode again.

Bob said, "You got any better ideas?"

Randy admitted, "No. So go ahead, if you can figure out how."

Neither Bob nor Randy seemed to grasp the simple mechanics of the situation, so Kirk gave quiet instructions, step by step, and they finally succeeded in landing on their backs on the cots. There was silence for about half an hour, during which Kirk prayed fervently for Bob and Randy. Randy's need was obvious, but Bob's need was no less real. Kirk prayed for wisdom and discernment, and for the peace of the Lord to be manifest.

"Randy, what can I do to earn the privilege of talking with you?"

"What?!" Randy sat up and again jerked on the handcuff.

"I wish to earn the privilege of talking with you."

"Why?"

"I want to ask you a question and get an honest answer, instead of a violent reaction."

Randy looked puzzled. "What's the question?"

"What is it about this situation that you find most intolerable?"

"That's obvious. Besides, why do you care?"

"Your anger is obvious. The reason behind it isn't." Kirk kept his tone mild, hoping to avoid setting off the volcano.

"I can't stand being chained like an animal. It's barbaric!"

"Yes, it is. But being treated like an animal doesn't make me any less human. And you still haven't told me why you can't stand it."

Randy jerked the handcuff several times for emphasis. "I can't move, that's why!"

"But you can. We walked all the way across the base chained together. The problem is that we have to move in cooperation, not fighting each other. But we can eat, sleep, play cards, even do calisthenics."

"No way! Calisthenics? Not a chance!"

"Yes, we could. I'll show you, if you're willing." Kirk sat up; so did Bob. They both looked at Randy.

"I don't know. Why should I?" The volcano was subsiding to sullen annoyance.

"Aw, come on, Randy. We haven't got anything better to do, and this might be entertaining."

Kirk said nothing. Finally, Randy agreed.

"All right, but I decide when to quit, if it's not working."

"Fair enough." Kirk got them off the cots, and the cots stacked up against the wall. He began with running in place, which they did in unison. For jumping-jacks and sit-ups, they took turns. Push-ups they managed in unison. Then Kirk tried a combination maneuver that required precise timing if they were to avoid smashed noses. Somewhat to his surprise, it worked. He turned to Randy.

"You could have sabotaged that. Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I just didn't want you to think I couldn't do it."

"Okay. Shall we do it again, just to prove we can?"

"Sure." And they did it again with perfect timing.

Kirk said, "There's something else I'd like to try, just to see if we could. It's not really calisthenics. It's called the mirror game. We stand facing each other. Now, pretend there's a sheet of glass between us. Put your hand on the glass. No, the other hand." Kirk raised his own hand at the same time. "My goal is to keep the chain slack on the cuffs. Your goal is to thwart my goal. You get a point every time the chain goes taut. After five minutes, we switch roles and play the opposite goal. There are several rules. If you break any one of them, your time is up right then. First rule is you have to keep your hand on the glass. Second rule is you can't move your feet. Third rule is you must keep eye contact with me. Lastly, you can't actually touch my hand. So, do you want to play?" Kirk smiled, and in his eyes, there was just a little bit of a challenge. Randy took the bait, his competitive nature rising to the fore.

"Yeah, I'll play."

"Bob, will you be time keeper, and arbitrate any score disputes?"

"I'd be glad to, as long as I get a chance to play too."

This game kept them occupied for almost an hour, at the end of which Randy and Bob were getting fairly good at it. Then Randy proposed a new twist to the game.

"Jim, you're obviously a master at this. Could you do it with both hands at once?"

"I have no idea, but we could easily find out."

They discovered it worked better if Kirk watched Randy, rather than Bob, but to their surprise, it worked best if he looked at neither of them, but at a point in between them. Then Randy wanted him to try it with his eyes closed.

"I'll do it on one condition: That you play it as if you want me to succeed, not fail."

They agreed, and what followed had almost a dance-like quality. A night and day difference from what they had been doing. When Kirk opened his eyes after five minutes, Randy's face held a look of surprise.

"That's what you meant by moving in cooperation! But how can you do it blind?"

"As long as it's slow enough. I can feel it through the cuffs. Want to try it?"

At this moment, they were interrupted by the arrival of a meal. Randy immediately reverted to his earlier behavior, jerking Kirk to his knees, and the sense of camaraderie vanished. The orderly placed the food trays on the floor and departed. Bob looked at Randy in disgust.

"What did you have to do that for?"

Kirk assumed it was because he was embarrassed to have been caught being civil, but he said nothing.

Randy stared at Bob for a moment, then muttered, "I don't know," and pulled Kirk to his feet. "How do you propose we manage to eat?"

"Let's unstack one of the cots, put two of the trays on it, and you and Bob can straddle the cot and eat quite comfortably."

Bob asked, "What about you?"

"I'll eat when you're done."

They ate in silence. Bob was mad at Randy; Randy was still angry and jerking the handcuff; Kirk prayed for them both and tried to anticipate Randy's temper. When it was Kirk's turn to eat, he used mostly his left hand in an attempt to avoid setting off the volcano again.

Randy noticed it. "Why aren't you eating with your right hand?"

"I expect that given your present mood, more of the food would reach my mouth using my left hand, awkward as that is."

"I want you to use your right hand."

Kirk shrugged. "If you insist."

Most of the rest of his meal was spilled, because Randy seemed to delight in jerking his hand just before the food reached his mouth. He refused to get angry. Partway through this particular torture, Kirk noticed that Bob was no longer staring at Randy, but at him. When the food was all spilled, Kirk asked Randy for permission to clean up the mess with his left hand. Randy gave it.

When the orderly had removed the trays, they again lay down on the cots in silence. But Bob couldn't stand it anymore.

"Why didn't you get angry? If anybody'd done that to me, I'd have been furious!"

"Actually, I thought it was rather funny."

"What!?" Randy sat up, jerking the handcuff again. "You thought it was funny?!"

"What was funny about it?" Bob asked. "Randy was purposely torturing you. If he'd done that to an animal, it would have given up. You didn't do that either. Why not?"

"I'm not an animal. It was Randy's game, and I had agreed to play. I'm not known for quitting. As for why it was funny, you were both staring at me, waiting for a reaction that never materialized. Besides, it was a glorious mess! When I was a kid, I would have been in big trouble for making that much mess, no matter whose fault it was." Kirk chuckled. "Now that meal time is over, would you like to learn how to play the mirror game blind?"

Randy just stared at him.

Bob said, "I don't understand you."

"I'll answer any question you have, after we finish the mirror game."

Randy finally agreed. "Okay. You played my game; I'll play yours."

They spent about a half-hour working at it, but were not able to return to the flow of the previous session. As they returned to the cots, Randy withdrew into himself, but Bob was full of questions. They talked for three hours, and Kirk led Bob to the Lord. Then they played the mirror game for ten minutes, rejoicing in the flow between them. Finally, they prayed together for Randy, who had fallen asleep. Kirk was giving Bob some advice for his new walk with the Lord, when the door opened bringing two new guards. It was time for shift change.