Arena

by whatshouldntbe

During the last six months of her first year into her captaincy, Jim Kirk is forced to revisit her dark past when a rumor surfaces around the ship concerning the suspected whereabouts of Governor Kodos. -third sequel-

3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

So that thing about her not falling asleep? Total lie. She actually does find sleep. She didn't mean to fall asleep, mind you. It just happens, as it usually does, when she is under a lot of stress and anxiety. So it's only a slight surprise when she wakes up lying facedown on top of Bones's desk. She sits up with a sniff and stretches all the kinks out of her body with a groan.

Bones takes that moment to exit his bathroom as a cloud of steam billows behind him. He's dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. "Mornin'," he greets as he uses another towel to dry his hair.

Jim just hums as she eyes him. "Bones—are you trying to seduce me, because it's working."

"No, I'm not," Bones replies simply. "I'm actually upset with you—but then again I really shouldn't be surprised. You went and stuck your nose in the whole Kodos mess didn't you? I saw what you were doin' on my PADD."

Jim flushes and straightens as she crosses her arms defensively. "I was just looking. That doesn't mean anything."

"It does when it's you," he retorts and tosses his wet towel at her.

Jim snatches it out of the air before it reaches her face with a frown. "So you just let me sleep on your desk? My neck is killing me now."

"Sure did. I hope you learnt somethin'."

"Yeah. Don't sleep on your desk."

Bones doesn't acknowledge her reply. Instead he plucks free some casual clothes and tosses them on the bed as he says, "You should head back to yours and get ready for the day. It's almost eleven, you know. We can meet each other in the Mess for breakfast."

"Not interested. I'm not hungry."

"You still need to eat," Bones insists as he throws her a look over his wet shoulder.

"Yeah, got it, Doctor McCoy. But I can't eat when my stomach's upset so bare with me," Jim says as she stands. "Besides, I need to pack anyway."

"You're staying on the grounds?"

Jim nods as she exits out of all the applications on Bones's PADD and clears the browser history just in case her CMO gets a little more curious about her activities.

"Guess this means I have to pack too," Bones grumbles.

"Why? Just because I am?"

"I will if you are. Besides, I wouldn't mind getting off this ship and getting some dirt under my toes."

Jim snorts and looks at him fondly when he can't see. "I guess I'll meet you down there," she says as she makes her way for his door.

"You just make sure you cover yourself in lotion before you go anywhere," Bones nags after her.

"Yeah, yeah," Jim mutters as the door swishes shut behind her.

She treks all the way down to her quarters and goes straight to her bathroom to hop in the sonic shower. When she gets out she rubs herself down with suntan lotion, then gets dressed in pair of navy blue overall shorts with a short white t-shirt that stops two inches above her navel, and puts her hair in a low, side ponytail, fishtailing the end. For precaution's sake, she straps a holster around her waist with her phaser, tricorder and communicator. She packs her hot pink duffel bag and leaves everything else. With bare feet, she makes her way to the Transporter Room and beams down to the surface of New Vulcan.

It's particularly hot and Jim is silently glad over her clothing choice.

As she treks over to the camps, she notices that parallel to the Vulcan camp, there is another camp that is smaller than its predecessor and Jim guesses this must be the human camp. When she makes it there, the quartermaster, who greets her warmly and shows her the blueprints of the camp on her PADD, meets her with a full report. There is a medical tent on the west and east flank of the camp for precautions sake, and the food tent is in the heart of the camp for easy access by all. By the end of it all, the quartermaster points Jim to her tent, which is near the far back of the camp, and with a thanks, Jim also asks her to inform her CMO about her whereabouts if he comes asking.

Jim's marquee is only half the size of Sarek's and Spock's. Not that she's complaining or anything. But there is a lot left to be desired. All she has is a queen-sized floor bed that already takes up what little space she has, and a small coffee table with stools and a work desk that is opposite to her bed on the other end of the tent. But again, it wasn't a big deal since she most likely wouldn't be spending much of anytime in here anyway. She tosses her duffel bag onto her bed as her communicator chirps in her back pocket.

"McCoy to Kirk."

Jim flips it open and says, "Kirk here. Go ahead."

"Change of plans. I've got some sort of situation that I need to sort out at one of the med tents. We'll have to meet up later tonight."

"That's fine. Just go do what I hired you to do," Jim replies with a little smile.

"Funny. McCoy out."

Jim snorts and snaps her communicator shut as she rubs it thoughtfully against her chin. With a sigh, she exits her tent and heads for Spock's. When she makes it to the Vulcan camp, she ignores all the curious and disapproving stares with little apprehension until she reaches Spock's tent. Thankfully, he is absent when she arrives, and she moves quickly to retrieve T'Khut's sketchbook and pockets the lotion. Without further delay, she leaves and goes in search for T'Khut's tent. Of course, by doing this, she has to ask around.

Yeah…that doesn't go well at all.

Some Vulcans just either glare coldly at her before moving on without the decency of a reply or stare at her wordlessly until she feels uncomfortable enough to bow out.

Jim is on the verge of giving up when a beautiful older woman, who doesn't look a day over fifty, approaches her. This woman is wearing dark purple robes with deep sleeves she hides her hands in, and she has eyes that are darker than unspoiled coffee. She is tall—taller than most of the Vulcan women Jim's seen by far, and even the men. Her grey hair is braided into two parts, and clipped off at the back where the rest of her hair falls into a long waterfall of curls that sway at her waist. She is a very stunning older woman.

"You are a singularly troublesome human," she comments as she looks down at Jim with apt disapproval. Her dark eyes are vaguely familiar. "Did your human mother teach you such appalling manners, or is your father to blame?"

Jim's jaw falls open and her body starts to quake with indignant anger.

"Calm yourself, girl—I meant nothing by it," she scoffs. "I wanted to demonstrate the way in which you were presenting yourself. My rudeness to you is equal to the same approach you displayed when tactlessly petitioning the location for the Lady T'Prisu's dwelling."

Jim closes her mouth and flushes in guilt.

"Judging by the color of your cheeks, I suspect that my explanation has pierced your thick skull," she quips tonelessly. "Now, if you have finished unsettling my people, I will answer your inquiry if you explain to me why you seek it."

"I—I have her granddaughter's notebook. I was only trying to return it," Jim responds and holds up the sketchbook for the intimidating Vulcan to see.

"I see," she murmurs. "Very well. It is fortunate for you that I was on my way to see the Lady T'Prisu on a certain manner. You may join me in my walk."

"Thank you," Jim says and follows the older woman. "My name is Jim, by the way."

"I know who you are, girl. As does the rest of the camp's inhabitants. Your golden hair and blue eyes is signifying enough," she brusquely retorts. "I am called Lady T'Pau."

"Lady T'Pau," Jim echoes as she puts T'Khut's sketchbook under her right arm. "I didn't realize I was being rude."

"This is obvious," Lady T'Pau says. "You are not of our world. You do not know of our customs. You are bound to fail in the aspects of social etiquette." She glances at Jim briefly. "It is unbecoming for a woman to petition her counterparts about another dwellings, being of no kin and no friend to them. If you had need of this information, you should have first greeted an individual politely, gave them your title, asked for theirs and inquired their health and the health of their clan. After which would be an appropriate time to request the whereabouts of the individual you seek."

"Oh," Jim says and flushes again as she thinks about the display she must have been putting on earlier. "I am extremely embarrassed for my behavior."

"Indeed," Lady T'Pau agrees, and it's hardly noticeable, but Jim can sense a bit of amusement in her voice. "I suspect you will not duplicate such a blunder. If you truly are ignorant to our ways, you may consult me beforehand. This way, you may avoid certain mistakes."

Jim blinks in surprise at the offer. "Wow. Thank you—you sure I wouldn't just be bothering you?"

Lady T'Pau stops before a tent and gazes at her coolly. "Vulcans are not familiar to this term 'bother'. There is no 'bother' in our vernacular," she corrects. "You are being exceptionally rude once more. I have extended an offer and you have yet to accept or decline."

"Sorry, sorry," Jim says hastily. "I accept. Of course I accept."

"Why are there no shoes on your feet?"

"I—forgot them."

"That is cause for concern. To forget such a simple thing," T'Pau murmurs unhappily. Raising the volume of her voice slightly, she adds, "You need not wonder why you were being given such speculative looks."

Jim flushes again and rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.

Lady T'Pau says nothing further and turns to enter the tent as Jim follows. She lifts her hand in a customary Vulcan greeting to a frail, dark-skinned older woman sitting on the floor beside a level table with a fruit basket and tea dishes.

T'Khut is pressed in close to her grandmother, her small hands are over her grandmother's wrinkled and shaking hands as she helps her grandmother drink the cup of tea.

Lady T'Prisu inclines her head weakly at Lady T'Pau before she eyes Jim curiously.

"James," Lady T'Pau says as she lowers her hand and looks at Jim sternly. "Greet your host, you uncouth child."

"Oh, sorry. Hello, Lady T'Prisu," Jim fumbles and does an awkward bow that makes T'Khut lips twitch as her dark eyes fill with laughter. "My name is Jim."

"I am aware of your identity, child," Lady T'Prisu remarks as her granddaughter helps her lower her cup to the table again. "My granddaughter consistently spoke high praises of you. In fact, had you arrived sooner, you would have bared witness to it."

