The Admiralty contacts them early the next morning—not that it feels like morning, because Jim had spent the rest of the night getting together a report on Mela Keset's message, and then finishing the report that he would have filed if shit hadn't gone down on the planet. He'll pay for not sleeping later, he knows, but hopefully by then they'll be out of danger. Them, and the Ambassador, and Treyessa, and Earth…

He considers that this is the point where McCoy or Spock or someone would tell him that protecting the entire universe isn't his responsibility, and he'd respond that it didn't look like anybody else was willing to take on the job. Besides, it's not like he doesn't have a personal problem with these people. Most of the telepathic species in the Federation have strict codes of ethics about their abilities, Vulcans most of all. Still, it took time for humans to get over the fear of someone else having the ability to read their minds. And even now, the idea of telepathic spies makes Jim uneasy in some instinctive way. If they're going to face them again, he should talk to Spock, his Spock, see if there's any method of shielding that would work against another invasion of his mind. If he's recovered enough, that is. Spock's never even missed a shift before; Jim has no idea how long it would take him to overcome whatever happened on the planet. M'Benga had said it shouldn't be more than a day, but he had looked pretty bad when Jim saw him, and that's saying something, given how much Spock normally tries to hide any sort of suffering, pretend nothing's wrong even when it would be far better—and logical, Jim thinks— to accept help.

He just hopes this whole thing doesn't get any worse. It's one thing when he's in danger, but when it's his crew… that's different. That's serious.

~o~

Some of the stress is lifted, at least, when he walks onto the bridge to find Spock standing there as usual as if he hadn't spent the last day totally out of commission because of some creeps they still know next to nothing about. Jim smiles at him, but gets nothing more than a nod in response. And then it's time to talk to the big guns.

Admiral Rankin appears on the screen, and Jim suppresses an annoyed huff. If anyone's likely to make this even more of a mess, it's him. He's already tried to blame Jim for any number of incidents. And he's one of those people who always looks for the military solution first, something Jim can't respect.

"Well, Kirk, I hear you've gotten yourself into trouble again," Rankin says by way of greeting. It's with some effort that Jim politely replies, "Admiral. We request your assistance with-"

"You ran into Mela Keset's people, yes, I know, I read the report. There's nothing for you to do. Continue with your orders. We need you at Dirbanu in two weeks…" What? No, this can't be right.

"Sir," Jim interrupts, "We've just encountered a spy ring, surely we've got to stop them." He realizes that Spock has moved to stand next to him, and that the rest of the bridge crew is staring in confusion at Rankin.

"Follow your orders, Kirk."

"With all due respect, Admiral, these people are dangerous! Spock nearly died stopping them reading my mind-"

"Captain, the risk to my person was not nearly so great as to–"
Jim waves a hand to quiet him. "Not the point, Spock." He looks back at the Admiral.

"Dangerous, Kirk? So's that ship you're commanding. These "spies", as you call them, happen to be Starfleet's best source of intelligence on the Klingon Empire."

"What!? You've hired these bastards?" First Marcus trying to start a war with the Klingons, now this, what's happening in Starfleet?

Rankin is unmoved by this outburst. "If you're going to survive in this universe, you've got to make use of all the resources available," he replies calmly.

"And do you spy on our allies as well?!" Jim is on his feet now, seething with outrage.

"Watch your tone, boy." Beside him Jim feels Spock tense at the blatant disrespect. "We do what we must. We pay them, and they tell us what the Klingons are plotting. Better than risking our own agents." This just isn't adding up, it doesn't make sense.

"How can you trust them? How do you know they're not double agents? There's got to be a better way to get information. Starfleet can't allow this."

"Still an idealist, after all you've seen?" Rankin sniffs. "You're not going to get anywhere if you limit yourself like that." The admiral sighs. "You know what… Spock, maybe you'll understand. It's logical to make use of them, surely you can appreciate that."

Spock doesn't even hesitate. "No. Whether it is logical or not is irrelevant; it is unethical. Their methods are invasive and cruel, and their motivations purely in their own self-interest. I cannot approve of your association with them."

"I'm not going to listen to this. Set your course for Dirbanu. Another word about spies and I'll court-martial you both. Am I understood?"

"Understood, sir," Jim says, biting down on the rest of his protests, and the connection ends. There's a moment when they're all still frozen in disbelief. Then, "Okay," he says, turning to Spock, "What the fuck was that?"

"A most… unexpected response," Spock says, sounding about as confused as everybody else. "How can they possibly be working with those guys?" Jim demands of the room at large. "He must be out of his mind, trusting those creeps—oh, fuck," There's a very good possibility Rankin actually is out of his mind, if he's been dealing with unscrupulous telepaths. How much damage have they done? Spock has evidently made the same connection, because he says, "Captain, we should discuss this. If Starfleet security has been compromised, immediate action must be taken."

