Leonard did not consider himself a bad doctor.
Yes, there were complaints his bedside manner left much to be desired. He was not a man known for his calm or gentle nature, but he tried. Most of the time. Some of the time. In fact, he was drawing from reserves of patience he didn't know he had for this instance alone.
"Ma'am, I can smell you're in estrous. Please use the inflatable knot in your new quarters before it triggers the others."
The Vulcan omega in question was sweating and pale but otherwise expressed no emotion. Her stoicism impressed Leonard.
"Doctor," she said. "You are an outsider and cannot understand. This should not be happening. I was not to go into heat for four more years."
Years?
"It isn't unheard of for mating cycles to start early from extreme stress or encountering a true mate. The best way to deal with them is to take a partner or use a mechanical aid." He held out said item, filled to the recommended level of synthetic semen. Leonard felt foolish explaining this to an elderly omega more than twice his age. It made sense that the Vulcans were a bunch of repressed prudes. He had too many patients to personally hold her hand through this though.
She shook her head. "I will perish if I enter heat without an established mate. Mine is dead. I need medicine."
He eyeballed her. She looked convinced she would die. What did he know? Leonard didn't specialize in Vulcan reproductive health. His thesis focused on cross-species pathogen transmission and its prevention and treatment. He sighed.
"Look, I'll whip up a cocktail to pump the brakes, but we must isolate you now." The alphas and betas in the room were getting twitchy. One of them approached him.
"All Vulcans should enter isolation," said an alpha elder. "There is a precedent for cycles syncing in times of disaster and great loss."
Damn it.
Leonard felt the hair on the nape of his neck prickle. It was beginning to stink in his Medical Bay. He was grateful pheromones no longer affected him after his vasectomy. That didn't mean he was comfortable, though. His staff was not equipped for this particular emergency either. Mating epidemics were no laughing matter.
"Nurse Chapel," he barked.
"Yes, sir?"
"Start replicating axonal, melorazine, cyproheptadine, and Supprimiolfac. I'll administer doses within the hour." Leonard grimaced. "Lower the temperature and lights in here. Once the Quartermaster assigns their quarters, do the same for their rooms."
Christine nodded and began wrangling a sense of order in the confusion. Leonard found himself ushered to the side with the Vulcan elder that had broken the bad news.
He kept his voice low. "Doctor," he said. "My son, Spock will not need a dose. He is already prescribed a suppressant."
Leonard squinted and reviewed the acting Captain's medical record. It intrigued him to find Spock was only half Vulcan. His brow furrowed as he read Spock's designation: omega.
"Thank you," he told the older Vulcan. "What's your name?"
"I am Sarek."
"Doctor McCoy," he responded. "If you don't mind, I'll speak with the Captain in person. He needs to be apprised of the situation."
"Understood," Sarek said. "I will accompany you."
"Fine."
Leonard didn't want to see the green-blooded hobgoblin after their last encounter. Maybe having his dad nearby would make the bastard act a little nicer. He left further instructions with Chapel and trudged to Deck 1.
It was a ruckus when they got there. From what he gathered, Jim hadn't the good sense God gave a rock and managed to board with another stowaway. They were being marched to the bridge by security.
"Sir," Leonard murmured to Spock. "I need to speak with you."
"I have no time for more of your colorful colloquialisms in defense of your friend, Doctor."
"That's not why I'm here," he groused. "I have to talk with you about—"
"Not. Now," the Vulcan snarled. His pointed ears and fair cheeks flushed a pale green.
The omega curling his lips stunned the doctor. It just wasn't done to an alpha. Leonard frowned and did something considered ungentlemanly where he was raised. He deeply inhaled, trying to detect the omega's scent. He identified a trashy chemical version of a beta's pheromones. And...and dessert? It smelled akin to his grandmama's chocolate chip cookies.
Spock gaped at him, eyes dark with anger. "You dare?"
"Damn it," grumbled Leonard. "Damn it, man. You're in heat."
"I am not an ome— "
They were torn from their discussion as the doors to the bridge opened to reveal Jim and several others. Spock walked away from Leonard, the lines of his body taut with outrage. The good doctor was overcome with a sense that 'shit was about to hit the fan'.
"Who are you?" Spock demanded.
"I'm with him," the man gestured to the blond alpha.
Kirk repeated, "He's with me."
