T'ARAMU by Sue Newlands

CHAPTER NINE – FEI

'How many?' Kirk asked, in absolute disbelief.

'Thirty four, sir,' Uhura repeated. She then clamped her teeth firmly together to stop herself from giggling.

'Is Doran out of his mind?' Kirk demanded of the bridge crew in general. 'Has he gone completely mad?' Sulu and his fellow navigator kept their gazes firmly fixed on the screen. Sulu's mouth was twitching. No-one attempted an answer. Even Spock seemed to realise the questions were rhetorical.

'What, in the name of heaven,' Kirk said, in tones of utter exasperation, 'does Doran expect us to do with thirty four children?'

'As I understand it, sir,' Spock said politely, 'he expects us to take them to Gamma Helion.'

'Fine,' Kirk said. 'Wonderful. I'm running a nursery now, am I?'

'They will have supervisors with them, sir,' Uhura offered.

'And the estimated flight time is only a week,' Spock added his mite of comfort.

Kirk did not look particularly mollified.

'A week,' he said, 'is more than long enough for thirty four children to get into mischief of one kind or another. A week is also long enough for half my female crew to discover unsatisfied urges for motherhood. What's the betting we'll have a dozen pregnancies in the next couple of months?' He threw himself into the captain's chair, frowning.

His outburst may have seemed comic to his crew, but Kirk was, in fact, seriously displeased by Doran's announcement of their latest mission. The children were presently stranded on Melian, their transport ship having suffered an asteroid collision on its way to pick them up. Unfortunately, the 'Enterprise' was close enough to be given the job instead.

Kirk was fond enough of children as individuals and regretted he had not been permitted to be part of his own son's life. But children en masse were revolting. They got into places they were not supposed to, became remarkably dirty remarkably quickly and seemed generally possessed of boundless energy which was channelled into one aim only – that of driving adults into insanity.

There was, as always, an added complication. The group of youngsters Kirk was now expected to ferry to Gamma Helion were what Star Fleet termed 'Alphas' – that is, their I.Q.'s had been measured into the two hundreds and in most cases it was suspected that it was much higher, and simply not quantifiable by their present methods. Gamma Helion's main claim to fame was that it contained the most advanced school in the galaxy. The men and women who had elected to teach there had all, at one time or another, been accorded the title 'genius'. Admittedly, this was a term bandied about too loosely these days but Kirk knew of and had met some of these teachers, and in his opinion it was deserved in all cases.

He sighed.

'How old are these children, Uhura?' he asked, in tones of resignation.

'The eldest is sixteen, sir, and the youngest five.'

'I suppose it could be worse,' Kirk said, in the kind of voice that means, but not by much. 'Arrange quarters for them please – as far away from the working areas of the ship as possible – and ask the galley to stock up on hot dogs and jelly.'

Spock had come to stand behind Kirk's chair.

'Jim,' he said, with only the faintest undercurrent of amusement in his voice, 'these are not ordinary children. I anticipate no problems.'

Which only went to prove, as Sally was to say gleefully later, that Spock of Vulcan was not only a master of understatement – he was sometimes also just plain wrong.

'I like children,' Sally said, a little breathlessly because she had just completed thirty press-ups.

'Probably because you have never grown up yourself,' Kirk said, regarding her with tolerant affection.

'Good point.' Using his knee as a lever, Sally swung herself to her feet and began to touch her toes. Kirk had interrupted her during a break between shifts, which she generally used as an exercise period these days, trying to beat her muscles back into the submissive shape they had been in before her long disappearance. Judging by the speed with which she was completing each exercise, she was succeeding admirably.

Kirk leaned back into the cosy depths of Sally's armchair and savoured the sight of his hostess's trim body as it flexed and swayed and stretched through its routine. She looked vaguely ridiculous; she was wearing one of her tiny peacock-green leotards but her hair was swept into an Edwardian topknot and studded with flowers and feathers. Having a liking for twentieth-century musicals, Sally had recently unearthed 'The Matchmaker' from the archives. Loudly and persistently declaring, 'I was born to play Dolly Levi', she had cajoled, bullied and persuaded the ship's company to put on a performance; later on that day, she was attending the first dress rehearsal. Kirk, who was fairly tone deaf, was nonetheless looking forward to the performance, if only for the fact that Sally had persuaded McCoy to take the part of Horace Vandergelder ('I can't sing, Sally.' 'You don't have to, Bones, that's the beauty of it.')

'Considering,' Sally went on, with her head approximately level with her knees, 'that I'm very nearly twenty-five years old, you'd think I'd have managed to acquire some adult behaviour patterns. Do you think people every really believe they've grown up?'

'I know what you mean,' Kirk said. 'There are times when I catch sight of myself in a mirror, and I get a shock. I can't believe that old man is me. I see the lines on my face, the grey hairs – just a few,' he added hastily, since Sally was showing signs of trying to closely examine his hairline, 'and I think, 'That can't be me.' I don't remember growing up. Inside, I still feel sixteen.'

'Hmmm, frightening thought,' Sally said, rolling out of a handstand with a flourish, and coming to rest sprawled at his feet. 'The most powerful starship in the fleet – in the hands of a teenager.'

She was grinning at him, and the fine lines at the corner of her eyes were laughing.

'Since you like children so much, you can be ship's liaison and supervise their entertainment while they're here. I want their every waking minute occupied. I want them kept out of the crew's way. Can you handle it?'

'Free hand?' Sally asked.

'Yes,' Kirk said firmly, choosing to ignore the light of mischief in her eyes.

'You're on, Cap'n Jim. And I'm going to enjoy myself.'

Kirk did not feel bound to attend in the transporter room when his young passengers were beamed aboard from Melian two days later. He sent Sally instead and, giving way to a wicked impulse without overmuch pause, Spock.

Sally was under strict orders to stay with the party whatever happened, so Kirk was not expecting to see her again that day. However, after two hours had gone by and Spock did not re-appear. Kirk began to feel faintly surprised.

He knew that Spock, despite well-feigned indifference, was extremely fond of children – and they of him. They seemed to see past the icy Vulcan front he presented to his peers to the understanding and compassionate human underneath. Still, it was unlike Spock to allow himself to be seen in such an open role for long.

-Sally? What goes on?-

He had to repeat the question three times before the link sprang into its usual ebullient life.

-Hey, Jim. You ought to get yourself down here. You'll have to see it to believe it-

-Don't be so bloody mysterious, woman. What's happening?-

-Honestly, this you need to see for yourself-

Kirk very much doubted that anything a child got up to, even if it was a prodigy, would amaze him very much. But there had been an undercurrent of some indefinable emotion in Sally's link-voice which had interested him in spite of himself. So he gave Sulu the conn and went on down to the guest deck.

The first thing that struck him as he got out of the elevator was the silence. Almost without realising it, he had been bracing himself for an upsurge of loud, excited voices.

Wrong again, Kirk, he thought wryly, and made his way to the large rec room set aside for the children's use. The door had been left open and Kirk waited there for a moment or two, taking in the scene before him.

He saw Sally first, sitting at a round table with about a dozen children of assorted sizes, and one adult male. Sally was eating, as usual, and the man could not take his eyes off her, also as usual. She was talking in an animated fashion, completely ignoring the fact her mouth was full. He cast his eyes further round the room. Another group of children, slightly older than the ones with Sally, were with a fresh-faced woman of thirty or so, and a group of small ones were playing in a corner under the eye of a grandmotherly type.

Spock sat a little apart from the rest, facing the door and a chess board. He had a look of severe concentration on his face, by which Kirk judged he was in difficulties – a less than rare occurrence. He looked with more interest at Spock's opponent but she was facing Spock and therefore had her back towards Kirk. All he could see of her was a sleek cap of silky black hair.

'Hi, Cap'n Jim.' Sally was at his side, following the direction of his gaze with a not altogether amused smile. 'Quite a spectacle, isn't it? She's won three times already.'

'Has she indeed? Introduce me to this remarkable child, then.'

'Just a second,' Sally said, eyes of the chessboard. A moment later she observed dispassionately, 'Four times. As Spock would say, unprecedented. C'mon then.'

She took his arm and led him across the room. Spock rose as they approached and his companion did too, turning to face Kirk for the first time.

'Captain Kirk,' Sally said formally, 'this is Fei Darian.'

'How do you do, Captain,' said Fei with composure, holding out her hand.

Kirk took the hand, grasping it more tightly than he meant to, and stared.

Sally Kilsyth had been described, with some justice, as one of the most beautiful women in the galaxies. Kirk had never expected to meet her equal and yet this child, half grown to womanhood, was all of that, and more.

It had to be the eyes. They gazed into Kirk's with a complete lack of self consciousness and the serene confidence that only comes with great beauty. Glorious eyes they were, sapphire blue deepening to cobalt near the irises, surrounded by thick and curling black lashes. The black hair – true, deep-night black shaded with metallic blue – fitted the curves of the skull like a second skin, emphasising the pure oval of the face and the full, alluring mouth. Only a woman completely secure in her own beauty could have worn that severe hairstyle and carried it off, could have worn the plain navy overalls with indifference knowing she was still lovely. The figure was only just formed, but she exuded a woman's sexuality all the same.

Kirk wondered if she had Vulcan blood in her somewhere. That would account for the blue-black sheen on her hair, and the delicate lift of the eyebrows.

'Ah… hello,' he said eventually. He came to the speedy conclusion that this was a less than brilliant opening remark, and went on, 'I hear you've been beating my First Officer hands down at chess. No-one but myself has ever had that distinction before. What do you say to playing a game with me sometime?'

'That would be delightful,' Fei replied in a pleasingly husky voice, choosing – through innocence or flirtatiousness, Kirk was not sure – to disregard the invitation in his tone. 'Mr Spock is an excellent opponent and someone who has mastered him would be an exciting challenge.'

'However,' Sally said dryly, 'be warned that chess is Miss Darian's hobby and she has memorised over two thousand grand master games.'

