Two
"Good morning, Captain," Uhura flashed a surprised smile at him. "You're up early."
He grinned back, coming to a halt at her station. As they were docked at the Starbase, the Bridge was sparsely manned; apart from Uhura, there was only one officer present, monitoring the life support system.
"I woke up and couldn't sleep," Kirk explained amiably. "Thought maybe I'd come up and see how things were going up here."
"There's nothing to report," she said, shrugging mildly. "All systems are functioning normally. Oh, and Mr. Spock hasn't checked in yet today."
He glanced at her sharply, realizing she had caught him staring absently at the Science station. Her smile was so impeccably innocent, that he had to laugh. He had always found it extremely difficult to be the slightest bit annoyed with her.
"Uhura," he said, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with you?"
She blinked at him sweetly.
"Give me a pay raise?"
He laughed again, patting her back lightly.
"Get in line. Did either Spock or Scotty leave their requisition forms?"
"Either, Captain?" she asked in mock surprise and handed him two padds swiftly. "Mr. Spock left a note that it would be logical for you to check them at your convenience but preferably before the briefing."
"Oh, he did, did he?" Kirk grunted, taking the padds from her. "Anything else I can do to keep my Exec happy?"
Uhura smiled with masterful artlessness.
"I really couldn't say, sir."
He looked into her laughing eyes in exasperation, but he really couldn't bring himself to do anything about her. He'd tell off anyone else, but Uhura was simply beyond his reach. Even Spock couldn't do anything about her teasing, having resigned to endure it stoically. Well, Kirk thought philosophically, at least she didn't sing songs about him in the Rec Room.
He satisfied himself with saying as strictly as he could make it, "You, Lieutenant, are an unbearable tease. And before you say 'thank you, sir,' that was not a compliment."
"Of course not, Captain." She made a calculated pause and added after him, "Thank you, sir."
Kirk groaned, without looking back, and stepped down to sit in his chair. He looked over Scotty's request first. The list was extensive, but mostly it was what Kirk had expected. For some time now, they had been running not quite on a wing and a prayer yet, but uncomfortably close to that point. He knew Scotty would wish to replace a lot of worn out components as well as to refill his stock of spare parts stretching the leeway that the special circumstances granted him to the limit.
Kirk did frown though, coming across 'Deflector array power cells.' No numbers next to the specified item meant that Scotty wished to replace the whole set. That wasn't a bad idea per se, but it was an expensive one. Kirk remembered the strain of their last mission, the rescue operation in an asteroid belt. They must have damaged the deflector more than he had realized.
He called up Spock's list and scanned it quickly. Spock was fairly moderate in his requests, only including the damaged or destroyed equipment. However, at the bottom of the second page, Kirk stumbled over the line 'High-frequency multitronic subprocessor.' That piece of technology was also one of Doctor Daystrom's basic design, reworked and adapted by a team of computer specialists, which incidentally happened to include Spock.
It wasn't bad memories or doubt, though, that gave Kirk a halt. If Spock said it was safe, then it was safe, there could be no two minds about it. And from what his First Officer managed to explain, once installed, the subprocessor would increase the speed of processing of the scientific data up to five times, possibly more. The benefits for a ship of exploration, such as the Enterprise, were immeasurable. That wasn't in dispute, but the price for this particular piece of equipment was.
Kirk frowned. He wasn't supposed to pay for it, of course, but in Starfleet, every ship had a budget. It was large for a Constitution-class, considering the number and the nature of missions each one of those undertook yearly. There was significant room for emergency situations and extra repairs a ship might require. If the budget was overspent, it didn't mean of course that the ship wouldn't receive the necessary treatment. It would, but the captain would be required to present a report explaining the circumstances. A special commission would be formed to investigate if the commanding officer could have avoided additional expenses, or if the unforeseen damage was caused due to his or her negligence.
The first year of Kirk's command of the Enterprise resulted in a twelve percent over-expenditure. The second—in twenty. Kirk was beginning to feel real sick of explaining himself to special commissions. He was, of course, vindicated every time, but that didn't make the experience any more pleasant. He didn't like the talk about special treatment very much either. However, since the captain couldn't be asked to make command decisions based on financial considerations, it ultimately fell onto the executive officer's shoulders to keep the expenses in line.