Spock initiated a dominance display. "We are traveling at warp speed. How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?"
"Well, you're the genius, you figure it out," Kirk said.
"As acting Captain of this vessel, I order you to answer the question."
"Well, I'm not telling, acting Captain."
Spock imagined the bridge's judgemental eyes pressed against his shields. Doctor McCoy had told them of his omega designation, he was sure of it. His face was ablaze with shame. Kirk stared, unbothered as he had not been earlier.
"What, did…That doesn't frustrate you, does it?" The alpha smirked. "My lack of cooperation? That doesn't make you angry."
Spock swung his attention to the other stowaway. "Are you a member of Starfleet?"
The man, a beta, acted surprised to be addressed. "I...Yes. Can I get a towel, please?"
"Under penalty of court-martial, I order you to explain to me how you were able to beam aboard this ship while moving at warp," he demanded
"Well—"
"Don't answer him," Kirk interrupted.
Using what strength he could muster, Spock attempted to replicate an alpha command. "You will answer me."
The beta grew flustered. "I'd rather not take sides."
"What is it with you, Spock?" Kirk stepped into his space, redirecting Spock's focus on him. "Your planet was destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset."
Spock took a conscious effort not to retreat. His hands trembled once as he held his ground, control slipping an iota. "If you are presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship, you are mistaken."
Kirk's eyes flicked up from Spock's lips. "And yet, you are the one who said fear was necessary for command. I mean, did you see his ship? Did you see what he did?"
"Yes," Spock said. "Of course I did." He was struggling not to inhale the scent of ozone emanating from the alpha.
He wanted more.
"So are you afraid or aren't you?"
"I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion."
They were close. Approximately 25.78 centimeters apart.
"Then why don't you stop me?" Kirk asked.
Spock's heartbeat palpitated within his side. "Step away from me, Mr. Kirk."
"What is it like not to feel anger? Or heartbreak?" the alpha besieged him, unrelenting. "Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?"
Mother.
"Back away from me," he hissed.
Kirk shouted, "You feel nothing!"
Spock remembered Sarek, T'Pring, Stonn, Ca-Allad, and even Nyota had wanted or believed so. But never Amanda.
"It must not even compute for you."
Spock's fingers clenched, nails biting into palms. Kirk was an alpha, and no one would step in. He had to flee, needed to—
"You never loved her!"
He swung his fist, and it released a floodgate. Spock grabbed the alpha's shirt and flung him across the room. Instead of running, as his instincts begged of him, Spock continued to attack. Kirk blocked once, twice, but the brunt of his force was too powerful to withstand. He cried out in fury and knocked the alpha against the tactical interface panel. Kirk rolled onto his back, but Spock pinned him by the throat with one hand and began to squeeze.
With their proximity, he smelled everything: ozone, petrichor, vetiver. Intertwining with those scents now was chocolate, caramel, and salt. It was divine. He despised it.
Without his intention, Spock's mind reached through the skin-on-skin connection. He basked in the warmth and chaos that was Kirk. The roof of Spock's curated hallway of doors was violently forced away. It was as if suffering a catastrophic tempest that threatened to bring down the heavens. There were stars above.
Blue eyes peered beneath pale lashes. Kirk felt no rage or panic. Below him, the alpha thrashed and choked but otherwise did not resist. Spock sensed the other's submission throughout his body, and it lit his own; sparks in a bonfire. Slick slipped between his legs for the first time in years.
"Spock!"
It was Sarek. His alpha father commanded him to...to do what?
Spock wrenched his arm away as if burned. Where he had touched Kirk flickered and smoldered. A chill gripped him in icy tendrils.
Kirk's desperate gasps were the only sound he could hear on the bridge. Spock stared at him in horror. He turned to face his father. Sarek's expression was unrecognizable. Nyota was staring at Spock as if she finally understood what an abomination he was.
Spock bowed his head and retreated from the delicious scent emanating from the alpha. He stood in a daze and without purpose near McCoy.
"Doctor, I am no longer fit for duty." The words sounded foreign to his ears. "I hereby relinquish my command, based on the fact that I have been emotionally compromised." Vulcans did not cry, he reminded himself. "Please note the time and date in the ship's log." He fled the bridge, his body mechanically pulled through the motions.
Sarek discovered Spock standing at attention on the transporter pad. The room was empty, but it reeked of distressed omega. Burnt sugar, pungent aroma of rancid caramel, and bitter notes of salt. He had forgotten the temperamental scent of his youngest progeny.
