Many thanks to my reviewers, much appreciated: especially Schematization, wow you were reading closely! I haven't really considered a sequel to Leviathan but I wouldn't rule it out for the future. I'm delighted you're enjoying the story…so here's a bit more! Same disclaimer applies. Love from Jude x

Influence: Chapter 2.

"You are a singularly stubborn specimen," the fair-haired Trellian female sighed. She was tall, impressive, sharp-eyed, dressed in an old-style martial uniform crossed with a crimson sash. "I say again, Captain: you have two options. Tell your ship to surrender with all hands or it will be destroyed."
"No thank you," said Kirk calmly.

The Trellian closed her eyes. They were startling violet, blue-streaked, and when she opened them again they were pained:

"Why do you wish for more bloodshed than is necessary? Do you not value life?"
"That's a quite a question," Kirk returned acerbically: "coming from you."

They were sitting in the Captain's quarters of the Trellian ship Sarda: uncomfortably familiar territory to Kirk, not worlds different to his own. Indeed, this separatist leader – A'alya, she had introduced herself – was so calm, so grave and so – sane-seeming – it boggled the mind to try and reconcile her with the act she had just performed. And she spoke of the value of life.

"You just killed hundreds of people," said Kirk, not believing it himself: 'probably including my two best friends. You bitch.' Anger was necessary.

"Yet more reason to prevent more loss of life! I am not a barbarian, Captain."
"That's a matter of opinion."
"I deeply regret the civilian deaths on Trell, and the loss of your crewmembers. These deaths were necessary to prevent an allegiance which would prove fatal to the True Ways of Trell. Life is of value, but some things are above life. The True Ways are one such thing."
"Just words."
"Not just words. I know loss. My partner – my bonded one – was lost for the cause." An expression of deep pain flashed across her features. "The pain of his death will be with me forever, but I would not undo it. Nor would I hesitate to give my life, were it necessary. But the deaths of your crew, the destruction of your ship – these are not necessary. You may return to our base as prisoners – we have technology to erase your memories of this event. After which you may go free."
"You'll have to forgive me if I don't jump to believe you."

A'alya closed her eyes again.

"You will be returned to the holding chamber - I will as yet take no action. It is necessary that we remain in orbit, cloaked, for the time being – we are in contact with many of our agents on the surface. Please, consider my proposal carefully Captain. I do not wish to destroy your ship. I do not wish to harm you or your young officer. But I will do these things. Have no doubt of that."

Considering her actions and the steel in her strange, streaked eyes, no doubt remained in Kirk's mind.

"How much longer is this gonna take, Spock?" McCoy studied his patient uneasily.

"I would estimate a further …..s to the ciridium deposits. However I can hardly guarantee the terrain."
"All these passageways…" Harek shook his head then immediately gritted his teeth in pain. MCoy braced the arm he kept around his waist in case he fell. "Perfect storage areas for whoever….whoever is responsible for this."
"There is a possib that a Trellian underground might-"
"I told you! There are no terrorists on Trell! We abhor violence! There is no underground, there is no-" Harek stopped suddenly and swayed.

"Spock, that's it," said the doctor firmly: "I would be medically irresponsible to have him travel any further. Harek and I will stay here – you go on, Spock, and get back with the ciridium as soon as you can."
The Vulcan's hooded eyes met his, neither criticizing nor approving.

"Very well," he said at last with a small nod. "I will endeavour to be brief. Keep this." He returned the communicator to McCoy.

"What! Why?"
"Although they are useless to us, it is possible Mr. Scott may still be able to lock on to your signal. I imagine he is attempting to do so at this moment. Should he succeed, it is far more urgent that you and the minister be beamed aboard than myself."

McCoy scowled, about to argue – what was it with the Vulcan and his martyr complex anyway? But a glance at the wavering Trellian changed his mind –

"Flawlessly logical, as usual," he grumbled, and settled Harek as comfortably as possible against the wall. He ran a scanner over him and frowned over the readings.

"There are no terrorists on Trell," the minister muttered, eyes closed.

Spock continued cautiously, deeper into the gloom. The passage narrowed, shafts of light from the ceiling grew fewer and further between. He rounded a corner and the others were lost to sight – his tricorder beeped as he drew nearer to the ore. A second passageway, a third – and then he came up sharp against a wall that gleamed and glittered with encrusted pieces of ore. Spock allowed himself to feel satisfaction, in a measure appropriate to the find. He chose a suitably sized rock and began to chip away at the deposit –

the rocks above groaned and creaked, weakened by the explosion.

Spock froze.

Nothing happened.

He continued to work at the ore – a splinter came away, but crumbled between his fingers. He changed the angle of the stone.

The ceiling creaked again – a human would've shivered at the cultural memory of ghosts.

At last, Spock stood holding a sufficient quantity of ciridium. He rubbed the soft stone away – the element remained in slender, malleable strands, well-suited to the business of repair. He left and retreated the way he had come, back towards the doctor and Harek –

McCoy stood up with a relieved expression as Spock entered the corridor, just as a groan and a crash shook the passage and the ceiling collapsed between them.