Spock was doing a superb job maneuvering between their objective needs and available resources. Unfortunately, even Vulcan meticulousness couldn't compete with the toll their missions were taking on them. There was always a fine limit to what he could squeeze out in every case. But he tried his best, always, and Kirk was surprised to see him put an item on his list which, despite its obvious advantages, could only be considered a luxury.
Perhaps he didn't have the time to examine Scotty's list?
Kirk scanned the Engineer's request again and raised his eyebrows. Sure enough, there was Spock's signature, right below Scotty's. He had seen this request and approved it. Strange. It seemed that the power cells for the deflector and the new subprocessor would exclude each other, and Kirk knew that Spock didn't like to put him in a position where he would have to choose either between two major components or between his Chief Engineer and Chief Science Officer.
Spock found such competition illogical, because, while the Enterprise was a ship of exploration, it wouldn't go very far without a smoothly run Engineering Section. Besides, Spock could not tolerate the idea that he might so much as appear to abuse his position as First Officer to benefit his own department.
That only left one explanation, and Kirk smiled, shaking his head. Spock clearly believed that they could afford both those items at this time, but he was leaving it to the Captain to discover how he managed that. It wasn't the first time, either, and Kirk got ready to dig into the puzzle his devious First had left for him.
He was, in fact, so engrossed in solving the administrative riddle that he had completely lost track of time. When he heard the turbolift doors open, he turned towards them automatically, expecting to see Spock who usually came to pick him up for the briefing. But it wasn't Spock, it was Scotty, and he looked puzzled and slightly annoyed.
"Captain," the Engineer said in a perplexed tone, having spared a glance at the Science station. "Have ye seen Mr. Spock this morning?"
Kirk felt his eyebrows crease in surprise.
"No," he replied slowly. "I thought he was with you."
They both glanced at Uhura, and she stared back, bewildered.
"I thought he was in the Lab," she said.
Kirk peered at the chronometer.
"The briefing must have begun by now," he realized, with a jolt of surprise. "Sorry, Scotty. In fact, it should be nearly over."
"Aye," Scott nodded. "I thought maybe there was some kind of hold up."
"Uhura, page Mr. Spock please," Kirk ordered quietly.
He had a bad feeling about it, and he wasn't very much surprised when she looked up from her console in complete puzzlement.
"Mr. Spock is not on board, Captain. He never returned to the ship."
"What?" Kirk rose to his feet, surprised. "That's impossible. He must be ill or something."
"He seemed fine enough last night," Scott noted helpfully. "When we were at the bar."
Both Kirk and Uhura stared at him incredulously. Stunned silence reigned.
"You and Spock went into a bar?" Kirk managed finally. Apart from the fact that it had to be one hell of an incentive to make Spock actually walk into one, a more unlikely pair of drinking companions was next to impossible to imagine.
The turbolift doors opened exactly in time for McCoy to hear his disbelieving exclamation.
"Scotty, did I hear him right?" the Doctor asked, coming closer. "What, in the name of all things holy, possessed you? Bringing Spock along is like having a bachelor party in a convent."
"Depends on what kind of convent, Doctor," Uhura told him seriously. "For instance, the esoteric cult on Risa has a wonderful tradition of—"
"This isn't happening," Kirk complained into space.
"It wasn't like that," Scott said indignantly at the same time.
McCoy's face suddenly brightened.
"No, wait, I get it. Are we having some kind of 'Tell a Bad Story about Spock' Day?"
"Bones..."
"I just heard a weird one from Chris, too. She heard somewhere on the station that he'd been arrested for murder." He eyed his audience gleefully, but when nobody laughed, he pouted. "What's wrong with you, people? I thought that was a good one."
"It would have been, and I'd have laughed, if Spock was sitting right here," Kirk said. "We can't seem to find him anywhere."
"Have you tried walking over to the library computer and knocking? I'm pretty sure the guy lives in there."
