So next chapter. It is coming to a close rather quickly. I'm surprised myself. It should end sometime before the end of the summer. I'm thinking around another four chapters or so. This will make it the quickest story I've every written being completed in about five-six months. Just a Little Drink has about three-four chapters left as well. This should clear me up for Cardinal Rule and Deceptions Hidden in Blood. It will be nice to only have two stories again. For those who read all my stories (and I love you for it). Hopefully, it will be easier on you to follow two instead of four stories. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Next story to be updated will be JALD then CR most likely.
Jim tore off the top of his uniform before he even set foot into his apartment. The stiff red piece of cloth draped over his shoulder as he had two large cases of Bone's favorite bourbon in his hands. He would be lying if he said that he was hoping that Bones was home, but karma or lady luck or whatever other force in the universe that controlled the shit in his life didn't seem to give a flying fuck what he wanted. Bones apparently was running late to the clinic and was still home when he came through the front door.
Eying the cases and the silence on Jim's part, McCoy frowned deeply, possibly adding a few wrinkles around the corner of his mouth. "What happened?"
Jim stayed tight lip as he placed the cases on the counter and fished for the hard liquor they kept on top of the cabinets going straight for the 120 proof vodka. Popping the lid off the top with his thumb, he downed two large mouthfuls. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could pass out before the hundred questions from his roommate.
At this point, McCoy left to grab his comm. "Hey Christine, how many patients are on my rotation…do either of them need my attention? ... Get M'Benga to take over. I'll be out today. Call if something happens."
"Bones go to work," Jim reprimanded, glaring at the bottle in his hands as if it was its fault that his whole life turned upside down.
"You came home with two large cases of my favorite bourbon and took out our strongest alcohol and chugged it. Believe it or not kid, you're my responsibility until they pack us onto that tin can and ship us off into the cursed vacuum. Now tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting like and impatient father.
Jim took another sip from the bottle very slowly and with his eyes locked onto the doctor. "It's your winnings from the bet," he finally said.
"What bet?"
Jim just snorted before turning to see if they had anything stronger. He wasn't getting drunk nearly fast enough.
"Seriously, Jim, what the fuck happened with that admiral." McCoy pulled the bottle away from him. Funny, it was usually the other way around.
"Technically, I'm not supposed to say anything. It's classified." He snatched the bottle back.
"Then it's a good thing I practice doctor patient confidentiality."
At the doctor's, stern stance, Jim knew he wasn't going anywhere, much less to work, unless there was an emergency, until he got answers. Sometimes he hated Starfleet for assigning Bones, who was practically his personal psychologist.
"Fine, but nothing leaves this room." Jim moved to sit on the counter, ignoring the annoyed look the doctor shot at him.
"Promise. Now tell me what the hell happened."
Jim took a long slow breath. "Remember when I suspected Spock was an AI and you laughed and said why not an alien or something?"
"Yeah," the doctor said slowly. When Jim stared at him pointedly, McCoy said, "You're shitting me."
Jim took another swing from his bottle while his friend helped himself to his brand new stash of bourbon. "This ain't going to be nearly enough," he muttered in a thick southern accent.
"No shit."
McCoy drank from his bottle slower than Jim, calculating his next question. "So let me get this straight. You're boyfriend is an alien. And he created the head gear and game. Therefore, we have alien technology mucking around inside the head of millions of players worldwide."
Jim winced. It was making Marcus sound like he had a right to be so concerned, but Spock wouldn't hurt anyone right? "Yeah…something like that."
"Why do I have a sinking suspicion that that's not all of it?"
Jim swished the contents around in the bottle, watching the clear liquid make a small whirlpool. "They have reasons to believe that this new species is also telepathic."
"Shit. No wonder your brain scans were lit up like a Christmas tree. That good for nothing hobgoblin has been mucking around in there!"
Kirk said nothing, just staring at the bottle.
The silence coming from the young man was too quiet, especially for him. Toning down the theatrics, he placed the bourbon bottle down and asked, "What's wrong Jim? What are you not telling me?"
