Day 6 (Friday)
"Listen, sir, this is my fault. The others had nothing to do with it," Spencer said as they were marching across the open lawn.
"No, it was me, sir," Schmidt said.
"It's a little late for confessions now," Morrison said icily. "And you guys should really work on getting your stories straight."
"Honestly, sir, if you just listen-" Spencer pleaded.
"No talking!" Morrison snapped.
Spock analyzed the faces of his squad mates. Saxena's face was pallid and bore a dazed expression. Schmidt seemed angry. Spencer had begun crying. He could not logically deduce what Spencer and Schmidt had been doing in the cadre office. It was inappropriate to involve himself in their private matter and illogical to speculate, but he could not deny his curiosity.
The reached the headquarters building and Morrison jerkily rung the buzzer and the door clicked. He grabbed the handle and ripped it open forcefully, and stormed down the long hallway ahead of them.
Spencer and Schmidt appeared to be silently arguing through increasingly erratic facial expressions, which were quickly neutralized once they reached Pike's office. Morrison drummed his knuckles on the closed door, and Pike surprisingly answered it himself rather than summon Morrison inside.
"Is Susan Spencer with you?" Pike asked.
"Yeah, but it's more than that. I have three others," he said, glancing at them over his shoulder.
Pike peeked around the door to look at them and his eyes narrowed.
"Well, bring them in," Pike replied, opening the door more widely to allow them all passage into his large office.
The four of them plus Morrison stood on the light blue carpet facing Pike's desk. The commandant slid gracefully into his chair and drummed his fingers on the hard surface.
"So Lieutenant Morrison, would you care to tell me why a third of your squad is standing in my office at-" he glanced at his computer terminal, "0017 hours?"
"They broke into the cadre office on the third floor, sir," Morrison replied.
"All of you?" Pike said, scanning each of their faces.
Spock heard Saxena squeak next to him but she didn't reply.
"I think I know what this might be about," Pike said quickly before anyone could speak. "Can you take Spock, Saxena, and Schmidt into the hall while I speak with Trainee Spencer?"
Morrison's face contorted in mild confusion, but he quickly agreed and Spock returned with the others into the hallway. Moments after the door was closed, they heard Spencer utter a slight scream. Saxena looked inquiringly at Schmidt and then to Morrison.
"Is she ok?" she asked aloud, seemingly to anyone who might answer.
"Mind your own business right now, ok?" Morrison replied.
Spock could detect the sounds of muffled crying through the door of Pike's office. Morrison's communicator chirped and he scowled. He flipped the device open and walked down the hall several meters to speak with less risk over being overheard, but continued to glare at the three trainees.
"What is going on?" Saxena muttered in a barely audible tone without moving her lips.
"Spencer's kid ran away. They've been looking for her all day," Schdmit explained.
"How does that justify breaking into the cadre office?" Spock whispered, turning his back so Morrison wouldn't observe him talking.
"She talked to the police this morning and Pike told her he'd let her know if there were any updates. She thought of a place they should look and wanted to call, but they told her to let the police handle it. She has her PADD in her personal bag, but the instructors locked all of our bags in their office until graduation. She just wanted to call her mom and ask her to check this one place."
"So you stole Morrison's access card?" Saxena mumbled.
"You catch on fast," Schmidt sneered. "Look, I'm already on thin ice here. I think it's over for me no matter but, but Spencer really wants to be here. If Pike asks you, say I'm the one. Leave her out of it."
"That is illogical. He is speaking with her right now and it is reasonable to conclude based on her previous remarks that she will confess," Spock argued.
"Don't you dare," Schmidt growled in a low register. "Don't you dare. Her kid is missing. She just wanted to call and help find her."
"I understand she was driven by emotional motivations," Spock whispered, trying to comprehend what Schmidt's interest in defending a woman who had viciously rejected him could be. "But that does not excuse-"
"Then don't say anything," he insisted.
"You would ask me to lie?" Spock rebutted.
"Yes!" Schmidt hissed. "Until your pants are on fire."
