Time is the Fire, chapter 3
His elbows on his knees, Spock sat on the bunk and watched Kirk pace. The captain would walk to the front of the brig and peer through the forcefield, then stalk to the back and run his fingers over the panels. Then, he'd work his way along the side until he had reached the front, and start the entire process all over again. McCoy, on the other hand, sat on the other bunk and never ceased complaining, his voice going on and on as he filled the air with his pithy observations...
Spock interlaced his fingers, clutching his hands together so tightly they began to ache. Perhaps that was desirable, however, for he could concentrate on the pain and shut out everything else.
Sybok...
After so many years, Spock had come face-to-face with his brother, the brother who had been dead to him since he was a child. He had loved Sybok with the open intensity only a child could feel, and when Sybok had been sent away, Spock's undisciplined mind had wondered if maybe it was actually his, Spock's, fault. After all, Sarek had told him time and time again that one should respect one's elder sibling. Outright adoration, however, was not allowed. And as Sybok's beliefs had deviated more and more from the accepted norm, the conflict between Sarek and Sybok had grown. Spock had been caught in the middle, a child forced to choose between his father and the brother who had magically swept into his lonely life. Sarek and Sybok had clashed, their arguments loud and undisguised, until the day had finally come when Sarek banished Sybok forever.
Sarek had been satisfied that Sybok's unhealthy influence was vanquished from their household and that Spock's training would continue unaffected. It was ironic, therefore, that Spock had actually learned something even Sarek could not foresee, for when the time came for Spock's own rebellion, he did not do it openly as he had witnessed with his brother. No, he did it calmly and logically, and in the end Sarek had been helpless to resist his will.
Kirk swept past, so close that the breeze ruffled Spock's hair, and McCoy raised his voice a notch.
Closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, Spock thought of Nyota. Why did she not say yes? He longed to bond with her, the need so tangible that it was a physical pain. He had been parted from her for so many years. What would he do if he were to be parted from her again? Her warm smile, her musical laugh... Her lush body and her passionate ways...
Abruptly aware of an unwanted physical response to these thoughts, he shifted uncomfortably. His reaction was entirely inappropriate. How could he allow himself to become aroused here in the brig, under such circumstances? Matters were much too critical to indulge his random musings. Perhaps he should watch Kirk pace.
When he looked up, the captain scowled at him, obviously still angry. Spock sighed. Kirk could hardly be blamed, for Spock had betrayed him. The fact that Sybok was Spock's brother might explain his defiance earlier, but it did not excuse it. Spock looked down again, unable to bear the accusation in Kirk's eyes.
"Spock."
He looked up to find Kirk standing directly before him. "Yes, Captain," he said listlessly.
"If we're going to be stuck in this brig together, we might as well try to accomplish something."
Spock stood warily. Was this forgiveness or a further punishment? Kirk's words had been ambiguous, and he could not tell if his friend was still angry.
Motioning him over to the center of the brig, Kirk looked up. "I want to get into the ceiling. Help me up."
Spock nodded, pleased to be able to offer his assistance. He knew for a fact that Kirk's efforts would be useless—Spock, himself, had been the one to test the new brig—but that was beside the point. Perhaps it was illogical to waste one's energy on a futile effort, but he would do whatever it took to prove that he was Kirk's ally again, and he would do it gladly.
...
Uhura hurried toward sickbay. Poor Scotty! Nurse Estes had said that it was only a concussion and he should be fine, but Uhura thought that someone should be with him when he woke. After all, Sybok had not yet explained things to him, and he might be confused. He would need someone who understood to help him until he understood, too.
Despite her concern over her old friend's health, she walked with a light step. The universe was wondrous, full of mysteries just ready to be explored. Sybok, in his infinite wisdom, had taken them by the hand to lead them to a new, amazing place. She smiled and shook her head, remembering how she had resisted him before, how she had mistrusted him and been suspicious of his intentions. He had opened her eyes, and although she had once been blind, she now could see.
She frowned, the tiniest feeling of guilt creeping into the back of her mind. Supposedly, Captain Kirk, Spock, and Dr. McCoy had all escaped from the brig and were at large someplace on the ship. They didn't want to help Sybok and probably didn't approve of the fact that she was helping him. She pushed away the guilt, however, thinking of Sybok's glorious intentions. How could anyone refuse to help such a man? The captain, Spock, and Dr. McCoy obviously just didn't understand. She had noticed that Sybok was particularly disappointed in Spock. Poor Spock—he was woefully misled by his preconceived beliefs.
The sickbay door opened before her, and she hurried over to sit on the side of Scotty's bed. He was still out cold, and she felt her heart swell with love as she studied his dear, lined face. Reaching up to smooth his hair, she smiled when she noticed how gray he had become. Her kind friend, her old companion—a man who never wanted anything more from her than a gentle smile or a kind word.
The med tech held a small instrument over Scotty's head, and a moment later, he stirred. She patted him on the arm to reassure him.
"Easy, Scotty, easy. You're back with us."
"I had the strangest dream, Uhura," he mumbled. "I dreamt that a madman had taken over the Enterprise."
"Scotty, dear. He's not a madman."
"He's not?"
Suddenly, she felt safe. Gazing into his benevolent eyes, she knew that he had always cared for her—maybe even loved her—and she was nearly overcome with the warm emotions that surged through her entire body, seeming to course through her veins as naturally as blood. This fun-loving, intelligent man... fallible and all too human, growing gray with his years of wisdom and experience, watching his years of service slowly wind to a close... He meant so much to her, and before she had even given it a second thought, she decided that he could mean so much more.