"Bones, would you please—"
"No, seriously, Jim. I once tried to get his attention while he was staring at an abandoned newt crest on Pollux Prime. He ignored me for like half an hour and then gave me a whole goddamned lecture on the subject of newt mating rituals, when all I wanted to know was the time!"
Uhura turned back to her station, smothering a case of giggles.
"Serves you right for not carrying a chronometer," Kirk said. "Now, Scotty, you were saying—"
"Captain," Uhura interrupted him. "Commander Britty is asking to speak to you. He says it's urgent."
"Put him through," Kirk nodded readily, turning to face the screen. "Warren. How may I help you?"
But the Starbase commander looked grim.
"Captain, I have some rather disturbing news," Britty said sternly. "The Legourian Ambassador was found dead in his quarters this morning."
"What?"
"You heard me, Jim. And that's not all. We have the culprit in custody. It's Mr. Spock."
No, Kirk thought frantically, even though he had somehow sensed what was coming before Britty had spoken the name. McCoy gasped softly behind him.
"That's impossible," Kirk said aloud.
"We have solid evidence, Captain," the Commander pursed his lips grimly. "I couldn't believe it myself, but I can't ignore the proof at hand."
"I demand to see it," Kirk snapped.
"I thought you would," Britty nodded readily. "Meet me in my office in an hour, see for yourself."
"I need to see Spock as well."
Britty narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Are you appointing yourself as his counsel?"
Kirk didn't hesitate one bit.
"Yes."
The Commander nodded.
"Very well then. You can see him after you see me. Britty out."
Kirk turned towards his officers slowly.
"Well, Scotty. I didn't think I'd ever want to hear that phrase spoken on my Bridge, but I believe it's time to tell bar stories."
Stunned like the rest of them, the Engineer nodded gravely.
"Aye."
It wasn't the first time Spock had found himself thinking that Starfleet judicial procedures were in certain ways redundant. The thought had occurred to him even prior to him taking the opposite side of the process on several notable occasions. And it was, in any case, the first time he was subjected to the full scale processing, because his staged court-martial on the Enterprise regarding his hijacking the ship hardly followed every letter of protocol. Back then, everyone was too stunned to care about legal scrupulousness. Besides, aboard the Enterprise, it was he who usually assumed the role of the legal counsel.
In a sense, he was grateful for his thorough legal background for it gave him the opportunity to observe the proceedings from a professional point of view. Otherwise, the only subject for his reflections would have been the absurd accusations, and that would hardly have been agreeable.
Were they absurd, though? Spock asked himself grimly. It was true that he possessed no memory of killing the Ambassador. Unfortunately, he possessed no memory of not doing it either. He was informed during the first round of questioning that the time of death was approximately oh-five hundred hours. Not only could Spock not prove that he wasn't in the Ambassador's quarters at the time, he couldn't even apprise them as to where he was, let alone produce an alibi. And while Vulcans were perhaps not the most likely suspects in a murder case, he himself had stated not so long ago during their voyage to Babel that, when necessary, Vulcans could commit homicide.
Logically and physically.
Spock suppressed a sigh and looked around the interrogation room again. It wasn't that he hoped to see some detail that had eluded his attention before, so much as it was his wish to escape, however nominally, the tediousness of yet another long wait. They were doing that a lot to him, and he wondered why. Not that he particularly enjoyed the experience of being questioned, but so far, only his interrogators were bringing him the information he so desperately craved.
At last, the door opened, and a woman walked in, carrying a small standard issue case. Spock stood up automatically, but she hardly seemed to notice, proceeding to settle at the desk. At her cool nod, he resumed his seat.
"Commander Spock, I'm Lieutenant Lindsey Barns, Commander Britty's aide. I'm also his official JAG advisor. I am here to record your testimony regarding the evidence which incriminates you."
"I am as of yet unfamiliar with any such evidence," Spock said coolly.
For some reason, the news that she was the Commander's new aide made him uncomfortable. He enjoyed working with Lieutenant Ito, who had occupied the position previously, and of whom he could say nothing but that she was a consummate professional.