"You know, I should be mad. I should hate him for deceiving me and be worried that maybe he did mess with my head to make me feel this way, but I don't. I mean, I can understand why he wouldn't tell us. I mean, think about it. It could take a hundred years or more for our stuff to get to wherever he is. What if the first things they saw were movies like War of the Worlds or They Came from Outer Space? Movies that show how scared shitless we are of other cultures and new experiences. Could you blame them for not telling us and waiting to see what we're like before making contact?" Jim ran his hands through his hair roughly, gripping the short strands between his fingers.
"Or he could be making you feel that. Hell, what if he's in your head right now? We don't know much about telepathy or any of that mind mumbo jumbo," McCoy scowled, turning to the fridge to find something for them to eat so they weren't drinking on an empty stomach. "I want to get your brain scans too."
"Bones you don't…" Jim became increasingly frustrated as he tried to organize what exactly he wanted to say. Of course the doubt was there. He didn't want it to be, but wasn't it better for what was to come?
"Don't what Jim?"
"Just…Why does this shit happen to me? The first person I might be in lo─ very serious about and he turns out to be an alien who could or could not be in my head?! What the hell did I do to deserve this shit? And worse yet, I have to pretend I'm okay with this shit!" He jumped off the counter during his rant and was pacing the kitchen.
"You need to calm down, Kid."
"I am calm!"
At that moment, his PADD buzzed, redirecting his frustration from McCoy to the PADD. Angrily, he picked it up, jabbing his finger at the screen. Reading the message, he fell into a hysterical laugh, tossing it to his friend, so he could read it.
McCoy's finger's tightened around the piece of technology.
Jim, are you currently distressed?
"He knows," the older man said shakily. "He's in your head."
Jim's laugh died down, his eyes had gone cold and his body slumped, leaning against the counter. He wasn't even looking at his friend anymore. "You know. I think I knew he was. I thought it was my imagination, but sometimes I could swear I could feel him in the back of my head or know foreign words, but don't know what they mean or where I heard them from. Like the word t'hy'la. I've been dreaming of that word for weeks, but I could never find out what it meant. I even tried cross referencing it in every database I could think of. Maybe it's some code word that's supposed to make me his personal slave, and the sword he gave me is some beacon or something."
"So what is Starfleet going to do?"
The question made Jim turn away completely. He took another large gulp before answering, "I'm going to lure Spock to come to Earth alone so they can ask him about his intentions."
"You mean so they can capture him and interrogate him," Bones scoffed.
"He'll be fine," Jim answered automatically.
"You know that means torture. You can't be that stupid, kid."
"Starfleet does not acknowledge, endorse, and encourage acts of torture," Jim repeated the same words Marcus fed him earlier.
"That does not mean they don't do it, and you know it from experience. Jesus Christ , Kid, are you really going to go through with luring him into a trap?"
The bottle of vodka flew past Bone's head and into the wall, smashing and spilling its contents everywhere. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?! IT'S A FUCKING ORDER, BONES! I PLEDGED MY ALLEGIENCE TO THEM THE SAME AS YOU!" He shoved the man in front of him angrily. His PADD buzzed again.
His voice lowered dangerously as he got into his personal space again. "And don't you dare mention fucking Tarsus again. We had a deal." He took a few steps back. "Weren't you the one saying Spock was fucking with my head anyway?"
The doctor came over with the PADD, weary of the man's personal space, and showed him the messages.
You are not responding. Did something happen?
Jim if you are distressed, please respond promptly. At the very least, contact Dr. Horatio if you find me unsuitable to speak to.
I will contact Dr. Horatio if you refuse to respond.
Jim, I am worried…
"A bit excessive to send four messages in the span of four minutes, but he seems like he knows your freaking out."
"Yeah, seems like it. He even used the word worried," Jim sagged heavily onto the floor.
This time McCoy's communicator beeped with a message. "How the hell did he get my number?"
I'm fine, Spock. How did you know something was up?
"Spock's good with computers. He probably looked it up," Jim murmured.
It is difficult to explain further than "I had a feeling". Are you certain you are alright?
I will explain tomorrow. I just want to be alone right now.
As you wish. Do not hesitate to contact me if you change your decision, no matter the time.
