Annoyingly long A/N: I know. I suck.

I cannot believe it has taken me this long to update, and I can only apologize, with my only feeble excuse being that real life has taken me out to the woodshed and knocked the living tar out of me. Will hopefully do better with summer coming.

That all said – you should know these things: First, this story isn't nearly over. It might be about halfway through, frankly – and maybe not even that. After the Big Drama of Chapter 24, some of the things you'll read will seem kind of anticlimactic – like this chapter, I'd imagine – but they're things that I need to have in the story, so I'll beg your indulgence.

Finally, speaking of "things I need to have in the story" – I know that there will be some readers who will find my characters and/or their actions/reactions to be OOC, and others who will be perturbed by plot developments that don't go in a way they feel would be appropriate for a military setting such as a starship. To those readers, I apologize once more, preemptively – but I will also tell you that what you will read here is my vision for my story. No matter how flawed the finished product may be, I have indeed carefully considered what I am going to write.

Feel free, of course, to let me know that you don't like it – but please also understand that your criticism, however well-intentioned, is highly unlikely to convince me to change my own ideas about plot and/or characterization. In other words – I'm sorry there will be parts that will drive some of you nuts, but I'm also at peace with that.

~o~

~o~

But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.
Lord Alfred Tennyson

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~o~

Five days.

Even though it had been the better part of a week, he still felt as though somehow he'd gone to the wrong spot on the bridge, and was working in Spock's place by mistake.

Hikaru knew better, of course – and he knew that as wrong as he felt at the First Officer's station, Spock felt exponentially worse in the Captain's chair. It wasn't logical, of course, but it had taken Spock three days to manage to actually sit down in that chair – and Hikaru had seen the look on his face when he'd done so.

Anyone who thinks that Vulcans don't have expressions is either not paying attention or doesn't know what they're looking for, he thought. Because he'd been able to tell that somehow when he'd sat in the chair, Spock was finally admitting to himself that this wasn't going to be over quickly. They were still in exactly the same situation they'd been in five days previously; stalled without their shields in Cardassian space, with no prospect of help from Starfleet, and with Jim being held hostage by – hell, by whatever they were.

It wasn't clear whether everybody else on the alien craft was a shapeshifter like their guest Treya – who, much to her own dismay, had remained behind on the Enterprise. Seemed that Jim had been right; despite the enormous damage that she'd been able to cause on board, she was more or less a minor player in this whole God-awful affair. At any rate, her boss Gandhar hadn't had a problem with leaving her behind – as a spy, or for some other reason that wasn't clear to any of them. One way or the other, she was currently stuck in the brig, where she was pissing off Security – and amazing the gang in Science – with her propensity to change her shape repeatedly, either out of boredom or just out of sheer spite.

"Do you have a moment, Mr. Sulu?" He started briefly, looking up to see his own replacement at the helm, young Nazim Ghanem, standing before him. He'd wondered when they were going to have this conversation. Now's as good a time as any, he thought.

"Sure, Ensign." Hikaru glanced over to the helm, catching Pavel's eye immediately. "Mr. Chekov – 'conn's yours for now."

The navigator nodded his acknowledgment. 'Yes, Sir."

Hikaru had, quite frankly, expected it to feel weird to be one of Pavel's commanding officers; he realized rapidly that he hadn't given Pavel nearly enough credit. The combination of Pavel's complete professionalism and his unquestioning love for Hikaru had enabled him to make their interactions on the bridge utterly comfortable and natural, and to disconnect their professional relationship from their personal relationship seemingly without effort. In a situation that otherwise seemed to provide nothing but non-stop stress, Hikaru was inexpressibly grateful to Pavel for making at least that aspect of his job so easy.

The door to the smaller of two meeting rooms right off the bridge swished shut behind them. "So, Ghanem – you wanted to talk to me?"

"You know why, Mr. Sulu." Ghanem looked concerned, and more than a little perturbed. "You of all people know that I wasn't anywhere on the rota for serving as pilot – much less to… to replace you at a time like this." He shook his head. "I know I'm here because of your recommendation – but, why?"

"Better question, Nazim, is why you signed on for Ops on the Enterprise when you know as well as I do that you're the best damn pilot that's come out of the Academy in I don't know how long. Including me."

Sulu paused, looking searchingly at the young ensign. "You could have been – should have been -piloting a ship right out of the Academy. Screw the rota – there's nobody on this ship better qualified to take the helm from me, and that's no secret to anybody who's ever seen you fly. Hell, you were two whole years behind me at Starfleet, and still good enough to make me jealous – the damn flight instructors never shut up about you. You've got skills, Ghanem, and you know it."