Brushing her fingers against his cheek, she said, "Sybok has simply put us in touch with feelings that we've always been afraid to express."
"I have to get back to the transporter."
He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down on the bed. "No, no, Scotty. Scotty, there's so much I want to tell you."
"Maybe you could wait until I'm a wee bit stronger. I don't think I could take it in my present condition." He touched her face, his rough, callused fingers gentle as he caressed her flesh. "Or yours."
She smoothed his wiry gray hair, and then drew back and allowed him to stand. He hurried toward the door, but he turned and met her eyes briefly one last time before leaving. She smiled with understanding. Of course his duty must always come first, and that was all right. She wouldn't expect anything less from a dedicated man like Scotty.
Oh, how could she not have known?
She loved Scotty, and she wanted nothing more than to explore these wonderful new emotions. It was time to leave, however. She had been gone too long, and Sybok might need her.
...
Hoping he could make it to the bridge before their unknown assailant fired again, Spock ran from the transporter room. Injured crewmen littered the corridors, but he could not stop to assist them. If he did not reach the bridge soon, their injuries would be moot.
So much had happened in such a short time. What would happen next? They had reached Sha Ka Ree, the mystical, mythical destination toward which Sybok had yearned his entire life. Spock had even begun to think that perhaps Sybok was right, that Sha Ka Ree really did exist, but it was all too evident now that Sybok had been wrong. His brother had brainwashed the hostages, destroyed a shuttlecraft, hijacked a starship, and endangered everyone's lives... all for an illusion. A deceit, a fallacy. In the end, Sybok had rushed into a fiery hell, attempting to save Spock and all Spock held dear, but his sacrifice might very well be in vain if Spock, himself, could not find a way to extricate them from this nightmare.
He entered the lift, McCoy at his elbow.
"Bridge."
It was difficult to believe. Had he had truly witnessed Sybok's death? His brother, gone for so long—gone for all eternity, now? And what was happening to Kirk? The captain was stranded on the planet, left behind when Spock and McCoy beamed up. The malevolent entity into whose hands Sybok had delivered them was bloodthirsty and enraged at having been denied its opportunity for escape. Kirk must be rescued from the planet soon, but first Spock had to determine who had fired on them and why.
McCoy dogged his heels as he stepped onto the bridge. "What about Jim? We can't just leave him down there."
The air was filled with smoke, and Spock's eyes watered as he walked to the center of the bridge. "Please get a grip on yourself, Doctor. Status report."
Uhura spoke over the surrounding mayhem. "Klingon captain wishes to name his terms, Mr. Spock."
Nyota. His respiration quickened at the sound of her voice, but he wrenched himself back to the task at hand.
He curled his fingers into a fist. "On screen."
His mind raced while he listened to the Klingon commander's brash threats. Fascinating. The Klingons claimed not to care about the Enterprise. Raising his chin as the young man demanded he turn over Captain Kirk, he considered how this information changed the parameters of their situation.
He pretended to cooperate. "Captain Kirk is not among us."
"You lie."
"I am a Vulcan. I am incapable of lying. Captain Kirk is on the planet below."
"Then give me his coordinates!"
Spock paused. Obviously, the young commander was not acting on official orders, for the Klingons would never dare target a specific member of Starfleet. Therefore, either the Klingon commander was acting on covert orders, or he was working without orders at all. If Spock could learn which of those was the case, he could then determine a course of action.
He looked over at Korrd, who stood at the side of the bridge. Although the ambassador had evidently fallen out of favor, there was no denying that his career had been extraordinary. As Kirk had said just days ago, Korrd's exploits were required reading at the Academy. If Starfleet cadets held Korrd in near-reverent regard, what would a young, ambitious Klingon think of him?
Moving close to Korrd, Spock lowered his voice. "I am in need of your assistance."
"My assistance."
"You are his superior officer."
"I am a foolish old man," Korrd said bitterly.
Suddenly, Spock felt his barely held control dissipate, crackling as if caught in flames, blown away as easily as ashes in the wind. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and their one chance at survival hinged on this pitiful old man and his indulgent self-contempt.
Refusing to allow the weakness of another to thwart him, Spock hissed, "Damn you, sir. You will try."
Korrd took a step back at the open fury on Spock's face, but finally nodded and squared his shoulders. Watching him move to the center of the bridge, Spock worked his fist, still uncertain that he had secured Korrd's cooperation.
Just as the old Klingon began to speak, a medical scanner whirred softly. Spock spun to find that McCoy stood behind him, an expression of appraisal on his face.
His voice steely, he said, "This is neither the time nor the place, McCoy."
"You took a pretty bad blow down on that planet, and it just occurred to me that I never checked you out."
"I am needed elsewhere."
Spock tried to walk away, but McCoy grabbed his arm. "Wait just a damn minute."
Turning slowly, Spock stared at the fingers that dared touch his body. "Release me."
"Spock."
"If you know what is good for you, Doctor, you will release me."
McCoy glared at him for a moment, but finally let go. "Do I need to remove you from duty?"
Closing his eyes, Spock whispered, "No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Spock fixed his gaze on a point in the distance. "As you have noticed, I am able to function. I merely allowed myself to grow... distressed. The moment has passed."
McCoy did not reply at first, but finally he exhaled. "All right. But I'm keeping an eye on you."
"I understand." Spock nodded, grateful that McCoy had evidently decided to drop the matter, at least temporarily.
Returning his attention to the discussion between Korrd and the Klingon commander, Spock clasped his hands behind his back and stood tall. He must make every effort to appear calm, even if he did not actually feel that way inside.
End chapter 3
