Chapter 11 - Influence

It was early morning. Spock had meditated the entire night. "Mother, I have need of your advice."

Despite the hour, he found her at work in the small back office of the embassy that had been set aside for her use. She stood looking over a gift box that had been assembled for a visiting dignitary, a duty that none of the Vulcan staff could be entrusted with.

She smiled with a brightening of her eyes. "There is only one topic I can think of in which I can be of use to you."

Spock clasped his hands before himself. "Indeed. Although this is more complicated than the last."

"How did the previous advice work out?"

"It worked well, Mother. I perhaps should have informed you of the outcome."

"I had a suspicion from you demeanor." She stepped back from her task, copied his posture. "But I am pleased to hear it, nonetheless." When he hesitated, she said, "And now?"

"I need your advice in how to best approach a related difficulty. As you are likely aware, or might expect, it is forbidden for ranking Starfleet members to be involved with Academy students. There is a exemption procedure for existing relationships that is open before one is accepted into the Academy. James attempted to register under this rule and discovered that, as far as Starfleet Academy is concerned and perhaps the Federation itself, I am not of the age of consent."

She tilted her head, eyes widening. "Oops." She masked her amusement. "They don't acknowledge your human development?"

"No. I am given no credit for it."

She touched the monitor on the desk and put herself on Sarek's calendar later in the morning. She said, "Do you want to go to breakfast together? We can speak to your father after."

"We?"

Her eyes grew bright again. The human penchant to find amusement in this topic was aggravating enough to take Spock further out of his control.

Her voice was gentle, which made it more aggravating. "Spock, I can be your advocate on this topic, but not in abstentia."

"I see."

Spock remained quiet during breakfast at the gourmet pancake shop around the corner from the embassy. He was dreading the meeting with his father. It would be full of proper Vulcan evasion of the actual topic, although the alternative of frankness loomed even more horrifying. The topic had not been even remotely referred to by his father since the failure of his second betrothal bond. His father's resignation at that time had left Spock bereft. He would have preferred anger, even punishment. Instead he'd been given up on. That was the state he returned to when he imagined reopening the topic.

"Spock?"

Spock had been moving his fork around in the syrup without eating. "I am not in need of sustenance."

"Trust me, Spock. You'll be better once the conversation is over with."

Spock felt defensive and rather than speak, closed his eyes to center himself. It didn't work as well as it had been. There was indeed still pain there and it was right beneath him now. He had made James vulnerable. And he was about to upset his father simply by forcing the topic to be discussed. But he had outward control of his emotions, which still felt like a gift.

Spock nodded.

The restaurant was divided into heavily padded booths, making it possible to speak in private as voices were kept low and there were only humans nearby.

Spock said, "What do you expect Father's reaction will be?"

"I honestly don't know. But I feel I can steer the conversation as painlessly as possible."

"I hope that is true."

"Sometimes I am surprised by your father's insight into someone's motives when he has only spoken with him or her once and other times I am surprised by his inability to see below the surface of those around him all the time. I do not know what he knows, or suspects about James. He has, of course, not spoken of you and James in personal terms."

"I appreciate your assistance, Mother. But perhaps it is unwise to have your help when I wish to argue that I am old enough to file a Basic Partner Registration as an adult."

"In Vulcan society an advocate is the norm for this topic. One never speaks on their own behalf. It is too difficult to construct the proper remote formal language."

"I see." Spock thought back to negotiations for his betrothal bondings. "I did not realize that was the norm. I assumed I was a special case."

"You are a special case, Spock, by your very nature. But not in that particular way." She sat back and considered him. Sighed. "I am pleased you have found someone to be close to, especially someone as kind as James seems to be. I would not have you be alone, Spock." She stopped abruptly to regain control and straightened her silverware, put her napkin more neatly in her lap.

Spock kept his attention on his plate until her emotions were under control. They would both be better once the meeting was over, no matter how it turned out.

Sooner than he wished, Spock stood just behind and to the side of his mother in his father's office. The embassy had been built and decorated by human contractors so the office was high and imposing, with a shiny grand maroon wooden desk and wall trim. It was far outside Vulcan aesthetics, but it had the proper impact on most all other visitors.

Sarek remained sitting. "I suppose it is a measure of the activity at present that you were forced to put yourself on my calendar."

"I don't mind doing so," Amanda said. "But do need to preface our discussion with a warning that it is of a deeply personal nature."

Sarek sat back, loosely steepled his fingers together. He looked Spock over and turned back to Amanda.

Amanda said, "Spock had requested that you not interfere with his Starfleet application, and indeed he still holds to that, but . . ." Here she switched to the most formal Vulcan possible. " . . . he has need of administrative assistance of another nature, related to the former."