"Speak your mind, Spock," he said.
Spock swallowed but did not face him. "That would be unwise."
"What is necessary is never unwise."
Softly, "I am as conflicted as I once was as a child."
He recalled the conversation.
"You suggest that I should be completely Vulcan, and yet you married a human."
"Marrying your mother was…logical."
Sarek reached for his bond with Amanda and recoiled at the gaping wound left. There was only scorched emptiness.
"You will always be a child of two worlds," he admitted. "I am grateful for this. And for you."
Spock turned. "I feel anger for the one who took Mother's life. An anger I cannot control."
Sarek approached his son, struggling with the dizziness that always predated his rut. Their time would be upon them within hours, but this matter was significant.
"I believe that she would say, 'Do not try to'." Sarek ached for her. "You asked me once why I married your mother."
Spock was staring at him with striking dark eyes. The same human, brown eyes he had adored in Amanda.
"I married her because I loved her." Sarek turned and shivered; the beginnings of a fever. "We must go to Medical for treatment at once. I am perturbed that your scent is detectable despite taking a suppressant." Spock was silent. "Unless there is an issue?" he speculated. The chemical fragrance of sotolon intensified.
"No," he promised. "Nothing you should concern yourself with, Father."
"Come with me," Sarek said. "I will guard you to your quarters for isolation."
"There is a matter I must resolve before joining you."
The alpha gazed at his offspring and discerned the stirrings of apprehension. He did not press further though. Spock would never deceive him and ignore his heat.
"Do not tarry," he reminded. "Pon Farr will come upon us within hours."
"Affirmative, Father."
He returned to the Captain's quarters. It was not reassigned yet; his authorization was still valid. Spock showered and doused himself in artificial beta pheromones. He replicated and wore a heat wrap to absorb what was an embarrassing amount of slick. It was…sufficiently thick, and thus cumbersome. Spock wasted no time with humiliation, though. He marched to the bridge.
Chekov was excitedly explaining to Kirk his idea pertaining to their concealment by Titan. The unnamed stowaway beta agreed, but Doctor McCoy appeared skeptical.
"Wait a minute, kid, how old are you?"
"Seventeen, sir," he proudly announced.
Doctor McCoy scowled. "Oh, good, he's seventeen." The 'unpresented' was unsaid.
Spock interjected, "Doctor." They turned to him, startled by his return. "Mr. Chekov is correct. I can confirm his telemetry. If Mr. Sulu is able to maneuver us into position, I can beam aboard Nero's ship, steal back the black hole device, and, if possible, bring back Captain Pike." He did not divulge his other goals.
Blue eyes captured his own, steady and unchallenging. They were sincere in a way Spock had yet to observe until now. Command suited the alpha, he thought with bitterness.
"I won't allow you to do that, Mr. Spock."
Spock tilted his head. It was tiresome being told what to do. So, he argued, "Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry. Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship's computer to locate the device," he lied. "Also, my mother was human, which makes Earth the only home I have left."
Everyone but Nyota and Kirk averted their gaze. It had been an effective tactic to appeal to their emotions. Kirk stepped into Spock's space, and Spock breathed through his mouth. He refused to be overcome by the alpha's scent again.
"Then I'm coming with you," Kirk declared.
Spock tore his scrutiny from the entrancing color of the human's vermillion zone. "I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it."
Kirk chuckled. "See? We are getting to know each other." The Captain slapped his left bicep in the human gesture of camaraderie and walked away.
The strike had stung and then tingled pleasantly. Spock stared after the alpha, eyes dark. This would not do. He would endeavor to avoid physical contact with anyone, if feasible.
Especially the Captain.
Kirk struggled to keep pace with Spock in the trek to the transporter room. Uhura was following, making last-minute adjustments to their universal translators and comms. She hoped to counteract the other ship's shielding. She muttered something regarding wavelengths and distortions. It was hard to follow since she was mumbling in Orion Prime. Gaila had only taught him the basics.
"How are we, Scotty?"
Scotty, now dry and fed a ration bar from Kirk's stash, answered cheerfully. "Unbelievably, sir, the ship is in position."
Kirk pressed the commlink for the bridge. "Whatever happens, Mr. Sulu, if you think you have the tactical advantage, you fire on that ship, even if we're still on board. That's an order."