"A curious expression," Spock said.
Schmidt was about to reply when Pike called Schmidt into the office. Schmidt pursed his lips and shook his head at him slowly. Spencer emerged with her arms crossed and tears freely flowing down her face. Spencer and Schmidt exchanged stern looks as they passed.
"Dammit!" Morrison yelled, slamming his communicator shut. "Listen you miscreants, I have to go back to the barracks. I don't know what Pike's going to do with you, but maybe after today you won't be my problem anymore."
As he stormed away, Saxena hugged Spencer and asked, "Is everything ok?"
"Yes, well, I don't know, but my daughter is home now. She's safe," Spencer sobbed.
"Then why do you cry?" Spock asked.
She let go of Saxena and grabbed Spock in a deep embrace. Her emotional effusions startled him and though he knew she didn't intend to commit such a serious breach of conduct, he felt compelled to tell her she was causing him significant discomfort. She seemed to sense this on her own and let him go, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Then she started crying again; he was unable to explain her irrational behavior.
"What happened?" Saxena pressed.
"My daughter ran away sometime last night. My mom realized she was gone this morning and called the police and managed to get hold of Starfleet. Commander Pike told me what happened this morning and offered to let me go home, but explained that missing this training would mean I'd have to wait until the next course started in January. So he promised he'd keep me informed and sent me to do the navigation stuff with everyone else."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Saxena said, starting to tear up as well.
"Everyone thinks I cry too much. They're probably right. Schmidt and I ended up being partners during the land navigation course and he started making fun of me because I was crying. I started yelling at him and it all came out. It was weird; it was like he was human or something. Anyway, he said he ran away from home as a kid all the time. He always went to his tree house. And then I remembered we used to have a tree house in our old backyard across town. I wanted to call my mom and ask her to look there, but Morrison said I needed to focus on the training and let the police do their jobs."
"What an ass," Saxena hissed.
"I know, right? Morrison wouldn't listen, so while he was sleeping at the rally point, Schmidt took his access card and said he could get me into the office to use my PADD and call. That's what we were doing in the office. I am so sorry you both got dragged into this. I told Pike everything that happened and took full responsibility for it."
"Schmidt has asked us not to implicate you," Spock said.
"That's crazy," she moaned. "This was my idea. Pike already gave him a second chance once. I doubt he'll get another one. Starfleet is all Schmidt has."
"What do you mean?" Saxena asked.
Spencer was about to reply but then shook her head, saying, "I already said too much. It's really his business. And I realize he's an annoying, impossible jerk, but he really can be a decent person."
"Were you right about the tree house?" asked Saxena.
"Yeah, actually," Spencer smiled. "Well, Schmidt was. Thing is, Sarah wanted to come home this afternoon but the ladder broke and she couldn't get down. It's summer, but it still gets cold at night in Wyoming. When they found her, she was in the early stages of hypothermia. Schmidt saved my daughter's life."
Spock considered Spencer's story and wondered at the motives her child had for fleeing home. When he was younger, he often escaped into Vulcan's Forge after being tormented by the other children. It had disappointed his father, but he had always taken the punishment in stride.
The one occasion he avoided punishment for running away was when a Shatarr, a poisonous fire lizard indigenous to the Forge, had bitten him on the ankle. Spock had spent the evening slowly trying to crawl home and had been close to death when his father had found him.
He'd spent two days in the hospital and recalled his mother and father fighting over his bed when they'd presumed he was unconscious. It was the first time he remembered hearing them argue and he disliked being the catalyst for their harsh words toward one another.
Still, they'd stayed together by his bedside through the night and when the healers pronounced him well enough to go home, he followed his father to his study to accept punishment. His father had only said, "It upsets your mother when you run away. She is human. She worries for you."
She is human.
His mother. Spencer. Spencer's daughter. Schmidt. All human. He was half human.