"Indeed?" Sarek sounded less annoyed and more intrigued, like a person finding themselves more in their element than expected.

Amanda straightened, breathed deeply. "Your son wishes to register as personally affiliated with James Kirk before becoming a Cadet, specifically to file a Basic Partner Registration, but the Academy will not allow it." The Standard words stood out like slaps in the middle of the Vulcan.

Sarek looked between them. "And the reason given?"

"Spock is not considered by the Academy to be old enough to be so engaged."

His father thought a moment, also switched to formal Vulcan. "I assume they are using Vulcan's rules. But they should not apply to you. My wife, what is your assessment of James Kirk as appropriate companionship?"

Amanda spoke through forcing down a smile. "He is fine companionship."

"Do you estimate that Spock is on equal footing with him?"

Amanda looked at Spock, who nodded, resumed staring at the floor.

Sarek continued to sit back, looking between them. "I will take care of it."

Spock lifted his head as if just waking up. He didn't move right away. He needed to understand and was failing to. He bowed his head to hide his shock and remained by the desk while Amanda departed. She gave him a curious look as she closed the door.

Spock kept his language as formal as he could while speaking directly about himself. "I am curious, if it is allowed?"

"Curiosity is almost always allowed. To some degree."

Spock almost didn't speak, but he imagined facing Kirk's own curiosity in his current ignorant state and said, "In that case, I am curious why you are acquiescing so easily."

"I have logical reasons."

Spock said, "I was concerned it was the same reason you acquiesced to my joining Starfleet."

There was a long pause. "No. It is not."

Spock spoke to the floor out of respect. "I regret taking advantage of your mood in that matter."

"It was my choice. It is a not illogical fit for you based on your background and skills. I previously overlooked the amount of science Starfleet conducts and trust that you have the backbone to see to it you do not let your work further the development of any means of destruction."

"Of course," Spock said.

"I am also relieved that you have not simply asked to marry James Kirk."

"I do not think either of us has considered that."

"Warn me if you do, please."

Spock resumed his humble pose. "Of course, Father."

Sarek sat forward. "Tell Skeun to collect T'Urun in an hour. I have need of their intimidating presences."

Spock risked raising his left brow. "I will do so."

"Anything else?"

"No. My gratitude, Father."

Spock departed, feeling light, but uncertain, partly due to how unexpected a state it was.

Vice Admiral Justin, Superintendent of Starfleet Academy, frowned at his receptionist when the man informed him that rather than prepare for a meeting of the board that afternoon, he had a visitor that could not be put off.

The receptionist handed him a padd with an applicant's record already pulled up on it and said that he would let the visitors in. This wasn't proper protocol. The admiral determined when people were let into his office.

It had been a long week. Orientation always seemed to overlap with move out, at least by several days. And the departing upperclassmen were always pulling something designed to make the entire academy look like it lived at the whims of a few hooligans.

An imposing figure in heavy robes decorated with a scrolling language down the lapels entered the office, flanked by two Vulcans with severe haircuts that accentuated their features, one of each sex, tall. They wore the usual impartial expression of their race, but on these two the expression seemed to thinly veil a desire for fate to bring about circumstances requiring a demonstration of a martial art. But that was probably Justin's tired imagination.

The receptionist had told him a name and title, he remembered it just before it slipped from short term memory.

"Ambassador Sarek." Then added wryly, "And company."

The leading, older figure nodded. How was it that humble politeness could exude such a sense of controlling everything around it?

"You'll forgive me. I've just been handed this," Justin said.

"Please," the figure gestured at the padd.

Justin scanned it quickly. He'd seen thousands of these over the years. This one was in the top few percentile, the interviews all recommended accept. But at the bottom was an addition noted by someone in this very office indicating that special reviews from Security and Federation Intelligence were forthcoming and the application was on hold.

"What can I assist you with?" Justin asked.

"My son has applied for your academy, but he has run into a paperwork difficulty."

Justin waved the padd. "I'm afraid you are in the wrong office. I can't help you with Intel or Security if they want to interrogate your son. That requirement isn't determined by this office."

"If he is deemed in need of a security review for his past decisions, that is my son's problem. Spock made his choices and, where he makes his choices, I will not protect him from the consequences. The difficulty I am bringing to you is outside of his control. It concerns your organization's definition of age of consent. He is only half Vulcan but has been classified as maturing as a full Vulcan would. That is inaccurate in his case and needs to be rectified."

"How old is he?" Justin looked down as he said this, realizing it was a stupid question given what he was holding.

"He is nineteen earth years old," Sarek patiently replied. "Close to twenty."

