The rest of their shift goes uneventfully, but in the morning, when Spock taps on the door to Jim's ready room, it just chimes a few times without response.
Odd. Despite Kirk being an endless series of frivolous interactions with the crew, a mask of lackadaisical charisma, he is prompt and dutiful. It is odd not to find him where he ought to be.
Spock tried again.
After the next two times the door shoots open, mostly due to an automatic timer and the combination of Spock's code. What he finds isn't worth losing sleep over, but it's clear Jim isn't losing any sleep-because he's passed out on top of a stack of open binders, pamphlets and PADDs, his monitor blinking the Federation screensaver on opposite ends.
He abruptly opens his eyes and sits straight up, clearing his throat and narrowly avoiding knocking over a mug. And Jim Kirk's necessity to always be in motion, moving, searching, striving, seeking-it's doubly absurd to see him fall asleep at his desk, but there it is.
"Oh my g-oh, what? What time is it? Are you-kidding me-?" he laughs, scratching the back of his neck. "I must've been burning that midnight oil a little too hard."
It was like a perpetual motion machine grinding to a halt before one's eyes. Theoretically, it couldn't actually maintain perpetual motion. One had to reset the contraption now and then. But it was another thing to see it happen.
"O'nine hundred." Spock responded and stepped inside to allow the door to close behind him.
Jim waves him in, picking up his abandoned mug and taking a swig before making a face. "Yeugh," is his helpful response. He stands and moves to the food synthesizer, placing his mug underneath for a refill. "Come in, come in. I was just going over some data points of my own. What've you got for me?"
Spock set down a data PADD on Kirk's desk, "I've organized a report."
He picks it up and idly peruses it, flicking through the screens idly. "All right, recommendations?"
"Hydrogen recyclers are a good first option. Affordable and simple to train for maintenance. Secondary would be transport- there's a reliance on underground transport for chemical goods but we could offer lighter containers for better shipment times."
Jim's eyebrows shoot up. "That is really good," he snaps his fingers. "We could probably create some kind of compression algorithm for more storage space inside, too. I knew we'd make a good team," he beams, genuinely pleased.
Spock arched a brow, "Perhaps. The success of our efforts remains to be seen."
"What happened to that sparkling optimism?"
"As far as I am aware I have never sparkled."
"Not with that attitude," Jim jokes, leaning back in his chair. "I mean, the best, most effective tool we could trade would be weapons," he throws out, lips pressed together flatly. "Maybe personnel. Maybe infrastructure. Maybe an audience with the Federation Chamber, take another look at the dividing lines between Rigelian-Federation interests. I mean, I could make a case for all of it. And we still don't know if it would make a difference."
"Not weapons." Spock said firmly without hesitation.
"Obviously not," Jim groans, dropping his head into his fingertips. "I mean, I think we're avoiding the obvious, here."
Spock arched a brow.
"At the end of the day, we're probably going to have to go in their ourselves. Not-some Federation diplomatic Hail Mary, or asking nicely."
Spock hesitated, shifting gears, "Covertly."
"Yeah," Jim nods. "Covert, precise, quick. I mean we'll get as much out of our resources as we can, but we need to be prepared for the fact that might not be enough to secure Narae. The longer he's in Syndicate custody, the worse off he is, hands down."
"Perhaps the hydrogen modules could be used to serve as a... distraction."
"You want to go in covertly?" Jim nods, considering it seriously. "I think there's a way we can grab the best of both worlds. Two high-ranking officers getting backstabbed in a deal is our most legitimate option."
"You mean get captured on purpose." Clearly that wasn't what Spock had initially meant.
Jim clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his expression making it obvious he can't really figure out what else Spock could have meant. His head tilts, inviting.
"Two teams." He explained, "One to offer the legitimate trade of the hydrogen recyclers and a second, covert in place should the offer fall through."
"We might have better luck going through the front door," Jim points out. It's not disagreement, but-much to Spock's surprise, Jim does take the time to examine things from multiple angles, and has demonstrated a knack for getting as much data as he can before coming to a snap decision.
"You are the one with experience." Spock allowed.
"And if it were just me, I'd do what I want to do," Jim agrees softly.
"Their expertise in subterfuge far outweighs our own." Spock added lightly. It was unlikely they'd be able to pull off a covert mission if the Orions were watching for one.
"I wouldn't bet on that," Jim mutters under his breath. "But you're right that the Orions will, and we can use that to our advantage. Make mistakes, pull amateur shit. They'll underestimate us. We would be a very valuable capture and if we appeal to their ego they'll feel like they've pulled in the big fish."
He arched a brow, "I do not believe I am well equipped for such— acting."
"We can't always operate within our comfort zones. Adapt, improvise, overcome, right?" Jim sounds positively unimpressed with himself at this point.
"Sir, if I may speak freely?"
Jim waves a hand.
"There is something you are not telling me."
"Yeah," Jim sighs. There's no point in insulting Spock's intelligence, but to be fair, that much was always obvious. He hasn't gone too far out of his way to obfuscate it. "There's stuff I'm not at liberty to say. Even to you. And no, I don't really want to throw you into this situation without all the information, so it's kind of a piss off."
"The lack of shared information could jeopardize the safety of everyone on this mission." He pointed out, though it wasn't an encouragement to break protocol, just an observation.
"Yeah, no shit," Jim sighs. It's not a problem with Spock, that much is evident. "Well I guess if I really wanted to keep it a secret you wouldn't be calling me out on it," he mutters to himself. He sighs. "My old handler is the one who reached out to me on this."
"Handler." He echoed, inviting expansion.
"Yeah," Jim nods. "Me and all my experience," he smiles tightly. "I've worked undercover before. I've worked with Orava before, as an independent contractor. When I was younger, and stupider. Even younger and stupider," he holds up a finger to dissuade Spock from interrupting wryly. "Considering you'll find out sooner or later, the lead on this is Admiral Kirk."
Spock blinked and digested that with a surprising amount of calm.
"I see." Which meant he didn't see at all but he DID understand why it was supposed to be under wraps.
"Yeah that's about where I am," Jim returns dryly.
It was helpful for Kirk to have that experience, he supposed, even if the implications thereof were, frankly, alarming.
"Very well, if you require further input from me on mission parameters I am at your disposal, sir." Spock stood.
"You play chess, right?"
Spock paused, "I do."
"We should get a game going sometime. You know, I bet you'd like chess boxing." He grins widely.
"I am unfamiliar with that version of chess."
"It's the best of both worlds. Victory by checkmate or victory by knockout. Mind and body," Jim taps his temple.
He arched a brow, "I believe I would provide an able opponent in either realm."
"Why do you think I asked?" Jim returns, his smile much more sincere this time around. "Oh, but there's a catch."
"A catch." He said a bit dryly, having anticipated something along those lines.
"None of that gravity differential shit. Fair and square, buddy," Jim smirks. "Unless you're afraid to give me a handicap."
"I am concerned to render you handicapped."
"Perfect," Jim claps his hands together. "So it's on, then? Meet you in the gym. 2000 hours."
This was a terrible idea.
Spock honestly didn't know why he said, "2000 hours, sir." And ducked out of the ready room.
Spock was not imagining the extra pep in Jim's step for the rest of the day.