The next several days passed in relative peace. Jim went for a run every other day, but in general, his anxiety stayed at a low simmer. Whenever it did flare up, Spock was there at his side as if the Vulcan could sense his thoughts taking a dark turn. They had played four chess games in as many days, and Jim would be lying if he said Spock's presence hadn't been calming.

When they had been two days from Ewle they had finally gotten confirmation that Bones and one other member of his staff would be able to beam down with them and stay throughout the trials. The doctor had spent a full hour and a half during one of their dinners griping about how many hypos and other equipment he was having to bring, and the familiar sound had chased the last of Jim's nerves away.

As it stood, the away team would be Sulu, Uhura, himself, Spock, Bones, and Nurse Chapel. He had checked and double-checked with Sulu and Uhura that they were okay with participating and had queued up replacements just in case, but both officers had simply smiled at him and insisted they wanted to be part of the trials. Uhura had already started researching Ewlean singing and dancing traditions.

Stars, he would never understand what he had done to earn himself a crew like this.

"We are two hours from entering Ewlean orbit, Captain." Chekov's voice snapped Jim from his thoughts, and he took a moment to recenter himself before replying,

"Thank you, Ensign. Lieutenant Uhura, please call up the away team's replacements. I want us all to do a final debrief before we touch down on the planet."

"Aye, Captain." The bridge fell silent as Spock and Sulu both prepared their stations for the crewmembers who would be taking their places. "Mister Scott says he'll be up in a few minutes. The others are on their way."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

The turbolift doors hissed open not long after and three crew members stepped out, easily taking their positions on the bridge as Sulu, Uhura, and Spock all stood. "I'll meet you in Conference Room 3 as soon as Scotty's here," Jim said, nodding to the turbolift.

"Bring me back a souvenir, Hikaru, and not another plant!"

Jim turned to Chekov with a grin. He knew the ensign was disappointed that he hadn't been included in the away team, but he was also excited to be the senior officer at the helm. Sulu stopped next to the captain's chair and turned back.

"You want a shiny rock instead?"

Chekov glared at him good-naturedly and Sulu laughed, joining Uhura in the lift. Spock, however, stayed where he was behind Jim's shoulder. Chekov muttered something under his breath in Russian and then turned to the woman who had taken Sulu's place. They quickly fell into a quiet conversation, and Jim relaxed into his chair.

They stayed that way in comfortable silence for another couple of minutes before the lift doors opened again and Scotty stepped out. "Sorry for the wait, Captain."

"No problem, Scotty," Jim declared, standing from the chair and stretching. "The Enterprise is yours for the next few days, take care of her."

Scotty clapped a hand over his heart, eyes going wide in mock offense. "Now just who do you think I am, sir? She'll be in perfect shape when you get back."

Jim laughed and clapped the man on the shoulder as he made his way past to the lift. "Of course she will, Scotty." Spock stepped into the turbolift behind him and the doors slid closed. He gave an order and they began moving.

"The Enterprise is in remarkably competent hands, Captain."

Jim started. He knew Spock would never use his telepathy on him without his permission, but sometimes it was uncanny how much the Vulcan seemed to know of his thoughts. He relaxed against the wall. "I know. It's just never easy to give her up."

Spock stayed silent as the lift came to a stop and they both stepped out. The door to the conference room was open, and Jim could see Sulu and Bones sitting on one side of the table, laughing about something. Uhura and Chapel were sitting next to each other, Uhura with her head on Chapel's shoulder. They were a dozen steps from the door when Jim felt a hand on his shoulder. He stopped, and turned to Spock, quirking his eyebrow in a silent question.

Dark eyes met his own and held them. For a long moment, it seemed as if the universe narrowed to an infinite hallway and the two of them standing there, solid and real. Then Spock dropped his hand and the feeling drifted away, picked up by the ever-flowing current of time.

Spock nodded to the conference room, and Jim had to blink a few times before he remembered how to move. He offered the Vulcan a smile—a strange mix of emotions fluttering in his stomach—and then stepped into the conference room.

. . .

"—and we'll be met by Ambassador Hchun on the planet when we beam down," Jim was saying to the assembled away team. It was the same briefing he and Spock had planned together the evening before, and as such, Spock allowed himself to divert a fraction of his attention from Jim's words to his appearance and demeanor.

He knew without asking that Jim had not slept well the night before, and he doubted that there had been a single day in the last eight that had resulted in a sufficient amount of rest for the man. Despite that, Jim's words were energetic, and he was gesturing as he spoke. There were faint bags under his eyes, but Spock knew from experience that they would be hidden behind concealer when the man changed into his dress uniform. If there was more weariness in Jim's shoulders than was typical, he doubted the Ewlean would notice. No, Jim looked the part of an exemplary starship captain, and Spock would do his best to ensure he remained that way.

He blinked, forcing his mind to focus back in on the conversation at hand.