"Sounds old enough to me." Justin scrolled the application. "His test scores are at the top of the scale so he certainly is intelligent enough to be responsible for himself. And he is one of only two candidates in history that old Captain Ironsides Chanel has ever given a highly recommend to." Justin stared at that five star code, wondered if it could be a data entry error, pulled up her notes which were: "Polite as hell, articulate to the point of annoyance, socially aware, knows what he's getting into, tough but kind despite mistreatment, over-qualified, we could put him on a ship tomorrow."

Justin paged his receptionist. "Call down to PRC and have them recode the applicant ID you just gave me as an adult across the board. Verify the change before you get off the horn with them."

Sarek said, "Can you also expedite the filing of a Basic Partner Registration paired with the following Starfleet ID?" He recited an ID number.

"Oh, is that what this is about?" Justin found himself smiling, possibly because no matter what far flung planet or race cadets hailed from they all were at the age where they wanted the same thing. As much drama and chaos as it caused, there was a funny reassurance in that. "Yes, we can have them do that. Both parties will have to sign it before it's official, but we can put it into the system."

The receptionist broke in on the intercom. "PRC is refusing to file the status change citing Vulcan cultural restrictions."

"Tell PRC I have the Vulcan ambassador, the applicants father-one in the same, by the way-in front of me, requesting the change."

"Where is this office?" Sarek asked with that factual humbleness that spoke of restrained power winding up to strike.

Justin said to the intercom, "And tell them I'm sending the ambassador over there if PRC doesn't comply. If the boy's father doesn't object to the status change there is no reason for some desk jockey down there to object. It's not like they have any precedent to back up their refusal."

Justin typed in the Starfleet ID number before he forgot it. It pulled up one Lt. Commander James T Kirk, presently assigned to the USS Ranger. He double checked he'd entered it correctly.

Justin buried his reaction and turned the padd around. "Is this the other individual?"

The ambassador glanced down, nodded.

The receptionist stepped into the office. "PRC has complied."

"Good, make them comply some more. Have them file a BPR with that ID and this one." He handed over the padd. The receptionist also hesitated upon seeing the record, then nodded and stepped out again.

The Intel review suddenly made sense. "Your son was on the Ranger during the battle. I saw those bridge logs. He was exemplary. He didn't even put that experience on his application and he should have."

Sarek said, "Spock has much to learn. He has been made fully aware of that."

Justin thought, I guess that's how you end up with that sense of restrained humble power. Never let the children believe they are good enough.

The receptionist brought in the padd with the Basic Personal Relationship registration file on it. Justin held it out to Sarek who glanced at it and nodded.

"Anything else I can do for you, Ambassador? Any way I can compel you to send us more Vulcan applicants for Starfleet?"

Sarek grew sedate, which clashed with his words. "I am curious if that attitude would be held among your peers, Admiral."

Justin rubbed his forehead. "I suppose it might not. I've been accused of seeking out good students, not necessarily good personnel. My openness to other races might be one reason for the criticism."

Sarek said, "If I might ask, off the record, which of your peers I should seek out for contact. The ones who would be most opposed to more Vulcans in Starfleet, that is."

Justin had the oddest sense that the Ambassador was speaking a roundabout untruth, but the question was certainly valid on the face of it. He sent his receptionist out of the room. "Off the record, I can think of several. Kowleski in Operations, Vice Admiral Pardo in Alpha Quadrant Coordination."

"Do you include Rear Admiral Pritchard in that list?"

Justin rubbed his eye, laughed uneasily. "I wouldn't have thought so. Why do you ask?"

"I am having difficulty setting up a meeting with him and was looking for an explanation."

"He may just be busy, but I wouldn't have thought him too busy for a meeting with you, Ambassador, given events. But I'm just the Super of the Academy, and not particularly attuned to what's going on in 'Fleet itself."

Sarek nodded. "I appreciate your assistance. And the source of my information will, of course, remain between us."

"I expected nothing less. And if your son clears any reviews requested by Intel or Security I fully expect he will be offered a place."

Sarek nodded again, once, like a shallow bow. He did not seem particularly pleased to hear this news. Justin decided he wasn't going to figure out this being before he departed from his office.

"If you need any help, or Spock needs anything-"

"Spock will have to do well on his own from here on. I will leave you to your duties, Admiral."

With another bow, the trio departed.

Spock traced James's communicator to the a raised trails criss-crossing Bear Island. Spock positioned himself where the boardwalks intersected. He spotted James at the edge of the bay, not jogging, but running full out. His outline moved up and down as it slid along above the railing, the silvery water, and the hazy hills across the bay behind him, hanging at an indeterminate distance. The wind pushed him and the other joggers along. Those going in the other direction were markedly slower.

