Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its characters.
Previously: Jim cocked his head to the side and sneered. "Did I turn you down or something? Leave without calling?"
The woman laughed. "Well isn't that rich? Of course that's the first place your mind would go, Jimmy. It fits, you know. Even your First Officer thinks you're a whore."
Okay, that stung. Jim bit back the hurt and slid into his well-practiced, cocky demeanor. "I like to think of it as being charming," he said with a grin.
"As I recall, you were quite charming back on Tarsus."
Jim's stomach dropped. Tarsus. Memories started racing through his head like a fucked-up highlight reel. "You… you can't know that. No one knows that," he said softly. "The only one that knows is dead."
The woman stared at him with a ghost of a smile on her face. "Dev died, that's true." At the mention of his name, Jim felt his hair stand on end. "My father made sure of that. But Dev's not the only one that knew. And I didn't need to scramble your brain to find out, either. I was there, Jim. I was the one that found the two of you. I was the one that let my father know you were still alive, you treasonous little bitch."
"Lenore…" Jim breathed, finally recognizing the woman for who she was. Governor Kodos' only child. He recalled seeing the little blonde girl playing in the palace. At the time, he remembered thinking how odd it was that Kodos could be so tender with her, yet order the genocide of thousands. Lenore, along with her father, had been presumed dead by Starfleet.
The woman slowly, sarcastically clapped her hands. "Well done, Captain. Finally."
Jim approached the glass partition. "Where's your father?" he asked, struggling to control his tone. Lenore didn't answer him. She looked younger up close, Jim noted. "Lenore," he said, clearing his throat, "listen to me. All of this, that you've done – if he's making you do this, we can help you. He is the one the Federation wants, not you, and if you help us –"
"You haven't changed a damn bit since Tarsus," Lenore marveled. "Well," she smirked, "you've put on some weight." Jim blanched. "You're the same manipulative little shit. I remember how you were, back there. Taking food, stealing state secrets, and seducing one of our best guards to do it."
"Seducing? Is that what you'd call it?" Jim clenched his jaw. "You said you saw me and Dev. You saw what he did to me," Jim said flatly.
"You fucking deserved it," she spat.
Jim stared at her. "No one deserves that."
"Don't give me that shit," Lenore scoffed. "You knew exactly what you were doing."
"I was fifteen years old," Jim growled. "I didn't know the first fucking thing about what I was doing, but I'll tell you what, I learned pretty damn quickly." Anger flickered in Jim's eyes. "And I don't regret it. I used everything I had to keep those kids alive as long as I could, and to take down your bastard of a father."
"Yes, you sure did use everything, didn't you?" Lenore was smug. "I hear you took those skills with you to Starfleet – you earned quite a reputation. There are things they just don't teach you in the Academy, huh, Jimmy?"
Bones tiptoed down yet another darkened corridor, keeping Uhura in his sights. He hated away missions, but this one seemed especially strange. Upon exiting their cell, it quickly became apparent that they were in an abandoned medical facility. By the heft and size of most of the doors, the facility appeared to have been designed for humans, with only a few specialized areas, their cell included, built to accommodate different species. Bones was grateful for this small measure of familiarity, and did not hesitate to grab an out-of-date tricorder from a medical supply closet.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nyota watched as McCoy scanned himself with the tricorder. "Find anything?"
"Traces of anesthizine and kayolane. Both standard sedatives, so at least they dosed us with normal shit."
Nyota nodded. "Leonard," she said softly, "do you find it odd that we're the only ones here?"
McCoy grunted his agreement. "Yeah, it's like the whole place is abandoned." McCoy gladly followed Uhura's lead as she took them around the facility.
"Shhh!" Nyota said suddenly. "Do you hear that?"
McCoy held his breath, straining to pick up on any noises that might be nearby. Faintly, he heard voices.
"Follow my lead," Uhura said, setting the phaser to stun. McCoy felt naked without a weapon and stuck close to Uhura, constantly scanning the areas they'd just passed through for any signs of life. Usually, McCoy felt at home within the maze of a hospital. He took comfort in the fact that there was always an open room to duck into, to catch a breath before the pressure built up. In this dark, abandoned space, however, each new hall seemed eerie and dangerous.