"Grandmother," T'Khut hisses as her cheeks and the tips of her ears flush with a purple shade, deepening the color of her brown skin even further.

"Oh hush, girl," Lady T'Prisu gently chastises. "It is not my intention to cause you shame over your poetic waxing."

The flush on T'Khut's skin darkens.

Jim smiles softly.

"Come now, T'Pau. You and your young ward must join me," Lady T'Prisu suggests as she turns toward her table.

Lady T'Pau settles herself across from Lady T'Prisu as she makes a motion for Jim to sit in the empty space beside her.

Jim does and hands T'Khut her sketchbook with a friendly smile. "There are some really lovely drawings in there. I was really impressed," she remarks.

"Thank you," T'Khut murmurs as another flush creeps back onto her cheeks.

"James," Lady T'Pau reprimands. "You have not asked Lady T'Prisu if you may address her granddaughter so formally."

"Sorry," Jim says with a wince.

"It is quite alright. I will forgive you this mistake," Lady T'Prisu merely replies, and despite her vacant expression, there is definitely amusement in her dark eyes. "My, T'Pau. Such regard you seem to have for this girl already. I may almost claim that you have given life to this child yourself. You are always such a mother." She nods at her granddaughter and T'Khut stands on her knees as she carefully picks up the teakettle in the middle of the table. She pours a cup for Lady T'Pau first, then Jim.

"Do not jest me, Lady T'Prisu," Lady T'Pau coolly retorts as she lifts the porcelain cup, holding onto the handle with her right hand while her left hand rests on the bottom, fingers pressed together tightly and pointing outwards. "You mistake my interest in this girl for affection."

"Is it not?" Lady T'Prisu counters. "The rumor floating throughout the camp is that she is your espoused granddaughter."

Lady T'Pau tenses as Jim's eyes widen in surprise. "Vulcans do not gossip."

"Lie if you must, T'Pau, but you and I both know that nothing could be farther from the truth," Lady T'Prisu simply says. She looks at Jim. "And don't look so surprised. She is Sarek's mother, and Spock's grandmother. And by your connection to the little Lord, yours as well."

Jim is overtaken by an aggressive flush. "Does everyone know about us?"

"I would not go as far to say that everyone is aware, but more than likely those kin to T'Pau's house and acquaintances of her clan may have an inkling," Lady T'Prisu acknowledges. "T'Pau has given me the liberty of confirming the rumor in person, this is how I know."

"You are troublesome," Lady T'Pau remarks with a glare.

"And yet it is your choice to associate with me," Lady T'Prisu counters. "I have known you since you were in your mother's womb. You are fond of me."

Lady T'Pau does not deny it, but she does not confirm it either. Instead, she flicks her dark gaze over to Jim and says, "Do not be rude, James—though you seem to delight in it. Drink your tea."

Jim hesitates. "Um—I—no thanks. I don't want it."

"It is customary to drink the first cup given to you by your host," Lady T'Prisu clarifies lightly as Lady T'Pau looks at Jim strictly. "Drink what has been given to you and then you may deny my gratuity."

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but I—I really don't like tea," Jim explains vaguely.

"James," Lady T'Prisu says. "I must insist."

Jim purses her lips unhappily before she looks down at the mouth of her cup. Steam is rising from the depths of her tea, preluding to the fact that it is still hot, and Jim has to work hard to conceal her cringe. She reaches out with trembling hands and cups them around her mug. She swallows dryly as she lifts the cup with painstaking slowness as her hands shake all the more.

Lady T'Pau furrows her brow as she watches wordlessly before she lowers her own cup to the table and rests her left hand over the rim of Jim's cup to gently press it back down to the table. "Let the liability fall to me—she will share in my honor. I shall drink her cup so that it will not be wasted," she decides in a stoic tone.

"Very well. From your lips to my ears," Lady T'Prisu accepts with a curious gleam in her eyes. She flicks her gaze to Jim. "I do believe that T'Pau has just claimed you as hers. You are kin to her now. It is fitting to show gratitude in such situations."

Jim looks at Lady T'Pau in surprise but the elegant Vulcan is wordlessly finishing her cup of tea before she exchanges it for Jim's untouched tea. "I—thank you, Lady T'Pau," she says bewilderedly.

"Thanks are unnecessary," Lady T'Pau offhandedly replies as she continues to take graceful sips. "You will address me as T'Pau from this point forward."

Jim nods.

"Partake of Lady T'Prisu fruit. Unless you have an aversion to that as well," Lady T'Pau goes on to say as she lowers her half-full cup. "There have been talks. I have come to discuss the matter with you. The things I have heard are disconcerting."

"You refer to the gossip among the camps that there are those who have returned to the old ways," Lady T'Prisu surmises. "It is not uncommon for such talk or behavior in the wake of our ancestry planet's destruction."

"Indeed, but no less problematic. Logic will soon fail us if we return back to the old religions. Things are already unraveling—note the behavior of the young," Lady T'Pau says as she drinks Jim's untouched tea. As Jim finishes her banana, Lady T'Pau focuses her attention on T'Khut, who has been quietly sketching Jim from her side of the table. "The contusions you display are evidently not self-inflicted. I can only surmise that the cause is from petty quarreling."

T'Khut pauses in her drawing and does not lift her eyes from the medium-sized pad.

"You will answer her, T'Khut," Lady T'Prisu reprimands.

T'Khut straightens and she lifts her eyes to address Lady T'Pau. "Pardon me, Lady T'Pau. I—some of the other adolescents have been inconveniencing me," she admits.

"I see," Lady T'Pau merely says, but her lips tighten in disapproval. "There was a time when my own grandson experienced such unlettered behavior from those attempting to solicit an emotion from him, based on the imprudent preconceived notions they held about his paternity. Do not let it impede on your contentment. It will pass. I will have words with some of the elders."

"You have my gratitude, T'Pau," Lady T'Prisu says. "I have grown feeble in my old age, and I cannot move as freely as I once did in my youth. Your involvement is a comfort."

"Think nothing of it, Lady T'Prisu. I seek only to do what you would do in a similar situation if you were able," Lady T'Pau simply remarks. "Now, we have inconvenienced you enough. James and I will take our leave with a promise to return in the near future."

"Then I shall stave off death a little while longer in anticipation," Lady T'Prisu remarks with dry wit.

"Do not jest, old woman. Your passing is something I can hardly conceive," Lady T'Pau rebukes.

"Lady T'Pau is right, grandmother," T'Khut agrees with an unhappy frown. "You—are the only grand pleasure I have left in this life."

"Hush," Lady T'Prisu gently scolds as she strokes her frail fingers along the outer outline of T'Khut's ear with unconcealed affection. "In my age, I have little else to think on. But I will make no more comments on it, if it pleases you."

T'Khut's dark eyes go warm with a smile and she briefly touches her fingers to her grandmother's wrist in a quick Vulcan kiss.

Jim bites down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling at the rare and adorable display she feels lucky enough to witness.

"Let us leave," Lady T'Pau murmurs quietly to Jim as she tucks her hands into the deep sleeves of her dark purple robes and exits the tent.

Jim wordlessly follows the elder Vulcan out into the unforgiving sun, where she breaks out into a sweat once more. As they walk towards the southeast of the camp, she asks, "Lady T'Pau—can you please tell me where I can find Prime Spock's marquee? I have a prior engagement with him."

Lady T'Pau looks down at her neutrally before she replies, "I have requested that you address me by T'Pau. Please honor my demand." She waits for Jim's consenting nod before she continues, "As for his marquee, it can be found just thirty-six paces from here on your right." She then goes on to say, "Furthermore, to avoid confusion, we address him as Selek. You may address him however you wish in private, but in the company of others, I urge you to refer to him by this name."

"Understood," Jim agrees. "Thank you."

Lady T'Pau makes a thoughtful sound before she crowds in close enough that Jim has to crane her neck in strain to see her. The elegant Vulcan studies her unabashedly as she remarks, "You have significant appeal. It is easy to understand why both versions of my grandsons would be besotted by you."

Jim flushes violently.

"The older speaks of your praises, while the younger complains," Lady T'Pau notes thoughtfully as she takes in the bright flush spreading across Jim's face. "Yet, the fondness and respect they hold for you is clear. I am to understand that you are difficult and stubborn, but nobly brave and exceedingly intelligent nonetheless." She finally steps back and gives Jim breathing room. "Perhaps you will be good for our clan as Amanda once was. Though I will have to instruct you in the ways of proper etiquette if I am to allow you to escort me to various residences. Good day, James." And with that she disappears from sight.

Jim stares after her in befuddlement for two long minutes before she forcibly shakes herself out of it. She finds Prime Spock's tent with little difficulty. When she enters, she finds him sitting on a mat, eyes closed in concentration and hands clasped in his lap. She pauses and contemplates turning around so she can walk out and give him the privacy he needs.

"Do not fret, Jim," Prime Spock says without opening his eyes. "I am on the verge of completion. I need only a few more moments of silence to stabilize my shields. You may wait if it is your wish to do so."