"Agreed," Jim says, slipping back into professionalism. He orders his crew to set a course for Dirbanu and gives Sulu command. There's no use angering Rankin further by disobeying while they figure this out. Besides, Dirbanu is closer to New Vulcan than Treyessa, so that would be at least convenient if… if anything happens. Jim heads to one of the smaller briefing rooms, Spock following at his side.

~o~

"We don't know where they are or what they're up to or what information they've stolen from Starfleet already." Jim underscores this with an angry wave of his arm. "Hell, at this point Starfleet probably gave them the information. Damn Rankin, what's even going on with our admirals? Are they all going to end up being bad guys?" If Spock finds this a bit overdramatic, as Jim has to admit it probably is, he doesn't comment.

"You believe they will target my alternate self," Spock says.

"How did you-"

"I received a communication from him earlier this morning. He expressed concern regarding your mental wellbeing."

"He thinks I can't take care of myself. Great. That's just great." He's not a boy, he's a grown man and he's survived worse than this, why does everybody seem to think he can't do anything on his own?

"He said no such thing. Only that these are unusual circumstances and care must be taken. You must be prepared in case these people should again attempt to gain access to your memories."

"But what if they go after him? And we know they have at least Rankin under their control, what else would they want from me?"

"It is better to be prepared. I recommend that I teach you how to shield your thoughts from intruders."

"That's weird. I was going to suggest that. Great minds think alike, I guess." Spock blinks at him, and stares intently for a moment before saying, "…Yes. I suppose."

"We will begin with meditation," Spock says, and Jim resists rolling his eyes. They've tried this already, during his recovery, but he could never hold enough focus for long. It was just too hard to concentrate on nothing. A bit of coding or an exam or a real-life situation, sure, but just sitting there? Well, he has to try.

There's a few quiet rooms on one of the housing/recreation decks, so they head there, passing an engineer packing up xir tools after fixing something or another. Xe salutes as they pass, and Jim gives xir a friendly nod in return. That's a constant, at least, even when it feels like flying right into hell, his crew and ship still work seamlessly.

They arrive, and Spock begins explaining what Jim's heard so many times before to no effect. He sits and closes his eyes, and hopes that maybe this time will be different.

~o~

He's dying again. Feeling everything again. The pain and the fear…

Something is wrong, something is so horribly wrong, they are wearing unfamiliar uniforms and Jim knows his Enterprise does not look like this and he is unhurt but Spock is on the other side of the glass, burned and dazed and dying, reaching for a contact and comfort he cannot have, body and mind and soul trapped, and it was not supposed to be like this–-no, it was always supposed to be like this-–and there is fear, and so much more than that there is sorrow, and then he is alone, so alone, and screaming his grief and rage… and this time it's not Khan threatening him but Nero: you will watch helplessly as everything you love dies.

And then there's another voice:

Jim/Captain - forgive me the intrusion- you are dreaming/remembering?/illusion -safe- I see this - what/when/how is this? - unfamiliar but familiar - we never saw/experienced this - is this his past? - not real/not present -let me help you wake

Spock - what/how - is that you - I can hear/feel/understand you

And then he's awake, and why is he sitting on the floor—meditation, right, he must have fallen asleep—and Spock is right in front of him looking at him with obvious concern.

"What the fuck was that?" he gasps. Spock flinches back, such an unusual reaction for him that Jim's attention is, for a moment, diverted.

"I apologize," Spock says quickly, "You were- I could not wake you. I promise you I did not access any deeper thoughts-"

"No, not you, not that," Jim reassures him. You were afraid, he realizes. "Thank you for that, you understand? But what was I seeing?" He gets to his feet, and Spock stands along with him.

"I believe you were witnessing events from the Ambassador's timeline. From what he was willing to tell me, his version of the confrontation with Khan was… somewhat different from our own."

Jim grumbles something about the Spocks collaborating behind his back.

"It appears that his meld with you left behind several of his own memories and those of your counterpart. The psychic assault perpetrated by the Freedom of Thought agents must have influenced these so that they are now accessible to your subconscious." There's an undercurrent of distaste there, but whether it's aimed at the Ambassador or the spies, or both, Jim does not know.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." This is even worse than he'd imagined. He'd thought that by getting away from them he would at least be safe in his own head, but if he's dreaming about another universe… "What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe they were right, back on Earth, maybe I shouldn't have gotten command again if this shit is what's going to happen…"

"Captain, you have passed every aptitude test Starfleet assigned, and several they did not. You have been deemed physically and mentally fit. There is no reason to doubt this." Jim wants to believe him.

"Only the fact that my own head wants to kill me! And then I can't even get meditation right! I go and fall asleep while trying to do something so fucking basic. Didn't you notice?"

"I did not think it prudent to wake you. You have not slept; you require rest." And there's that warm feeling again, really, he shouldn't be having so much of a reaction to Spock's concern for him, but this isn't the time to think about that.