"I'm heading to bed. I'll see you tomorrow." Jim stood up, grabbing another bottle of alcohol.
"Sure thing, kid."
He was grateful that the doctor didn't mention that it was only 2pm, but Jim had no plans to meet or speak to anyone else today. Hell, he felt like curling up into a ball with a tub of ice cream and liquor. He heard Bones cursing about something in the kitchen as he shut the bedroom door behind him.
He dropped himself into his desk chair, staring at the computer. Spock was an alien. It was still sinking in. And he was going to lead that alien to a fucking trap where Marcus would get his hands on him. What type of 21st century author wrote this piece of sci-fi shit. It wasn't even original.
He shouldn't feel as much guilt as he was. Where was the betrayal? The doubt?
Jim pulled up his e-mail account and opened the anonymous email he had received just before the royale. A picture of a red world and sands filled the screen. A le-matya laid beneath a rock alcove in the shade off in the distance and a small child stood by dressed in robes with a spear looking weapon in hand attempting to sneak up on it.
Jim had always wondered who had created the picture. It was so life like. While the game seemed real to his mind, it was the same concept as a dream. A dream felt real while you were having it, but waking up, you knew it for what it was. This picture of ShiKahr seemed so realistic, and he wondered who would have sent him such a thing in the first place.
Now he knew. Spock had sent it to him. The words Spock spoke to his mother in and the writing within ShiKahr was one in the same. The way Spock looked at I-Chaya with fondness and memory. The way Spock refused to refer to himself as human and always used terms like my world and my culture to disassociate himself from Jim. How he looked inside the game and out.
Spock never lied unless you count lying by omission, but even then, Spock seemed like he tried to tell him as much as possible. He felt warm when he was around the man, felt himself opening up and trusting him. He had been happier, and his friends had noticed. He did not believe Spock meant harm. Spock hated the idea of harming another life. It took a month for Spock to become comfortable hunting, finally conceding to Jim's logic that the creatures he was killing were not real. Spock was gentle and very kind. He was even a bit timid and shy around new people.
It didn't matter. He was under orders. He had to do what he was told. He swore his loyalty to Starfleet…and Starfleet was all that was going for him.
Jim stared at the picture again, briefly remembering Spock telling him about how young children were sent into the wilderness on their own. He wondered if the child in the picture was Spock or some other child.
The only peace I have found is in an artificial world I have created in order to learn of a world outside my own.
Spock's words rang back at him.
Jim cursed turning off the computer. He had to do what he had to do.
"Congratulations!" Jim's friends yelled loudly, clicking their glasses together inside Spock's home. Spock had given them special crystals to allow them to teleport into the city without having previously been there after suggesting that they celebrate in privacy. Jim had felt bad because Spock had previously wanted to talk to Jim about the design of the memorial he wanted to set up for his mother, but the alien claimed it was of no issue. He wanted to meet Jim's friends.
All his friends were there: Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, Bones, and Christine. It was a small group of friends and since meeting Spock, he had opened up a bit more and let them in. Uhura was an elf, with long, narrow, pointed ears, and gold eyes, her dark hair was still long and her skin complexion a bit lighter and the color of milk chocolate. She was very beautiful with the skimpy elf apparel and a bit jealous that she was practically draped over a dwarf Scotty, with red hair and an obscenely long and braided beard. No one that beautiful should be hanging onto something like that. Then again…
Spock was drawing attention to himself in his own elven attire. His was much more regal with the long flowing robes of midnight blue and gold trimming. He wore his silver crown and hairpiece accenting his dark features. He was breath taking. Everything about him screamed importance and royalty. His dark eyes turned to him at his stare, and a small smirk pulled at the alien's lips.
Jim's heart stopped, and he couldn't breathe. He took back what he said about Uhura. He wanted this man to drape himself all over him.
The smirk was reassuring as well. Spock had been very stiff being surrounded by all his friends asking him question after question. He had only relaxed when he managed to start conversing with Scotty about his warp theory. Jim had never seen the engineer look so happy, finally finding someone who was as smart as he was in his field, probably smarter if Spock really was an alien from a culture who had already figured out warp who knows how long ago.