"Remember, today is going to be the standard diplomatic stuff—tours, a dinner, and a speech. The Federation already has a strong planet with Ewle, so friendly questions about cultures are encouraged and expected; in a few days, Ewle will be the newest member."

There were murmured words of understanding around the table. Uhura caught his eye, a small smile on his face, and he knew she had noticed his attention drifting. He mentally chided himself, redoubling his focus.

"Is there anything I forgot to cover, Mister Spock?" Jim asked, turning to him.

"A simple reminder, Captain," Spock responded instantly, grateful for his ability to accurately divide his attention. "The common form of a respectful greeting on Ewle is similar to a bow. The right hand touches the left shoulder and the left hand touches the right elbow while bending at the waist."

Jim's face split into a smile as he snapped his fingers. "Of course! Think you can handle that one, Bones?" he joked.

"Very funny, Jim."

The grin sobered. "This mission is volunteer-based. If there is any point before your trial that you want to back out, let me know. Ewle is friendly territory, and as important as this is, we won't be starting any wars by not participating in the trials." Unexpectedly, Jim turned to him, eyes thoughtful. "That applies to you, too, Mister Spock."

Spock inclined his head, and something warm filled him. He and Jim both knew, of course, that he would not leave the planet while Jim was still on it, but he appreciated his ashayam's thoughtfulness regardless—if only the man would apply the same principles to himself.

The rest of the away team shared that sentiment, it seemed. Looking around the expressions of those at the table, Spock was reminded of how humans had achieved space travel. Sheer stubbornness and a refusal to believe that they were incapable placed them in the stars long before their technology made it a logical course of action. The people who sat here now, his friends and crewmates, were no exception to that. Indeed, they exemplified it. It would take far more than a threat of discomfort to keep them from their exploration.

"Alright then. Be at the transporter room in an hour and fifteen minutes. Our luggage is being beamed down separately."

This time, Spock stood with the rest of the away team, pausing only a moment by Jim's side before leaving the room. Doctor McCoy would want to speak with the man, he knew, and there were still a few more things he had to prepare before he left the Enterprise.

. . .

"What was that between you and Spock in the hallway?" Bones asked, rolling his chair over to Jim's.

"Hm?" Bones rolled his eyes, and Jim couldn't help the small spark of satisfaction in his chest at the movement. He loved his friend, but annoying him was too easy.

"Just seems like he's been...different lately around you."

Jim stiffened in his seat. Had news of Spock's slip-up made it all the way down to Sickbay? "It's nothing, Bones. We're both just a little stressed about the trials."

The way Bones' eyebrow climbed told Jim he didn't buy his excuse, but thankfully he didn't press the issue. "I don't know why I bother," he grumbled. Then, his eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "When we get off that planet, you aren't leaving Sickbay for at least a day."

"Nothing's even happened yet! Do you have so little faith in me, Bones?" Jim asked, pasting on a grin he knew his friend would see right through.

"It's not about faith, Jim. It's not even about you being 'strong enough' or whatever other nonsense your brain comes up with. Science tells me that an experience like the one you're about to have is likely to trigger all the stuff you've got buried under the surface. It's normal. I just want you to know ahead of time so that it isn't a surprise."

Jim had already done his hair for the day, but he couldn't resist the urge to run his fingers through it as he leaned forward, eyes closing. "I have done things like this a few times before, Bones, remember?"

He didn't need to open his eyes to know his friend was frowning. Bones probably had files and frequency charts about those incidents documenting all of his sleeplessness and paranoia and anxiety. His hands fell from his hair and tightened into fists on the table, and it took a conscious effort for him to relax them and open his eyes.

The expression on Bones' face wasn't pity—it never had been—but it was sad. They gazed at each other for a few more moments, each replaying conversations they had had hundreds of times before hundreds of missions. Eventually, Bones nodded to himself and stood from his seat. Jim watched him leave the conference room, lingering a few moments longer himself before standing and squaring his shoulders.

"I'm James T. Kirk, captain of the USS Enterprise," he whispered into the silence, and some of his tension faded, because with the Enterprise came his crew, and with his crew, he could do just about anything.

. . .

The capital city of Ewle turned out to be beautiful, although Jim had trouble focusing on his surroundings enough to truly appreciate it. They had been met by a party consisting of Ambassador Hchun and the four Trial Masters when they had beamed down to the planet, and were now on a tour of the city, with the ultimate destination being the quarters that had been prepared for them. There would be a formal welcome feast later that night, but they would have a few hours to rest first, something that Jim was immensely grateful for.

Unease pressed against his mind even more strongly now that he was standing on the surface of the planet with his own two feet. He tried to force himself to focus on the ambassador's words—he was providing energetic answers to a number of questions that Spock had asked about one of the buildings they had passed—but the sounds slipped away from him without making any impression on his mind. Eventually, he gave up, relying on Spock and the others to carry the conversation in his stead.