Jim nods, even though she knows he can't see, and she walks to his level table, plopping down on the ground on the other side of it so she can face Prime Spock and watch him. She props her elbow on the edge of the table and drops her chin in her hand while she quietly waits for him to finish meditating. It doesn't escape her notice that her black hiking boots are under his table. She plucks free the pair of socks inside and unfolds them as she quietly puts them on, and then her hiking boots. It takes a little more time after that for her to properly lace them up.

True to his words, he unfolds his legs and opens his eyes a few moments later. His dark eyes immediately falls on her.

Jim's mouth spreads into a smile before she can help it.

Prime Spock's dark eyes go soft and warmed with a returning smile as his lips twitch. "You are early," he notes as he stands and turns away.

"I know, but—I didn't think you'd mind anyway. I was with T'Pau earlier and Lady T'Prisu. I returned her granddaughter's sketchbook. Her name is T'Khut. Maybe you know them?"

"Affirmative. They are longstanding acquaintances to our clan," Prime Spock confirms as he turns and treks back to the table, revealing a sizeable bag of Ghirardelli chocolate.

Jim perks up with an eager grin. "Is this for me?"

"Indeed," Prime Spock says as he opens the mouth and carefully slides it across the table. "But you may not take it with you. It is my intention to keep them as bait and use it to lure you here when it is convenient."

"Oh you beautiful, sneaky Vulcan—knowing my weaknesses like that," Jim purrs as she looks at him from under her blonde lashes while she pops a chocolate in her mouth. "And you know I'll come too. But I'd still come regardless."

"Call it supplementary provocation," Prime Spock rejoinders with amused eyes. "You mentioned running into T'Pau."

"Well," Jim says around a mouthful of chocolate. "I didn't run into her per say. More like she saw me behaving like an oblivious fanatic. She kindly corrected my pitiful social behavior and took me under her wing. We went and had a nice chat with T'Khut and her grandmother. And long story short, I now have the approval of the elder woman of your family."

"So it would seem," Prime Spock remarks, and again, Jim has a feeling she is being silently laughed at. "I have the impression you do not realize what T'Pau's status is among our people. In the days of old, she would have bore the mark of priestess. There is no equal term for the title by human standards, but it exceedingly noteworthy to us." He watches as she consumes another chocolate with a mystified expression. "She possesses a rather harsh temperament. To outside company, T'Pau can be rather callous and unforgiving of even the smallest blunder. The fact that she took to you so quickly is yet more proof you have a superlative charm that can penetrate even the hardest of hearts."

Jim flushes and tosses a chocolate at him. "Stop—you're making me blush. I'm not that great, you know. One of a kind, sure. But I'm not all grand."

"I strongly disagree, Jim," Prime Spock gently argues. "If I could compare your worth to the stars, it would be as they are—infinite in number and awe-inspiring."

Jim's flush deepens and she has to quickly swallow down the piece of chocolate that hits her tongue, lest she die from suffocation. "You are nuts if you think that," she mumbles timidly as she tries to hide her red face behind the bag of chocolate. She feels hot fingers cover her own and gently lower the bag from her face as she says, "Stop waxing poetic about me."

"Never," Prime Spock vows and unfolds her right hand from the bag so he can press her small knuckles to his warm lips.

Jim shudders as he whispers another small praise over her skin. She is about two seconds from climbing over the table and into his lap. The gleam in his dark eyes suggests that he is aware she might, and he makes no move to stop her.

But of course, that is the exact moment Spock enters the tent. He freezes at the sight of them and he goes a bit green about the tips of his ears.

Jim snatches her hand back and shifts guiltily as though she's been caught digging her fingers in the cookie jar.

"Pardon me. I see that I have intruded on a rather intimate moment. I came only to inform you and my older counterpart that I will be unable to join the session at the time we specified. I have a—prior engagement that will call me away for an undetermined length of time," Spock states stiffly before he spins on his heel and exits the tent.

Jim closes her eyes and sighs. "I should probably go and—" She makes a vague gesture with her hand before opens her eyes and stand. "Hold that thought."

"There is no rush," Prime Spock assures. "It was not my intention to create strife between the two of you."

"Trust me, there was strife long before you came in the picture. I'll talk to him," Jim says. "And if I'm not back for a while, well—the conversation may not have went as pleasantly as I hope it will. But I will be back eventually."

Prime Spock inclines his head wordlessly.

Jim smiles before she exits his tent in search for his younger counterpart. She finds him on the north side of the camps with Rand, and two male Vulcans that are at least a fraction older than Spock. They are dressed in twin metal grey excursion uniforms that must be standard for Vulcan officers, and they have deep-conceal holster vests outfitted to their chests.

Spock is outfitted in his science uniform with a holster around his waist with his phaser, tricorder and communicator. He also has a coffee colored nylon messenger bag looped over his chest.

Rand is outfitted in the standard Starfleet excursion uniform with a black knapsack strapped to his chest and a hoop of rope over his left shoulder.

"What's going on?" Jim asks.

"We are preparing for the expedition, Captain," Rand answers. "Commander Spock is spearheading the excursion."

"Commander Spock?" Jim addresses him in a tight voice and lifts her eyebrows expectantly. "What's going on and why wasn't I told?"

"It was my intention to do so. You were otherwise preoccupied," Spock merely replies as he gives her a vacant look. He clasps his hands behind him as he goes on to say, "It is our objective to pursue the water source located by the scourers commissioned by the Vulcan Council. They have requested me to sanction this location and analyze it further. With methodical adjudication, I will then elect the best possible route of action in terms of outlining the most effectual way of unearthing and deflecting the water source for accessibility."

"Understood—though it would have been nice if they had informed me about their plans for my First Officer," Jim says calmly, even in the wake of an unfurling spell of irritation searing lines into her chest. And though it's hard to admit, she is slightly worried. Call it a gut feeling, but she does not like this.

Spock says nothing, but he doesn't look as if he disagrees.

Jim looks at the two Vulcan officers. "What are your names?"

The tallest one says, "I am called Sefor."

The second one says, "I am called Kovar."

Jim nods and turns her gaze to Rand. "What are you doing here?"

"Curiosity?" Rand offers, and at the flat look Jim gives him, he clarifies, "It really is mutual interest. Plus I'm a bit of an expert on cartography. I overheard the conversation about the expedition and I offered my services to Commander Spock. He accepted."

Jim finds it strange, but not farfetched. "Okay then. But next time I'd like to be consulted about your volunteering. If something happened and I wasn't made aware of your acquaintance to the situation—it would be very compromising for not only you, but me as well. I need to know these things," she says and doesn't hesitate to throw Spock a pointed look. "Regardless of whether or not it was sanctioned by Starfleet or if I'm available to learn of the situation."

"Of course, Captain," Rand says with a sheepish grin.

"Good," Jim says, turning her gaze back to him. "How long will this expedition take?"

"No more than four days at least," Rand answers. "The walk to the North Mountains takes only a few hours. It's the climb up, and navigating inside the mountain's labyrinths that takes the effort I'm told."

Jim looks to Sefor and Kovar and asks, "Is this true?"

"Affirmative, Captain Kirk," Sefor stoically replies.

"And you didn't find anything else? Outside of the water source, I mean."

"Negative," Kovar says. "There was nothing of note."

"But it's not impossible," Jim supposes. "That there could be something else down there."

Sefor and Kovar do not reply, but they do not look at Jim unkindly. They glance away from her and to each other before they aim their gaze forward again.

It's odd.

"All that water and nothing," Jim contemplates aloud. It doesn't seem right. She adds, "I'm coming. I'd like to see for myself as well."

Spock stiffens.

"We do not require your assistance," Sefor states.

"We have need of only your First Officer," Kovar adds.

"No, I get that," Jim replies, and ignores the part of her that is in a fret over the thought that something could happen to Rand and Spock if she is not there to be sure over their safety. She is responsible for them after all. "But I won't be in the way. Call it curiosity, but I think I'm going to tag along."

Spock protests, "Captain, that would be unwise. The risk could be—"

"Just the same if I let the four of you go," Jim coolly interjects. "What's one more person? Besides, I'm not completely helpless. I've taken a few excursion courses. My knowledge is basic but I'm a fast learner."

"I must object, Captain," Spock insists. "You are not suitably equipped."

"I hear what you're saying, but no. I'm going," Jim maintains, because her gut is telling her to. "I understand the caution, but I'll be fine as long as I'm careful. And I know I don't have much of anything but I've survived on less before."

"Captain, I must insist that you remain here."

Jim stares at him and says, "Is that an order, Commander?"

"It is a strong suggestion," Spock returns, leveling her stare with his own.

"Noted. But I'm coming." Jim says with a tone that lets them all know she won't change her mind. "Now, we're wasting daylight by squabbling. We might as well get moving." She looks to Sefor and Kovar. "Please lead the way."

Sefor and Kovar flick their gazes to Spock, then away, before they turn and start a trek towards the North Mountain.

Rand turns on his PADD and begins tracing shapes into it with his stylus pen as he follows the two Vulcan officers.

Jim waits a moment or two before she follows as well. She waits for Spock to match her pace before she says, "We need to talk about earlier."

"Earlier, Captain?"

"The little moment you walked in between older you and I. That," Jim clarifies.

"It is of no importance," Spock decides. He waits a moment longer before he adds, "Though I can fathom how the link between us became so effortlessly formed."