"You know, you kind of look like royalty. Something you're not telling me. Spock?" Jim grinned, sliding into the conversation and cutting Scotty off, ignoring the dwarf's glare.
Spock's eyes looked amused. "My family is very influential. My lineage is the direct descendant from the founder of our society, Surak. We still follow his traditions today."
Jim's eyes went wide. "Hold on one moment. Your father is a diplomat, and your ancestor is the founder of…your royalty?!"
"We do not have a monarchy. We have a council. Though my grandmother is head of the council, it is not an inherited position." Both him and now Scotty were staring at him in shock.
Spock was rich with an influential father and grandmother. That was pretty much royalty in his book.
"That's really interesting." Jim tensed as he felt the presence behind him, hating that voice. The person was female, a pretty petite blonde, with hazel eyes. "What's your father's name," the girl asked full of fake politeness."
"I do not believe we've met," Spock grew tense and for good reason.
"My name is Carol," the woman said and Jim snorted lightly. That man had no shame.
"Miss Carol, my father values his privacy and does not wish for me to disclose his information with those I do not know."
The woman's mouth tightened. "Sorry, I was just curious about you. I didn't know it was a secret."
"It is not a secret," Spock corrected. "I respect my father's wish for privacy."
"Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you." The woman moved away and Jim had lost his smile. Damn Marcus.
"I do not recall you mentioning a Carol among your list of friends Jim."
"She's new," he lied, looking down.
In the corner of his eye, McCoy kept giving him worried looks, and he knew what he was trying to tell him, but it had to be done.
"Spock, I need to talk to you," Jim whispered. Despite the quiet of his voice and the loud commotion around them with the music and dancing, he knew Spock had heard him.
"Of course." Spock led them upstairs to the outdoor balcony. "Are you enjoying the party Jim?"
"Yeah, it looks like everyone is having fun. I've never seen Scotty enjoy himself so much."
Spock nodded his approval. "I am relieved to hear you say that."
"What do you mean?"
Spock wandered to the railing, looking over the city. "You've been upset since yesterday. I am gratified that you are in better spirits." Spock looked back at him and Jim's heart sank. Why did he have to look at him like that? With so much gentleness and fondness.
"Spock…I have to ask you something."
"I will answer any inquiries you have if I am able," Spock said.
Jim looked him square in the eye. "Spock, are you an alien?"
The question obviously threw Spock off his guard, surprise written all over his face. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "I am not certain─"
"Don't lie to me Spock. Tell me the truth, are you not human?"
Spock looked hesitant as he answered, "Affirmative. I am not human."
Jim nodded.
"You are extremely calm about this." Spock sounded uneasy.
"I had since yesterday to think about it." Jim said.
Realization dawned on his face. "It is what has upset you." Spock closed off in a heartbeat, his expression reserved.
"It was definitely a surprise, but it wasn't what upset me. Quests like The Enterprise Incident upset me." Jim noticed Spock grow stiff and felt satisfaction course through him. Good. He knew. "Look Spock, your mom is alive."
"Human humor often escapes me," he said coldly.
"I'm serious Spock. Look, Starfleet knows that your mom wasn't human. They captured her and faked her death. They're keeping her in a holding cell. I want to get her out . . . but I'm going to need your help. I can't do it on my own, and I can't trust anyone to help me. The admiral in charge of everything is paranoid, and I don't know who's working for him and who's not.
"I need you to come to Earth. . . I don't know what else to do, Spock. I'm going against Starfleet. It's the only thing I have going for me, and I can't do this by myself." He was pacing, too anxious to stay still. Was this going to work?
"Jim," Spock grabbed his arm, making his stop and look at him. "We will figure out something," he whispered. "I will come. Just tell me where to meet you."
"San Francisco, California," he sighed. "Just tell me wherever you decide to land or however you guys travel, and I will come meet you to pick you up."
"I will do so." Spock took a step away. "Shall we continue with your promotion party?"
All Jim could do was nod. They both headed back inside, tension thick between them. Both were surprised to see Sarek downstairs standing awkwardly off to the side. Catching sight of them, the older man's brow quirked up at Spock's attire, and Spock became rigid out of embarrassment.