"So you claimed," she said in response to his previous statement. "Do you still insist you will not provide us with the information regarding your whereabouts at the time of murder?"
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"My will has nothing to do with it, Lieutenant."
"Oh, yes, I forgot. You have conveniently suffered amnesia for several hours."
"I find nothing convenient about a memory loss," Spock said calmly. "If the results of my medical examination did not reveal—"
She tilted her head in a combination of curiosity and disdain.
"The examination, Commander, showed you're perfectly healthy but for some bumps and bruises. And I am, of course, no expert on Vulcan physiology, but it was my understanding that your people didn't suffer from memory losses."
"Generally, we do not."
"Then, logically, Mr. Spock, I would have to conclude that it is your will rather than physical disability that prevents you from giving an account of your whereabouts and activities. Your earlier objection is therefore invalid."
Spock fought the impulse to close his eyes in exasperation. This would never have happened on Vulcan. A single mind-meld would have determined if he was telling the truth. But mind-melds were not considered legal proof within the Starfleet judicial system. Even if there had been another Vulcan on the station, this would have been of no use.
"I withdraw my earlier objection," he said evenly. "However, I maintain that it is my right to familiarize myself with the evidence against me. Please proceed with the presentation."
By saying that, he had effectively taken control of the conversation, and, judging by the Lieutenant's expression, she hadn't missed it and didn't like it one bit. Unfortunately, she couldn't do anything to deny his request. Schooling her expression to neutrally cold, she opened her case and pulled out an evidence bag, which contained a piece of blue cloth, ripped and stained in purple.
"Do you recognize this?"
Spock took the bag from her and lifted it to his eyes, examining it closely.
"It appears to be a fragment of Starfleet uniform," he observed, studying it.
"Would you not care to be more specific?" she asked, almost lightly. "It's a piece of your uniform, Commander. We found it clutched in the Ambassador's hand. The DNA analysis of the residual skin tissue proves it belongs to you."
"Indeed?" Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Most peculiar."
"I'd say," Barns pursed her lips, taking the bag back from him. "Can you explain how a part of your uniform happened to be stuck in a dead man's grip?"
"No," Spock shook his head. "I am certain I cannot."
"Well then, perhaps you can explain why your tricorder was interlinked with the Ambassador's computer?" The Lieutenant took the said device out of her case and showed it to Spock. "Do you deny that this is yours?"
Spock took the tricorder she handed him and examined it. While tricorders were a universal piece of equipment, he preferred to keep his own stock, which he modified to suit his specific requirements. Each one of his had enlarged memory storage capacity as well as an additional microprocessor of his own design, which increased the speed of data processing. And while several memory chips were missing from this specific machine, the microprocessor was in place, giving away the identity of the tricorder's owner far more effectively than the standard designation sign on the bottom.
"This is one of mine," Spock confirmed, giving the tricorder back to the Lieutenant.
She nodded, not having expected another answer.
"What was it doing in the Ambassador's quarters, Mr. Spock?"
"I cannot say."
"Well then," she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. "If you insist on being willfully uncooperative, there isn't much left for us to discuss."
Spock didn't agree with her assessment, but he sensed a fine logical trap in the possible argument and decided to refrain from it. He inclined his head softly.
"It does appear that this conversation has exhausted its usefulness."
"Don't be so sure," Barns said, rising up to her feet smoothly. "I want to be certain you understand the consequences of your stubbornness. While it may seem strange that any consideration is to be shown to a murderer, the fact is that while you still wear the uniform... Figuratively speaking, of course," she added with a dry smile, glancing briefly at his grey coveralls, "you are my charge and I must ensure that your interests are met. So let me make one thing perfectly clear. You're not facing a bad conduct discharge here. Not even several years in a Federation penal colony. The Legourians are way beyond angry with you. Apparently, Ambassador Ktlk'ak was some kind of renowned dignitary or a wise elder. You're facing extradition. And I believe you are familiar with the Legourian imprisonment policy."
"I have a vague notion."
She fixed him with a stern gaze, clearly considering his tone unacceptable.