"What does that mean?" Jim scoffs, hackles rising as she glares at him. "Because I have to say that I don't like what you're hinting at about me."

"I am merely proposing that you are simply more prone to his lure when in privacy," Spock clarifies, and the disapproval in his tone is obvious.

Jim snorts bitterly. "Yeah, because I'm such a young and untried woman who falls flat on her back at the slightest bit of flattery," she drawls sarcastically.

"I do not think that of you," Spock brusquely states. "Despite your blatant goading and antagonizing—my view of you remains deferential."

That quiets Jim right up. She purses her lips and crosses her arms. "I'm not sorry," she mutters stubbornly.

"I have not asked you to be," Spock counters evenly.

"Well good," Jim scoffs. "Because I'm not. And I think you suck."

"Acknowledged," Spock tersely replies.

Jim purses her lips again as their trek to the North Mountains becomes a sullenly silent one. "Will you just say something about me?" she finally snaps.

Spock's brow furrows. "I have said all that I intended to on the matter."

"No—that's not how you argue. You don't just let me say what I want and you accept it. You have to say the things about me that you don't like," Jim fusses. "Arguing with you is just like yelling at a helpless puppy, I swear."

"I would prefer if you did not swear in regards to that statement," Spock says with an unhappy frown.

"And?" Jim presses.

"And I find you exceptionally rude."

"And?"

"Childish."

"And?"

"Vexing."

Jim feels her lips twitch helplessly and she tries to stall the amused grin eating at her mouth. "And?"

"I would not be averse to the thought of outranking you in order for you to listen and consider my advice more carefully. Were I captain, you would have stayed put at the camps and I would not have to worry about your wellbeing," Spock admits carefully.

"Yeah, well, I don't like the thought of something happening to you while I'm not near to stop it from happening," Jim confesses. "You frustrate me, but I would never see you harmed. Like I said. You're a puppy to me. My pointy-eared puppy."

"I dislike that analogy," Spock reproves. "Furthermore, you are not suitably dressed for this excursion. Yeomen Rand skims your attire in five minute intervals."

Jim blinks in surprise as a grin overtakes her lips. "Really? Every five minutes?"

"Affirmative," Spock informally confirms. "If you wait thirty seconds you will bare witness to this."

Jim chews on her bottom lip as she waits—but true to his word, Rand glances back at her and flushes when he notices that she's caught him, quickly turning away and hunching down to make himself seem small. "Ha. Okay. I'll let you have that one. But come on—what I'm wearing cant be that bad."

"I do not believe I stated this," Spock impassively returns. "I said that it was ill-suited to the task we are attempting to accomplish. Yeomen Rand's work efficiency has lowered twenty-five percent since your arrival, but it is not a major forfeiture."

"You think he likes me," Jim teases. "Which I already knew, but, it's just amusing to see you notice it. You're like my little pointy-eared puppy chaperone."

"Jim, I must ask you to refrain from comparing me to animals. It is offensive."

"I'm still not sorry."

"Then you are still vexing."

"Good. I'm glad. I want to get on your nerves because as my friend, you deserve the privilege," Jim remarks.

"A curious ideology," Spock states with a lifted brow.

"So what else? I know you've got more to say and I want to hear it." Jim stumbles over a rock. With the steady approach of the mountain, the rocks increase in size.

"I am not comfortable with you conversing so intimately with my older counterpart," Spock announces as his hands clench and unclench at his sides. "It is slightly—I do not like it."

"I'm not going to have sex with him if that's what you're worried about," Jim amusedly assures. "I just—there's something about him. I don't know. When we're alone, I just—I feel so—" She pauses with a blush as she wraps her arms around herself.

Spock cocks his head as they continue their walk and he flicks his dark gaze to her. "What is it?"

"Wanted," Jim admits reluctantly. "He makes me feel like I'm something just—worthy, you know? I don't feel like that. I don't—feel worthy of much when it comes to love and affection." She takes a moment to give a jerky shrug. "I'm a gorgeous woman. I know. But that's all anyone else will ever know. They can't see what's behind this face because I don't want them to. It's a horror story in wait. But when I'm with him he just knows me, and he still—it's hard not to believe the things he says about me. He does love me, all versions, and I think that's amazing really. It's not a physical desire. I just—I kind of hate the thought that he's alone and I know his James died and I can't replace him but I can—I don't know—I can be a friend. I don't need or want it to be more than that. And—oh my god I am just ranting and raving on and on. And you let me do that," she accuses as she pats her red cheeks.

Spock is quiet for a long moment. He must be processing her words. His gaze stays forward as he says, "You are a uniquely difficult individual. But you are not without your charms. He has years of experiencing a paralleled version of you in both the good and the bad. It would not be beyond my older counterpart to have developed an appreciation for the person you are and will become."

Jim sighs heavily and shakes her head. "I don't know if you know this, Spock—but I stopped liking myself a long time ago. And it's hard for me to think otherwise about myself. I don't know what I'll be five years from now or even two weeks from now. All I know is that I'm trying my best. I am trying so very hard to be someone that even I like. And I have my little episodes from time to time, but—I don't know. I'm just here doing what I can."

"I find that I am conflicted at times," Spock warily divulges. "But it is a universal feat, I believe, that every life-form comes to know some difficulty in the midst of their existence. The best way to counter them, however, is to remember that we can only learn from those moments, which temper us. Do not expect of yourself more than you are able to achieve."

"That is some sound advice," Jim marvels with speculative smile. "Why don't I listen to you more often?"

"I have frequently pondered this as well," Spock retorts dryly as he flicks his gaze to her and lifts his brow. "But I have also come to value your tenacity—you are often correct in your assumptions as well."

"It's called instinct, and I use it more than I do my intellect, which I'm not saying is a bad thing to do. But sometimes, I think it is good to be more logical about things then instinctive," she concedes. "That's why I need you. You frustrating Vulcan. You make me edgy but I need you. You're a good friend and I can't see my life without you."

Spock stiffens and there is a light tinge of green dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "I—return the sentiment," he yields reluctantly.

Jim snorts amusedly at her emotionally stunted First Officer. She has the deepest urge to keep pestering and teasing him until he's flushed from head to toe, but she's not such a jerk all the time. She pushes the urge back and keeps to herself, silently observing their surroundings with interest.

The sun is bright and persistent, which leads Jim to continually wipe the sweat from her brow, lest she wants to feel the salty sting in her eyes. The only person who makes noise is Rand, and much to her amusement, it's humming—the humming of show tunes that is. A lot of them are unfamiliar to her but there is a handful she recognizes. When she glances over to Spock, she notices the way he lifts his eyebrow in inquiry towards the back of Rand's oblivious head.

Sefor and Kovar keep up a steady march, barely turning or cocking their heads in any other direction besides their intended destination. They keep their hands clasped behind them against their lower back. Their paces also match.

Jim jams her hands in the front pockets of her navy overall shorts as a gust of dry air loops around her partially bare navel, arms, and legs. She glances up at the blue sky, and briefly searches out her ship before she lowers her gaze to the North Mountains. They are huge, beastly things—red and unevenly molded up to pointed tips. It reminds her of a red Mount Kilimanjaro. The base of the mountain is a tomato red, and as the rocks elevate, the color dulls off into a terracotta color. As she looks on with continuing interest, she notices how the ground that expands out from the North Mountains are crackling off into brownish red mud clay textures, with sizeable rocks littering random areas.

Jim frowns as her brain kicks into high gear.

By the time they reach the base of the North Mountain, it's already nightfall and it's unanimously decided that they will just stop and make camp.

It's a safer climb in the daylight hours.

Jim makes a fire using clay and stones and a bit of extra rope and the laser setting on her tricorder and it is glorious how baffled everyone is at her ability to do it. Not all the tricks she learns from Tarsus are bad ones.

Not long after that, Sefor and Kovar do not stick around to make camp with them. They explain that they must seek out a suitable place to begin the climb and lower the risk of danger as much as marginally possible. They separate—Sefor heads east and Kovar heads wet—and they begin their treks along the base of the mountain.

Jim sits beside Rand as Spock sits on the other side of the fire, working quietly and efficiently on his PADD. "So why is the mountain so steep?" she asks and turns to fully face Rand.

Rand stores his PADD away as he says, "That's a good question. I think it has to do a lot with the mantle erosion. It'll take at least a day to get to workable grounds where we can just trek upwards instead of climbing. I mean, no one has mentioned feeling any tremors. Yet the base of the mountain seems to be pushing outwards, as though it's being forced in this general direction. It's probably something that happens every century."

"10 mm/year at most," Spock clarifies without looking up from his PADD, the little intellectual multi-tasker. "The tectonic forces will have pushed the North Mountains up by as much as 25 kilometers. The amount of structural relief is 35,000 feet, which indicates a rate of uplift of 4.5 inches per hundred years."

Rand's eyebrows lift in captivation by such thoroughness. He looks at Jim with the same baffled expression.

"Yeah, he does that," Jim explains with a fondly entertained smile. "He's somuch fun at parties."

Spock briefly glances at Jim before he returns his gaze back down to his PADD.

The message in that look does not elude Jim in the slightest and it makes her smile widen in amusement. She turns to Rand and says, "So did you claim your throne?"