There really wasn't a reason to be nervous, he knew. The drug had been analyzed and the Ewleans were their allies—this wasn't a life or death situation by any means. Unfortunately, his mind didn't seem to care. Maybe if he had beamed down and then immediately been thrown into the trials it would have been easier; his brain wouldn't have had time to overthink every little detail and make all the wonderful connections to his past that it had. This was why he had to resist the urge to laugh whenever someone at Command told him he would make a good ambassador.

Eventually, the tour ended, and Jim found himself standing in the middle of a room with four beds. He vaguely remembered thanking the ambassador for the tour and accepting the key to the quarters, but if someone had quizzed him on what had happened in the last forty-five minutes, he would have failed. Stars, he couldn't afford to be like this at the feast tonight!

"There's another room with two beds in it a little further down the hallway," Nurse Chapel's voice called.

Jim shook himself once, shoving all of his anxiety and other thoughts into a deep place in his mind and locking the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spock quirk an eyebrow, but the Vulcan didn't say anything, and Jim stepped out of the room and into the hallway, where Bones, Sulu, Chapel, and Uhura stood.

"There are four beds in this room. Uhura and Chapel, you want to take the other?"

The women shared a glance and then nodded. "Alright, let's get situated and then meet back in the front room in an hour or so to go over the briefing for the dinner. There's a few cultural things I want to make sure we get right tonight."

The group murmured their agreement and filed off, Uhura and Chapel to their rooms, Bones and Sulu mentioning something about finding a kitchen or pantry. Jim headed back to the bedroom where he would be sleeping.

It was a spacious room, with two beds along opposite walls. There was a door in the back wall that Jim figured led to a bathroom, as he hadn't seen any others in his short exploration of their assigned quarters. The entrance to the complex had led to a sitting-room-like space and then down a flight of stairs to a large hallway where the two bedrooms were located. There was another flight of stairs on the opposite end of the hallway, and he could hear Bones stomping down them now as he and Sulu explored deeper. All in all, they were good accommodations, far better than many places he had stayed while planet-side.

If only they were above ground.

He sighed and fell back onto one of the narrow beds closest to the door. It was surprisingly soft and he felt some of the tension ebb away, melting into the comforter. Unfortunately, he couldn't stay here for the rest of the day, and after a few minutes he forced himself to sit up.

Their luggage had been beamed down separately and was piled along the back wall, and he swung his feet off the bed to grab his. Then he paused, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

Kneeling on the ground between his bed and the other on this wall, was Spock. The Vulcan was meticulously arranging his meditation mat and incense. Jim watched his movements, entranced by the careful precision Spock put into everything, even something as simple as unrolling his mat. He wasn't sure Spock would bring his meditation supplies—he often meditated without them on away missions such as these—but he was glad he had.

Spock must have felt his eyes on him, for he turned, still kneeling, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

"It's nothing, Mister Spock," Jim said, standing from his bed. "It's just good to see you brought your meditation supplies."

"As it is highly probable that I and the rest of the away team will be under a considerable amount of stress over the next four days, I thought it the most logical option," Spock answered. There seemed to be a fraction of a second of hesitation, as if the Vulcan was going to add something else, but the moment passed.

"Of course." Spock turned back to the wall, moving to set up his incense burner, and Jim crossed the room to their luggage. He had only a single bag of clothes and toiletries, along with his personal PADD, and he unpacked quickly, putting the clothes into the small dresser at the foot of his bed and sliding the bag under the bed after taking out his PADD.

There were a few messages on it, and he read through them carefully, leaning against the pillows as he did so. They were mostly just reports from Scotty on the state of the ship and a few last minute things from Command. Apparently the final negotiation, which Spock would be in charge of if the trials went according to plan, was going to be recorded and released on the holonet for Federation citizens to watch.

"Have you seen the message from Command?" he asked, scanning the report for a second time.

"Are you referring to the message regarding the negotiation ceremony, Captain?" Spock asked, drawing Jim's eyes up from the PADD and over to where Spock sat, cross-legged, on his bed, boots placed neatly at the foot and PADD in hand.

Jim couldn't help the small grin that pulled at his lips. Spock looked so...relaxed. If there had been a desk in the room, Jim had no doubt that's where Spock would be, but Jim felt as if he were seeing a side of the Vulcan he rarely had the chance to witness. It almost made this entire trip worth it.

"That's the one. Are you still okay with taking the role of negotiator?" Jim knew Spock disliked being the center of attention. It didn't make him uncomfortable—his friend had stated several times before that Vulcan's were not affected by such circumstances—but it wasn't where he preferred to be.

"I am."

Jim's grin widened. "Of course."

They fell into silence then, but it was a comfortable one. When it came time to brief for the dinner, there was energy zipping underneath Jim's skin, and some of the bounce in his step had returned.