Miss Darian? Kirk thought incredulously. Miss Darian? He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Sally, who was friendly to a fault, who stood on terms of informality with everyone she met from Commodore to statesman, was seeking refuge in polite conventionalities. He had never heard her address anyone by anything other than a Christian name, or nickname. Come to think of it, he had never seen her look so completely un-amused, either.

'Miss Darian is sixteen, sir,' Spock informed him, with something suspiciously like awe in his tone. 'Yet she already holds degrees in computer electronics, engineering science and ballistic mathematics.'

'Don't forget English Literature and Vulcan Language,' Sally added blandly.

Kirk stole a look at her. The lovely face was entirely blank and the link was silent but Kirk knew without a doubt she was absolutely furious.

Now, why?

'If you already know all that,' Kirk said to Fei, shelving the problem for the moment,' why are you going to Gamma Helion? I would have thought five degrees would be enough for anyone.'

'Knowledge is the most important pursuit in the universe, Captain. Knowledge – and the ability to use it properly. There is so much to learn. If I spent the rest of my life studying, I would still be unsatisfied.'

Spock was nodding in profound agreement. Amused, Kirk said,

'So you intend to devote your whole life to learning?'

'Of one kind or another,' Fei agreed. 'All experience is part of the learning process, don't you agree?'

'Undoubtedly,' Kirk said, wondering whether she was, in fact, too young for him to consider becoming part of her learning process himself.

-Cradle snatcher- said the link, with unmistakeable disapproval.

Kirk was interrupted before he could point out that Sally had not been a great deal older than Fei when she had first come aboard, and that her sexual education had been at the 'advanced' stage even then.

The fresh-faced woman Kirk had rightly assumed to be one of the supervisors rose to her feet and clapped her hands twice. The subdued murmur of young voices was instantly hushed and all heads, including Fei's, turned obediently in her direction.

'Study hour, children,' the woman said brightly. 'To your cabins, please.'

Fei nodded politely to Kirk and Spock and moved to pass Sally on her way to join her fellows filing quietly out of the room.

The eyes of the girl and the woman met.

Kirk could have sworn he saw the glitter of steel and heard the clash of swords meeting in salute and challenge.

Then Fei was past Sally, being shepherded out of the door by the other two monitors as the woman who had spoken came over to Kirk. Her expression and voice had that determined brightness which teachers of children almost invariably seem to adopt when dealing with their charges and their acquaintance.

'Captain Kirk?' she said enquiringly, holding out her hand. When he took it, she pumped it so vigorously that he winced, and went on, 'Good of you to take us on board.' Before Kirk could remark that he had been given little choice in the matter, she continued, 'We'll try not to get in the way. The children were a little excited at first, but I'll make them stick to established routines as much as possible. Very important to have a routine, you know. Re-assures the children. Makes it easier for us to keep an eye on the little devils, too.' She laughed heartily at this and Kirk, feeling he was obliged to, gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Sally, a noticeably sardonic gleam in her eye, leaned back against the chess table with her arms folded and asked,

'Are they?'

'Are they what, dear?' Gina said.

'Little devils,' said Sally through clenched teeth, in order to make it quite plain she did not appreciate Gina's form of address.

'Oh, goodness me, no,' Gina replied, laughing again. 'That was a joke. Remarkably well behaved, on the whole.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Sally said. The sardonic look did not abate.

Kirk, fearing that Sally was about to produce a burst of incivility that would pierce even Gina's cheerful armour, made haste to assure the supervisor that she and her charges were welcome aboard his ship. Throughout this polite, and totally insincere, speech, Sally looked blatantly bored. As soon as Gina departed, Kirk wheeled on her.

'I thought you said you liked children,' he said accusingly.

'So I do,' Sally retorted. 'But that's not a child. That's a very stupid woman.'

'Hardly that, Miss Kilsyth,' Spock objected mildly. 'Miss Steven has done excellent work in the field of child psychology.'

'Spare me a catalogue of her virtues. She'd drive me up the wall in five seconds flat.'

'Then we must consider it fortunate you are not one of her pupils,' Spock said.

'And you can just shut up,' Sally snapped.

Kirk jerked his head imperceptibly at the door. Spock, after a fractional hesitation, obeyed the implicit command, and left.

'What's up with you?' Kirk demanded of Sally when they were alone.

'Not a damn thing,' Sally replied.

Kirk looked at her. To the best of his knowledge, she had never had a competitor before, had always been regarded as a woman of unchallenged loveliness. He knew she was not vain, yet would it be surprising if she regarded the passing of her unquestioned supremacy with dismay?

'Fei is very lovely,' he said, probing.

'True,' Sally agreed calmly, adding with a flash of her usual manner, 'Too young for you, though, Kirk. And don't start comparing her with me. The cases are not the same.'

'I don't dispute it,' Kirk replied dryly, and it was true. There was a quality of child-like innocence in Fei that he could not imagine Sally had ever possessed, and that she had certainly lost by the time Kirk had first met her.

Envy of that innocence, then?

'I seem to recall I once told you I don't regret any of my life,' Sally said, answering the as yet unspoken thought. 'Stop cross-examining me. Why can't I have a bad mood now and again like everyone else?'

'Because it's not like you,' Kirk said frankly.

'Well, it's not like Spock to drool over a pretty teenager no matter how many sodding degrees she has,' Sally replied caustically, 'but I don't see anyone rushing around asking him his motives.'

Illumination came to Kirk then, leaving him open-mouthed and amazed at his own blind stupidity.

It was not jealousy of Fei's accomplishments or beauty that had driven Sally into this unfamiliar mood of sharp fury. It was resentment at Spock's admiration – admiration that Sally had come to expect and accept as hers alone. Now she had been shocked out of her serene pre-emption of Spock's friendship into a realisation of…what?

He was barely aware that this thought had formed concretely before Sally shouted at him with violent emphasis,

'Oh, don't be so bloody stupid, Jim!'

They stared at each other for a long moment, aghast at the naked savagery of emotion that suddenly burned in the air between them. The Sally, with an inarticulate cry of rage, flung herself past him and out of the room

The door swept shut behind her. Left to himself, Kirk began to rock gently back and forth on his heels. Finally, he murmured,

'Well, well, well. And about time too.'

Sometime later he made his way to the bridge, whistling through his teeth.

McCoy strolled on to the bridge that afternoon, surprising Kirk somewhat; since Star Fleet regulations stated that any passenger carried by the 'Enterprise' should undergo a physical check as soon as possible after arrival, he had assumed McCoy would be busy for quite some time.

'Taking a break, Bones?'

'Hell, no, I'm finished,' McCoy replied. 'I tell you, Jim, it's a damn good thing we're not all as healthy as those kids. Otherwise I'd have to hang up my shingle.'

'You got through thirty-seven physicals today?'

McCoy had the grace to look a little ashamed of himself.

'Yeah, well, Chapel was there and…ah… Sally was around.'

'So you twinned on it?' Kirk entirely disapproved of this process, for it meant that Sally submerged her own mind into that of her donor's using his skills and memory without any effort on her part. Sally herself did not use this method often and Kirk had made it quite plain he did not wish her to be encouraged.

'She didn't have anything else to do,' McCoy said a shade defiantly, and rapidly changed the subject. 'She's fun with those kids, Jim. Doesn't talk down to 'em and threatens violent physical action if they don't do what she tells them – and they love it.'

Kirk finally pinpointed what had been nagging uneasily at the back of his mind all day.

'Don't you think they're all a little too angelic?'

McCoy leaned an arm on the back of Kirk's command chair, his face assuming a thoughtful expression as he pondered this.

'I don't know, Jim. I've never met an Alpha before. Wouldn't it stand to reason they won't be quite like other children? Most of 'em have spent their time in a very rarefied educational atmosphere where study is everything and play isn't encouraged. They've never really had a childhood.'

'I don't like it,' Kirk said decidedly. 'It isn't natural.'

'You should hear Spock on the subject,' McCoy retorted dryly. 'If you can possibly imagine Spock raving enthusiastically, that's what he was doing. When last seen he was discussing the rational of hyper-mathematics with Fei Darian, and I swear there was a gleam in his eyes, too.'

And what,' Kirk asked, with foreboding, 'was Sally doing?'

'Sulking,' was the succinct response.

Two days into their trip to Gamma Helion and the nagging unease in Kirk's bones was still there and growing steadily worse.

He had learned to trust his intuition implicitly, riding hunches that had looked like outright insanity, and it had never played him false. Even Spock, that master of facts and logic, had been known to acknowledge that Kirk's flair was almost uncanny and would have followed him unhesitatingly into hell if that was where Kirk's sixth sense led him.

Except that, at the moment, it did not seem to be leading him anywhere but round and round in circles. There was something not right about his ship. That was it boiled down to.

He could not, in all fairness, attribute it to the children. Their behaviour was exceptional. When not studying, they confined themselves to their recreation room and other open areas. They made no attempt to gain admittance to areas of the ship declared off limits to them.

And still Kirk could not quite like them.

The only time he felt anything approaching warmth towards them was when he saw them in Sally's company. With her, they were more like normal children; laughing at silly jokes, strutting around with exaggerated importance to gain her attention, making faces and telling stories. When Sally, losing patience with the naughtiness that only occurred in her company – which was, in its way, a compliment – threatened them with appalling punishment if they did not desist at once, they would shriek with glee and urge her on to further imaginative flights.

Her relationship with Gina Steven was far less happy. Fortunately, Kirk had so far managed to be on hand to prevent Sally from being either blatantly rude to her or (an alternative Sally would have greatly preferred) 'smacking her one.'

Could anyone be quite as insensitive as Gina seemed to be, Kirk wondered. She met all of Sally's offensives with her eternal cheerful smile, refused to be drawn into the argument Sally was so clearly longing for, did not even seem to notice Sally's dislike of her. It was possible that Gina, used to dealing with the precarious emotions of adolescents, had evolved this aura of bland insensibility to protect herself. Finding himself alone with Sally one afternoon halfway through the trip, Kirk voiced this opinion to her.