Rand laughs with a light blush and shifts timidly as he pulls free a canteen full of soup from his knapsack. "Yeah, I did. Thankfully. It was quite the challenge, but once I inserted my system into it, everything was nicely organized and functional," he remarks. "You don't know how many sick days were unaccounted for. There's going to be a handful of happy officers in the next two weeks. They'll have received the money they were due and it's pretty sizeable. I mean, what they get wont be a lot, but, it's enough to by some furniture."

"That is a reason to be happy," Jim laughs as Rand flushes again with an embarrassed shrug. For someone so attractive, he was adorably awkward and self-conscious. She nods when he makes an offering gesture to the soup in his hand. She takes the cup and holds it steady as he pours her some broth.

"Sorry to say, but it's probably just warm," Rand warns, but Jim waves him off.

"That's totally fine with me. I really hate hot liquids," she assures. "Bad past experiences and all that."

"Yeah, okay. Sure," Rand says with a bemused grin. He looks across the fire. "Commander Spock—can I tempt you with some homemade chicken soup?"

"Thank you, but I will decline," Spock replies without looking up from his PADD.

Rand just shrugs and turns his attention back to Jim.

"So, um," Jim drawls, drumming up some conversation. "With your outstanding administrative skills—how exactly did you get into the mountain climbing and cartography business?"

Rand smiles and ducks his head as he pours himself some soup. "Well," he starts. "It was my grandfather actually. He was a bit of a map enthusiast. He just, loved the stuff and he collected all sorts of diagrams or emulated a region he knew from mere memory. My brothers didn't think much of it, but I thought it was amazing—and so when I wasn't stargazing or nose deep in a book or drawing charactures, I was right up under my grandfather in his study, watching and listening and learning. After he died, I sort of took on his hobby. The mountain climbing, however, is just another pastime of mine. When you live on a farm for most of your life, you get a bit antsy about seeing anything other than a bunch of chickens or cows or corn or your dick brothers—pardon my language."

Jim chuckles and waves him off. "No, it's fine. I completely get what you mean. Dicks and all. I grew up in Iowa so I know how it goes. When I was old enough to get out and about on my own, that's exactly what I was doing," she says as she takes a sip. "I don't know what it is about open fields and corn—but it just makes you wanna fly the coop doesn't it?"

"I think I was fishing for my aviator's license the moment I left my mother's womb," Rand jokes as he chuckles into the cup of his broth.

Jim hums and licks her lips. "This is good. I don't drink a lot of soups, granted—but this is really good. You made it yourself you said?"

"Yup," Rand confirms as he finishes his cup.

"You're a man of many talents it seems," Jim speculates. "So why did you pick administrative work, and why'd you pick Starfleet?"

"I don't know really. I guess its just one of those things. I've always wanted to sail the stars and keep my feet off the ground," Rand supposes as he tears open the wrapper for a granola bar. "I have no complaints about what I'm doing. I really like it and when I'm not doing it, I get to work on all other sorts of projects. So at the moment, where I'm at is perfect. I like my bosses, and the people I work with and it's just—great."

Jim gives a thoughtful hum as she finishes up her cup of soup. She hands it back to Rand, who exchanges it for a granola bar. She uses her teeth to tear the wrapper off.

"What about you, Captain?" Rand takes a moment to chew before he goes on to ask, "Brothers? Sisters? Hobbies? Interests? Family recipes? I feel like I said too much about myself. Let's level the playing field."

Jim snorts and says. "Okay." She finishes chewing the bite in her mouth before she continues, "I have one brother, and two sisters. They're all younger than me. They're sweethearts and they write me all the time. They make me want to be a better person and all that other mushy gushy stuff. I don't have any family recipes that I'm aware of. Um—when I'm not playing captain, I like to gorge myself on apples and chocolate."

"Nothing wrong with that," Rand quips as he toasts his granola bar at her.

"I really enjoy playing chess, or I used to. I haven't played since I left the academy. I used to throttle my roommate all the time, and he would hate me for it but I didn't care. I really like doing hair too, now that I think about. I used to be the braid guru back when I was at the academy. I had all manner of women coming to me with this idea they had for their hair or they'd let me take free reign," Jim says, and she takes another bite of her granola.

"Awesome," Rand remarks with an impressed nod. "So what do you think? Can you do something with my hair?"

"Sure, if we add some extensions," Jim replies with a chuckle. "Uh—what else? I—am a bit of a science and math geek. I love a good difficult equation. The more challenging, the better. I dabble in different subjects too, so that's something we have in common. I read up on botany from time to time. I love animals—which is why I'm a semi-vegetarian. But I can't resist a good chicken or turkey—yeah I know, stop laughing because it's true. I enjoy nonfictional books, and I have maybe even a handful of books that are fiction but otherwise I can't get into it. I love to surf. And I'm a bit of a shopaholic if you give me half the chance."

"What about instruments?" Rand says as he shoves the granola wrapper in his knapsack. "Is there anything you play?"

"Not really. I mean I can play the piano really well, and I'm kinda handy with a guitar," Jim supposes with a mild shrug. "But other than that, nope. How about you?"

"Guitars are my life, I won't lie. I used to be in a band back in high school," Rand admits with embarrassed flush as Jim covers her mouth and laughs into her palm. "Yeah—we called ourselves Mad Candy."

Jim snorts and turns away as she laughs.

"I can't believe I'm admitting this, but the inspiration for the name came from this crush I had back in grade school. There was this girl named Madeline Candy and I just was never over it," Rand admits with a self-deprecating headshake.

"Awe, that's kind of sweet," Jim chuckles as she fans at her reddened face and moist eyes. "And you know what? I still remember my first crush. They were twins. Alana and Aaron Weathers."

"Wow. You didn't settle for just one," Rand notes with an amused grin.

"I sure didn't," Jim confirms. "But you know they turned out to be total pricks later on. So, you know—best thing I never had."

"True," Rand agrees as he stands. "Excuse me, Captain. Nature calls."

Jim just nods and watches him disappear into the gathering darkness with nothing but a flashlight, leaving her alone with Spock.

"You are interested in him," Spock resolutely states, shaking the still silence of the night.

"What makes you think that?" Jim drawls with a meticulous expression.

"Your behavior indicates it."

"Oh," Jim simply says and wiggles her mouth thoughtfully. "Do you—is that a—problem?"

"No," Spock merely says. "However, if you are to pursue a relationship, given that your ranks supersedes his—I urge you to be discreet."

"Spock," Jim drawls with a fond smile. "Is that actual approval for something that goes against regulation?"

"It would appear so," Spock admits evenly as he gives her a brief glance before he calls his attention back to the PADD in his lap. "I am given to understand that friends offer support and advice in such situations."

Jim doesn't say anything, but her smile does lengthen. She makes a mental note to buy him something nice.

What did Vulcans like exactly? Paperclips maybe?

Jim snorts and rolls her eyes at herself, just as Rand returns. They chat animatedly a little while after that, and she ends up growing more and more interested in Rand. He tuckers in after a while after a string of yawns, and because she can tell he's tired, she lets him be. He gives her a timid smile as he rolls out his sleep mat and spreads out, falling asleep in mere seconds. She observes him for a few quiet minutes before she crawls over to Spock and sits beside him.

"What have you been working on this whole time?" she asks with unconcealed curiosity.

"Various projects," Spock vaguely explains. "Dr. Cruise has forwarded me a list of Vulcan plants that are being voluntarily donated to Starfleet from an array of planets. I am examining the list to confirm which plants will be of use to New Vulcan and which will not. Also, there are several species that have offered to bestow animals that have originated from Vulcan unto us. I am to verify this list as well."

"Cool," Jim remarks with nod. She yawns without meaning to.

"You are fatigued," Spock notes without looking at her fully. He pauses his work to extract his sleep mat from his knapsack.

Jim spies a pair of binoculars and she perks up eagerly. "Can I see those? The binoculars."

Spock hands her the binoculars along with the sleep mat.

"Thanks," Jim says, but then frowns. "Wait, aren't you going to sleep?"

"I do not necessarily require it," Spock assures. "Though I am aware that humans generally do."

"Well thanks again. I kinda feel like I'm being a pain and putting you out but thanks," she says and stands, unfolding the sleep mat out on east side of the fire.

Spock inclines his head wordlessly before he focuses his attention back to his PADD and his work.

Jim unlaces her boots, takes off her socks as she wiggles her toes and lies on her back under the stars. It's truly a beautiful sight. Her plum painted toes wiggle and flex in contentment as the fire crackles beside her. She manually sets the binoculars and aims it up at the sky as she zooms in on different constellations with a smile. She yawns and flexes her toes again as she silently names the constellations and their points while simultaneously adjusting the focus and zoom.

It's the most content she feels in a long time.

888

Jim falls asleep without knowing that she's done it. She dreams that's she's still wide-eyed and staring up at the sky as the fire crackles beside her. She's counting the stars when she decides to get up and walk in the opposite direction of their little camp. The night is calm and the air is warm, flushing her skin from head to toe as she treks barefoot across the uneven plains of rocks and sand. She walks for a good two hours before she just stops and drops to her knees before she plops back on her butt. She folds her legs like a pretzel under herself and grips her ankles as a gentle breeze sways her long bangs into her blue eyes.