Nyota felt her heart beating faster as the voices got closer. Drawing a shaky breath, and then a steadier one, she raised her weapon and rounded a blind corner, sweeping the area for enemies. McCoy squinted down the corridor, trying to get a better idea of where the voices were coming from. "It looks like a security station," he whispered to Uhura. "I see screens – must be where they keep tabs on us."
They approached the room cautiously. To Nyota's surprise, it was empty. McCoy quickly surveyed the space. His eyes were drawn to a bank of phasers, and he grabbed one, tucking it securely into the back of his trousers. "Now where do we- "
"It's Jim," Nyota interrupted, gesturing toward one of the screens. McCoy whirled around to face the screen. Jim actually looked pretty good, McCoy thought with relief. He was standing on his own, and yelling something at a wall. "There must be someone else behind that wall," Uhura said.
"Let's hope," added McCoy, increasing the audio. He could hear a woman's voice, but she wasn't visible on screen. "You think that's Blondie?"
Nyota shut her eyes in concentration. "Could be. It sounds like her." On screen, Jim began to speak.
Lenore, listen to me.
"Lenore?" McCoy repeated. "That name mean anything to you?"
Nyota frowned. "No."
All of this, that you've done – if he's making you do this, we can help you. He is the one the Federation wants, not you, and if you help us –
The woman's voice cut Jim off.
You haven't changed a damn bit since Tarsus.
Tarsus, Tarsus, where the hell did McCoy know that name from?
Oh… Shit.
Wide-eyed, McCoy's gaze met Uhura's. She had evidently recognized the name before Leonard had, and was already clapping a hand to her mouth in disbelief. McCoy didn't say anything, not at first. He strained to hear more of the woman's words, praying she had misspoken.
You're the same manipulative little shit. I remember how you were, back there. Taking food, stealing state secrets, and seducing one of our best guards to do it.
"Come on, Jim," McCoy muttered, not realizing he was speaking out loud. "Tell her she's got the wrong guy, tell her it's a mistake..."
But even through a grainy security feed, McCoy could read Jim. And nothing about his posture was saying mistake. McCoy watched as Jim slowly raised his head and looked toward the unseen woman.
Seducing? Is that what you'd call it? You said you saw me and Dev. You saw what he did to me.
Nyota sat down shakily at the security console. "Leonard, you don't think…"
"It fits," McCoy finally said, more to himself than Uhura. "He's the right age, there were kids there that escaped, his Starfleet file has crazy security on it, his body's littered with weird-ass scars and his bone scans show anomalies consistent with unhealthy weight fluctuation." Without warning, he slammed his open palm onto the console. "Fuck." McCoy raked a hand through his hair. He leveled his gaze at Uhura. "I'm going after him."
"Okay Leonard, okay," Nyota said, trying to calm him. "You better be damn careful though. I know how you get, guns blazing, especially where Jim's concerned. And we still don't know shit about this place," her eyes scanned the row of monitors, "and I don't see Spock anywhere on screen."
McCoy looked around the room and picked up two small electronic devices.
"What are these?" Uhura asked.
"Digi-pagers… pretty obsolete technology, but some of the older medical centers still use them for communication." He handed one to her. "Clip it to your clothes – if we need to get in touch with each other, we'll use these."
Nyota looked over the small device and clipped it to the neckline of her dress. "While you look for Jim, I'm going to try to find Spock. I have no idea where the hell he went. At the very least, there must be a map here. Maybe I can even find our communicators."
Bones nodded. "Okay. Remember, we use the digi-pagers if anything happens." McCoy withdrew his phaser and set it to stun. Leaving the room, he looked once more at Uhura. "Good luck," he said.
"Spock! It's you!"
Spock barreled forward into the dark room, not pausing to wonder how the child knew his name. "Are you alright? What has occurred?" He eyed the young Vulcan in front of him. The boy could not be more than 12 or 13; he appeared to be dirty and underfed, with solid-looking manacles encasing his wrists.