"My son, I was unaware that you had guests." The older Vulcan made his way to them, his gaze flickering to Jim. "Tiberius, we have yet to formally make an introduction. I am Sarek, Spock's father."
Jim noted that like Spock, the man did not offer to shake hands. "Call me Jim. Spock's told me a lot about you." It felt awkward to look at this man and know that he was an alien. For some reason, it was easier to swallow than believing Spock was. Sarek just seemed unreal with his lack of emotion and the demeanor he presented to others. Still, the man had lost his wife and even Jim could see that the news took a toll on the man.
"Likewise, Spock speaks very fondly of you. He has spent 47.45 hours speaking of you over the past 94 days."
Spock looked off to the side, trying to feign interest in Sulu's fencing demonstration.
"That's not too bad I guess," he laughed nervously.
Sarek lifted an eyebrow. "My son no longer resides in my residence, and I speak to him once a week for approximately 3.2 hours. Over a 90 day period, I have only been in my son's presence for 36.74 hours."
It was Jim's turn to blush, turning to look at Spock who thankfully decided to change the subject. "What brings you here, Father?"
The older man stared at Jim for a few seconds longer before addressing Spock. "I have something I wish to discuss with you."
It must have been important for him to come into the game. "Will upstairs be amendable to you?
Sarek inclined his head and followed his son upstairs. He was curious and wanted to follow and listen in, but Scotty managed to drag him off. "What are ye doin' sittin' in the corner of yer special party?" The Scottish man grinned, stroking his beard. "Or did ya want to have a little romantic tryst with yer elf. I can entertain the masses while yer away."
A cocky grin made its way onto his face. "I'm fine Scotty. Why don't we move the party to my place? Get some real scotch and whiskey."
"Now yer talking my language, Cap'n."
Scotty rounded up his friends, making the plans to head over to the apartment and grab food on the way.
Jim looked up the stairs, wondering what those two could possibly be talking about, when a delicate hand slapped his shoulder.
"Good work, son," Carol said smiling.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," his said through thin lips. He was not in the mood to be touched.
"We'll talk in the morning." It wasn't too soon when the "woman" removed her hand from his shoulder. When he took off his helmet, he knew he'd awaken to the smell of antiseptic in the medbay surrounded by doctors and officers. They wanted to make sure Spock didn't manipulate him, or that he didn't try something. Marcus was no fool. He knew that he had been close to Spock. He wouldn't take a chance for Jim to betray him.
Jim couldn't even relax when the petite woman logged out.
"Jim, are you okay?" Uhura asked, frowning. "You've been quiet all night so I have to assume you've suffered another head injury."
Even with the shot at his intelligence, the notion of concern was appreciated. He gave her a lazy grin. "Just because I was shit faced drunk and got a concussion the first time I met you doesn't mean, I do that every night. Just every other night. And it just so happens, it's my night off."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Get a life Kirk."
"Only if you're in it," he teased, making her roll her eyes again. It was ritual to give her a bad pick up line once a day. A ritual he was quite fond of despite the cheesiness of it all. It was how he won her friendship after all once she realized he wasn't being serious about any of it anymore.
He ensured that they all left, before leaving himself. Hopefully, Spock would contact him.
He paced in front of the San Francisco Bay boardwalk. Granted it was 3 am and most clubbers and junkies had called it a night, and it was early enough for early risers to not be out and about, but there was always a chance to be caught, and he was paranoid. He constantly checked his PADD for a message. It was the only way Spock could communicate with him without Starfleet knowing. Spock had given him a replacement PADD with the computer, and he had yet to register it for his classes, and he had not yet connected his Starfleet information and accounts to it, so they did not know about it. Hopefully, Spock was aware of it too.
Just as Jim was seriously considering just screwing the whole mission, his communicator rang. He cursed, answering it. What was Spock thinking?
"This is the commander of the Romulan warship. You have entered the neutral zone without authorization from the Romulan government. Tiberius, defender of Sol, do you acknowledge that you have indeed violated that treaty amongst the humans and the Romulans."