She thinks about how upset Spock will be when he looks up and notices that she is not present.

But when Jim looks down and sees the phrase 'KODOS LIVES' carved into deep proud lines in the sand, she can't find it in herself to care much about that.

Shadows pass overhead and at the caw of a bird, Jim looks up to see vultures and ravens circling above.

A hole forms in her gut, and it's engraved from anger and fear and uncertainty. It burns and bubbles low in her bowels, rising up past her navel and into her chest like acid. Her hands are shaking, her lips are dry and her eyes are burning in the confines of her sockets but no tears fall. She doesn't cry in disappear—there is none inside of her. She's angry—so fucking mortified with fury that she can barely keep it in as her shoulders tremble.

That fucker Kodos is free and alive and out there somewhere.

She hates that—hates it—hates him.

There is a part of Jim that is a bit gleeful at the prospect. There is a sliver of something dark and anxious and full of anticipation at the thought. If she could get her hands on him, she would rip him to fucking shreds until there was nothing left but blood and bone—for all those boys, she would fucking do it for all those boys. Back then, she couldn't do anything at all. She was small and weak and scared. But now, oh now, she could do so much. So much.

Jim cringes as a furious sob presses against the inside of her ribcage on all sides in efforts to escape. She starts to gasp as her heart thumps in distress and bowls her over onto her hands and need in a panting mess. She grunts and gasps as she punches her hands in the ground until she's wrists deep and fisting the sand in her hands. Goosebumps wrack her body as she coughs and wheezes. Her skin feels taunt and tight and oh God—she's having a fucking panic attack. She hasn't had one this bad in years. Not since Tarsus—and God she can't get a handle over it—it just—it hurts so much to try and keep it in.

Jim trembles before she screams at the ground in one long breath until she's forced to stop and gasp sharply. She coughs out a sob as her lungs contract and she lets out another hoarse scream while she slams her fist into the ground. She hiccups into another gasp, then coughs out another ragged scream while she beats her hands into the sand in a fit of rage and agony. Every time she screams out she is making an incoherent vow to hunt Kodos down and rip him into shreds with her bare hands. She would. She would.

On her father's fucking grave she swears she would—

"Jim."

Jim hiccups and coughs.

"Jim, what is the matter?"

Jim shakes her head as she sits back on her legs and hiccups. "Everything," she whimpers as she presses her mouth into the curled fingers of her hands. "Everything is wrong. He's alive and it's not fair. It's not fair."

"Who? Who is alive?"

Jim stares vacantly into the distance as her body jerks with another hiccup. She points at the phrase carved into the sand. The silence that follows is louder than it should be.

"Jim."

Jim lifts her glassy blue eyes and looks at Spock and blinks at him. He is crouched on his knees beside her in his science uniform. The blue looks good against his pale skin. She blinks and says, "How did you find me?"

"I do not know. I—sensed something was amiss."

Jim stares at him blankly for a long moment before she looks away and says, "Well it's a good thing we're going to get this link blocked soon. Sometimes I don't want to be found."

Spock studies her carefully before he replies, "You do not know you are asleep."

"Am I?" Jim retorts as she blinks through a series of tears. "Am I asleep and I don't even know it?"

"Under high levels of stress, the body can succumb to immediate catalepsy. It is not uncommon among humans," Spock remarks in that lecturing monotone way of his. "I sensed your distress, and out of concern, I accosted your mind."

"I don't want you to do that," Jim says as she stumbles to her feet. "I don't need your help. I don't need Bones's help. I don't need anyone's help. I'm fine on my own. I've always been on my own. I'm not weak anymore, I can take care of things myself."

"Why should you have to?" Spock counters as he stands and tucks his hands behind him. "I am your friend. Allow me to share the burden."

"No," Jim simply says. "How can I when you won't even let me offer the same courtesy?"

"I am unsure to what you—"

"I know your people have been giving you a hard time," Jim mumbles. "You've done enough to keep me out of that."

Spock tenses, and tersely replies, "It is a personal matter."

"Well so is this," Jim counters with a tremor in her voice. She's scared. She's angry and spiteful and scared and she doesn't want Spock to see her like this. It's shameful and she doesn't want him to know how badly she actually wants him here to help. She doesn't want to be weak—she can't be weak. "I—I don't need you here. So get out of my head and leave me alone. I don't want you here. Friend or not."

Spock hesitates, but he steps back, and the hurt he feels is clear in his tense shoulders as he says, "Very well."

Jim swallows dryly as she watches his outline dissipates and come to nothing. Her fingers twitch along her sides as she closes her eyes. When she opens them, she's staring up into an illuminated sky. She briefly shudders against the heat of the daylight and shoves her feelings down as deep as she can before she rolls into a sitting position. She nods quietly at a smiling Rand who is already wide-eyed and ready to continue their expedition. He's rolling up his mat and shoving it in his steel tube, before he jams that into his knapsack.

Jim rolls her bottom lip between her teeth as she wordlessly hands Spock back his sleeping mat and binoculars. She doesn't miss the way he avoids her gaze as he accepts it, nor the perturbed furrow of his brow, the unnatural stiffness of his posture and the set line of his shoulders. She refuses to feel guilty—she doesn't have time for it—she can sort it out later.

Sefor and Kovar have returned from their investigative hike, and are waiting patiently for them to gather and follow them to the place they have designated as a suitable place to begin the climb.

The walk to said place takes fifteen minutes, and without hesitation, Sefor and Kovar begin climbing the North Mountain without the aid of rope or any kind of hoisting device.

Jim is mildly impressed, but not the least bit surprised.

Spock studies the frame of the wall before he follows his Vulcan counterparts up, taking careful mounts and fewer pauses.

This leaves her and Rand to fend for themselves the way humans usually do when they have to climb a mountain. Rand does most of the work and preparation, since he has more hands-on experience. He ties himself off with the intelliRope and makes sure that the connecting line to Jim is just as secure. Then he carefully outfits Jim's hands with the BioGloves, which he claims will make the climb all the easier and quicker. The insides of these grey gloves are cool and comfortable, while the outside is rubber gel like with tiny air pockets stamped around the raised bumps and grooves along the palm and finger pads.

"No worries," Rand assures as he begins a careful ascent. "The gloves will remember the grooves and do the rest of the work. Just pace yourself and tug my rope three times if there's any problem or you need me to slow down."

Jim begins to climb up behind him with a grin and says, "What if I need you to speed up?"

Rand laughs with the wind and throws her down a wink. He then focuses on his climb.

The mount is fairly easy—easier than what Jim originally thought. She must be in better shape than she realizes, but then again she is a little twig so it's not like she's hauling a lot of weight up the mountain. She can't even really whine about her weight because she doesn't eat. It's not intentional, but when she's preoccupied she just doesn't really think about it. As she climbs, she makes a little promise to herself to try and change that. If she's fortunate enough to have food than she should enjoy it. After all, it wasn't too long ago when she would have given anything for a piece of bread.

Jim stumbles and falls down a few paces with a hiss. She waves her hand to Rand to assure him she's all right. She really should have known better to think about Tarsus at a time like this. So she flushes it from her mind and focuses on the task at hand.

By nightfall, they reach their designated checkpoint. It's taken a whole day to get at least a third of the way up the North Mountains, and they still had far to go, but it was progress at least.

Rand chats enthusiastically about how fascinating he finds the texture of the mountain. It's unlike anything he's ever encountered. The rocks should usually be more solidified than they are, but they felt and appeared damp—almost like hardened clay.

Spock briefly shares in the opinion, stating how he noticed it as well.

Jim doesn't say anything at all. She remains as quiet as Sefor and Kovar have.

At the arrival of their designated camp, the two eldest Vulcans have kept mostly to themselves.

Rand tosses her two granola bars and she doesn't hesitate eating them.

When she finishes, she scurries off and mumbles, "Bathroom break." No one follows her and she finds some rock to stoop behind. Her communicator chirps.

"McCoy to Kirk damn it!"

Jim smiles, flips open her communicator and responds, "Kirk here. Cool your jets."

"Where have you been? I've been tryin' to reach you all day."

Jim frowns as she straightens from her crouched position and fixes her clothes. "Really? All day?"

"I believe that's what I said. Now where are you?"

"On an excursion for water through the North Mountains with Spock and company," Jim explains as she wanders further off.

"Oh yeah? And how long is this little adventure gonna take?"

"Don't know. Couple more days at least." Jim stops at the edge of a cliff and peers down. It's a great thing she's not afraid of heights, otherwise the view she sees would have been gut wrenching. "I know it's hard, but try not to miss me too much."

"Yeah—full—aren't—" Static interference. "Supposed—with—gut—"

Jim frowns and glares down at her communicator as she hits the side of it against the butt of her palm. "Bones? Hey—can you—can you hear me?"

"Goin'—and—much—" More static. "Jim—hear—Jim—"

"Bones?"

The connection dies with a ping.

Jim sighs and studies her device with a thoughtful frown as she holds it up to the sky. She tries to dial back but the whirr and ping of the connection drop clues her in that she's not going to have much luck. She curses lowly and snaps the communicator shut with a resigned sigh. She crosses an arm over her chest as she rubs the top of her communicator against her chin thoughtfully, staring into the barely visible rocky outlines of the mountainside.