"Yes, sir."
"Otherwise we'll contact the Enterprise when we're ready to be beamed back," he finished.
Sulu sounded somber, "Good luck."
Satisfied, Kirk stepped onto the transporter pad. He prepared to give the order when he noticed Spock and Uhura embracing. The Vulcan was scenting her.
"Thank you, Nyota."
Kirk withheld a growl, astonished by his own visceral reaction. First, Uhura's name was 'Nyota'? Second, did this mean she and Spock were in a relationship? Third, why did it feel like the air had left the room? He cleared his throat.
Uhura stood beside Scotty, only giving Kirk a swift glare as if daring him to say anything.
Scotty interrupted Kirk's obsessive curiosity. "Okey-dokey, then, if there's any common sense in the design of the enemy ship, I should be putting you somewhere in the Cargo Bay. Shouldn't be a soul in sight."
"Energize," Kirk commanded.
Beams of light circled him and Spock. The room they transported into was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Kirk scented the air, hoping to detect the enemy before they did the same. He tried again. There was…nothing. Not even residual scents from prolonged periods of occupancy.
His focus on his damn nose nearly earned him a fried face, courtesy of some very present, definitely there, Romulans. The heat singed his hair.
Shit.
Kirk dodged to his right and pulled out his phaser in one practiced motion. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spock duck and roll. The alpha's hackles bristled. He wouldn't let harm befall Spock.
Hoping the other would follow, Kirk ran from the shouting. He fired sporadically to provide them some cover. The air hummed with the deadly vibrations of return phaser discharge. He loaded a charge and spared a glance at the beta beside him. Spock was picking them off with lethal precision. Kirk preferred getting up close and personal.
Once his weapon started to overheat, he lunged towards a hulking brute of a Romulan. He used the butt of the phaser to smash the side of his temple.
Thud.
Kirk grinned victoriously, blood pumping him full of adrenaline. It felt good, fighting again.
They pinpointed where the return volley was emitting. Spock and he took a defensive position behind a crate. Again, the Vulcan began to methodically target and annihilate their enemies. Kirk admired his form before reminding himself he had a fucking job to do.
Think!
They were not in the Cargo Bay. Not that Scotty was at fault, the design was contrary to practical methods of engineering. But, if they were not in the Cargo Bay, how did they find their way through this madness? The alpha changed his setting from 'kill' to 'stun'. It was obvious.
They needed to ask for directions.
He was lucky he got the last bad guy before Spock wasted him. Kirk did a visual sweep of the area while Spock crept forward, still in a crouch. A piercing headache bloomed in the center of his skull. He thought for a moment that he saw a different Spock reaching for an older man's meld points. A story was exchanged between them without a word.
This…wasn't his.
Still, it was useful information. Kirk jerked his chin towards the prone body. "Think you can get something from him? I'll cover you."
Spock looked perplexed. He hesitated. "Are you certain?"
The alpha avoided his gaze, feeling overwhelmed once again with a surge of adrenaline. "Yeah, I got you," he promised. He had to focus, but his blood was on fire. He was blinking away tears as he spotted someone skulking behind the beta, out of sight. Rage forced the headache at bay and left him cold. Kirk shot the Romulan, restraining himself from firing three more times to be sure.
Kirk stationed himself behind Spock and surveyed the room. They were safe for now. But…what was that smell?
Focus.
"Do you know where it is?" he whispered. "The black hole device?
"And Captain Pike."
Kirk shook his head and snorted, ridding himself of Spock's terrible beta stench as the other drew close. It was awful. He was pretty sure he didn't want to emotionally compromise the Vulcan again by telling him so. Spock tilted his head.
"Lead the way," Kirk said.
Spock and he jogged as covertly as two grown humanoids could in a strange environment. Along the way, Spock was whispering directions for how to reach Chris. Kirk was thankful he had a spectacular spatial imagination and memory. Once the route lay etched in his mind, they both fell silent.
The ship beneath their feet rumbled.
Nero had activated the drill.
Spock accelerated, and Kirk wheezed behind him. Sure this was a good spot to watch the beta's six o'clock, but his lagging was mainly attributed to the attempted murder from said beta earlier. He hadn't processed that yet.
They spotted Ambassador Spock's vessel and paused. She was kind of cute and indeed reminded him of a jellyfish. Another spike of pain laced through his temples. Memories from the mind-meld surfaced like a beached whale.