Jim froze, his mind trying to understand what was going on. Slowly, his mouth turned into a devilish smirk. Two weeks ago, he had discussed what humans had called role playing, where players would mix the virtual world with the real world with phone calls or messages from fictional characters from the game. It was quite popular in ShiKahr, to pretend to be someone completely other than yourself. While Spock had admitted he did not quite understand the logic of pretending, he did understand the concept of acting which lead to the development of the quest called the Enterprise Incident.
The quest was designed by Amanda before she disappeared. The quest starts by getting caught in unfamiliar territory with another in your party. The commander of the army you encounter will take a liking to one of your party members. You then had to lie, cheat, and act your way into acquiring information on their secret weapon, then acquire it.
The commander of the enemy had taken a liking to Spock, leaving Jim to act erratic and unstable, convincing the commander that he was indeed insane, leading to his imprisonment. Spock then flirted with the commander and extracted information while Jim plotted his escape and stole the device while Spock kept her busy. Jim had enjoyed the mission. He hadn't found it annoying at all, besides the fact that he wasn't fond of Spock flirting with her. His comment earlier, made Spock understand. Jim was acting the part, and Spock had gone with it.
Jim had also immediately recognized T'Pring's voice on the other line. Spock must have told her the predicament and enlisted her help. They would not recognize her voice, and Jim was known in the game. It wouldn't be strange for him to engage in RP outside the game. Sure they might look down on him for it, but they couldn't do anything about it.
"I was not aware that I have entered the neutral zone. My trespassing was a mere accident. One of my party has suffered a loss, and I only wished to track her whereabouts," he responded confidently.
There was a moment's pause. No doubt Spock was translating what he had said and was instructing what his ex fiancé what to say next. He had to admit, he was surprised to find the woman could act. She was so cold and impersonal. "I do not believe you. You are known for your ambitions. Tiberius takes what he wants and does not answer to anyone. How do you expect us to trust a lowly human swordsman when your human government has trespassed against us once before?"
"Perhaps it is time for our governments to meet. Surely you have an ambassador who would not mind us 'lowly' humans. You expect to earn our trust when you hide behind your ships and weaponry? There can be no peace if you continue to hide," he sneered for dramatic effect.
"Perhaps, but your sword cannot harm us. You are only one. Shall we wait for you to call your companion? I hear you no longer run alone and have an elven shadow."
"No," he said sternly, looking up into the night sky. He wondered if he could see Spock's planet from Earth. "I am more than capable to take you on if necessary. While my elf is capable in his own right, I do not need his strength to take on the likes of you."
There was silence on the other line for a while, and Jim wondered if they had lost connection. Finally, she spoke again. "You are foolish as are most of your kind, but I must recognize your bravery. I do hope your bravado pulls you through. You are correct that we have an ambassador willing to speak with you, but we have no ability to sway the council to do the same. The neutral zone is wavering; whether it will become a zone of conflict or peace still remains."
"And what do you wish for? If I were to cross into your border today, would you consider me friend or enemy?"
"I think it depends on your actions human. Whether you take your sword and kill I-Chaya, or if you lay down your sword and approach a le-matya with good intentions," the woman calmly said.
Jim frowned. "Romulans cannot be trusted lightly. They have the ability to manipulate their enemies. If I were to set down my sword and openly trust you, what guarantee do I have that you would not cast a spell and turn me? Or have you already cast the spell?"
Jim stopped breathing, awaiting the answer. He had to know if Spock was controlling him. "Whether the spell has been cast or not is irrelevant. Romulans and elves share distant ancestry, yet you align with the elves and trust them. If an elf should cast a spell on you, you would not question, you would trust that the elf has not harmed you. If you can trust elves, perhaps it is time for you to extend that trust to my people as well and trust that any spell that may have been casted is a good one."
"It is hard to trust beings I have not seen. I feel your presence when I turn my back and stays with me well into the night. If I were to leave, would you not continue to watch me? There is no trust on your end," Jim's voice rose, unable to contain his emotions. Why did Spock watch him?
The voice he heard respond to the query was not T'Pring's or even Spock. It was Sarek. He responded in low tones which oddly felt calming to Jim's rising distress as he spoke. "Or perhaps the eyes on you is a version of the trust we extend to you. Or to be specific, our young prince's trust. To form a bond without ever meeting in person, to move another with just words never meeting face to face.