Ghanem was silent for a long moment before sighing deeply. "Maybe that's true, maybe it's not. I don't know. But I do know that whatever you might think of my abilities, I signed on for Operations. Until last week, I was in procurement, for God's sake." Realizing that his voice had risen, he paused, taking another deep breath. "I didn't have any intention of flying."

Hikaru's reply was quiet. "You think I don't know that? Or that I didn't hear about that accident you were in back home in Turkey right after graduation?" He reached forward to grasp the young pilot's arm. "I know all about it, Nazim – because you can bet that I did some poking around when you joined the crew and didn't enlist as a pilot. So, yeah – I know about those young kids who flew into your path too late for you to evade them, and I know that they both died in the crash and that you damn near did, too."

He blew out a short, exasperated breath. And – well, Christ, Nazim. I get it – you somehow felt like the whole thing was your fault, and somehow it made you less worthy to be a pilot. But here's the thing; you of all people should know that I would never jeopardize the Enterprise, especially not now, by recommending you for this job if I didn't think – hell, if I didn't know – that you could fly this ship better than anybody else here."

He laughed quietly, humorlessly. "Besides me, of course."

Ghanem was perfectly still then, watching Sulu wordlessly.

"Is there anything else, Ensign?"

Nazim started slightly, as though surprised to be spoken to – and then seeming slightly embarrassed to have been startled. "No. No, sir. Nothing else."

"Very well, then, Ghanem. Back to your post. Tell Mr. Chekov I'll be back to the bridge shortly."

Nodding his acknowledgment, Ghanem turned and left the room.

As the door slid shut again, Sulu sat down at the conference table and reached toward the intercom. "Sulu to McCoy."

"Yeah, Hikaru. What's goin' on?"

"Nothing, Doc. Just wanted to check in and see how everything was going with our… observation."

"Nobody's with me, Sulu. You don't have to talk in code."

"All right, then – how's he doing?"

Shortly after Spock had assumed command, McCoy and Sulu had discovered a mutual concern for the acting captain's well-being – especially since Spock himself seemed not to care at all about the state of his own health.

Not that either man blamed Spock – after all, he had a lot more to deal with than keeping track of how he was eating and sleeping.

"Well, I know he's at least eating; between me and Nyota, we've each managed to get him to the Officers' Mess and eat at least one meal a day with him. Can't really tell you how much sleep he has or hasn't gotten in the past two days – as CMO, I could order him to wear a bio-monitor, but I don't really want to do anything to cause him more stress than he's already got. He tells me he's doin' all right."

McCoy snorted briefly. "Actually, he tells me, 'my condition, though less than optimal, is adequate.' Can't imagine what he's really goin' through – damn hobgoblin." Though the doctor's words sounded frustrated, his tone held nothing but sympathy.

Sulu sighed. "Yeah, it's hard to imagine. Bad as it is for the rest of us, it's got to be exponentially worse for Spock."

Shit – even that was an understatement. Spock had been given command of the Enterprise in what was arguably the worst situation they'd experienced in the two years since their run-in with the Narada – and up to this point, he'd had no support whatsoever from Starfleet. He was in charge of finding a way out of this God-awful mess …

…And he had to do all of it without Jim.

"Has he said anything to you, Doc? About whether he can tell how Jim's doing?"

Shortly after Jim's departure, Spock had briefly told Command team about the nature of the telepathic Vulcan bond that had spontaneously formed between himself and Jim – not because he particularly wished to share details about their relationship, but because he thought it might be beneficial for the other members of the team to be aware of a potentially useful link to their captain.

"He hasn't. And I haven't asked. Figured if there was anything I needed to know, Spock would tell me. Just… well, shit."

The doctor sighed resignedly. "Spock's so damn private anyway – and like I said before, I don't want to pile any more stress onto him, not now. So, no – I don't know what he knows about Jim. Not that I'm not dying to ask him."

"Yeah, I know." For all that McCoy was trying to be understanding and patient for Spock's benefit, Sulu also knew that he, too, was feeling Jim's loss keenly.

Hell, they all were.

At that moment, the door of the ready room swished open, and Uhura appeared in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt – but we've got a transmission from Admiral Pike on the secure channel. Should I…"

Sulu nodded decisively in answer to her as yet unspoken question. "Get Spock. Now."