The young Vulcan looked up at Spock in something resembling wonder. Spock was somewhat taken aback by such a naked display of emotion from the youth and willed himself to be patient as the boy responded. The young man's eyes darted left and right, yet he stayed silent.
Spock came closer, his right arm raised. "I know this is difficult. If you wish, I will meld with you in order to –"
"NO!" The young man screamed, startling Spock. The boy, realizing his emotional lapse, bit his lip hard, forcing himself to calm down. "Please do not tell anyone what I am like, how you found me."
Something in Spock softened. Even in the face of captivity, the boy was concerned about maintaining a stoic front. "What is your name?" he asked gently.
"I am Spretnol, of the house of T'Pru," the young man answered, "and I beg you, Spock, do not meld with me." The boy looked away, his chest heaving and, to Spock's shock, tears began streaming down his face. "I've done a terrible thing."
Spock looked the boy over uneasily. His behavior was highly out of character for a Vulcan of his age. Tears, agitation... Spock wondered what, exactly, the boy had been through.
"I didn't even know you were here, not for sure," Spretnol mused, "but I thought you might be. What finally made you come? Was it Kolinahr?"
Precious few beings outside of New Vulcan knew of the ancient ritual of Kolinahr. Spock nodded tightly. "Yes. It was the mention of Kolinahr from our captors that made me suspicious. The Captain, being human, would have no knowledge of this ritual. I knew it must have come from some other source."
"I meant it as a message to you. I emphasized it, hoping that they would mention it to you."
Spock scrutinized the boy. Though he was acting unusually, Spock did not consider him to be threatening. "I give you my word that I will not initiate a meld with you without your permission. But allow me to ascertain the extent of your injuries and, as I do so, please explain how you came to be here."
Spretnol nodded toward Spock, who quickly went into action feeling for injuries. "I don't know where to begin."
"It is logical to begin at the beginning."
"Very well," the young man finally said. "But I will begin at the end. The end of Vulcan." Spock tensed involuntarily, and was grateful that the boy did not seem to notice. "I was off-world with my mother, a physicist. When the planet was destroyed, so was her bond with my father. She… did not take it well. She fell ill, and I was forced to venture out on my own to find help for her." The young man hung his head. "I was foolish and desperate. We were at a large outpost, and a human woman approached me, offering her assistance." The boy swallowed hard. "It had been so long since I had obtained suitable nourishment, and the woman said she had plomeek soup." The boy shook his head in embarrassment. "With the first taste, I knew I had been deceived. The soup was quite obviously drugged. I was sedated and, when I woke up, I was in the hold of a ship, bound." Spock had stopped his examination and was sitting close to the boy, listening as he recounted his experiences.
"What became of your mother?" Spock asked.
The youth shook his head. "I do not know where she is. I believe she is alive. Our bond, though very weak, is intact."
Spock eyed the boy. "You are underweight. Do they give you food?"
Spretnol nodded. "My captors, the man and the woman, used to give me food regularly. Since they kidnapped the Captain and I began to be... resistant, however, the food has stopped."
At the mention of Jim, Spock's eyes narrowed. "What do you know of the Captain?"
The boy's shoulders suddenly slumped. "Too much. Far too much." He was quiet for a moment, clearly composing himself. "After years of being treated like an animal, I had resigned myself to my fate. I would retreat into meditation, into logic. Then, recently, the woman came to me. She said she had an important job for me. I believe she expected my compliance, and she was taken aback when I refused her. She is not used to being refused," the boy murmured. "She began to threaten me, saying that she would cut off my hands if I did not do what she asked of me. I felt…fear, but still I resisted. Finally, to prove how serious she was about the matter, she ordered her assistant to remove the smallest toe from my left foot."
"Remove your toe? Why did you not report this immediately?" Spock demanded, making a motion to check the boy's foot.
"Compared to the damage I have inflicted, to your Captain and to myself, it feels inconsequential. She should have taken my hands," the boy said bitterly.