"All that is needed is one man to have a vision to influence a nation. To create such a bond is precious and cherished to our people, and the bond is only formed through opening one's self completely and truly."
"Such bonds are useless unless the other party is aware," Jim said quietly.
"Indeed, but the young prince was not aware either. He is after all, young, and does not know the extent of what he can do. He did not intentionally mean to become so fixated on you, to connect with you. He had not even met you, but you managed to move him. If you are an example of the human race swordsman, then perhaps there is hope for negotiations. Until then, I hope you can help your companion retrieve his lost asset." Sarek paused then added. "And let it be known a bond works both ways. If he can connect with you, then the opposite is also possible."
Did that mean if Spock was aware of what he was up to then he could find out what Spock was up too? It was possible. He had sought out Spock, unable to think of a reason why only to find him upset about something. The knowledge that it happened both ways eased the tightness in his chest. That presence he felt in his mind was less constricting if it was two way.
"Let it be known swordsman," T'Pring was back on and Jim kind of found himself looking at her in a better light than before. "We are giving you our trust that you will not cross into our territory again. A gift has been sent to the ShiKahr palace as sign of a truce. Accept it with good intentions."
"Of course, Commander. Thank you for your understanding." The connection ended. He was disappointed he had not been able to talk to Spock, but he supposed his PADD could have been tapped as well. Since he rarely let his communicator out of his sight, it would be hard to tamper with without him noticing. Even so, Spock had taken precautions and had T'Pring speak instead of him.
While there was a chance that their coded speech could be deciphered, there was information they just didn't have to solve it all. It would be too late for them to do anything by the time they put the pieces together. There was one person Jim was considering trusting, but he couldn't take it past that. He also needed to locate Amanda. He hoped she was okay. Until then, he'd have to get comfy with Marcus and convince him to let him see her.
The thought made his stomach churn. The man made his skin crawl. He had no choice though. Amanda needed him, and he owed her that much.
Jim walked into Pike's office. It had changed little since he had visited before the older man's promotion. The office was larger with a view of the bay and overlooked the Academy grounds. The man's trinkets and awards littered the shelves and there was a neat stack of PADDs on his desk.
"What can I do for you, son?" For a brief moment, Kirk wondered if all men older than him liked referring to him as son, or it was just that all the older men he kept meeting was from the south.
"Pike, there's something I need to talk to you about."
The admiral laughed, looking at Jim with fondness when he replied, "Girl trouble?"
The laughter didn't stop until the older man took in the young cadet's serious expression. "Sit down and tell me what's on your mind."
Jim did not sit down. He stood in parade rest; head held high, chest puffed out, looking every bit of a captain as he was going to be. "Sir, when you recruited me, you had specifically stated that the direction you wished Starfleet to go for us to make it our mission to explore new worlds, seek out new life forms, and boldly go where no man has gone before. Does your current opinion still coincide with that statement?"
Pike legitimately looked taken back by the detached, military approach Jim was taking, addressing his superior as a cadet or captain should address an admiral. It was a first as the young man rarely ever lowered his head to another.
Recovering from his shock, Pike drew his eyebrows together in concern. "Yes, Captain Kirk, I believe that is the direction Starfleet should go. There's a whole universe out there that we know nothing about, and I believe we should make a good impression on any life forms we meet, not an imposing one."
This was it. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a mistake to trust him. "Sir, Admiral Marcus and I have a reason to believe that an alien race has contacted us. While I believe that their intentions are non hostile and currently assessing the situation on whether to make their presence known, the admiral believes that their intentions are malicious. He has already captured one of them, Lieutenant Commander Grayson. He plans to lure her son, who is also the son of one of their ambassadors and the grandson of one of their high council members, to Earth to interrogate him. He is looking to start a war by doing so."
Pike grew tense during the explanation, his eyes hard and calculating. "I never did like that prick," he murmured under his breath. Louder he said, "You seem pretty confident about these aliens' intentions. What makes you so sure?"