'Utter crap,' was her robust response. 'The woman's an idiot.'

'Yes, but she isn't, Sally,' Kirk said, tapping his finger on the tabletop to emphasis his point. 'She's a highly trained educator and a superb child psychologist into the bargain.'

'Oh, really? Then why is it that none – and I mean none, not even Fei, who is her golden child – of those kids like her?'

'Come on,' Kirk said, startled. 'I think you're letting your imagination run away with you.'

'Don't you tell me what I'm doing,' Sally retorted. 'Can we please remember that I am the one spending all my time with them all at the moment? They show her none of the affection they do to Joe and Hanna, or to me. Jim, they can't stand her. I should know, after all.'

'Do I get the impression you've been keeping something from me?'

'Any impression you may get is no responsibility of mine,' Sally said, with an acidity that was quite untypical of her.

'Sally,' Kirk snapped, on the verge of losing his temper, 'I have to say I don't particularly care if your pretty nose is merely out of joint or broken in forty-six different places. But I will tell you this – if you know something you're not telling me, I'll really give you something to sulk about.'

Sally did not, as he half expected, flare into anger at this quite unjustified remark. She merely at there staring at him, a rueful smile playing about her mouth. Eventually she said,

'Do you really think I'd do that to you, Jim?'

'No. Sorry,' Kirk said. 'I guess yours aren't the only nerves on edge at the moment.'

'Oh, mine aren't on edge, they've tipped tight over to murder point, I think.' Sally said cheerfully. She did not specify who it was she was on the point of murdering, and Kirk thought it wiser not to ask. 'If I had anything definite I'd tell you, you know I would. But I'm…' Her hands described vague circles in the air, seeking to express in motion what was too intangible to be expressed in words. 'I'm fuzzy, Jim. I can't say it better than that. I'm not picking things up as clearly as I used to, it's like seeing things through a thin curtain… Spock says its temporary because of all the time I was out of it. He's got me practicing my disciplines again, and it is helping.'

'Why didn't you say something about this before?' Kirk wanted to know.

'Because I didn't know, Jim. Blocking is automatic to me now. I haven't had any reason to read anyone since I came back; it wasn't til I tried that I discovered I couldn't.'

'Damn,' Kirk said softly. He had been relying on her gift more than he knew, expecting her to be able to tell him whether this feeling he had of impending menace stemmed from the children or their companions, or, indeed, some outside force he was not yet aware of. Well, he had got by before Sally had exploded into his life, he would get by again.

'Is there anything you can tell me?'

'Just a feeling. It's faint, but positive. I don't trust Gina. There's something not right about her. She doesn't like children.'

It went against all sense, all reason; Gina Steven, with her cheerful pink face and brisk no-nonsense manner, was hardly threat enough to warrant the appearance of Kirk's particular gift. But Sally's dislike of Gina was unusual enough for Kirk to be inclined to take it seriously.

'Are you keeping an eye on her?' he asked.

'Sticking to her like glue, Cap'n Jim. And believe me, I hope I'm wrong. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to prove her stupidity is natural. What are you going to do now?'

'Me?' Kirk grinned at her. 'I'm going to do what I do best. I'm going to get to know the lady better…'

Some hours later, he was very seriously regretting this decision.

That evening was the first of the three performances of 'The Matchmaker', and Gina and her pupils had been offered front row seats. Kirk invited Gina to dinner in his cabin prior to the show.

She had shown no surprise at his invitation, but no great enthusiasm either. She arrived dressed in the same clothes she had worn earlier in the day, her only tribute to the occasion a slight smear of colour on her lips. Kirk had asked for the room to be decorated with flowers and soft candles (ignoring his yeoman's none too subtle 'here we go again' rolling of the eyes) and had ordered the most sensual dishes his exceedingly wide experience had suggested. Neither the romantic décor nor the delicious food had much impact on her; she pronounced the flowers 'charming', adding that her favourite flowers were white roses, and ate her way stolidly through a meal which would have had Sally bedded before the first course was over. She spoke very little about herself, offered no details of home and family and listened with an air of slight distraction to his tales.

Kirk escorted her to the show and they sat behind the children, all of whom were thrilled to be watching their Sally on stage. And she did give a bravura performance, funny and touching in turns, belting out the big numbers; the audience clapped and cheered and laughed along with her and even with McCoy, who was basically just being McCoy in a top hat.

Gina watched the show without much reaction, a slightly puzzled look on her face as if she didn't quite get what was going on. But… when she knew Kirk was looking at her, she displayed the same response as the rest of the audience. Almost, Kirk thought, as if she was copying them because she didn't know the correct response to make. After the show, he invited her to the observation deck.

There was something… nebulous, vague, unrest walked the corridors with Kirk that day. He had never met a woman so remarkable for lack of character. There was no warmth in her tone, no life, not even when she spoke of the children to whom, by all accounts, she had devoted her days. He questioned, provoked, prompted and challenged her and she met all of his approaches with the same bland smile. He had to admit that, as a method of avoiding a direct answer, it was foolproof. She could not have blocked him more successfully if she had been downright rude to him.

By the time they reached the observation deck, he had decided on another tactic. As the great steel shutters wheeled smoothly back and the stars were revealed in all their glory, he slipped an expert arm around her not unattractive waist.

'You know, that's one of my favourite sights,' he said softly. 'And I enjoy it even more when there's a pretty woman beside me.'

She had stiffened slightly at his touch and made no move to respond to this advance. Kirk decided to persevere anyway and pulled her gently round to face him, tilting her chin upwards with his other hand as he did so. She gave him absolutely no encouragement, either with her eyes or her body, but she did not attempt to pull away. As if, he thought, she had an unpleasant duty to perform and had made up her mind to see it through.

He bent his head, with the smile that had such a devastating effect on most women playing about his mouth.

'And you are very pretty, Gina,' he said, in husky seductive tones.

She stared at him, almost mesmerised. Her whole body was rigid.

The hell with it, Kirk thought. I'm going to find out what this is all about. And he kissed her.

Her reaction, although unprecedented in his experience, was unmistakable. After a moment when she made no movement at all, she thrust him away from her with all her strength. Her hand, in an uncontrolled movement, rubbed back and forward across her mouth as if she wanted to erase the imprint of his lips upon it.

Kirk took a step towards her, spreading out his hands.

'Come on, Gina. It's just a kiss, after all. What's a kiss between friends?'

She shook her head at him wordlessly, her hand still resting, forgotten, against her mouth. He took another step and she turned on her heels and ran from him.

Kirk stood alone in the centre of the deck, for once utterly oblivious to the grandeur around him. He was not a particularly vain man but he had kissed a great many women for a great many reasons – not all of them to do with passion - and he was a veteran in their responses. Gina's rejection had not been the virginal fear of the unknown, nor the dismissive reaction of a woman whose sexual preference lay elsewhere. Gina had been terrified – and disgusted. Almost as if he was an alien to her…

After a few moments silent reflection Kirk, wondering if he were about to make a total fool of himself, went over to the intercom and called McCoy.

'Bones, was there anything… odd about Gina Steven's medical?'

'Whaddya take me for, an intern?' McCoy responded, justifiably indignant. 'Of course there wasn't.'

'You said Sally helped you,' Kirk said, striving not to make the comment sound like an accusation.

'Yeah, that's right. Sally, Chapel and me. You gonna quote regs at me? You know she was using my mind to do it.'

Sally. Sally, who was 'fuzzy'.

'Who did Gina's medical, Bones? It was Sally, wasn't it?'

'Yes,' McCoy replied. His drawl vanished and his voice was suddenly alert. 'It was indeed. What's up, Jim?

'Nothing – I hope, I'm on my way down.'

'I'll have the tape waiting for you,' McCoy said.

Sally stepped out of the shower, dripping and cursing fluently. The door buzzer sounded again and she swore it open, clutching at her towel as she did so.

'What do you want?' she asked, in distinctly cold tones.

Spock took two steps into the room, observed her lack of attire, and stopped short abruptly. Sally watched the colour deepen on his face with a certain mischievous satisfaction.

'I did not realise… Miss McKenna said that you were studying.'

And so I was, until a minute ago,' Sally replied, waving the door shut with one hand and calmly hitching up her towel – which did not quite seem to cover the essentials – with the other. 'As you would have found out, had you bothered to link-call.'

This was a very unfair remark, and they both knew it. Spock, reluctant to use the link at the best of times, had never employed it as a kind of secondary intercom as Kirk and Sally did, nor had Sally ever expected or requested him to.

'I will withdraw,' Spock said with dignity, 'until you are more suitably dressed.'

'Please don't bother,' Sally snapped, picking up her robe from the floor and thrusting her arms into it. As she belted it around her waist with quite unnecessary vigour, she added, 'I don't know why you're getting so hot under the collar, anyway. As outfits go, that towel probably covers more of me than most of the clothes I wear including, I might add, my Star Fleet uniform. Anyway, if you've managed to reach your age without setting eyes on a nearly naked female then your experience is woefully lacking.'

'My experience in these matters in not under discussion,' Spock said, very stiffly.

'Not by you, maybe,' Sally retorted.

'Sally, I have neither your talent, not your taste, for innuendo, and I will not continue a conversation with you upon these lines.'

Sally had the decency to look a little ashamed of herself. She flung herself into a chair and said crossly,

'Fine, you pompous Vulcan, have it your way. What did you want to see me about?'

He was silent, watching her, and she saw that she had puzzled him with her inexplicable antagonism. She herself was finding it hard to comprehend why she should be so angry with him.

'I'm sorry if I offended you, Spock. Shall we start this conversation over?'

'Offence is a human emotion.'

Of course it is,' Sally agreed warmly, smiling at him with great brilliance. 'I should also apologise for thinking that you might be subject to such a human trait. Can't think what came over me.'

Spock eyed her suspiciously but decided that to continue on this topic would only lead to deep waters from which he might not necessarily escape with his Vulcan persona unscathed. That persona was never very safe with Sally anyway and he judged her mood to be precarious enough for her to let slide the pretence that she did not see through his carefully wrought barriers all too clearly.