"Please," Spock implored, aware of the note of desperation in his own voice. "What has happened to the Captain?"
"They made me meld with him."
Spock froze.
With difficulty, the young Vulcan continued. "They made me... absolutely pillage his mind, go to every dark place he has taken great care to conceal, and in the process –" Spretnol stopped, clearly overcome by emotion. He looked at Spock. "I've not had the training. You know what that means."
Spock did know. Vulcans received years of intense instruction prior to being permitted to meld with others of the species, let alone other beings. To meld without training was dangerous, even fatal in Vulcans, and was strictly prosecuted. Interspecies melding, even by trained individuals, carried risks, and here was a boy of not 13 being forced into a deep, unwilling meld with Jim, a human. "Have you shown signs of the Pa'nar Syndrome?" Spock asked.
The question hung heavy in the dark room. "Do you not think my displays of emotion strange? I could not handle the emotional transference, and I am haunted by his memories." The boy looked down in shame. "Of course the Pa'nar Syndrome is present. How could it not be?"
In one furious motion, Spock snapped the boy's manacles from the wall and hoisted him into his arms.
The boy gaped at him. "How did you-?"
"Lead me to the Captain. We must leave for New Vulcan at once."
I'm in trouble, Jim thought. He'd been in situations like this before, but they were seldom so personal. Jim had learned to develop snappy comebacks to obvious insults, to build up his defenses. Tarsus, however, had stayed locked away for a long time. And, he hated to admit it, but his control was slipping. It's not like he'd ever had Spock-like powers, but whatever the woman had done to him was making it hard to focus, and hard to self-censor. He had to find out exactly what she'd done to him, and why.
"You and Kodos were off the map," Jim stated. "You could have disappeared forever; Starfleet would have left you alone. Why kidnap me and my crewmembers? Why drug me and do," he shook his head, "whatever the hell you did to me?"
She grew quiet and tense. "Dev was one of my father's favorite guards. He was smart and ruthless. But then you came along and messed him all up. When I first told my father what I saw, he thought I was lying. He had no idea you were still alive. It took a DNA analysis to convince him."
"DNA?" Jim asked.
"Yes, Jim," the woman said. "Trust me, you and Dev left plenty of evidence behind. My father didn't want to kill Dev, but he couldn't let such a betrayal stand. You were on the list, Jim, and there you were, in the goddamn Governor's Palace, fucking one of our best guards!" Lenore shook her head. "That would have been bad enough, but then I followed the two of you. You must be one hell of a lay - he gave you five whole rations."
Jim remembered. Five rations for six kids. For two weeks.
"But that wasn't enough, was it?" Lenore continued. "I watched Dev leave, but you stuck around, snuck into my father's offices." She narrowed her eyes. "I was young then, a child, but for the past 15 years, I've wished that I'd sounded an alarm right then, that I'd killed you before you stole the files."
Lenore took a deep breath. "I told my father what I'd seen – everything. Dev denied everything, until the DNA test came back. He confessed after that, and was publicly executed – an example made. And the manhunt was on for you. We torched the whole damn forest." The woman shook her head. "You were supposed to be dead."
"I'm well aware," Jim said drily.
"My father wasn't an idiot. He'd known that a couple people on the list had escaped and survived, but after your little fuck-fest with Dev, you were the only one he worried about. You were a threat - you went beyond food stealing and took all those classified files, the ones that unfairly branded him a mass-murderer."
Jim couldn't stay silent. "He was worse than that. What he did was genocide."
"He was just trying to save some people!" Lenore responded, eyes flashing with anger.
"He should have been trying to save everyone!" Jim yelled angrily, slamming his hand against the glass partition.
Lenore simply watched him, letting him calm down. "As you can probably tell, my father and I did not really die on Tarsus. As soon as we found out that Starfleet was on the way, we planted the bones and left the planet. You made us fugitives, Jim, and for that I have hated you. You can't imagine what it was like, always on the move, never letting anyone get close to us. My father grew paranoid, always afraid that people were on to him, that he'd be discovered." Lenore frowned. "It was a few years before we found out you survived. Starfleet must have done one hell of a cover-up job, huh?"