Jim did not falter, answering with complete honesty. "Lieutenant Commander Grayson's son has become a dear friend of mine over a videogame. While I am aware that it is a game and that he could be faking it, he has gained my trust, something that I do not give out easily. I believe he has good intentions, and I do not believe that his mother should be held captive because they wished to study us as we would have done if met with a more primitive culture."
"You're right about that, son. I do have a question though, Captain Kirk. Why is it that only one alien is present on Earth? Or do you believe there are more hiding on Earth somewhere?"
Jim paused, thinking over his conversation with Spock and the pictures he has seen. "I believe that Mrs. Grayson is a different species of alien than the ones she is working with. I believe she married an alien herself and she was the only one human looking enough to pass without surgery or be discovered by our scanners at first glance."
The peak of curiosity was evident on the other's face. "I've met Amanda Grayson. What exactly does the aliens she is working for look like?"
He thought of Spock and a small smile made its way on his face before he dropped it to answer. "They have tipped ears, slanted eyebrows, and they seem to have dark hair and eyes. They also have a light greenish hue to their skin." He thought back to the game. Spock bled green. "I also think they have green blood, but you cannot quote me for fact on that last statement, sir."
A smile twitched its way on Pike's lips. "Green aliens?" He said clearly amused.
"I assure you sir, that the coloring is hardly noticeable. I am sure there is much we do not know about their physiology."
"Right, of course," the admiral waved him off, clearly in thought. "I'll put it in the system that I called you here to talk about your position on my ship. We'll figure something out, Jim."
Tension rolled off the young man's shoulders, and his posture gave into a slight slouch. It was one less thing to worry about. He still had to see Marcus after this. "Thank you, sir."
"No problem, kid. Now let's actually discuss ship business while you're here."
Jim sighed, finally plopping himself down onto the chair in front of the metal desk. "Sure thing, Chris."
Jim left Chris Pike's office only to go straight to Marcus'. A great weight had lifted from his mind by confiding in Chris. His gamble had paid off, and he was feeling calmer than he had felt since the whole mess began. There was one person who he could rely upon who had a bit of pull even if not as much as he would like, but the man still had connections.
Unfortunately, the meeting had also reminded him that in a few weeks, he would be on a ship and leaving Spock behind.
Entering the office, he forced his face to remain neutral as the admiral smiled at him. "Kirk, the man of the hour. I must say son, telling the truth and twisting it a smidge worked wonderfully. We already received confirmation that he will be here in four days. You're performance was wonderful."
Four days to figure out how to get Amanda out and go over Marcus' head to establish peace before a war broke out or he got court martialed. Maybe Spock's race would be grateful and allow him to live with him if he got charged with treason. Eh, one could hope.
"Thank you, sir. I was quite proud of myself as well. However, I do have a request." It was all or nothing.
"What is it I can do for you, Kirk?" the admiral asked, a smile still plastered to his face.
"If it is possible, I want to talk to Mrs. Grayson myself to get more information out of her. She knows me. I might be able to get more information out of her."
The smile on the admiral's face grew. "I had considered it, but I wasn't sure of your loyalty until last night, though you did see Pike today."
So he was being watched. He wasn't surprised really. Marcus was a paranoid and cautious man. Even so, Jim held up the file he was given while he was in Pike's office. "Information about the Farragut in greater detail. I have to familiarize myself with the ship within two weeks. I am shipping out soon."
"Yes, it's a lot of information to take in, but I'm sure you can do it."
Jim nodded, tucking the file away. "I wish to help out as much as I can before I get deployed. We've already lured her son; we just need to get as much information we can so we are prepared before they arrive. We have limited information of telepathic abilities, and we do not know what to expect."
Marcus laughed. "You really do have a mind of a captain. It's exactly what I was thinking. I do think you can get her talking. She's should be about ready anyway."
The admiral stood and showed him the door. "After you."
Marcus led him to the holding facility below headquarters. Jim had never been to it before. It was rarely used, only when an officer had committed very violent crimes or high acts of treason. There were three checkpoints and two security code/bioscanners needed to get to a simple interrogation room that held a small table and two chairs. At the table sat the gaunt form of Amanda Grayson.
Yes, I suck with Scottish accents. I will edit tomorrow. You know me. Can't update at like noon like normal people. Night all.