Listening to Spencer explain that her daughter ran away because she had moved to a new home, was being teased at school, and missed her mother made him consider something he'd never previously given thought to. She had also said that Schmidt confessed to running away in his youth as well. Was this common among humans? Were his childhood departures some human trait he'd never accounted for?
Perhaps he had more in common with Schmidt than he realized. He'd spent most of his life trying to emulate his father and suppress the human side his mother had bestowed upon him. He'd always presumed he'd been successful, but perhaps it was illogical to believe he could be objective in making a self-assessment of his humanity.
"Please don't tell Pike about Schmidt," Spencer begged, interrupting his reflection.
"He has already asked me to lie for you. I cannot honor both of your requests, and the truth is I prefer the truth," Spock stated.
Spencer looked at Saxena expectantly, and the younger girl looked away in shame.
"Look, I don't really want to lie to the commandant either," Saxena admitted.
"Please? I would do it for you," she said, looking at them both.
"I would not ask you to lie on my behalf," Spock explained.
"You also didn't ask for dry clothes and sheets, but we did that because we're your friends. Some things go without saying, Spock. Or are Vulcans too honorable-"
She was interrupted when the door opened. Schmidt emerged wearing an expression Spock could not identify.
"Um, Commander Pike wants to talk to you," he said, looking at Spock. "I already gave him the access card. He knows it was me. Leave Spencer out of it."
"You jackass," Spencer snarled, crossing her arms. "I already told him I did it."
"Yeah, which is why he probably wants to talk to him," Schmidt sighed, looking sternly at Spock.
Spock nodded and moved toward the door while they continued to bicker. Their desire to accept blame on behalf of the other person was puzzling, especially considering they still seemed to dislike one another. Seconds later, he stood in front of Commander Pike's desk, knowing he was innocent of any wrongdoing but contemplating the logic of telling a lie.
"How are you doing, Trainee Spock?" Pike said, drumming his fingers on the desk and then leaning back in his chair.
"My basic needs are met and I am in satisfactory health, sir," he said.
"Care to tell me what happened tonight?"
"Please specify, sir."
"With you, Schmidt, Spencer, Saxena, and the access card," Pike sighed.
"Trainee Saxena and myself were cleaning the windows," Spock replied, looking at the blue access card at the end of Pike's desk. "We were not involved in any way, sir."
"But Spencer and Schmidt were?"
"That seems a possible conclusion you could draw, sir," Spock said.
"I want the truth," Pike said, sitting up in his chair in clear irritation.
"The truth is that I cannot be certain, sir," he explained.
And technically, it was true. He saw them both emerge from the office, but both had claimed to be the culprit of breaking into it in the first place. There were numerous logical deductions he could make, but he couldn't be certain.
Of course, Spencer had implicated Schmidt in stealing the access card, but that wasn't what Pike had asked. He hadn't asked for Spock's logical opinion, he had asked for Spock to explain exactly "what happened," which he could not do with the available information. Humans might call it a technicality, but he was Vulcan after all, and Vulcans embraced technicality.
"Look, Trainee Spock, it's late and I'm not really in the mood for Vulcan mind games," Pike said, looking him directly in the eye. "Who broke into the office?"
"That is a question with several reasonable answers, depending on context, sir," Spock replied.
"What's your answer?"
"I did not witness the unauthorized entry, therefore I cannot be certain, sir," he said.
"That's your story?" Pike sighed.
"Yes," Spock answered.
"That's all you really know and you'd swear by it?" Pike insisted.
"I know many things, sir," Spock answered, sensing Pike's growing irritation. "And I do not generally engage in telling untruths."
Technically a half-truth was not an untruth.
"You know, my father used to say that a man was only as good as his word," Pike mused.
"Trustworthiness is an admirable quality, sir," Spock agreed. "Though it is curious the adage does not apply to females."
Pike sighed, smiled, and said, "But along the way, I also learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the caliber of their friends."
"Yours is a statement with several logical inferences, sir," Spock replied.
"I'm saying that it's important to have friends worth protecting, and it's also important to tell the truth."
"It is indeed a paradox, sir," Spock replied.