He sat. Sally, wriggling like an eel, managed to remove the towel without revealing enough flesh to offend her Vulcan's sense of the proprieties and applied it to her hair, which was dripping over the furniture.

'So what's up?' she asked, somewhat muffled.

'The captain is worried,' Spock said, 'and I, too, have had some subliminal awareness all is not well. You are still unable to read anyone?' That question was personal in the extreme and he had hesitated before asking it; but Sally had always taken it for granted he could ask her anything and he had never known her to display embarrassment. As an incidental result of this, he had frequently found himself seeking enlightenment from her on topics it would not have occurred to him to question Kirk about, let alone McCoy.

'Unable?' Sally repeated thoughtfully. 'No, I don't know if I would say that, exactly.' She gave her hair one last brisk rub and then dropped the towel carelessly on the floor, pushing the heavy sweep of her hair away from her face with both hands. 'The link doesn't seem to be affected, nor is the snap…'

'The what?' Spock said, momentarily at a loss.

'Telekinetic ability,' Sally replied, enunciating each syllable precisely. 'I do wish you wouldn't be do damn literal, it really slows the conversation down… Where was I?'

'Telekinetic ability,' Spock said blandly.

Sally had the definite feeling she was being goaded, and frowned. Hostilities had been suspended, not terminated and it wouldn't take much to resurrect them.

'Every time I read someone, all I get is a confused mass of thoughts and emotions. I think you're right, my fine control slipped while I was with Kerad. You know as well as I do that you lose it if you don't practice every day. You've spent as much time with those kids as I have – well, with Fei Darian, anyway,' she added, letting her grievance slip without any conspicuous effort to restrain herself. 'What do you think?'

Miss Darian has said nothing about her relationship with Miss Steven.'

'Hmmm, you don't seem to have got a lot of information out of her,' Sally remarked. 'Considering you've spent the past few days huddling in corners with your heads together, looking like …' She caught Spock's incredulous look and stopped abruptly. The thought crossed her mind that, this time, she might have gone too far.

Spock, however, was treading very warily. By no means as adept as Kirk at judging emotions of any kind, let alone those of the female of the species, it had taken him some little time to work out that Sally was displaying all the classic symptoms of jealousy. This, according to all the human literature Spock had ever read, was a promising symptom. It was also, as he was now experiencing first hand, exceedingly tiresome. So he said mildly,

'I will admit I have not been as successful in obtaining facts as I had hoped. However, there must be some reason for your mistrust of Miss Steven.'

Sally's expression relaxed, but she said snappily,

'Just intuition, and I know you don't believe in that.'

'It is not a question of belief,' Spock said slowly. 'I find the terminology inaccurate and the powers humans claim for that attribute misplaced. Intuition is simply the sum of facts known, whether consciously or unconsciously. What facts do you know about Miss Steven?'

Sally absent-mindedly began to plait strands of her hair together.

'Aside from the fact that she's boring? I don't know any, Spock.'

'Think!' Spock commanded her. 'Did the years on my planet teach you nothing? Your mind is a tool. Use it.'

Sally's eyes met and held his, but she did not see him. Spock kept his gaze on her, and otherwise remained motionless. There was silence in the room for almost five minutes.

Then Sally bounced to her feet with an abruptness and exuberance that startled him.

'That's it!' she shouted, hitting the table with the palms of both hands. 'C'mon, Spock, we need to go and see McCoy.'

'May one ask why?' Spock enquired, but she was already out of the door, bounding down the corridor with her feet bare, hair tumbled and the robe slipping un-noticed from her shoulders. Spock followed her out at a more sedate pace and promptly encountered the amazed stare of a crewman who had witnessed her precipitate exodus. He could hardly blame the man for the speculation written all over his face, but he raised an eyebrow calmly, daring him to comment. Then he joined Sally, who was waiting impatiently by the elevator.

'Sorry,' she said as the doors enclosed them, stealing a glance at his face. 'I do get you into some situations, don't I?'

'It does seem to be one of your less helpful attributes,' he agreed.

'Well,' she said with a shrug, starting to giggle, 'considering our respective reputations, the general consensus will probably be that I made a determined assault on your virtue, which you repulsed.'

'I do not find that thought particularly edifying,' Spock told her glacially and maintained a frigid silence for the rest of the journey to sickbay.

Sally took three quick steps into McCoy's office and stopped short. Kirk rose from the desk. He was holding a tape in his hands.

'So,' he said. 'You've remembered.'

'It's very faint,' McCoy said to Sally, after they had all viewed the tape and its evidence. 'I might have missed it myself.'

'Nice try,' Sally replied, with a humourless smile, 'but you know you wouldn't have. Thanks anyway.' She had herself well under control but her distress was obvious to them all.

'It's all right, Sally,' Kirk said, although heaven knew it might well not be. Spock stood close behind her, far closer than he would normally have permitted himself to be. His presence was immensely reassuring and Sally had to restrain a ridiculous impulse to lean back against him and cry.

'So Gina Steven isn't human,' Kirk said thoughtfully. 'It might help if we knew what she is… Bones?'

'Dunno,' McCoy said briefly. 'Sorry, Jim, but I've never seen a reading like that before and I can spot standard alien patterns a mile off.'

'Why don't we just ask her?' Sally suggested.

Kirk, Spock and McCoy all stared at her. Such an obvious solution had not occurred to any of them.

'I know I don't like her, but so far she hasn't done anything that can be construed as aggressive. There might even be a perfectly logical explanation,' she added with a glance at Spock which clearly said, 'Beat you to it that time.'

'There might be, I suppose,' Kirk agreed. There was, so far, no reason to suppose Gina was a threat – nothing, that was, save Kirk's sixth sense, and even he was prepared to admit looking for trouble where it had not yet been proven to exist was second nature to him now.

'Spock, we'll go see the lady and…' The intercom whistled and Kirk broke off in mid-sentence to answer it. 'Kirk here.'

'Captain,' Uhura's voice said, ' we have just received a subspace transmission from a vessel calling itself the flagship of the Ujentan peoples.' Her voice was puzzled.

'Never heard of 'em,' Kirk retorted. 'What do they want?'

'Sir, they say they will rendezvous with us in twelve hours, and they request permission to dock with us and…' There was a pause.

'And what, Uhura?' Kirk said patiently.

'Sir, they say they are coming by arrangement with Star Fleet to collect Vice President Halloran and her companion. What answer do you wish me to send, sir?'

Kirk looked at Spock, who had both eyebrows on the rise.

'Transmit this, Uhura. No such arrangement was made by us.'

'I'm afraid it was, Captain Kirk, ' said Gina Steven from the doorway.

Kirk said, 'Hold that,' snapped off the intercom and turned to face Gina, who moved into the centre of the room, keeping her eyes on Kirk. Sally leaned back against McCoy's desk, pulling her robe firmly on to her shoulders and tightening her belt.

Kirk was vividly reminded of a soldier, preparing for battle.

'I think you owe me an explanation,' Kirk said to Gina. 'Who are you? What do you want?'

'Nothing from you, Captain. That is, nothing but transport and not even that for long. Our people will not venture into populated territory.'

'Your people?' Spock asked.

'The Ujentan race, Mr Spock. You will not have heard of us. Those of us who move among you do so as humans. We do not desire that you should know us better.'

Kirk decided he preferred this Gina Steven to her earlier self. Gone was the brisk and characterless manner, the bland smiles and the endless cheerfulness. This woman had a hard-edged intelligence in her eyes and a crisp voice that said she would be a worthy friend or foe. Kirk was not yet sure which she intended to be.

'Are you Gina Steven?' Sally asked. 'I mean, have you always been known by that name?'

'I have borrowed her identity for a while. The real Gina Steven is on Persis, quite safe and quite unaware. Captain Kirk, it would probably save time if you contacted your Admiral Doran.'

'Doran knows about this?'

'Knows? He arranged it,' Gina replied.

'Sorry about the deception, Jim,' Doran said. 'I reckoned without your flair, though. Should have known you'd pick up something was off.'

'What the devil is all the secrecy about?' Kirk demanded.

'Jim, our negotiations with the Ujentans are at a very delicate stage and being conducted at the highest levels. We'd be delighted to welcome them into the Federation, but they are less enthusiastic. So we have agreed on an compromise. One of their number will be spending time on Earth, and Fei Darian volunteered to go to Ujenta. Sort of exchange students, if you will. They will report back to their respective governments on a regular basis, and if all goes well, other exchanges will be arranged and Ujenta will join the Federation eventually. They have amazing technology, Jim. Way above what we have.'

'Fei Darian knows about this? And agreed?'

'Why, certainly. She's been training for it for the last year. Well, you've met her. Do you think she's the type to pass up the chance for this kind of knowledge? Ask heryourself.'

'I really want to go,' Fei told Kirk. ' Think of the opportunity, Captain – the chance to be the first to study an alien race, previously unknown to us, in their own surroundings. And I can teach them about us in return. I have no family, no-one who will miss me. Vice President Halloran and Admiral Doran made me a business proposition, and I accepted it.'

'What happens if you don't like it? If you want to come back?' Kirk asked.

'She will be returned,' the woman now known as the Vice President said. 'All that she will lose are some of her memories. But she will not want to return.'

-Sally?-

-As far as I can tell, she's not lying, Jim. There's no plan to hurt Fei, or restrain her. But there is something else, something she's hiding, and I can't get to it-

-Important?-

-Don't know. Nothing to do with Fei, I think-

'If you have assured yourself of my good intentions, may I now contact my ship and tell them they may dock?'

'Very well,' Kirk said, after a moment's hesitation. 'Go ahead.'

A small group assembled by the air lock the next day to bid farewell to Fei. Kirk, still plagued by a nagging sense of unease and Spock, who had come to say goodbye to a young woman who had very much impressed him. Sally was there too, with the less noble motive of inquisitiveness, and McCoy had accompanied her.