They boarded the ship. It surprised Kirk to find that she was exactly how he remembered. Shiny and new, as if built yesterday and on her maiden voyage. In a way it was true?
"I foresee a complication," Spock interrupted his train of thought. "The design of their ship is far more advanced than I had anticipated."
"Voice print and facial recognition analysis enabled. " The computer's voice was calm and even. "Welcome back, Ambassador Spock."
Way to screw him and his very important secrets, Kirk groaned internally. "Wow, that's weird," he said, unconvincingly, brushing past Spock.
Behind him, he heard Spock address the voice. "Computer, what is your manufacturing origin?"
"Stardate 2387. Commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy."
Kirk threw the console a dirty look. Guess he had to power through it and play dumb. He started doing a preflight safety check. Everything was right where he would have guessed. Almost as if he had designed her. His head throbbed in protest, invaded by another memory.
"It appears that you have been keeping important information from me."
It was not a question, so Kirk deigned not to answer. "You're gonna be able to fly this thing, right?"
Spock was right behind him. Kirk turned to face him, dwindling the space between them even further.
Oh.
They were as close as they had been during their fight.
Kirk inhaled, and the moment was gone. For some reason, he detested Spock's scent. Which was odd, because he didn't remember him smelling this bad on the bridge. In fact, he had only recently started to detect and differentiate specific pheromones. That didn't usually happen unless he was in rut. Which was impossible, because he wasn't due for another two months, so how—
"Something tells me, I already have."
Right, right, the mission. Focus.
"Good luck." He turned to leave, mind mapping his way to Chris.
Spock's "Jim" froze him in his tracks. His headache was magically gone. It returned when the Vulcan continued. "The statistical likelihood that our plan will succeed is less than 4.3%." He hated knowing the odds.
"It'll work," he assured the beta.
"In the event that I do not return, please tell Lieutenant Uhura—"
"Spock!" There was no way he was listening to Spock wax poetic about Uhura, or the Vulcan equivalent. Plus, the idea of the other never returning was…not good. "It'll work," he repeated, willing it so.
As he left, he heard Spock mutter, "Fascinating."
It felt wrong leaving Spock; something was tearing his brain to shreds. But Kirk selfishly rationalized that the beta was safer on the Jellyfish than if he stayed with him. Still…
Kirk watched with bated breath as she ascended gracefully in the air. The ship was a marvel. He hoped he had the chance to take her apart and put her together someday.
He wasted no more time and began to creep across the corridor to his left, weapon ready. He almost got caught but hid from the large group of passing Romulans. Kirk's luck did not hold when he entered the final open nodule to his destination. He raised his phaser and took sight of the lone figure blocking his trajectory.
Nero.
He didn't think the other had caught a whiff of him yet, so he angled into a better position. The alpha hormones began to surge through his body. Something prevented him from firing someone with their back turned.
Kirk snarled a challenge.
Nero whirled to face him, he had been scanning the walkway below them. Kirk was happy he listened to Spock instead of bumbling around like an idiot. Now he had the advantage.
Still, he was playing Captain, and that meant diplomacy.
Alpha command heavy in his throat, Kirk said, "Nero, order your men to disable the drill, or I will—"
The attack on his right was out of nowhere. He kept expecting some form of smell to indicate their vicinity, but there was only emptiness. His phaser knocked right over the edge of the walkway.
Kirk grappled at his assailant's knees, hoping to knock him to his level. The Romulan faltered but managed to kick Kirk's teeth in again.
Fuck.
Recovering, Kirk created some distance between them so as not to get kicked again. Not so far that the bad guy's rifle was effectively usable. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk made out the shadowy figure of Nero approaching at an alarming speed. Knowing there was little time before they outnumbered him, he threw a series of punches at the other. He even managed to land a couple of blows.
Unfortunately, Nero intervened, giving his buddy a chance to catch his bearings. The way they safeguarded one another caused anxiety to curdle in his stomach. They watched each other's asses. It already made them better than the drunks he had fought prior to Starfleet. Kirk growled, deep in his chest, and feinted. Then he swarmed close and powerful.
Nero seemed shocked at the vigor of his strikes. Until that other damn Romulan blindsided him. This time, the other had done a full-body tackle and managed to keep Kirk prone. Alpha or not, facing a pair of coordinated brawlers with inhuman strength was a little over the top for him.