Pike sighed and grabbed the access card. "Get out of my office, Trainee Spock. You're dismissed. You and Trainee Saxena go back to the barracks. Send Spencer and Schmidt back in."
"Aye, sir," Spock replied, turning to leave.
"And Spock?"
"Sir?" he responded, turning crisply to face Commander Pike.
Pike scowled, but allowed his face to fall into a smile. He shook his head and motioned for him to leave and said, "Never mind, Trainee Spock."
Spock nodded subtly and departed the office. Spencer and Schmidt were whispering furiously between themselves and Saxena was sitting on the floor with her knees curled up to her chest.
"What did you say?" Spencer murmured.
"I presume Commander Pike intended our conversation to be private in nature, given he chose to speak to me alone. He wishes to speak to you both together," Spock replied.
Spencer and Schmidt looked at each other nervously, and then returned to Pike's office.
"We were instructed to return to the barracks," Spock said quietly to Saxena.
"He doesn't want to talk to me?" Saxena asked in disbelief.
"It would not appear so."
"Are we in trouble?" she asked, the pitch of her voice growing shrill.
"No, Trainee Saxena, you're not in trouble," Pike called from his office, his voice muted through the door. "You're dismissed."
Her eyes grew wide but she closed her mouth. She scrambled to her feet and they walked down the darkened hallway in silence, excepting the sounds of their footfall echoing on the hard walls.
"What do you think will happen to them?" she whispered.
"I cannot say. They are both guilty of a serious offense," he replied.
"Yeah, but obviously there were extenuating circumstances," Saxena said.
"It is illogical to argue the merits of the case to me, as neither of us will ultimately decide their punishment," Spock explained.
He held the door for her to exit the building and she crossed her arms across her chest and grimaced. They walked quietly down the sidewalk, until Saxena stopped.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Schassler told me that your mother is human," she said.
"That is correct," he replied. "Why is that of interest to you?"
"Well, so then, Vulcans and humans? Oh, never mind. It's not important," she answered, walking around him quickly.
He watched her walk several meters ahead and he lengthened his stride to catch her.
"Are you certain I have not offended you in some way?" he asked, moving slightly ahead of her.
"Yes," she said, stopping again in her tracks. "I mean, yes, I'm sure you haven't offended me."
"Then what is the source of your emotional distress?"
"I look emotionally distressed?" she said with stiff alarm, crossing her arms over her chest again.
"I admit I am not the most proficient judge, but it does appear so."
"The truth is, Spooner wasn't wrong. I do- I like- Oh, I don't know," she said, uncrossing her arms and storming past him once again.
"It seems you are attempting to avoid engaging me in conversation. I do not-"
"I like you, ok?" she snapped, turning back on her heel to face him.
"You also have many likeable qualities," he replied, uncertain why she seemed so angry in expressing her regard for him.
"I like you… a lot," she mumbled.
Spock could see her complexion reddening again even in the dim light of the lampposts. He sensed she was attempting to imply some deeper connection than friendship.
"Say something," she hissed, tears welling in her eyes.
"Are you implying that you have developed romantic affection for me?"
She gawked at him and the first tears rolled down her cheeks. "I thought it was obvious."
"I have great respect for you," he began.
"Great respect?" she stammered.
"But I do not return your affections," he explained.
"Ugh, this is so embarrassing," she wailed, wheeling back around and swiftly marching back toward the barracks.
He was uncertain how to proceed. The logic in him wished to seek her out and resolve their misunderstanding, but what had just transpired was not logical. Rather than simply speak her mind, she ran away in tears. He felt ill equipped to comfort her and sensed that comforting her would give her the incorrect impression that he shared her romantic sentiments.
He strode slowly back to the barracks and contemplated the fickle and unpredictable nature of humans. He often wondered how his father and mother came to be bonded, given that Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan held even more conservative beliefs than his half-Vulcan son did. As he turned the corner, he encountered Scrivner and Spooner on roving guard.