The Ujentan ship, as seen on the viewing screen beside the airlock, was certainly something to behold. Three times the size of the 'Enterprise' she spoke of technology they could not hope to match and could have blasted them out of the skies with ease if such had been her desire. Fortunately she seemed to have no such inclination. Uhura reported no signs of shield or weapons activity.

Fei was almost dancing in anticipation. The Vice President was more composed and it did not seem to be in her nature to make a display of her feelings, but a subdued gleam in her eyes suggested she shared Fei's eagerness. Sally, for reasons of her own, was also keen to see them gone. Possibly because she was determined not to be out-done by Fei, she had arrayed herself in a sea-green dress that was startlingly beautiful and more than a little indecent.

'The Ujentan ship is docking now, Captain,' Uhura's voice informed them from the intercom.

'Thank you, Uhura,' Kirk said. They could hear the hollow clanking of the walkway as it connected with the outer hull, and then the hiss of compressed air as the vacuum in the air lock filled.

'Right, bye then,' Sally said brightly.

'Don't worry,' Fei said gently, to Kirk.

'I won't,' Sally muttered in an undertone to McCoy, then caught Spock's eye and blushed for the first time in her life.

The airlock door opened and Fei stepped inside.

'And you, Spock,' said the Vice President.

There was an instant's stunned silence during which Kirk had time to wonder where she had hidden the weapon she was now pointing at them.

'Not a chance,' Kirk said, moving forward, vaguely aware that Sally was moving too.

Halloran let Kirk get close enough to touch her. Then she pulled the trigger.

To be continued…

T'ARAMU by Sue Newlands

CHAPTER NINE – FEI (continued)

'Jim! Wake up, Jim!'

Kirk grabbed the hand that was slapping his face and almost choked his chief medical officer to death.

'Bones!'

'Not yet, and I'd like to keep it that way, thanks,' McCoy wheezed, massaging his throat.

Kirk sat up, the pins and needles sensation in his legs gradually fading as he moved.

'Where's Spock?'

'Not here,' McCoy responded, briskly injecting Kirk with a stimulant and then performing that same office on himself. 'I tried that,' he added, seeing Kirk glance automatically at the intercom. 'He's not on board, Jim.'

Kirk's legs were at last his own. He jumped to his feet, too concerned with Spock's absence to notice that Sally, too, was missing.

'Uhura!' he barked into the intercom. 'Open a channel to the Ujentan ship and inform them if they do not instantly return my First Officer to this ship, they may regard themselves as having executed an act of aggression against the Federation.'

'Sorry, sir,' Uhura's voice said, after a pause. 'They're jamming all frequencies. I can't even get a message out to the nearest Starbase.'

'I'm coming up,' Kirk told her, but before he could move Scott's voice broke in urgently over the connection to the bridge.

'Captain! Someone's just used the transporter to beam aboard the other ship!'

Now, at last, Kirk realised who was not there, who of all people would not stand by and wait for channels of diplomacy to run their course while Spock was in danger. With the instant's warning granted to her by her telepathic sense, she must have been running for the transporter room as Gina pulled the trigger on Kirk (and presumably on Spock, too, since the Vulcan would never have allowed himself to be taken had he been conscious), tuning in to the link and flying to his side as easily as a homing pigeon returns to its nest. At least…

'Did she make it?' he demanded harshly of Scott.

'Aye, I think so… though she hasna given the co-ordinates any fine tuning. It looks as though she left in a hurry… I assume it was Sally, sir?'

'Who else would do anything so bloody stupid? Are the co-ordinates still set?'

'Aye, sir, that they are.'

'Hold them,' Kirk said briefly and turned from the intercom to meet McCoy's unbelieving stare.

'You're not going after them,' McCoy said flatly. He got no answer. Kirk, his mouth set in a thin line, walked past him with his intention clearly written all over his face.

'Are you crazy?' McCoy followed him down the corridor, trotting to keep up. 'Jim, that woman gets into more scrapes than a potato and so far she's got out of them just fine. She's got Spock. He's got her. I can't think of anything or anyone that could stand up against that combination when it gets going. They don't need you charging after them on your personal white horse and Star Fleet certainly won't thank you for it. You need to stay here and do your job – which is to get them back without causing a war.'

'They are both my friends,' Kirk said, without slowing down.

'And they are mine, too,' McCoy pointed out, very quietly.

Kirk stopped short abruptly and McCoy collided with him. For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence.

McCoy knew exactly what was going through Kirk's mind at that instant. It was, of course, his business to understand his captain's mental health and he had developed an instinct for divining Kirk's emotions that was almost uncanny, but he had never before known with such clarity exactly what Kirk was thinking.

It had always been Kirk and Spock in the past. That friendship had already passed into legend within Star Fleet, had been tested to the limit in so many situations. They had each risked career, sanity, life for each other.

And now there was Sally.

Bound to them both from the first, re-bound by their own choice, she had taken her place at their side as if she had always belonged there. Kirk had accepted her there and even Spock had allowed it in the end, trusting her with his life – and with Kirk's.

There was Sally, extravagantly willing to rush in where only Kirk and Spock had dared to tread in the past. Sally, who would go to Spock's aid before even Kirk, and was as capable of fighting for him if she had to.

And now, Kirk was facing the fact there would be times when Sally could go to Spock's aid when he could not – and times when Spock might even prefer it that way.

'I can't be that egotistical,' Kirk whispered. 'Am I?'

As McCoy slowly shook his head, Uhura announced from the intercom,

'Captain, the Ujentan ship has just gone to warp speed. Mr Sulu is requesting course instructions.'

Kirk held McCoy's gaze for a moment longer. Then he went over to the intercom, slammed his hand against the 'transmit' button, and said,

'Tell him to get after them. I'm on my way. Kirk out.'

'That's more like it,' McCoy muttered, and followed his captain into the elevator.

Sally materialised six feet above the ground and fell with a sickening thump to the floor.

'Bugger, ouch, bugger, bugger,' she muttered, a quick look round assuring her that no-one had seen or heard her arrival. The corridor was empty.

There had been time for no sort of plan; Sally was not even sure she had thought at all. The interval between Gina's pulling the gun on Kirk and Sally finding herself in the transporter room, feverishly setting the controls with hands that did not seem to belong to her, was a total blank in her mind. Even as she stepped under the beams she did not know if the co-ordinates had come from her link with Spock or her own imagination, or if she would find herself reconstituted in deep space or the cold metal of a starship wall. But the compulsion to go to Spock's aid overrode any other consideration and the need to be at his side, whether he wanted her there or not, was too great to be controlled.

-Spock? Where are you?-

-Sally?-

It had always been difficult for Spock to hide behind his barriers in the link. Thought to thought, mind to mind – there, if anywhere, was there truth between them. Subtleties and resonances which did not exist in speech suddenly sprang into clear life, every telepathic form had an echo behind it.

In that one word which came in answer to her question, Sally sensed many things. His use of the form for her first name, an informality he rarely permitted himself even now, was sufficient indication of his surprise at her presence. But there was relief there too, and perhaps, even pleasure.

-I'm on my way, Spock-

Actually, this was a gross exaggeration. Aside from the fact she was in some kind of corridor, Sally had no idea where she was in relation to Spock – and this was a big ship.

-Sally, I appreciate your concern but I appear to be in no immediate danger. I beg of you to restrain your instincts for the dramatic-

-Do not worry, my Vulcan friend, I have no desire to call attention to my presence just yet. Sit tight-

-Since I appear to be locked in- the link said, with unmistakeable dryness –I have little choice but to await your arrival-

Sally slipped from shadow to shadow, limping a little; she had fallen heavily on her ankle, and it was beginning to hurt. She wondered if Spock were right, if what she had done had been unnecessarily dramatic. There had been no thought of heroics or drama when she came after him. It had been simple, blind need that could not be gainsaid nor surrender to any practical consideration. She could have brought a phaser or communicator with her. She could have waited, and submitted to Kirk's decision. Both these arguments, she knew, would be uttered by Kirk – and with good reason – when she and Spock returned to the safety of the 'Enterprise'.

She smiled. Kirk himself would have acted just as she had done had the instant's warning granted to her had reached him in time. Dear Jim, still firmly convinced that Sally, by virtue of her sex, should follow where he led.

She wriggled into an air vent and sensed she was coming to a more populated area of the ship. Considering its size, there seemed to be remarkably few crew on board – something that Sally could not help wondering about. Knowing Spock's insatiable curiosity, it might be that a little exploration would be the order of the day before they made good their escape…

-Spock? Close?-

-Very close-

A few minutes later Sally was sliding out of the air vent into the room where Spock was being held prisoner. It could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be described as a cell. It was even luxurious. The carpet was soft and thick, the couch and chairs comfortably upholstered. There was a shelf full of books and a pot of coffee sitting on a table, which Sally promptly helped herself to.

'No biscuits, dammit.'

'Your ankle is swollen,' Spock observed.

'What? Oh, so it is.'

A few seconds later, Spock was efficiently applying a cold towel to her leg. Sally glanced round and saw that an open door led to a bedroom, equally comfortable.

'Hmmm, someone wants you to feel at home.'

'Indeed, that has been my impression also.'

'Have you seen anyone?'

'No-one. After I was stunned, I awoke here.'

She finished her coffee, grateful for the warmth and energy it sent through her. She flashed an irrepressible smile at Spock.

'So. Any ideas on how we get out of this?'

'You,' Spock pointed out, 'came to rescue me. Did you think to bring a weapon or communicator?'

'Um, well, no. But I can link to Jim and give him the co-ordinates to beam us back.'

'If they are in range,' Spock said. 'Furthermore, I cannot speak for the 'Enterprise', but this ship is at warp speed.'

'Ah.' Sally looked momentarily disconcerted. Then she grinned and shook her charm bracelet at him.

'Then I guess it's time we rang the bell, don't you?'

There was a silence.

'You haven't told him, have you,' Sally said. 'You said it was for his peace of mind, and you didn't tell him about it. He doesn't know the frequency.'

