Spock looked out to the gathered officers as he sat at his own mutiny hearing.
Mutiny.
The word had not yet rested in his mind.
Those gathered before him were his friends; come to see why the most loyal first officer in Starfleet would turn on his Captain and best friend.
In truth, it was not an easy thing to explain… but the Captain had been possessed by the conscious mind of another.
He knew this as certainly as he felt the eyes of his audience drive into him with undeniable shock and want for answers.
Spock could only state what he believed; Janice Lester looked out of James Kirks eyes.
The usurper accused Spock of mutiny.
She, who had commandeered the body of the star ship Captain, accused the Vulcan of wrong-doing and there was nothing but the evidence in Spocks thoughts that could convince those gathered in the room that he was trying to assist the real Captain of the USS Enterprise; a man trapped in the body of the assailant now hitchhiking in his own.
The only course left was to provoke such heated emotions in the body-theif that the crew might see their level-headed Captain was not himself and move to reinstate Spock to command, allowing him to take necessary action.
But those gathered before him looked dubious; they were only human, in the end… And their logical Commander was asking them to believe evidence that only he could understand.
Jim was trapped in someone else's body; humans had such a limited understanding of their own consciousness and what possibilities there were within the mind. They were such external beings that the concept of downloading information from person to person as easily as you could a machine left them sceptical and unwilling to consider the very real threat their Captain now faced.
Spock had hoped there may be one person in the crowd who would believe him… Christine.
But she sat so close to him on the bench… still so far away, hardly looking in his direction.
It caused a pain within him.
He hated that she would be so distant at a time like this… It was not in her nature to withdraw from someone in need.
And he needed her.
She had become so different, no thanks to him. And he found it difficult to adjust to the auburn colour she had tinted her hair… or the cold silence she issued when he was near.
On a few occasions, during the trial, he had noticed her turn away from him when they sat on the witness bench… almost unwilling to share the space with him; such a difference to her delight in sharing consciousness barely a year before.
Regret lanced through him when he saw her reactions.
There had to be a solution to this. There had to be a cure to the pain he had caused.
"I am gratified to see you here, Miss Chapel…" Spock had admitted as the officers gathered in the court room.
"I'm a nurse, Spock," she said, not meeting his eye, "Janice Lester is a very sick woman and I will be monitoring her throughout the trial while Doctor McCoy sits on the judgement panel."
The admission stung and Spock found his hand closing on hers before she moved away.
He withdrew, quietly admitting, "You believe I am guilty."
Her eyes flashed to his and she instantly shook her head, "No. I believe you."
Something soothed within him; but Christine excused herself and sat at the far end of the bench they shared, saying no more.
At least she believed he was not capable of mutiny. It was a small victory, under the circumstances.
The trial continued… Janice Lester confronted James Kirk; neither in their own bodies and both trying to win the Enterprise as their own.
Spock was loyal to his friend and bent solely on helping him… the smallest part of him continued to dwell on the chief nurse.
And though the circumstances began to crumble; McCoy and Scott were encarcerated along with himself and Kirk [in Janice Lesters body], the day was won. Kirk and his crew proved their steadfast loyalty to one another and Starfleet.
Janice Lester and her cohort were safely confined in the brig. All was well aboard the Enterprise and Spock was left in charge of the bridge...
All was quiet in the delayed aftershock of recent events.
The stars passed by them and the quiet of space allowed him the time to consider what had past and what was yet to come.
It was times like this... the quiet times... he wondered what Christine was doing. He even wondered if she was thinking of him.
At the end of the shift, McCoy and Kirk had requested his presence in the Captains quarters... part of him wanted to refuse but another part desired the company of friends more than ever.
So he found himself sat with the humans as they consumed glass after glass of brandy, making their skin glow and muscles relax as they slurred through their conversation.
"It's still something you need to talk over, Jim," McCoy was arguing, almost as soon as Spock had taken a seat at the table.
"What she did to you was theft," the Doctor continued, "It was violation..."
"No," Kirk insisted, throwing the last of the spirit in his glass into his mouth, "I can handle it, Bones... you think I'm the first person to go through something like this? In all the universe, this abuse is, sadly, not uncommon. And I got off lightly!"
"But you were forced into this situation against your will," the Doctor reasoned. "It's damned close to..."
"We know what it's close to," Kirk insisted as Spock listened to the debate. "But she's not in control... Damn it, Bones... I loved the woman once. If I can't find it in myself to forgive her for some small degree of madness... if I can't understand what life can bring people to do... then what am I doing in the Captains chair?"
There was a brief silence…
"But Jim, if nothing else, you need to talk about it. You can't keep it bottled up inside like the pain you feel is shameful."