That's when she sees it. A large darting figure that disappears just as quickly as it appears.

"What—the—fuck?" Jim mutters as she hunches down on her knees and leans closer to the edge, searching rapidly for the darting black shadow. A hand falls down on her shoulder making her jump back with a yelp and scramble to her feet, hands curled over her phaser and aimed to stun.

"Whoa! Whoa! Don't shoot me!" Rand begs, shielding his face in a weak attempt of protection. "Commander Spock asked me to check on you because you were taking a long time. We were worried you might've gotten lost or fell or something—can you lower that thing, they make me nervous."

Jim relaxes her stances and returns her phaser back to her holster. "This isn't right," she mutters as she looks down at her feet. She picks up a smooth stone that is as big as her hand.

"What? What happened?" Rand questions with a curious frown. "What isn't right?"

"None of it," Jim insists as she turns the rock over several times. "To begin with—my First Officer was sanctioned by the Vulcan Council for an expedition I wasn't made aware of beforehand or even asked about." She pauses and throws the rock. It clatters somewhere unseen. Jim picks up another hefty stone to repeat the action. "Then—the shapes of these rocks—growing larger and larger as we get closer to the mountain. It's not that hard to figure out that they must be like some sort chipped off debris of the moment caused by a kind friction or a—a—quake." She continues to chuck rocks as they clatter. She's throwing a bit aimlessly but she has a point to prove. "Then I have static interference with my communicator which is the only kind of thing that should occur if I so happened to be on top of a volcano. Which we shouldn't be on, am I right? Not unless our Vulcan companions have failed to mention the fact—which is another thing." She swipes some more stones from off the ground and begins throwing those. "I know Vulcans can be quiet and a bit to themselves—I should know, I work with one—but even then they aren't that quiet. Which makes me think they are hiding something. And lastly—this." She turns away and chucks the biggest stone she can find as far as she can and waits for a resounding echo.

There is none.

Rand frowns as they search the dark together. "Why wasn't there a report?" he mutters. "A stone that big—it should've been one like with the others—but, there was no sound."

"That's because someone caught it. Someone, or something," Jim explains blankly as they continue to stare out into the darkness of the mountain. "We're being followed."

"Oh," Rand says weakly. "Well I—maybe we should mention this to the others?"

"No. Not yet," Jim decides. "Not until we see what's inside this mountain."

Rand nods wordlessly and turns away, heading back to their little camp.

Jim lingers a moment longer, searching the dark and waiting for movement that never comes. She slides away and returns to the camp as well.

Sefor and Kovar are nowhere to be found.

"Where's the other two?" Jim asks, looking at Spock, who is sitting as far as he can away from the edge and against the mountain wall.

"They are seeking privacy to meditate," Spock replies without looking up from his PADD. He must still be upset with her.

Jim looks at Rand who returns the look with a mildly speculative shrug. She sighs and drops herself on the other side of Rand, who is sitting several paces away from Spock. She folds her legs under her as she looks out into the distance, vaguely making out the outlines of the camps, which are illuminated by torches and lamps. From this distance, the camps look so small and meager, compared to the rest of the planet. But Jim knows that there are over 12,500 bodies out there—2,500 being her own doubled crew, while the Vulcans made up the other 10,000.

"Looks small," Rand murmurs as he leans his head back against the wall and crosses his arms. "The camps."

"I was just thinking that," Jim admits as she pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees.

"Back home," Rand continues. "When my granddad was still alive—he'd called that sort of thing 'God vision'."

"God vision?"

Rand nods and explains, "When you see something—like really look at it, and it's the smallest aspect of a bigger view. It's like looking with the eyes of God." He shrugs and shakes his head thoughtfully. "This is creation—it's beyond comprehension, but, here it all is."

"Hm," Jim hums as she cocks her head against her knees and peers at the camps. A warm breeze sways in and brings with it silence and solidarity.

Rand falls asleep with his head cocked back against the wall and his mouth agape—but he doesn't snore. She's coming to understand that Rand has the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a dime. It's amusing as much as it is adorable.

Jim glances across him at Spock, whose face is illuminated by the light of his PADD. She makes sure to pull her gaze away before he notices. She bows her head and presses her forehead against her knees and shuts her eyes.

She dreams about a group of crows walking in a circle around a raven lying face up with its feet in the air and wings expanded in a puddle of its own blood.

The caws of the crows echo ominously in her ears, even long after she wakes.

888

The second day of the climb is way easier than the first—just for the simple fact that Sefor and Kovar lead them up to an open pathway that winds around the mountain and to the channels they've specified held the water source.

Jim is sweating and uncomfortable and sticky and she's changing her mind about this whole rock-climbing thing. Her feet are sore, simply because her damp feet keep sliding against the walls of her borrowed cleats. Rand's feet are bigger than her own of course, so it results in some uncomfortable friction. She silently hopes she isn't getting callouses as they round another bend. If she is, she's so going to make Rand give her feet the spa treatment after all this.

Sefor and Kovar stop at the mouth of a cave and retrieve their flashlights from the inside of their holster vests, aiming them towards the darkness of the cave. They enter in without really waiting for the rest of them.

Jim frowns as she takes off her cleats and hands them to Rand in exchange for an extra flashlight he has. "Be careful, Rand. I know I shouldn't have to tell you that, but I am for my own security," she says.

"Will do boss. Nice and easy." Rand gives her the thumbs-up after he tucks the cleats away in his knapsack and aims his flashlight at the cave opening before he begins his descent inside.

Spock wordlessly follows behind him.

Jim exhales heavily before she turns on her flashlight. The light sputters a few times, and she has to hit the head to get it to work. She travels carefully across jaggedly sharp stones to the mouth of the cave. It's damply cool, a relief from the heat—and as she presses her hand against the wall, she notices that its moist with moss and water. She flinches slightly when a drop of water hits her cheek. Her flashlight sputters, shrouding her with darkness and she's forced to stop with the attempt of shaking it on. It takes ten minutes but it finally illuminates again, but by this point she can't really see Spock or Rand.

"Hey guys," Jim calls as she uses the back of her hand to dry her face. "Not so fast, please." She aims her flashlight around as she tries to get an awareness of her surroundings.

There is a clatter of a rock behind her.

Jim turns in the direction of the sound but there's nothing there. She puts her free hand on the handle of her phaser just in case.

Moving on, she notices that the floor of the cave is made of a bed of small stones with smooth faces and water in between the gapes. She definitely can't even see Rand or Spock anymore—let alone Sefor and Kovar.

"Great," Jim mutters with a sigh. She shakes her head and aims her flashlight around to see if she can find a way to figure out where they went.

Of course, that's when she comes to three separate entrances.

"Fuck me," Jim mumbles as she eyes the three openings. She huffs with an annoyed sigh and pulls her communicator free. "Kirk to Spock."

Nothing.

"Kirk to Spock. Come in if you read me."

Nothing.

Jim's face scrunches unhappily as she holds up her communicator. She has no signal. Swell.

She hears a caw and another clatter of a rock to her immediate left. Quickly aiming her flashlight to the third entrance, she carefully steps in that general direction to locate the source of the sound.

"Hello!" she calls, but it's only her voice that echoes. She follows the channel down until she hears the unmistakable roar of water. She sees sunlight and when she exits the wet tunnel, she's immediately assaulted by a cool breeze intertwined with mist.

It's a massive sea cavern of ice green waterfalls interlaced with plant vines tattooing the walls. It's awe-inspiring as much as it is surprising. It smells like rain, and as she stands on the edge of a small cliff, she looks down into the crystal clear water formed from the multiple waterfalls coming from up above through different openings. She switches her flashlight off, there's no need for it anymore, and peers around at each waterfall again. She looks down into the still waters below.

"Captain Kirk!" Rand calls as he and Spock appear at the exit she just came from.

"Hey. What happened?" Jim asks as she turns toward them and puts her back to the falls.

Spock tenses as he eyes her position at the edge of the stony platform, and says, "We were attempting to locate Sefor and Kovar when they deliberately departed from us. During which, Yeomen Rand explained to me your suspicions of them."

Jim gives Rand a look.

"Sorry—I just—I had too," Rand says as he rubs the back of his neck timidly. "I didn't want either of us walking into a trap. And we had to find you so—"

"You went through the other tunnels?" Jim questions, ignoring her irritation for the moment.

"Yeah, dead ends. Both of them. Except for this one of course," Rand replies as he looks around with a baffled expression. "Guess they were right about the water source. But why'd they lead us up here just to leave us?"

"I don't think they intended for you and I to be here," Jim supposes as she looks directly at Spock.

Spock's brow furrows, but he doesn't seem ignorant of what she's trying to imply.

"This is going way too far," Jim states, barely able to contain her anger. "If you won't do anything about them, then I will."

Suddenly, twin stoic voices reverberate off the walls of the sea cavern.

"Khosaar t'suk'kunel zhu-tor nash ishtaya kulah vestal ma etak J'Kah nufaya."

A smoky cloud of fog forms among the ceiling of the sea cavern. Small sparks twist around this cloud as the waters below begin to spin inward into a vortex. A crack of thunder follows a massive quake, and seriously, Jim is beginning to fucking hate lightening.