'I could not foresee you would need to be found again quite so soon,' Spock said, a little defensively.

'There's going to be a conversation, Spock.'

'Once we return to the ship,' Spock replied, meeting her eyes. 'Possibly. But not here, and not now.'

'Practical as always. In that case, shall we go?'

'After you,' Spock said politely, as she gestured the door open.

They walked down the corridor together cautiously. There was no need to discuss a plan of escape. Each knew that the other had come to the conclusion that the only chance was to see if the ship had escape shuttles – and, logically, a craft this size should possess many – steal one, and pilot it back to the 'Enterprise'.

Spock grasped her arm abruptly, halting her in mid-stride. A second later, her mind registered what his acute hearing had already heard. Someone was coming down the corridor towards them and there was no corner where they could hide.

Sally laid a hand on the closest door.

-Empty. Come on-

Spock followed her inside, saying as the door closed,

'I calculate the odds on our reaching the hanger deck unobserved to be 1532.73 to 1.'

'What I like about you is your eternal optimism.' Sally replied, casting an eye hastily about the room. 'Spock, I do believe that's fruit over there. Do you think it would disagree with me if I ate it?'

'My observation of your eating habits has led me to suspect you could ingest irradiated carbon without ill effects,' Spock said austerely.

'Fair enough.' And Sally took an enormous bite out of something that looked almost, but not quite, like a peach.

The door swept open to admit Fei Darian and Sally promptly swallowed her mouthful whole.

'Are you all right?' Fei asked after Spock had hit Sally, with rather more force than was absolutely necessary, on the back and the offending piece of fruit had been expelled.

'That remains to be seen,' Sally said, with a withering glance at Spock. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

'This is my cabin,' Fei said. She did not appear to be at all perturbed by Sally's unexpected presence, or Spock's obvious freedom.

'Good, you can answer some questions. Have a seat.' A chair suddenly slid across the room, banged into Fei's knees and deposited her on the seat, heavily.

'Miss Kilsyth, I do not believe Miss Darian had fore-knowledge of the Vice President's intentions.'

'I didn't,' Fei said earnestly, looking at Sally. 'I was as surprised as you were.'

'Fei,' said Sally, 'you had better tell me the truth. You must know that I will just take it from you if you don't.'

'I am telling you the truth,' Fei snapped back, 'and you can check if you want to. I don't have anything to hide.'

-Sally, I believe she is speaking the truth. There is no need for you to behave like a member of the Gestapo-

Sally made a noise rather like an infuriated kitten, and flounced to a chair opposite Fei.

'Then do you at least know why?'

'I think so.' Fei hesitated, looking at Spock. 'I believe she wanted a Vulcan to study.'

'Vulcans are the last people in the universe to stand in the way of knowledge,' Sally observed, 'so why didn't she just go through the proper channels with Doran and arrange an exchange, like she did with you?'

'Because it's Vulcan emotions she wants to study.'

'Vulcans do not have emotions,' Spock said.

'I do not wish to debate you, Mr Spock,' Fei said, very respectfully, 'but that's the myth which has built up since first contact, and why she did not go direct to the Vulcans. The facts are that Vulcans control their emotions. They make decisions based on facts and logic, deliberately choosing to disregard feelings. Children are trained from birth to manage and master their passions. Some are more successful than others. Mr Spock, even you must know there are Vulcans who do not live guided by logic.'

'If he does, he's kept bloody quiet about it,' Sally interposed.

'The Ujentans, on the other hand, really do have no emotions. They don't control them, they just don't have them. No love, or hate, or envy, or passion. I think they wanted a human and a half-Vulcan to make comparisons.'

'That explains a hell of a lot, at least to me,' Sally said to Spock. 'I couldn't pick anything up from her, and I thought it was me – but there just wasn't anything there to get.'

'I knew you'd come after him,' Fei said to Sally. 'I tried to tell the Vice President that, but she didn't believe me. She's never loved anyone, so she doesn't understand.'

She stood up before Sally could respond to that last statement and went over to the computer on the desk.

'Mr Spock, the hangar deck is 23 levels below this one, and the most direct route is this way. The ship is almost fully automated, you are not likely to meet anyone and I'm sure you can cope with anyone if you do…'

'Am I invisible here? Excuse me, I came to rescue him and have fabulous telekinetic powers, why are we assuming the male person will be doing the coping?'

Spock's mouth twitched perceptibly but he asked, gravely enough,

'Does the ship possess shuttlecraft?'

'Yes, but not very many, and they aren't fuelled for long trips. I'll contact the 'Enterprise' and let them know your course back…'

'You are not coming with us?' Spock asked.

'I made a choice, and I'm going to stick to it. They aren't bad people, Mr Spock, they just don't quite 'get' emotion. I won't come to any harm. The Vice President wouldn't let you go herself, but she won't do anything to me – no anger, no need for punishment, you see.'

'You are sure?'

'Didn't you just hear her say so? Let's go.' Sally stood up and went over to the door, tapping her foot impatiently. Spock hesitated.

'Go,' Fei said. 'And stay safe – both of you.'

'Miss Darian is an exceedingly polite young lady,' Spock commented as they made their way to the hangar deck doors.

'You mean, unlike a certain redhead you know? I can think of another word for it,' Sally responded disagreeably. 'In fact, if she'd had her head any further up your…'

To Spock's inexpressible relief, she was interrupted before she could finish that sentence. The door immediately to their left opened and two men came out. There was hardly any hesitation before they reached for their side arms, but it was enough for Sally; she snapped her fingers and they both lifted off the ground, spinning wildly.

'That ought to keep 'em occupied til we're away. Which one is the hangar deck?'

'At the end of the corridor.' Spock pointed. 'According to the schematics Miss Darian has, the external doors can be operated from within the shuttle. If you can…'

He broke off suddenly and staggered, bumping into her. Sally, surprised, put out a hand to support him and almost screamed; where she touched him, her hand was wet with blood. A knife was protruding from his side, only inches away from where she knew his heart was.

'What the bloody hell…' She turned, and realised that one of the men, despite the dizzying spin she has sent him into, had managed to draw and throw the knife at them. Snapping her fingers, she sent them crashing heavily into each other, and then dropped them to the floor with a thump.

'We need to go. Now.' Spock was leaning against the wall, very pale.

'You need a doctor. I'm going to get Fei.'

'If you do, I doubt we will get off this ship. And I am sure Dr. McCoy will be delighted to exercise his skills as soon as we return.'

'Can you move?'

'I can. Open the hangar doors.'

Sally ran down the corridor, heedless of the pain in her ankle, snapping the doors open and quite prepared to kill anyone or anything that stood in the way of her getting Spock safely home. The hangar deck was empty of people, but three crafts stood ready. Sally opened the biggest, reasoning it should have the greatest supply of fuel and air. Then she ran back to Spock, slipping a hand under his arm to help him into the shuttle.

'I do not need any assistance…'

'Linked, remember? You're in agony. Tell me how to fly this.'

Spock sat down heavily in one of the seats as Sally closed the shuttle doors and began to flick switches. The forward screen came on suddenly, startling her, and the external doors started to slide open. He leaned forward with a grimace and said,

'I suspect you will find the control just under your right hand is the ignition.'

Sally pressed the button and the little ship shot forward into space.

Kirk was pacing the bridge.

'All transmissions still being jammed, sir,' Uhura said into the silence, giving him a routine report he could well have done without.

Kirk cursed under his breath. It had been that way for two hours now, unable to get a message out, nothing coming in. The Ujentan ship had long since vanished from the edge of the scanner, but Sulu was still following doggedly, riding hunches rather than solid information, and since Kirk had nothing to offer but hunches anyway, he had let Sulu get on with it.

Everyone was very carefully not looking at the empty science console chair.

Kirk's pacing brought him to the elevator, where he collided with McCoy, who was stepping out of it.

'Anything?' McCoy asked, though he knew it was pointless; he would have been informed if contact had been made. Kirk shook his head.

'Not a damn thing. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was nothing out there at all.'

The elevator opened again and Kirk turned, surprised, as he had not requested anyone else's attendance. Siran McKenna emerged.

Kirk didn't know Sally's room-mate all that well. She worked in the archaeology section and had joined the 'Enterprise' from a frontier ship, which possibly explained her hair – although perfectly regulation in style, it was coloured in wild streaks of red, gold, brown and copper. He believed she and Sally were close friends but Siran seemed a little in awe of him, and always managed to quietly disappear when he and Sally were together.

'Miss McKenna?'

'I thought you might need this, sir.' She handed him a slip of paper. Kirk glanced down at it.

'What's this?'

'It's Sally's frequency, sir.'

'Frequency?' McCoy was looking as puzzled as Kirk. 'What frequency?'

'Of her transponder.'

'She has a transponder?' Kirk asked. 'Bones, did you…?'

'Nothing to do with me, Jim.'

'Could you elaborate, Miss McKenna?'

'Certainly, Captain. Mr Spock gave her a transponder. It's in her charm bracelet.'

She waited for a moment or two in case there were any further questions, then nodded a polite goodbye and disappeared back into the elevator. Kirk and McCoy were left staring at each other.

'Well, I'll be damned,' McCoy said eventually. 'That sneaky Vulcan. I might have known he'd have something extra up his sleeve. Are you just gonna stand there, Jim?'

'Uhura!' Kirk said, galvanised. 'See if you can get a fix on this…'

'Okay,' said Sally, leaning back in her chair. 'The course is set, and we're on auto. Get that shirt off, Spock.'

'Certainly not,' Spock said promptly, with great firmness.

'Oh, for God's sake, you have Victorian attitudes, did you know that?' Sally snapped, exasperated. She went aft and could be heard throwing things about. Over the noise, she shouted, 'I don't know where you get your hang-ups from, but without wishing to be crude, or, worse yet, embarrassing, you of all people must know that I have seen a number of male bodies in my time.' She appeared in the doorway with a small chest in her hands. 'Can you possibly believe that the sight of your naked torso will send me so mad with lust that I'll be unable to control myself – which is unlikely, most of my men could give you a run for your money – or are you built so differently from any other male…'

Spock took his shirt off. It seemed preferable to a temper tantrum.