The two Romulans battered at him, again, and again, and again. Kirk tried to protect himself, but he knew he was in trouble when they broke his right arm and ribs. They relented, having to catch their breath. The second Romulan gaped while Kirk viciously wrenched his body upright.
"I know your face from Earth's history," Nero taunted.
Kirk kept his right arm tucked close to his side, and lashed out with his left leg, doing a front leg side kick. He felt a satisfying crunch.
Romulan number two was lunging for him again, so he did a sloppy hook kick and then curb-stomped the asshole. Kirk wasn't quick enough in his recovery, and suffered a knee to the groin and a punch to the stomach, courtesy of Nero.
The wind knocked out of his sails.
Nero continued, "James T. Kirk was considered to be a great man. He went on to captain the U.S.S. Enterprise. But that was another life." Kirk did the smart move and retreated out of range, gasping for air. "A life I will deprive you of, just like I did your father."
When Nero shifted to punch him again, Kirk was ready. He caught his wrist and bashed his knee up through Nero's elbow.
Another satisfying crunch.
Nero screamed, a mad man. Kirk smiled savagely. The bloodlust was growing, and soon he wouldn't slow from pain anymore. Behind him, he heard the second Romulan groaning and standing.
No longer wasting his energy on fancy maneuvers, Kirk side-kicked Nero to his face, his chest, his knees. The other was not able to fend him off. The alpha howled in triumph as the lunatic collapsed. Kirk hadn't learned his lesson though.
Like a bad case of STDs, the freshly curb stomped and bleeding Romulan rose with a weapon in hand. Kirk heard the whir of it arming and froze.
The ship rumbled below them.
A gruff voice rang out over the intercom, "Captain Nero. The Vulcan ship has been taken. The drill has been destroyed."
Kirk smiled through the blood and grime. Spock had done it.
Nero lost all control. He screamed, at the top of his lungs, "Spock!" The deranged Romulan let out a primal scream. "SPOCK!"
"Go," said the Romulan holding the rifle. "I've got him."
Nero didn't even wait for confirmation, he was running as if chased by demons. Probably to the bridge. Once he was out of range, Kirk turned around, hands raised in surrender. The other was smart and had the weapon pointed at the alpha.
"So it's just you and me now," Kirk said.
There was fear in the Romulan's eyes. He lifted the nozzle of the gun from Kirk's chest to his face in a clear warning.
Kirk waited.
"How is your species so much stronger than I expected?" the Romulan questioned. "We were told we could easily overpower you. That you were weak."
Kirk didn't take the bait.
They circled one another, Kirk wolfishly stalking his prey. He prepared to risk it when the ship went to warp.
It wasn't a significant jolt, but it was enough of an opening for Kirk to lunge for the rifle. The Romulan fired a moment too late, and the barrel pointed harmlessly to the side. The alpha had to use both arms. Ignoring the sickening grinding of his broken bones he pulled with pure brute force.
It was enough.
"I got your gun," Kirk growled. Then he shot the other point-blank.
Kirk stood a moment, reeling. His head was pounding, and he potentially had some internal bleeding. Whatever, that's where the blood is supposed to be. He grinned, teeth stained crimson. Bones was going to kill him.
There wasn't much time now. If they destroyed the drill, Nero and his crew were likely pursuing Spock. Which was good for Earth, but meant he had no idea where they were going. He had to get Chris now.
Kirk walked with renewed purpose and a slight limp. Apparently, he had strained it more than he realized. Stealth wasn't an option anymore. He was grateful he was ambidextrous and holding the rifle in his undamaged arm was not a hindrance. Despite his extensive head trauma, he remembered Spock's directions.
Let's see, just ahead. Take a left at the yellow sign, down these stairs…
He felt the ship discharging torpedos.
Spock!
Determined not to lose focus, Kirk began firing on the guards that stood in his way. It was astonishing he did manage to sneak up on them. Now he had a clear path to Chris. There he was, strapped to a gurney. Jim surveyed the room while cutting through the man's restraints.
"What are you doing here?"
Kirk couldn't help beaming, giddy as if he had pulled off the greatest trick. In a way, he had.
"Just following orders," he answered. The alpha focused on setting his mentor free. And that was mistake number three thousand. He was relying on his sense of smell to warn him of anyone approaching. That's how another Romulan snuck in Kirk's blind spot.