"Enough!" Kirk insisted, bringing a balled fist down on the table for emphasis. "You're the best of friends for wanting to help. But it will be in my own time."
There was another silence…
Time; Spock thought… perhaps it was a healer… perhaps it was a thorn that caused further pain by presumed disinterest.
What was for the best?
"You've been awfully quiet there, Spock..." McCoy observed, sipping his drink and casting his eye over the Vulcan, "Care to wade in?"
He shook his head, too caught up in the comparison between Lesters invasion of his friend and his own circumstance with Christine... "I have no comment at this time."
McCoy snorted, "Doesn't that make a damned change?"
"Bones, enough!" Kirk insisted, "My decision about Janice is final and I won't hear another word of it."
The Doctor fell silent.
"If she could say something," Spock found himself saying, "if she could do something to prove she regretted her actions…" his friends both frowned at him, waiting for further thought that came to his lips… "if there was something to prove that she regretted her actions and, perhaps, was not in complete control..." he wasn't making sense; this wasn't logical. "Something that articulated her regret and desire for forgiveness… Could you accept that?"
"What are you asking, Spock?" Jim questioned, looking more concerned than confused.
Spock paused a moment; in truth, he did not know... "If she could find the words to make things as they were for you before the incident of her violation of you..." he tried again, "If she could say something in apology… What would it be?"
Jim blinked at him... McCoy observed him in silence.
"There are no words," Jim said, after a time. "There's nothing that can take back any pain or suffering. It was an irreparable damage that was caused." And he finished his drink, pursing his lips against the drink or discomfort, Spock could not be certain, but he continued, "But I know she was not in her right mind... that does make a difference."
Spock found himself frowning. "Then there is nothing that Doctor Lester could do..."
"What?" McCoy waded in, "To fix the situation, Spock? Is that what you are asking?"
He supposed it was.
"Humans can't easily forget such things," the doctor continued, "every action and every though, once it's done is done. Time doesn't let you change your actions… I see that every day. Everything has consequence that there is no going back from; you just have to live with the consequences."
No going back from.
Unforgivable.
No forgetting what had happened?
That couldn't be true… could it?
"Spock," Kirk asked concern marking every millimetre of his expression, "is there something you need to talk to us about?"
The Vulcan in him supressed the need to answer his friend. The Vulcan in him made him silent in the face of such a question…The Vulcan in him presented a stone surface rather than the weak flesh of which he was made.
The two humans in the room remained silent; observing… so he would have to say something to appease them…
"Not that I am aware of," Spock lied.
The looks they gave him showed their doubt, but it was tabled.
"If you will excuse me," Spock found himself saying as he made his way to the exit… "I must meditate on todays events…"
And, indeed, he had much to consider.
While his friends bade him goodnight, Spock wondered; was there no redemption?
()()()()
Christine had showered a thousand times and slept a hundred… nothing changed.
She wasn't the same as before.
She couldn't change that… and remaining on the Enterprise ensured she never would.
And so, she tied her hair back and took a deep breath.
The transfer request was seeking confirmation.
Was she certain she wanted to leave the Enterprise?
There were so many comfortable reasons to face what she was feeling.
Her work.
Her team.
Leonard…
But none of it was enough.
And this role was perfect… no really; a bio-researcher on Deep Space Station J-5… with the lead into a PHD.
It was the reason she joined the Star Fleet.
It was how she met Roger Korby and, through him, became an officer aboard the flag ship of the fleet.
Damn it! She had had a professional agenda!
What felt like a lifetime ago, the universe was filled with possibility and wonder... And now? Now she awaited approval… from the first officer.
The reason she was still here.
She had once thought promotion was a simple process… and all the formality was done before she had returned from shore leave…
But then there was the messed up rescue mission to Camus and the court-martial she had attended… and the faith she felt in HIM.
Spock.
God – why couldn't she hate him?
After all he had done and all she had endured… the rumour and the sideways glances… and his indifference in so many ways and his compassion and concern in so many others.
Damn it.
And she still loved him.
After everything…
Focus… she ordered herself.
No time to look on the hurt of the past.
Of love in ashes and a life she could have had but for so many ways she could have been or should have been.
No! She wasn't thinking of that!
Tears sprang into her eyes, unwanted and uninvited… and she took a sharp, cold breath to try and counter the reaction, only making it worse as her vision blurred.
Control yourself, Christine! She thought, Far worse things have happened to so many people! You don't have the right to feel this!
And though her body shook against what it experienced, she forced resolve; rolling back her shoulders, breathing hard through her mouth and driving her balled fist into the counter until the discomfort of skin and bone cried out against the pressure.
She looked up at the monitor… and hit the submission button.
It was done.
()()()