~o~

~o~

"I wish I had something better to tell you, Spock." The crew on the bridge could see the barely-repressed anguish on the admiral's face. "I wish… damn. I just wish I could be there with you all, too. That there was something I could do for you instead of just sitting here spouting Starfleet regulation bullshit."

"Admiral Pike." Spock's tone, oddly, sounded almost reassuring. "Believe me when I tell you that all of us aboard the Enterprise know that we have no more stalwart supporter than yourself, and that if there were anything that could be done on Starfleet's part to alleviate our current … dilemma, you would be making sure it was being accomplished."

Pike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. "Thank you, Spock. Appreciate that. And I'm sorry you couldn't reach me when this first happened – not that I could have come up with any brilliant solution then, either, but at least you wouldn't have had to deal with that idiot Komack."

He shook his head disgustedly. "How Jim managed not to absolutely blow his stack with that asshole is beyond me – I don't think I'd have been able to avoid it if I had to talk to him. Not that I'd know – Komack's made himself scarce on some sort of 'classified mission' ever since right after he talked to you all. Pretty sure the little bastard knows that if he shows his face around the Admiralty after the way he threw you all under the bus, he's going to end up with somebody's boot up his ass."

McCoy found himself fighting back a smile – something he hadn't needed to do in damn near a week. Hearing Pike go off on Komack was kind of cathartic, and was a badly-needed shot of normality in a situation in which pretty much nothing was normal.

"But speaking of Jim," Pike continued, sounding a bit calmer, "have you heard from him? Have they let you keep in touch with him?"

At that, all the eyes on the bridge turned to Spock, awaiting his reply.

"Jim's captors have not, in fact, allowed us to communicate with him."

Spock paused, seeming to consider his words briefly before proceeding. "However, Jim and I had formed a rudimentary telepathic bond shortly before he went aboard the Albiorix, and as a result, I have been able to maintain what might be considered a sort of contact with him."

Spock was vaguely taken aback by Pike's lack of surprise at that last revelation; he only seemed eager for an answer. "And? What are you getting from Jim, Spock?"

"At first, Admiral, I was able to receive many impressions of Jim's surroundings aboard the alien craft – enough to know that although some of the beings aboard the Albiorix are shapeshifters like the one currently in our custody, there are other species as well. The ship is also manned by a number of Cardassians, at least one Klingon, a human who had previously been a crew member aboard the Enterprise, and a few other species that were previously unknown to Jim. His observation of the crew's interactions led him to believe that this is a rogue group of petty pirates and thieves, bent only on enriching themselves via kidnapping and extortion."

"You said 'at first,' Spock – what's happened?"

"I believe, Admiral, that perhaps Jim may have seemed – for lack of a better word, sir, too observant for the comfort of his captors. For the past 53 hours, my mental contact with Jim has led me to believe that he is being sedated. He does not seem ill or in any kind of discomfort, but is obviously being kept in a state of very limited consciousness."

Pike shook his head again. "I guess that can't come as a huge surprise; if they've got someone from the Enterprise on their crew – is it that douchebag LaFontaine?" At Spock's nod, he continued. "Anyway, anyone who's worked with Kirk is going to know that he's not going to stop thinking of a way to get the Enterprise the hell out of this mess just because he's been captured; they were going to have to find another way to neutralize him somehow. Guess we're lucky they haven't done anything worse to him."

"Yet." McCoy's first interjection into the conversation was quiet and grim.

"I know, Leonard." Pike sounded sympathetic. "I know. And I'll do my best to keep stringing these bastards on – but I don't know how much longer they're going to buy my 'rogue admiral fighting Starfleet regulations' song and dance. At some point, they're going to figure out that my communications with them are entirely unauthorized by Starfleet – and if they'd hoped to hold Jim and the Enterprise hostage to bargain for their damnable mining rights on Coridan, they've done it all for nothing. Even if we did negotiate with terrorists or criminals – which we don't and never will – the rights aren't the Federation's to grant. Jim had it right – these thugs don't have any idea what they're doing."

"So, you're basically telling us that Starfleet's flagship was disabled and hijacked into enemy space by a bunch of damned idiots?" The doctor sounded apoplectic. "Because if it's possible, that makes it even worse."

"On the contrary, Doctor – that makes it better." Spock sounded even calmer in contrast to McCoy's agitation. "If this had been an official act of aggression by the Cardassians, we would be in a great deal more danger than if it were a random act of piracy by, as you put it, 'a bunch of damned idiots.' Given the relatively remote nature of our location, it is entirely likely that the Cardassian officials are not even aware of our presence here, and that the aliens aboard the Albiorix are as anxious to avoid their notice as we ourselves are. If that is indeed the case, we might be able to escape this region without having been noticed by enemy forces."