Kirk came around the bend leading to the long straightaway off which Spock stood on a side deck marked for wildlife observation. Kirk slowed to a jog, then a walk for the last few steps. He bent over, hands on knees, wheezing.

"Are you quite all right?"

Kirk held up a hand, propped it back on his knee again, walked around a bit, hand pressed to his side. "What's up?" he managed to ask.

"I had something to show you. But I did not realize what a disruption I would cause in your exercise."

A pair of joggers pushing a stroller went by in a flash of hot pink and glowing lime yellow. Kirk leaned on the railing, still pressing a hand into the flesh just below his ribs. "It's okay."

Kirk took a few deep breaths and coughed. He stretched his back and stood straight, turned to give Spock his full attention. Spock pulled the padd from his large robe pocket and held it out.

Kirk took it, eyes going over the Basic Partner Registration. "That was fast."

"My father expedited it."

Kirk studied Spock now with the same intensity as he had the form. He did not look as pleased as Spock had expected.

Kirk said, "He's good at getting his way. I guess that's not a surprise."

"It needs your signature."

Kirk pulled the padd back, signed and fixed a thumbprint to the form and handed it back.

Spock said, "My father suggested that you come to dinner at the embassy. He realizes that he needs to get to know you better."

"I'm sure he does," Kirk said.

The sun came out, glinting on and through the fog. "I do not understand," Spock said. Kirk was suddenly as inscrutable as any Vulcan.

Kirk took another deep breath. Dark sweat stains colored his clothing where it stuck to him in the wind. "Yes, I'll come to dinner. I'd be pleased to see your mother again. Your father, I'm sure, is going to read me the riot act."

Spock tilted his head, slipped the padd away. "I did not get that sense."

Kirk pulled on the railing, put one foot up to stretch his back. Spock watched Kirk's familiar muscles shift over his bones, remembered the feel of them under his hands. After half a minute, Kirk stood straight again. Spock put himself back in the present and tried, but failed, to understand the logic that led to Kirk's conclusion about his father.

Kirk said, "I still think we should back off a bit."

Spock felt as if the boardwalk had shifted, the first jog of an earthquake only he experienced. "For what reason?"

Kirk approached, put his hands on Spock's arms and pushed him farther out of the way of joggers going by. "Because, despite the partial paperwork fix, I still messed up here."

Without intending to, Spock knocked Kirk's left arm away and grabbed it up by the wrist, firmly enough there was no way Kirk could break his hold. At Kirk's surprised expression, Spock let go.

Spock trembled, grew more alarmed at his trembling and stepped back against the rail to gain control of himself. He had control three seconds later, but worried at the source of the loss of it in the first place.

Kirk stepped close again. "Spock, I'm not suggesting limiting our friendship." His eyes searched Spock's face and kept searching. Spock had found full control and wasn't going to let it slip again.

"I do not understand your reasoning," Spock said, detached now.

"Look, let's talk about it later. I'm feeling uncomfortable, and probably overreacting. Okay?" He ran a hand through Spock's hair, rocked up on his toes and kissed him. A group jogged by while their lips were engaged.

Kirk rocked back to his heels. "Okay?"

Spock didn't know if he was okay because he didn't know what was happening to him. "I do not like this uncertainty."

"It's not uncertainty. I'll always be here for you."

Spock shook his head. "My father filed the paperwork. That does not impact your thinking?"

"Your father put up a fight over that?" Kirk asked, pointing at Spock's pocket.

"Only a symbolically formal one. It was unexpectedly easy."

"No, it wasn't. He's avoiding a scandal." Kirk sounded so certain of himself Spock couldn't dismiss his words outright, even though they didn't fit Spock's understanding.

"You truly believe that is the reason?"

"Yes. At least most of the reason. But we'll find out tonight at dinner." Kirk put a hand behind Spock's back and stepped out into the walking lane, kept it there as they went.

"I thought you'd be pleased," Spock said after a time.

Kirk spoke factually. "I am. I want to be with you and that filing certainly helps. I expect the Federation would take it as precedent and leave the issue be as well, under normal circumstances, that is."

"Circumstances are hardly normal at this time."

"I know."

"Did I act in error in encouraging my father to do this?"

Kirk thought for many seconds while Spock worried he was far out of his depth and had made a grievous mistake as a result.

Kirk said, "No. If someone wanted to use it against me, they'd have found out eventually. Having it out in the open has it's advantages." He hooked his arm through Spock's. "Come on. Let's get an ice cream and then go to the extraterrestrial aquarium or something. I need a distraction."