'There, that wasn't so difficult, was it? I don't know what the medicines are, but I can recognise a pressure bandage when I see one – and I don't faint at the sight of blood, not even green blood.' Despite her little tirade, Spock of all people could not fail to be unaware of the -hmmm, yum- which seemed to be reverberating round the room. She opened a bottle and sniffed. 'Antiseptic. This will sting.' She mopped blood gently from his skin; the wound was neat, but deep, and had bled freely. 'Has it hit anything vital?'

'I believe not. You have all the makings of an excellent nurse.'

'I have all the makings of an excellent everything,' Sally said bitterly. She was concentrating more intensely than necessary on putting the pressure bandage in place and he could not see her face. 'Superhero, combat expert, rescuer in chief – choose your pick and I'll show you how to screw it up so fast it'll make your head spin.'

'Humility does not become you,' Spock replied dryly. 'What would you have me say? You did what you came to do, and both of us are still alive and reasonably intact.'

Sally said swiftly and impetuously,

'But I didn't do it myself. If Fei hadn't helped, we might not have got out.'

'Does the fact that we were given aid invalidate your actions?'

'No, but it sure as hell wounds my vanity. I always thought I could do anything.'

'If your vanity is all that is wounded, you are fortunate. It may even be good for you.'

She looked up at him and smiled. His expression was gentle, one eyebrow on the rise.

And that was when it happened; when Sally, who had believed along with Dolly Levi that the great loves, the violins and shooting stars, only happened once in a lifetime, found out that for the lucky few, the first great love was simply a precursor of the real thing. That a love that had grown slowly and surely over time, out of friendship and respect and shared lives, was just as shattering, just as exhilarating, and just as final. Her life crashed around her and rebuilt, changed for ever in the instant as their eyes met and held.

Spock was aware, of course, that some kind of seismic shift had just taken place. He hesitated; the moment seemed unpropitious for any kind of declaration.

'Spock, about that conversation…'

All the lights on the control board lit up at once.

'What the hell is that?' Sally leaned over the board, trying to decipher the alien configuration.

'I think you will find it means we are losing air,' Spock said matter-of factly.

'Oh, crap,' said Sally.

'Sir!' Uhura exclaimed. 'I have a message coming in. It's very faint…' She frowned in concentration. 'Sir, it's Fei Darian. She says they're headed back to us in a shuttlecraft. Co-ordinates confirm the ones you already gave us. She will prevent the Ujentan ship from following. Message ends, Captain.'

'What did I tell you?' McCoy said gleefully. 'I told you nothing could stand up against that combination, didn't I?'

'You did, doctor,' Kirk replied in a tone as dry as dust as he settled into the command chair.

So, McCoy thought. There were obviously emotional hurdles still to be cleared – and not before time. He took up his position behind Kirk's chair and said softly, for Kirk's ears alone,

'Don't be too hard on her, Jim.'

'Any other member of my crew would be court-martialled,' Kirk commented, but without heat. McCoy wasn't sure he wouldn't prefer blazing anger to that arid, cold tone.

'Not necessarily,' he retorted. 'You, for instance, have done some equally crazy things in your time. Jim, if you or Spock are in danger, it's physically and emotionally impossible for Sally to sit back and wait upon events. You know that. In the past, you've counted on it. Why is this time so different?'

'You're the psychologist,' Kirk said, without turning round. 'You tell me.'

'Sir, I have a message from Sally coming in,' Uhura announced. 'I think.'

'You think? Put it on audio, Uhura.'

A sharp crackle of static swept across the bridge. Then Sally's voice, cross and unmistakable, erupted from the speakers.

'I don't care, Spock, that can't be the air reading. Kilsyth to 'Enterprise', come in please. Of course this is the transmitter, you pompous Vulcan, I just haven't got the frequency set right. Kilsyth to 'Enterprise', Jim, come in please.'

Kirk moved across to Uhura's station and said into the microphone,

'I would if I could get a word in.'

'Jim, is that you?' Sally said, in tones of relief. 'Have you got our position?'

'We have. We're on our way. What was that about an air reading?'

'Well, there's a slight disagreement about that,' Sally said cautiously, 'but the upshot is that I say we have more than Spock says we have. Taking everything into consideration, I suspect we ought to go with Spock's estimate. Which does not make me very happy.'

'Why not, Sally?'

'Because according to Spock we only have an hour's worth left… what? Oh, my mistake. Fifty six point three five minutes. And Spock is hurt.'

'Hurt?' McCoy said. 'How?'

'He was stabbed. I've stopped the bleeding but it's quite a deep wound.'

'I'll have a medical team standing by,' Kirk said, holding up seven fingers to Sulu, who nodded. 'We're increasing speed now. What about you?'

'At maximum speed now. See you soon, Jim. Kilsyth out.'

''Enterprise' out, ' Kirk said, to empty static.

Sally's slender fingers rested on the communications switch for some seconds after she had broken the connection, as if in some way the fragile connection could bring her closer to the 'Enterprise' and safety. Then she leaned back in her chair and stole a glance at Spock. He had risen superbly to the occasion in spite of his pain and without his help Sally, for all of her bravado, could not have kept the little ship flying and on course.

'So,' she said. ' They won't get here in time, will they? This is how it ends. Funny. I always assumed I'd go out with a bang, not a whimper.'

'Elliot,' Spock said instantly. Into the short silence that followed, he asked diffidently, 'Are you afraid, Sally?'

'What, of dying? I don't think so. To die… will be an awfully big adventure.'

Spock was unable to place the quote this time. Sally laughed.

'Not quite as well-versed in Earth literature as you thought? I'll lend you the book, if we get out of this.' She un-strapped herself and stood up.

'Hold the fort, Spock. I'm going to take another look in the back.'

'For what?' Spock wanted to know.

'Something. Anything. Aren't you the one who says there are always alternatives?'

Yes, he had said it. And the longer he lived, the fewer alternatives there seemed to be.

He turned to watch Sally, ignoring the pain the movement caused him. He could see her only in glimpses, scrabbling cheerfully through every locker, every shelf, every cupboard the small craft possessed. Her feet were bare (she had discarded her impractical heels some time ago), her dress was spattered with blood, there were bruises on her arms and legs and her hair was in chaos. Her movements were quick and decisive and her eyes gleamed, cat-like, through the shadows of the half-light. She had never looked more beautiful to him.

No, Sally was not afraid of death. She would hold it at bay with every weapon she possessed but in the moment when surrender was unavoidable, she would accept her defeat quietly and with her own unique dignity.

Spock thought back to a conversation with McCoy which had taken place many years – and many light-years – away from this place. He recalled it still with vivid clarity.

"Do you know why you're not afraid of dying, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Every day you stay alive is one more day you might slip – and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity! You wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling!"

That was the first time McCoy's needling had managed to penetrate the Vulcan mask – and the first time he had seen he had done it.

Well, that was a long time and many layers of friendship ago. Spock had chosen his Vulcan path and not regretted it. Yet, there were times when the human had wondered. More than wondered.

There had been Kirk, unashamedly emotional in every area of his life, yet using those emotions to hone his command to a fine edge, using them to push himself beyond the limits of endurance and logic to win through time and time again against impossible odds, odds that Spock himself would have yielded to had it not been for Kirk. Kirk, who laughingly admitted to his mistakes, teasing Spock into humour with his sly grin and frank acknowledgement of his imperfections. Kirk, winning hearts all over the galaxy, commanding the respect and affections of his entire crew – and his First Officer.

There had been McCoy, finest doctor in the fleet and possibly beyond, goading Spock accurately with sharp flashes of insight that logic alone would never have allowed him to see, and arousing in Spock conflicting feelings of gratitude and resentment.

And for the last few years, there had also been Sally.

She had taught him more than he had thought could exist in the spectrum of human variation. Sally, loving her way through her life and the galaxy, scattering her favours with a complete lack of discrimination, caring without possessiveness, without envy and always with utter understanding. He had seen her guide many lovers into the arms of women more suited to them and happily rejoice in the result, which was contrary to all human ideas of love as Spock understood them.

Morally, Spock held no opinions one way or the other. After all, Sally's body was hers to do with as she pleased and years of observing Kirk's romantic encounters had inured him to most of the peculiarities of human sexuality. But Sally seemed to use her gift not to find love for herself, but for others. He suspected she had convinced herself that she would never love again and that she would resist the thought that she could; it was her one blind spot.

'Look what I found,' Sally said. She came back into the main cabin, a heavy blue cylinder floating in the air behind her. She snapped it upright beside him and said, 'I think this is oxygen. Shall we toss for which of us is going to be the guinea-pig?'

In the first place, I do not believe either of us has a coin to toss. In the second, both of us will die in any case if that is not oxygen.'

'I do admire your ability to so clearly state the choices,' Sally retorted, not in a tone of amusement. Before he could stop her, she had broken the seal on the mouthpiece and slipped it between her lips. All logic aside, he would still have preferred the first breath to have been his.

Sally expelled air noisily through her nostrils, crossed the fingers on both of her hands, winked at Spock and drew in a lungful of what was in the cylinder.

A few seconds went by.

'Well,' said Sally, freeing her mouth for the more important business of speech, 'since I haven't turned purple or fallen choking to the deck, one must logically assume this is, in fact, oxygen…'

'You are making admirable progress towards rational thinking,' Spock told her.

Kirk joined McCoy in Sickbay, wondering what the hell he was doing there. There was nothing in the galaxy he wanted less than to listen to McCoy pontificate on his captain's psychology, but something other than his will had urged him to agree to McCoy's peremptory demand for a meeting.

'Is the medical team ready?' he asked as he stepped through the doorway.

'Standing by in the hangar deck. Has Sally said how badly he's hurt?'

'Sally hasn't used the link. I know neither of them are dead. And that's all I do know.'