"Nar-tor nash-trufemu. Nar-tor nash-trufemu."

"What is that?" Rand says as he looks around.

"Sounds like a bunch of cowards!" Jim yells as she looks around for Sefor and Kovar.

"It is a prayer." Spock eyes are dark with unhappiness and concern. "They are praying to the old gods—executing a sacramental ritual that has been prohibited for many centuries."

Rand looks at the storm cloud in dismay and says, "But why?"

"Because these rituals do not follow the principles of Surak—and also because the ritual requires a living blood sacrifice," Spock murmurs as his eyes lower from the massive storm cloud forming overhead, and down to Jim. "I believe I was the intended victim of choice. But Captain Kirk is—" He shoulders tense further as understanding usurps his normally stoic expression. "Captain—if you remove yourself from the edge, you will find me most appreciative," he urges with a barely concealed tremor in his voice. His eyes look shaded with something darker than concern.

Jim pauses when she remembers that the way she is standing and where she is standing is the same that his mother stood on the day she died. She's definitely not insensitive to the fact that this is presenting a major problem for Spock. She moves to step away but the platform shakes and weakens under feet stalling her escape. Her heart thumps wildly out of anxiety and she realizes that if she takes another step, the cliff will just collapse under her feet.

"Spock—" Jim gets cut off as the ground beneath her rumbles all the more.

Spock steps forward as he quickly studies the ground under Jim's feet with considerate calculation. "Yeomen Rand—as soon as you are able, you must flee the mountains." He takes another step towards her. "Sefor and Kovar may seek to harm you."

"Don't," Jim warns as she works to maintain her balance by keeping her feet apart and her hands level with her chest—the same way she would stand if she were on a surfboard. "If you come any closer—then you'll just fall and die with me."

Spock stubbornly ignores her, concentrating only on distributing the weight of his footfalls evenly so that he can make it to her. He takes another step forward as he goes on to address Rand, "When you are at a safe distance, you must hail the Enterprise and instruct them to beam you aboard. Do the same for my father as well and locate a security team. You must not speak to anyone outside of them otherwise. A search party will be required."

"Stop!" Jim shouts, watery eyes finally catching his determined gaze. He looks at her wordlessly and for a brief moment, time seems to stall as she slowly shakes her head at him. "Don't make me drag you down with me—just go with Rand and get—"

"Jim, quiet yourself," Spock says as he takes another step forward. "You are behaving irrationally."

"Me? What about you? You stubborn—" Jim gasps as she feels the rocky platform beneath her feet give way.

Spock lunges across what little space there is between them and folds her in his arms as they go crashing into the cyclone of water.

It's a mess of darkness and rough tugs as the current pulls them under into a region unknown. They collide into a turf of rocks, Spock taking most of the blows in efforts to use his own body to shield Jim's more fragile frame. She knows he must be in a lot of pain because his arms tighten painfully around her ribs several times. But by some miracle, they survive the turbulence of the whirlpool, which sucks them in from one end and thankfully spouts them out the other. They wash ashore along a bank of stones.

Jim coughs wetly and gasps, greedily sucking in as much air as she can. She's soaked from head to toe and she feels like she skinned her knees, elbows, and even her chin. She's definitely dislocated her shoulder and her ribs feel sore all around, but thankfully not broken. She quickly looks at Spock, who is lying unconscious in the tide of the water. She hobbles over on the ankle that doesn't feel like it's sprained and uses what little strength she has to pull him completely from the water.

It's no easy feat. Spock feels like he weighs a hefty ton. But she manages somehow, and she drags him all the way to a nearby boulder sticking up from the sand. She puts her hand under his nose and sighs in relief when she feels air hitting her fingers. She takes a moment to asses the damage to his body and she winces when she notices, outside of the green bruise in his right cheek and his split bottom lip, the severely deep cut sliced into the shin of his right leg—and oh God, she can even see a bit of bone.

Not good. Not good at all.

Spock's eyes flutter open and he tenses in pain and discomfort, but his eyes immediately seek her out and he seems to relax when he notices she's right by his side.

"I'm sorry," Jim says around a watery cough while she hugs her arm around her creaking ribcage and uses the other to clasp Spock's upper arm. "You really shouldn't have done that! God—I'm so sorry. "

"It is no matter," Spock rasps as he struggles to sit up. He manages on his third try and with her help. He props himself against the boulder behind them. "Where are you hurt?"

Jim swallows dryly as her shoulders and ribs ache. "Shouldn't you be asking me if I'm hurt?"

Spock's mouth flattens into a grim line as a layer of sweat breaks out across his forehead under his short bangs. "If I do," he rasps. "You will merely lie."

"I'm fine," Jim lies anyway. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Where are you injured?"

"Can you even still feel your legs?"

"James—"

"Oh my God, you frustrating Vulcan!" Jim says with as much exasperation as she can muster. She unbuttons her overalls and lets the upper half fall and shows him the purpling bruises forming across her lower ribcage where he was clinging to her tightly. "I don't think anything's broken, but it hurts like hell—cant be helped though. I think I dislocated my left shoulder, but I can set it back myself. I've done it before. And I've got a few scrapes but I'll live. There. That's it, that's all. You're the one with the serious injuries. You tried to break my fall you idiot—I wish you hadn't done that."

"There was a great probability that your neck would have snapped on impact during the commotion of the whirlpool had I not. Also, there was an undeniable likelihood that had you landed any other way, your collision would have ensued a far more serious contusion in your skull, resulting in internal bleeding and subsequent death by drowning. Either way, you could have died. The fact alone is unacceptable—however, I will heal and you are still alive," Spock calmly specifies.

Jim stares at him for a long moment before she throws all caution to the wind and hugs him, exhaling shakily as he stiffens under her touch.

Spock eventually relaxes under her and remains quiet, having enough sense not to ask her to remove herself.

Jim eventually manages to catch her bearings and pulls away with damp eyes. She exhales shakily once more as she looks around and tries to think up a plan. They seem to be in a gigantic cave located on the opposite end of where they initially were in the mountain. She looks to the mouth of the cave and out into the distance where she can see rolling hills of sand and sky.

She turns back to Spock, who is paler than he normally would be. She looks down at his leg and begins to rip the pantleg of his trousers off. She can see thickly dark green bruises all around the inner thigh of his right leg. "You have a quadriceps contusion," she says as she uses the cloth to cover the open wound on his shin. Her hands are shaking and her shoulders are trembling. She feels awful and responsible for this. By the time she is done, her hands are covered in green blood. "The cut on your shin is messy, but I don't think you're at risk for infection. If we can be found quick enough—"

"It is not necessary, my body will heal itself without the aid."

"Oh good," Jim mutters as she continues to avoid his eyes. Her gut is churning painfully and her shoulders are still trembling.

"Jim—"

"I'm going to go outside and look around," Jim chokes and quickly stumbles to her feet. She flees before he can try and stop her and she moves as far as she can before she has to stop and throw up. Tears burn her eyes as her throat begins to feel raw and sore. She swipes the back of her hand against her mouth and tries to calm down. The brunt of the situation is really getting to her. Spock's own people tried to kill him and if she hadn't been there—maybe they would have succeeded and she—she—she wouldn't have known.

There will be fucking hell to pay for that one.

Jim shudders and closes her eyes against the glare of the sunlight. She exhales carefully as she tries to pull herself together. When she stands, she realizes that her holster is gone—washed away in the tide of the whirlpool. She grits her teeth and quickly sets her shoulder right as she yelps in shocked pain. She flexes the fingers of her left hand stiffly as the blood flow returns and she wipes her long wet bangs out of her eyes. She looks around, narrowing her eyes against the glare of the sun as she tries to identify anything of use.

There's nothing.

Jim has no idea where they are exactly, but she hopes they can be found just as easily. She hobbles back to the cave and plops down beside a fatigued Spock. "I didn't see anything," she says as she looks at his waist and notes that he's without his holster as well. Hopefully they wouldn't need their phasers, but it's not clear if Sefor or Kovar will come searching for them to make sure the job is done. She tries not to think about it, and remains optimistic. "How are you holding up?"

"The pain is tolerable," Spock rasps as his lids lower, and its clear that is most certainly is not. "Though I find I may be going into a healing trance. It is not the suitable time nor the place."

"I won't mind if you do," Jim reassures with a weak smile. "Anything that will help you get better is fine with me."

"I would rather do so when I know that we are safe," Spock clarifies, but his eyelids lower a fraction more.

"We're safe in a way, I think," Jim swears. "Stop fighting it if you're just doing it because you're worried about me. I'm okay—you're the one that isn't. Just let nature take its course. You know, I'll just keep fussing at you until you give in."

"I do not doubt that," Spock remarks dryly. "Jim—if you do remain within distance, you will find me most appreciative."

"I'll be here. Even when you wake up," Jim promises and touches his shoulder. "Rest."

Spock's eyes close fully and he goes still.

Jim carefully rearranges him so he's lying more comfortably in the sand. She puts his head in her lap as she props herself against the boulder instead. She leans her head back against the boulder and closes her eyes in an attempt to lower her anxiety.

She hopes they are found very soon.

She has some asses to kick.

---

Author's Note: So…? What did you think?