Jim nodded. "It was classified. I wasn't allowed to discuss it." And I didn't want to, Jim added silently.
"You know what's not classified, though, Jim?" She smirked. "Arrest records. That's how we found out you were still kicking. My father was alarmed, but he was at least content in the knowledge that you seemed hell-bent on pissing your life away. If you were wasted or in jail, you couldn't very well come after him, could you?"
Jim bit his lip. Those had been bad years. After he'd been released from the hospital back to his mother's custody in Iowa, he just kind of... gave up. Now that he was Captain, with all his myriad responsibilities, it was hard to reconcile his current life with the one he'd led in his late teens.
Lenore wasn't done. "Then the unthinkable happened – goddamn Christopher Pike and his hero complex – looks like he ended up getting what was coming to him, though, didn't he?" She winked at Jim, who glared back at her angrily. "You were at the Academy three years – worrisome, but not an immediate threat."
The woman took a deep, shaky breath. "And then the Narada happened and my father saw YOUR face staring back at him from every goddamn media source in the galaxy. The youngest starship captain in history! We were on a shitty backwater system when the story broke. They were primitive there. There was nothing they could do for him when he had the heart attack."
"He died there," Jim said. It wasn't a question. Despite his current situation, he felt an odd sensation of relief.
Lenore's voice trembled. "Before he died, he begged me to stop keeping tabs on you. He even gave me money to get DNA cloaking and a new identity."
"You should have taken his advice."
"I wanted revenge on you for killing him and destroying our lives," Lenore said angrily. "I've spent every day planning for this since my father died, and I must say, it's even more satisfying than I had imagined."
"Killing me won't bring him back," Jim whispered.
"No," the woman said softly, almost sincerely. Her lips curled into a smile. "But it will make me the happiest woman in the galaxy."
"You're crazy," Jim said.
"Don't talk to me about crazy," the woman hissed. "You never told a goddamn soul what you did on Tarsus."
"That's not true," Jim said.
"I'm not talking about stealing food and files, Jimmy."
Ugh, that nickname again. "No one needed to know how I did it."
"That was awfully forward-thinking of you, in terms of future employment options." She smiled at Jim. "Well, who knows - it may have actually been a plus among the Iowa bar crowd, but I don't think the Starfleet brass would have been too happy knowing that their golden boy Captain was a 15 year old whore. I can't see them even letting you into the Academy with something like that on your record. How the hell did you pass the psych eval? And your friends - what would they think?"
Jim could feel the now-familiar pressure building in his head.
"Your First Officer probably wouldn't be surprised," Lenore taunted. "He's a clever one - I think he's got you figured out, actually. Probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, Jimmy, trying to seduce a Vulcan."
"Fuck..." Jim muttered. It was getting hard to focus, and the pain in his head had returned with a vengeance.
"And your friend the doctor? He's been wondering for years how you got all those nasty scars on your back, and why the hell they weren't derma treated. I could fill in the blanks, you know. Tell him Dev was a biter," she winked. "How do you think he'd look at you then?"
"I'd look at him like he was the best Captain in the whole goddamn fleet, honey."
Even through his mental haze, Jim would recognize that twang anywhere. The woman whirled around in surprise and came face-to-face with the business end of a phaser.
Bones approached her, his face twisted in anger. "Oh yeah, I've been listening. And every last part of me wants to put a phaser blast through your goddamn chest." Bones put additional pressure on the trigger for emphasis. "But I need you to tell me exactly what you did to him, and how to fix it. And then your ass is going to be put on trial and shipped to the shittiest Federation prison I can find."
From the other side of the glass partition, Jim watched as Lenore reached into her tunic pocket.
"Don't you move!" Bones yelled, keeping his phaser at the ready.
Without even withdrawing her hand, Lenore gripped her phaser and fired it directly into her gut.
Hope you all enjoyed the extra-long update! There is more to come. - AE