"If you don't want to gain first hand experience with it, I suggest you change your attitude. And accepting one of our designated court officers as your counsel might be a good start."
"I do not require the services of a counsel," Spock stated evenly. "But I would appreciate a chance to speak to my captain."
She pursed her lips and tilted her head disapprovingly.
"You're not in a position to choose your dates, Mr. Spock. And let me tell you something else. I will use every bit of my personal influence on Captain Kirk to make him stay away from you. You might not care about anyone else, but right now, you're radioactive. Being close to you means being contaminated with sympathy towards a cold-blooded murderer. The sooner Jim will disassociate himself from you, the better for him and his career. If you have any decency left in you, you wouldn't want to take him down with you."
Spock stared at her. The cruel logic of her words registered vaguely in his mind, preoccupied with the words 'personal influence' and the fact that she had called the Captain 'Jim.' He looked at the woman again, trying to see her the way humans would, without pausing to ask himself why he was doing it.
She was of average height, closer to petite rather than tall, and had classically feminine features. Her face was aesthetically agreeable. Her hair was platinum gold, arranged in a somewhat complex style. Her dark grey eyes were big and expressive. In fact, the only fault he could find in her appearance was that the color of her lipstick was perhaps slightly brighter than the regulations allowed, but those were the kinds of regulations rarely observed. Spock had never known Captain Kirk to reprimand any female crewmember for excessive use of make-up, and Spock doubted that he would have found anything wrong with the way the Lieutenant looked.
Why was that thought disturbing him? And why was he thinking about anything so irrelevant at all?
"You are correct," he spoke at last, as she arched her eyebrows at his scrutiny. "I would not want his career to be threatened by this incident. But Captain Kirk is a man of strong opinions. Convincing him might not be an easy task."
Barns smiled at him leniently.
"Oh, don't worry, Commander. One night of fun might not give me the weight I need with him, but whatever I have, I'll use. I'm glad we're in agreement."
Spock inclined his head silently. She closed her case and picked it up, ready to go.
"If you change your mind regarding the defense counsel, let me know."
"I will," he said. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
She threw a look at him, telling him in no uncertain terms exactly how she felt receiving his gratitude, and left. Spock stood up, as a guard walked in to take him back to his cell.
The conversation had clarified the reasons for his arrest, but it didn't explain how those reasons came to be. He had hoped that the memories would start to return, just as his body functions were getting back to normal, but that didn't happen. He still couldn't remember a single minute out of the four missing hours, and the presented evidence raised a most unpleasant prospect.
What if he did kill the Legourian?
The evidence was hard to ignore. Hard as he tried to construct any possible explanation for his belongings to be in the Ambassador's quarters, he couldn't come up with any remotely plausible theory. He must have gone there. But what for? What was he trying to find in the Ambassador's computer? He had a strong suspicion that the missing memory chips could have answered a lot of these questions. But being stuck here, he didn't have the slightest chance to find them.
There was another consideration that troubled him. Throughout all the proceedings, he wasn't once asked about Luca. Nor did anyone mention him, and Spock didn't ask, not wanting to entangle the human in such undignified business on the verge of him taking command of his ship. But whether Spock killed the Ambassador or not, it was still strange that Luca wasn't in his quarters when Spock had woken up. He was beginning to feel deeply concerned for Luca's fate. If he didn't remember one crime, was it possible he didn't remember another? Was Luca all right?
Spock sat on his bunk, staring into space. He might have appeared dispassionate to the world, but anyone who knew him well enough would have seen that his gaze was full of misery. If not knowing was an irritant for humans, for Vulcans it appeared to be a form of torture. For a desperate moment, it occurred to him that he might have preferred knowing he had killed the Ambassador to this ultimate uncertainty. Because if he did, he must have had his reasons.
And what of Jim, he mused gloomily. What of the Captain? What of his shipmates? Him being accused even, let alone convicted, threw a shadow over each and every one of them. How many suspicious glances would they catch because of him? The Enterprise had a reputation of a paragon ship. That, too, was in jeopardy now. What had he possibly been thinking when he asked to see the Captain? Hadn't he caused enough damage already?