"Once we've got Jim back." McCoy watched Spock carefully, as though waiting for Spock to argue that point.

Spock returned the doctor's regard coolly. "Of course. Under no circumstances will we leave without the captain."

Pike cleared his throat quietly – as if to remind the two men that he was still part of the conversation – and indeed, they both looked somewhat guiltily back at the view screen as though they had forgotten that the admiral was there.

"Spock." Pike paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out on a sigh. "I know you all are determined to get Jim away from his captors – I know you are. But you're also going to have to consider…"

"No, Admiral. There is nothing further I need to consider in this matter."

Pavel knew that the sound of his sharply indrawn breath at Spock's quick response had been loud enough to hear across the entire bridge – and that he hadn't been the only one to gasp in surprise at Spock having blatantly defied the admiral. The crew was used to hearing Kirk speak that way to various members of Starfleet High Command – but never, never Spock.

Had some of Jim's command style rubbed off on his First Officer? Perversely, Pavel found himself hoping that it might have – because they could use some of Kirk's sheer ballsiness right about now.

Pike, not surprisingly, did not seem to agree with Pavel. "Spock, dammit – I don't want to get into this with you. But you know I could order you to give it up and concentrate on getting the ship back into Federation space without Jim – I'm not going to, not now, but at some point I might have to. If the Admiralty was in on this right now, those would be their orders, and you know it."

Nyota marveled at Spock's self-control at that moment; he sounded more like a computer than a furiously angry half-Human as he glared at the view screen. "I am, Admiral, currently operating under official Starfleet orders as provided by Admiral Komack. He specifically directed us to use our, and I quote him here, 'best judgment.' I am doing so at this time, and will continue to follow those specific Starfleet orders."

He glanced briefly over to his Communications officer, gesturing to the control panel with the tiniest tilt of his head. "Thank you for your time, Admiral Pike. Enterprise out."

The screen went dark then, and the silence on the bridge was broken by spontaneous applause as the crew realized that their acting captain had, more or less, told Starfleet that if they thought the Enterprise was leaving Jim Kirk behind, they had another think coming.

The stony expression on Spock's face, however, restored the silence.

"I fail to see any cause for celebration at this juncture," he said in a reproving tone. "Although Admiral Pike obviously does not understand our current situation, he is correct in stating that we must keep the safety of the Enterprise and the crew foremost in our minds as we try to free ourselves and the captain from the Albiorix. Captain Kirk would never forgive us if we endangered his ship or his crew on his behalf."

McCoy nodded his agreement. "Jim would be the first one to say we should leave him the hell behind and get the ship to safety. He'd tell us he could look after himself, and it 'd be our job to take care of the Enterprise for him."

Hikaru watched as the doctor and Spock exchanged a long, silent look across the bridge; it was clear that some unspoken communication was happening between the two of them, and while Hikaru found it baffling, it was clear that the two men understood one another perfectly.

As if they'd actually been speaking, McCoy nodded to Spock before turning to leave the bridge. "All right then – I'll leave you to it. I'm going back down to see if any of the lab work we've done on that damn shapeshifter has given us any information we can use against them – not that it's likely. But, Spock –" his expression changed suddenly as a look of pain flashed quickly across his face – "come down when you can. Tell me more about Jim, all right?"

"Certainly, Doctor." Spock nodded in return as the doctor disappeared through the door to the turbolift.

Slowly, the crew resumed normal activities – or what would pass for "normal" in these most abnormal of times – and Spock moved to stand behind the captain's chair. Sulu couldn't help but notice yet again that he avoided sitting there whenever possible.

I get it. It's Jim's chair. Just like I'm sitting in Spock's chair – like Ghanem is sitting in my chair.

Five days.

And who knew how much longer this waiting game would go on – or how much longer it could go on.

~o~

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More to come – hopefully VERY soon – but I figured I'd end this chapter here because it seemed to want to finish up, and because I figured I might want to go ahead and publish now so that y'all would know that I hadn't forgotten this story entirely. (So, you'll drop me a review and let me know you're still reading - right?)

Speaking of stories – big hugs to all of you for how kindly you've received the ridiculous "Christmas" story I was writing when I should have been working on this. I've got the best readers anywhere. Just sayin. Love you all!