"Did something happen to Saxena?" Spooner asked. "She's bawling her eyes out. What did you do to her? And where did you guys come from?"
"I have done nothing to her," Spock replied. "We are returning from Commander Pike's office."
"What happened?" Scrivner asked.
"That is a private matter," Spock answered, walking past them both to avoid discussing it any further.
When he arrived in the room, he could faintly detect the sounds of Saxena sobbing into her pillow. He sat down on his bunk and removed his shoes and uniform, and nestled between the stiff white sheets.
He hadn't slept properly for any length of time since his arrival, and though his body was physically exhausted, his mind was too active to sleep now.
Humans were a most complex and perplexing species. One moment, they were sworn enemies, and the next, they were fiercely defending one another. The ease with which they forged and broke friendships and attachments was disconcerting. He resumed his earlier reflections about his own inherent humanity and did his best to reconcile the two halves of himself with what he knew of both humans and Vulcans.
He began to drift into the space between wakefulness and sleep when Schmidt crawled into the upper bunk startled him awake. He spent the next several hours reminding himself that it was illogical to speculate about what might have transpired in Commander Pike's office until he was surprised by the morning's alarm.
The routine had already become so familiar he was only dimly aware of the next few hours of standing in formation, running, pushups, yelling, eating too quickly for comfort, and more standing around waiting. Despite his exhaustion, he noted Spencer had returned from Pike's office as well and suspected Saxena was making every conceivable effort to avoid being in close proximity to him.
They spent the morning on the lawn behind the barracks, receiving hours of instruction on routine landing party procedures. He struggled to stay awake, but he was one of many in Sigma squad with the same issue.
"Are you sleepy, Sigma Squad?" Quinones roared, snapping his focus back to reality.
"No sir," they answered quickly.
"Then why is Rusza asleep?" he shrieked.
The Hungarian man was sitting upright, but his chin was against his chest. Spooner vigorously shook his shoulder and he moaned.
"On your feet," Quinones said plainly. "Right. Now."
They began jumping jacks while Quinones continued to lecture.
"Tonight you will embark on your first field training exercise. You will need the stuff I am teaching you. If you are asleep, you cannot hear what I am teaching you. Do you see the fundamental problem, Sigma Squad?"
"Aye, sir," they yelled.
Spock observed a number of his squad mates appeared to be rapidly descending into disorientation. Saxena had stopped and had her hands on her knees, squatting slightly and staring off into space. Rutherford had taken a seat and was shaking. Quinones marched through the formation, stopping in front of Spooner. She had tears running down her cheeks but continued to perform the exercise.
"Do you want to quit, Trainee Spooner?" Quinones asked.
"I'm not a quitter!" she yelled, just centimeters from his face.
He lurched back slightly and smiled.
"What about you, Trainee Scrivner? Do you want to quit?"
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Nothing wrong with honesty, I suppose," Quinones drawled, moving along the line of his rapidly deteriorating squad mates.
"And you, Trainee Spock?"
He remembered Quinones' earlier lesson about knowing when to seek help and sensed this was simply an extension of the same logic. He was feeling dizzy and would soon be on the verge of needing to quit. Most of the other members of his squad had already reached their respective limits.
"It would seem logical to abandon this exercise before sustaining an injury," he said. "Therefore, quitting is advisable."
Spencer had fallen on all fours next to him and was retching. Quinones grimaced at the sight and called the group to a halt. Only seven of the twelve members of Sigma Squad were still on their feet and those who were seemed to be struggling to remain that way. Spock found it difficult to stop the trembling of his muscles and maintain his equilibrium.
"Back to the barracks," Quinones announced. "Except for Spencer, Saxena, Rutherford, Rusza, and Scrivner."
Climbing the stairs to the third floor was slow going and when they arrived in the communal barracks room, they discovered Morrison leaning against the room divider with his arms crossed. They filed into the room and looked at him anxiously.
"Go to bed," he said, waving his hand around the room casually.
No one moved.
"Are you deaf or what?" he asked, pushing off from the wall in a skipping motion.