Spock shook his head at himself mentally. He had spoken without thinking, out of the instinctive belief that whatever happened to either of them, together they could always get it right. Up to this moment, Spock never realized how deep an impact the Captain's presence usually had on him. When Kirk was around, it was as if Spock's thoughts were clearer and his logic sharper, despite occasional and rather blatant lapses in it, which happened in and mostly due to the Captain's presence. It should have been a contradiction, but it wasn't. Somehow it never was.
Jim was his strength, Spock thought regrettably, but it seemed that he was also becoming Spock's ultimate weakness.
Stifling a groan, Spock slid down to the floor, assuming his customary meditation position. His body still didn't feel right, but the medics assured him he was healthy, and Spock had no reasons to mistrust them. He would have to ignore his physical discomfort for the time being. If only he could do the same with his hindered memory...
He closed his eyes and began the first sequence of concentration.
"Now, let me get this straight," Kirk said, rubbing his forehead. "Spock knew Captain Radek before you did?"
"Aye, Captain," Scott nodded, watching him as if he was particularly dim. "I met Luca... I mean, Captain Radek during the second Klingon war. He was in charge of the planetary evacuation in the same quadrant the Enterprise was assigned to. We had a few run-ins. Of course, he wasn't captain then."
"Wasn't that about the same time you were demoted?" Kirk asked, frowning in concentration.
The Engineer stood a little straighter, his shoulders tensing slightly.
"Aye, about that time, sir."
Kirk patted his arm absently.
"I'm just trying to connect the dots, Scotty. And what about Spock?"
"Mr. Spock knows him from the Academy. I think they were in the same class."
"And you're all friends?"
Scott cringed slightly.
"I can't say he's a close friend of mine, Captain, but he's a good lad. He is a good friend of Mr. Spock, though, or so I believe."
Kirk stifled an irritated grunt. His wife, his parents, and now his 'good friend'—Spock definitely wasn't getting in the habit of volunteering personal information. Not that it was something particularly new, but every time Kirk believed for some reason—and a stupid one at that, as he realized now—that it was going to be the last hidden bombshell. Was he being naïve where Spock was concerned? It seemed like on some level Spock would never trust him.
Banishing irrelevant thoughts, he asked, "And he was the last one to see Spock last night?"
"The two of them stayed at the bar after we left," Scott nodded. "Luca had a wee drop too much, if ye know what I mean. I would imagine it took some time to convince him to leave."
Kirk's eyes narrowed perilously.
"And you left Spock with him like that?"
The Scotsman's eyes glinted with amusement.
"Captain, I assure ye, if Mr. Spock was in any danger, it wasn't the kind he'd like me to protect him from."
McCoy scoffed and shook his head.
"Your virtuous First Officer seems to be full of surprises, Jim," he said lamely. "And I'll bet they aren't over yet."
Kirk turned to Uhura, forcing himself to ignore the news and the comment. They were treating the whole situation a little bit too lightly, but he couldn't in all honesty hold it against them. The very notion that Spock might have killed someone, anyone, let alone an Ambassador of a potential ally, was so farfetched that it was difficult to consider it seriously.
"Lieutenant, try to locate Captain Radek for me."
"Yes, sir."
"Oh damn," Kirk sighed, massaging his suddenly very stiff neck. "And here we were, making an R&R stop. Scotty, McCoy and I are going to the station. You're in charge here. I think it would be a good idea if you manage to recall our people back on board, but without much fuss. There's something very weird going on here. I don't want anyone else getting into trouble."
"Understood, Captain."
"Anything, Lieutenant?"
Uhura shook her head.
"Captain Radek is not in his quarters and he's not answering his personal line."
"Keep trying," Kirk said. "Let me know the moment you find him. Let's go, Bones."
"I'll need to grab my medikit, Jim," McCoy said. "I want to check Spock out for myself."
"Fine, meet me at the airlock in five minutes. Scotty, if anything else comes up, call me immediately."
"Aye, Captain. Good luck."
"Thanks," Kirk grunted. "Let's hope we won't need it."