Chris, injured as he was, had the reflexes quick enough to draw Kirk's weapon and shoot.
"You're pretty spry for an old man, you know that?" he joked.
He spent precious minutes untangling Chris. Then dragging them out of what he was mentally calling the torture cave. Kirk was uneasy leaving the rifle, but there was no way he would manage both. It didn't matter in the end.
Once they were a suitable distance from the reinforced walls, Kirk shouted in his comm, "Enterprise, now!"
The lights danced, and he was home.
Spock stood beside him as if he had always been there.
"Nice timing, Scotty!" he cheered.
The Scotsman laughed, arms raised in victory. "I've never beamed three people from two targets onto one pad before!"
Bones rushed in, followed by his new posse. "Jim!"
"Bones!" It was reassuring to see his friend's grumpy face.
Kirk let out a brief sigh of relief handing off Chris to the triage team. He had to beat them off from him as well, but he had to be where the action was. Movements strangely in sync, he and the Vulcan jogged to the Bridge. Neither saying a word.
Chekov greeted them with good news, "Captain, the enemy ship is losing power! Their shields are down, sir."
"Hail them now," he ordered.
"Aye."
On the viewscreen: unadulterated chaos. A lightning storm in space. How poetic. Nero's bashed-in, ugly face soon appeared. There was not an ounce of recognition in his eyes.
"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise," he reminded the Romulan. "Your ship is compromised. You're too close to the singularity to survive without assistance, which we are willing to provide.
Spock turned from Nero. Kirk shielded him from the viewscreen with his body and took a calming breath.
Which was a mistake.
How was it possible to smell both the best and the worst odors in the world at once?
"Captain, what are you doing?"
He lowered his voice, "Showing them compassion may be the only way to earn peace with Romulus." Spock's face was painted red, before the lights from the viewscreen faded to black, and back to red. "It's logic, Spock. I thought you'd like that?"
The Vulcan caught his gaze with captivating dark eyes and seemed to be weighing the options. Or perhaps his opinion of Kirk.
His lips curled to a frown. "No, not really. Not this time."
Kirk wasn't sure if he was imagining the rage buried deep beneath that collected tone.
"I would rather suffer the end of Romulus a thousand times," Nero declared. His eyes were bright with fervent hatred as he delved into another rant. "I would rather die in agony than accept assistance from you."
The alpha felt a burning satisfaction.
"You got it." He walked to his chair. "Arm phasers. Fire everything we've got."
"Yes, sir."
So maybe he was a little vindictive? Kirk was pretty sure no one would fault them.
He watched the light show from his seat. He made a point not to notice that Spock had claimed a seat at the science station. It was kind of getting weird being super aware of the Vulcan. He wasn't an enemy, after all. Not like the ones currently sucked into the maw of death and darkness.
"Sulu, let's go home."
"Yes, sir!" The pilot was hastily turning them around.
The ship began to hum as if they were at warp. But they weren't moving.
"Why aren't we at warp?" he demanded.
Sulu was flipping switches on over time.
"We are, sir," came Chekov's strained answer.
Shit.
"Kirk to Engineering. Get us out of here, Scotty," he ordered.
A frantic, "You bet your ass, Captain!" was all he could hear.
Everything was shaking and shaking and shaking.
"Captain, we're caught in the gravity well! It's got us!" shouted Scotty.
"Go to maximum warp! Push it!"
He barely heard Scotty's reply over the noise, "I'm giving her all she's got, Captain!"
Cracks were forming in the viewscreen, along the walls. Kirk felt her breaking piece by piece.
"All she's got isn't good enough!"
There.
There was the fear. The one Spock had wanted him to feel during the Kobayashi Maru. They were going to die, and there was nothing he could do.
"What else you got?" he begged.
"Okay, if we eject the core and detonate, the blast could be enough to push us away. I cannae promise anything, though!"
"Do it, do it, do it!" he screamed. Kirk was clutching his chair as if he kept her together by sheer force of will alone. This was it. It was the end. And he never even got to—
They were free.
There were his beloved stars again. They were moving. They were alive.
Kirk looked behind him to the science station. Spock was watching him. The alpha laughed, pleased. The Vulcan nodded in turn.
Everything was going to be okay.
And it was.
Until Spock collapsed not two minutes later.