"What's the catch?" Spooner asked.
"The 'catch' is we don't want you losing your minds on tonight's training mission, or just keeling over dead," he said, uncrossing his arms in a grand gesture. "Makes for a lot of messy paperwork."
Spock glanced around the room and made eye contact with Schassler, Rylax, and Spooner.
"What do you want? You want me to tuck you in like I'm your mommy? Kiss you on the forehead and sing you a lullaby?" Morrison snarled. "I have hours worth of nursery rhymes, in case you don't remember."
The remainder of the squad quickly scattered to their bunks. Spock didn't speak to Schmidt and Schmidt seemed content to ignore him. He didn't allow his mind time to begin analysis of Quinones' decision, but quickly fell into a deep sleep.
It was 2130 hours when they were roused from their bunks. He was still tired, but his mind felt far more alert and focused than it had in days. Morrison was dancing and banging a wooden stick on the metal bunks in a rhythmic fashion.
"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" he yelled gleefully. "Get into duty uniforms and get ready to pack."
Spock stood and stretched himself slightly. He saw Saxena sitting on the floor and putting her boots on and when she saw him looking at her, she scooted further toward her bunk and out of view behind the dividing wall. He sensed there would be no immediate way of repairing their acquaintanceship and wondered if it would ever be possible.
"Alright, shut up, Sigma Squad," Quinones bellowed. "We depart in an hour, and there's a lot to do and still a lot to cover."
They spent twenty minutes filling their rucksacks with canteens of water, portable bedding, and other survival items. Quinones continued his lecture of landing party procedures while they worked and an hour later, they were escorted out of the barracks and marched three kilometers to the shuttle pad.
The other squads were already there and waiting patiently to depart. Morrison appeared with a large black box of supplies and began sorting through them.
"In fourteen minutes, we will depart for the Adirondack Training Area. You will be working in teams of six for this mission. Let's see… Rusza, Rutherford, Scrivner, Sagawa, Spencer, and Ryskamp: you will be Alpha team. Rusza will be your team leader. That means Schmidt, Spooner, Saxena, Spock, Rylax, and Schassler: you will be Beta Team. Your team leader will be Schmidt."
Spock pondered whether or not Quinones' team selection had been entirely random or carefully chosen for some unknown purpose.
"Let me speak to the team leaders. The rest of you sit tight with your thumbs up your butts until we get ready to bounce," Morrison said.
Spock sat quietly next to his gear, easily ignoring Morrison's euphemistic language. Saxena picked up her rucksack and moved far away from Spock, sitting conspicuously with her back toward him.
"What'd you do to her?" Schassler asked, sitting next to him.
"I have done nothing to her," he replied, not wishing to discuss what had occurred between them in the early hours of the morning.
"Don't want to talk about it? That's fine," Schassler mused.
"I'm guessing she told you she likes you?" Spooner asked, sitting down on his other side.
"It would be indelicate to speak of it," Spock said with a measure of finality.
"Yeah, that's probably true. None of our business," Spooner said. "It was none of my business telling you in the first place, but what's done is done. Can't unring a bell."
"An adequate metaphor," Spock agreed.
"Can you believe they put Schmidt in charge?" Schassler asked, looking over his shoulder to see him deep in discussion with Morrison.
"It would be illogical to speculate about the cadre's motivations."
"Illogical, sure. But it's a way to pass the time," Schassler smiled.
"Time will pass regardless of how one chooses to occupy-"
"Do you ever stop being such a- I don't know- a Vulcan?" Spooner chuckled.
"Are you implying I should abandon my-"
"On your feet," Quinones yelled. Schmidt was returning to the group, and the shuttle's boarding ramp had been lowered. "When we get on site, your team leader will brief you on your mission. You are to follow their instructions just as if it came from one of us. Understood?"
"Aye, sir," he replied, glancing at Schmidt.
Schmidt's eyes were fixed ahead and he heard Spooner sigh behind him and mutter, "Yeah, this is going to be great."