'You resent it, don't you?' McCoy said calmly. 'You resent the fact you can't do anything but wait. You resent it that she could go after him when you couldn't.'

'Yes, I do,' Kirk said, with a strong sense of relief that the truth was out. 'So help me, Bones, I came close to hating Sally today… Why? Why now? I should be glad there's someone else who can help us both if we're in trouble. I have been glad of it, in the past. This time, I just feel useless. She made me feel like I wasn't necessary.'

'There's more to it than that,' McCoy retorted. 'It's happened, hasn't it?'

'What has?'

'Sally's realised she's in love with Spock. And you know she has.'

'I thought – maybe,' Kirk admitted, taking a pace or two around the office. 'But, even if that were so, why should it make a difference?'

'How can it not make a difference?' McCoy demanded. 'Jim, ever since Sally came back on board, there has been the three of you – because you wanted it that way. Spock accepted her for your sake long before he accepted her himself. All the way, the situation has been under your control.

'And now, the balance of the relationship has shifted. She stands at Spock's side, and by his choice. Not because you want it, but because they have both decided that's where she belongs. She will always love you. But she isn't yours any longer.'

'She was never mine,' Kirk pointed out.

'Not romantically. How often have you said 'My Sally'? How often have you thought it? You alone commanded her, and she always obeyed you. Are you sure she would now?'

'I don't think I've ever been sure of it,' Kirk said, attempting to inject some humour into a situation which was threatening to become intolerable. 'Bones, I knew there might come a time when Spock or I formed a relationship with a woman that was more than transient. I have thought about that. What it would mean. Ever since we had that conversation, I wondered what it would mean if the woman was Sally. I thought it might be best if the woman was Sally.'

'And now that it is? What now, Jim?'

There was a silence. Then Kirk looked up at him and grinned, the old, devil-may-care grin that had got him out of trouble on more than one occasion in the past.

'There will still be three, Bones. Four,' he added reaching for McCoy's shoulder. 'We'll see it through the way we always have done. Together. Nothing will change that.'

'Good,' McCoy responded, returning the clasp.

Now that the air had gone in the shuttle, it was very, very cold. Sally had found some blankets and in the end they sat huddled together in one chair, passing the mouthpiece between them like divers in trouble on the sea-bed.

-This is running out too, Spock-

-I am aware of it-

-How long before Jim gets here?-

-Twelve minutes, seventeen seconds, by my calculations-

-Will it last?-

-I think not-

She sensed the resolve in him before he even had time to think it, and moved closer to him, putting her free arm tightly around his shoulders.

-Do not get noble on me, Spock. It will be both of us, or neither-

-It would enable you to survive until the 'Enterprise' arrives-

-And watch you die in front of me? Never gonna happen-

-You would prefer that we watch each other die?-

-Both of us – or neither-

He said nothing more, but she knew that he took less and less oxygen each time the mouthpiece passed between them. She rested her head on his shoulder. She knew that she ought to say something, anything, to let him know how much he meant to her but she suspected that now, of all times, he would keep the Vulcan persona intact.

It had not taken Sally long to discover the secret Christine Chapel kept hidden beneath her brisk and professional behaviour. Her initial reaction had been unsympathetic, for she told herself she had no patience for lost causes; she now realised it was because rejection was something she had never experienced. Anyone she had ever wanted, she had, as Kirk said, just by lifting a finger.

But she was not sure of Spock. She was certainly not sure that, even if he did care for her, he would ever admit to it. Past history would seem to suggest otherwise…

She drew the last breath of air from the cylinder and lifted her face towards his.

-Spock…-

And thus it was the beams from the 'Enterprise' found them.

Kirk had been prepared to meet Sally with a blistering tirade but the readings from the shuttle had effectively banished any such intention. He gave instructions to beam Spock and Sally aboard as soon as they were in range rather than wait for the shuttle to dock, and arrived in the transporter room in a state of cold fear.

'Locking on to them now, sir,' Scott said.

Kirk turned towards the platform eagerly. Spock and Sally took shape slowly, almost hidden under the blanket, so still that Kirk thought for one awful moment they must both be dead. As the medical team rushed forward, Spock moved and began to draw in deep draughts of air. Sally disentangled herself and hauled herself unsteadily to her feet.

'Hi, Cap'n Jim,' she croaked.

'You stupid bloody woman,' he said, his voice shaking, 'what the hell did you think you were playing at?'

'Whatever it was, I don't think I want to play it again in a hurry,' said Sally with a lop-sided grin, as she fell into his arms and a dead faint.

She woke again in Sickbay and for the first few seconds was only aware of how warm and comfortable she was. Then memory returned and she sat bolt upright, saying, 'Spock?'

'No, you don't, young woman,' McCoy commanded, coming over and thrusting her legs back under the coverlet. 'You're staying right where you are.'

'Where's Spock?' Sally demanded, succumbing to these ministrations with a bad grace.

'Right behind you.' McCoy jerked a laconic thumb in that direction. Sally turned her head to see Spock regarding her quizzically from the next bed.

'How are you?' she asked.

'He's absolutely fine,' McCoy snapped. 'Whaddya take me and M'Benga for? If we couldn't patch up that tiny scratch between us…'

'I am quite well,' Spock told her gravely. 'And you?'

'Nothing wrong with me but wounded vanity,' she reminded him, with a grin that slipped a little. She eyed McCoy from under lowered lids and asked in a small voice, 'Is Jim very angry?'

'Angry? Oh, no,' McCoy retorted, in a tone loaded with sarcasm. 'Boiling mad and worried sick, maybe, but not angry. Nothing so damn simple,' he added, almost to himself.

'Ah,' said Sally. 'I was afraid of that… I don't suppose you could arrange for me to be terminally ill until he calms down again?'

'No, he could not,' Kirk said, coming into Sickbay in time to hear this last remark. Sally sought immediate refuge under the bedcovers.

'Come out of there,' Kirk snapped, exasperated. 'Anyone would think I was going to beat you.'

'Are you?' Sally asked, emerging by inches.

'It's an almost irresistible temptation, believe me.'

'Corporal punishment was outlawed on sailing vessels some centuries ago, however,' Spock commented.

'I am so terribly glad,' Sally said hollowly.

Kirk threw his First Officer a look which said, quite plainly, 'Keep out of this.' McCoy wondered whether he should absent himself but, receiving no dismissal from Kirk, stayed exactly where he was.

'You,' Kirk said to Sally, 'are without doubt the most disobedient, wilful and perverse female it has ever been my misfortune to meet. What in God's name possessed you to go off like that?'

The words 'without me' hung in the air between them like frost.

'There wasn't time to wait for you.' Sally, of course, sensed the root of the problem straight away.

There wasn't even time to think. Anyway, you didn't tell me not to.'

'Don't try and split hairs with me. Did it occur to you that you might be jeopardising Spock? My ship?'

'Captain…' Spock began.

'Shut up, Spock,' McCoy drawled out of the corner of his mouth.

'Well, of course it occurred to me!' Sally sat bolt upright on the bed with her eyes beginning to flash. 'I admit it was a stupid, dangerous thing to do, but I would do it again like a shot if I had to. I would have gone after you, too, has that crossed your mind? You know I can't be rational if you or Spock are in danger, so if you're going to court-martial me for being myself then just go right ahead and see if I care!'

'There is no question of that, so let us have no histrionics,' Kirk said cuttingly. 'The minute McCoy certifies you fit for duty, I'm putting you on a double work shift. That ought to cure your exuberance.'

'For sure,' Sally muttered, casting a relieved, if slightly resentful, look up at him. 'Jim…'

Kirk, with a sigh, reached out and ruffled her curls. Maintaining discipline with Sally had always been a problem and he was aware that the times he had allowed her to go her length made his present behaviour even stranger. He said,

'You had us all very worried. Don't do it again.'

'Hmmm,' said Sally in non-committal tone, which sounded distinctly unrepentant to Kirk. He eyed her suspiciously and Spock said hastily,

'What is the situation concerning the Ujentan ship, Captain?'

'Better than it might have been,' Kirk replied, with a glance at Sally which suggested this was small thanks to her. 'Fei seems to have brought the Vice-President round to her point of view. She sent a message a few minutes ago apologising for the… inconvenience. Bones, unpeel yourself from that wall and give me an update on your patients' condition.'

'I recommend a couple of days in bed for both of them, Jim,' McCoy said, winking at Sally.

'Whose side are you on?' Kirk complained, catching him at it.

'Everybody's,' McCoy said dryly. 'Stop making it so difficult and beat it so my patients can get some well-earned…' he caught Kirk's satirical expression and amended, 'much needed rest.'

'Right,' Kirk said, clearly unimpressed. Sally hurtled off the bed in a tangle of long legs and hair, hugged him enthusiastically, whispered, 'I'm sorry, Jim,' and then retired back under the covers, assuming the expression of an injured saint. Kirk found himself grinning at her before he could help himself.

'That's better,' McCoy said, in a tone of satisfaction. 'C'mon, Jim, I've got a prescription for you in my office. No talking, you two.'

They left together and the door hissed quietly shut behind them. Sally expelled her breath in a long sigh and said, 'I am so glad that's over. Spock, are you really okay?'

'I believe I am fully operational, Miss Kilsyth.'

'So it would appear,' Sally retorted. She turned her head to find him regarding her with the expression which was usually the closest he ever came to showing amusement, one eyebrow on the rise, the mouth just slightly more relaxed than usual. She had seen that expression many times before.

'Oh my God,' was what she thought now, 'I am so deeply in the shit.'

In McCoy's office, Kirk was saying,

'Bones, its time I did some matchmaking of my own.'

'You?' McCoy snorted. 'Subtlety is what we need here, and, with the greatest of respect, Jim, with you the words 'Klingon' and 'battle-axe' spring immediately to mind.'

'Which is why I'm asking you,' Kirk pointed out. 'Any ideas?'

'Strange that you should mention it,' McCoy said. 'As it happens, I do…'

28