"I wish that was all this was, I really do," Jim sighs. "So what are we gonna do?"

"You must send the Ambassador another message, appraise him of the situation."

No, he can't do that. From even that brief glimpse of the elder Spock's mind Jim knows what the old man will think if he tells him that the meld had resulted, even indirectly, in this. He can't add to all that guilt and responsibility.

"He can't know, Spock. He'd blame himself," Jim says, then adds quietly, "He already does, for Vulcan."

"That would be irrational. There is no reason for him to think himself responsible for our circumstances."

Jim just shakes his head. "You weren't inside his head."

But Spock isn't convinced. "He insisted that he be informed if anything of this sort were to happen. Would you refuse to honor that?" And that particular look, Jim knows, means he won't settle for anything less than agreement. Yes, it's one of the First's duties to second-guess the Captain when he's doing something questionable, but why does Spock need to be so persistent about it? It's logical, it's sensible, but Jim still doesn't want to tell the old man that he's inadvertently hurt him… He turns away, presses a hand to his head. He can deal with a few visions, right?

"If I tell him… and then what? And then what do we do after that?" He looks back, just as Spock steps closer.

"I expect he will contact a healer, who will then remove the imparted memories. Until then, this will likely hinder any further attempts at meditation." There's an uncertain pause, as if Spock is deciding whether or not to go on. "As a temporary measure, I can construct a shield to protect your thoughts from outside attack, and, though I am uncertain as to the effectiveness of such an attempt, possibly restrain the foreign memories." Another pause. Spock meets Jim's eyes before continuing, "It would require a full meld. I understand you may not wish it, and if so I will not push the matter further."

A full meld… There's a growing part of Jim that's always been curious about that, about how that would feel with his Spock. But the idea that Spock's only doing this because Jim can't do it himself rankles. And the longer he waits the more small fears drift to the surface- what if Spock finds something dark and terrible in his head? What if- But they've been through this before, and he trusts Spock.

"Do you permit it?" Spock asks him. He takes a breath.

"Yes. Go ahead."

~o~

It's strange, having Spock in his head, but it's not at all bad, and this time he's not dreaming or frantic with fear, so he can actually pay attention to the sensation.

Your thoughts/mindscape/you are unusually/extremely appealing/fascinating/beautiful, he hears, and is that emotion woven into the words wonder? Affection?

You sound different from last time, Jim questions.

Communication through a partial meld is more fragmented, is Spock's answer.

I like this way of talking.

It can be more than simply words, Spock says, and demonstrates, explaining in a rush of images and sensations the process of forming a shield, before beginning to form it. His presence brushes against something, and Jim is suddenly aware of a something he can feel in his head that he's sure wasn't there before. But then everything's been different since he died and maybe it had been hiding… oh, god, is it a part of Khan? But a wash of calm and reassurance from Spock gives him the courage to look closer. He toys with it in his mind as Spock observes. And then he feels Spock's surprise, and a rush of warmth and joy and… love?

A bond, Spock supplies, and that's… a hint of possessiveness? Jim questions, barely paying attention for all the wonder of this bright thing. Spock explains the connection with a burst of knowledge, teaching him in an instant about this aspect of Vulcan culture and what it means. That the bond had formed between them, at first too faint to notice, and then grown until the meld allowed it to complete the link.

This certainly explains a lot, Jim thinks, remembering how oddly aware of each other they've been.

Indeed it does.

If you liked me so much, you could have just asked. Jim infuses this with humor, and Spock responds with warmth and amusement. I believe I will.

After what feels like an ageless time, Spock finishes the shield and breaks the meld. But the bond remains, warm and bright, radiating feelings of we are together and I will keep you safe.

"This is… this is incredible," Jim says, and experimentally pushes his own thoughts of love across the bond. He wonders how long it's been since he felt this good, and realizes that he probably never has. If this lasts…

I will not leave you, he feels, and he smiles towards Spock.

He's brought sharply back to anxious reality by the sound of his communicator. It's Uhura. Fuck, fuck, this can only be something bad…

"Captain, I just received a message from the Vulcan colony." Alarm spikes in him, and more faintly from the other side of the bond. "It's the Ambassador's office- they're saying he's missing."

~o~

And that was Chapter Hella Plot Twist. We're not nearly done yet. Good job if you got the three references! Admiral Rankin is a reference to Captain Rankin from the Temeraire series, who is just as much of a jerkass as you'd expect (also prissy, rude, abusive, and racist, but that's another story). Dirbanu is a reference to the planet in Theodore Sturgeon's (aka the writer of Shore Leave and Amok Time) short story The World Well Lost, which is known for being the first science fiction story with positive gay characters. And "Do you permit it?" is a reference to Grantaire and Enjolras's deaths in Les Miserables.