Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters are not mine.

Warning: Torture is a subject that will be addressed in future chapters. You are warned.

Hierarchy on Deneva:

1. Regional Administrator (Local representative of the Vulcan High Command) – Oversee all administrative matters and makes military decisions with the consult of the local fleet commander.

2. Mentara's Fleet Commander – Manages the day-to-day operation of troops and ships. Any major decision by this person needs the approval of the administrator. The fleet commander can remove a regional administrator, if he/she believes the individual to be compromised.

3. An assortment of other Vulcans and Humans who run Deneva's various offices.

Chapter 2

Kirk never liked surprises. Not even as a child. His one and only surprise party ended in disaster for him, his brother and parents. Uhura had requested that he be here tonight for a meeting with a visitor. He wondered what was so important that Starfleet was willing to send someone to Deneva. The planet was like the infamous Hotel California in the twentieth-century song. Once you checked in, there was no checking out. He rubbed his eyes and wondered why the universe had blessed him with overly assertive women like Uhura his whole life.

The beep alerted him to Mayweather's arrival. He noticed the look that stole over Uhura's face. Part anticipation, part worry, it sent a sick feeling to his stomach. That look meant his night was bound to become unpleasant.

A side door across from the elevator opened and Mayweather stepped into the room with someone covered in a heavy hooded coat. The partially hidden face and the shape under the coat told him their guest was female. He saw a look pass between Mayweather and Uhura and the sinking feeling returned. The stranger suddenly seemed shockingly familiar. His eyes narrowed as she dropped her bag against the wall in a careless manner he knew too well. Then as if to drive home the answer, she pushed back the hood of her coat and Kirk was face to face with his wife for the first time in a year and a half.

"What is she doing here, Uhura?" he demanded, rising to his feet. All the emotions toward Mara he had tried to bury rushed to the surface, threatening his self-control. He could not stay in this room with her. He might fall apart. He was a man and damn it, men did not fucking break down with hysterics.

"You know she was sent to us."

"That's well and good," he said, grabbing his jacket. "I don't have to be here."

Mayweather cautiously stepped closer to him. "Jim, Captain, be reasonable. Would she be here if there was another choice?"

"He's right, James," Uhura added, her voice carefully neutral.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He was a trained Starfleet officer. He would act like one. He turned back to face her, his wife, his heart, his betrayer. Mara looked no different from the last time he saw her in person, naked and panting under another man. She was not a stunning woman like Uhura. Nevertheless, fierce amber eyes and full lips made a face that might have been ordinary truly arresting. The flawless light brown skin now visible still had the effect of making him want to touch her. "Why are you here, Mara?"

Mara looked at her husband and felt an acute sense of despair. She knew what he had become before that fateful day when he caught her with José Dominguez, had seen reports as to his current state. Until this moment, she had failed to realise that her actions, combined with the war, had warped him into the person standing before her. The fighting, the deaths, the hopelessness, all started the process. She just happened to finish it.

Was there another option? She was hurting from her own experiences and could not count on him. At the time, he had been too wrapped up in the personal hell he'd suffered while a prisoner of the Vulcans. She tried opening up to him, but he shut her out, choosing to immerse himself in the bloodshed. The first real reaction she received from him was the day he saw her seeking solace with another man. That was when he truly disappeared from her. For over a year, she watched as he participated in multiple suicide missions. Then nine months ago, he disappeared, showing up on Deneva after three months.

She decided to get right to the point. "I must get to the Wai-Shali."

Surprised coloured his features; he had not expected this of her. "You wasted time and energy coming here because you want to find them? I thought the Federation was brighter than that, Mara."

"Jim, please, you know you are the only one who can get me an audience with Kali."

He looked away from her, gazing at the two other people in the room. "We need a moment of privacy."

Crossing her arms, Uhura frowned. "This concerns all of us."

"Why she's here concerns all of us, not my marriage."

Mara watched as Uhura's eyes hardened before Mayweather touched her arm. This Uhura was most definitely not the Lieutenant who'd once served in space with Jim.

"Come on Uhura; let's give them some time alone."

The woman looked up at Mayweather, and then nodded. As they walked through the door, Mara could not help thinking that Uhura most definitely was not happy.

Alone, they warily regarded each other. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the thinness of his body and the almost dead expression in his bloodshot gaze. "If I said you look well, I'd be lying."

As her unexpected words reached him, a ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. "Unlike you, Mara."

"Can I count on your assistance?"

"That would be a big assumption."

"This has nothing to do with our personal problems. Starfleet expects me to get an audience with the Wai-Shali, whichever way."

She watched him anxiously when he did not answer. He just stood there scrutinizing her with an unnerving gaze. Eventually, she looked away.

"What would you do if I said no?" he asked.

"I would make the attempt without you." She ventured a few steps closer to him and he stiffened. Neither noticed when he had relaxed.

"They might hear you out or hurt you, depending on their mood." He folded his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Or they might kill you on sight. Kali can be unforgiving under the best of circumstances."

Mara sighed and opened the buttons of her coat. Kali was the real reason she had journeyed here. Jim was the only person who could get the leader of the Wai-Shali Circle to hear her proposal. "Remember, I have faced Kali before. I'll just have to deal with her."

"You always were determined to have your way in all things, weren't you?"

His words carried a nasty bite that grated across her frazzled nerves. This whole situation bordered on ridiculous. "What do you want from me, Jim? I've apologised a number of times. What else do you want?"

He stared at her with angry eyes, and then stepped forward. It was the first time since Mara's arrival that he made any effort to shorten the distance between them. "What do I want?" he whispered softly, almost to himself. His hands reached out and rested at the sides of her face.

Whether she was trying to push him away or pull him closer, she was not sure. All she knew was that her hands came to rest on his chest and her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater. She became hyper-aware of him, her breathing erratic as she realised what he meant to do. His mouth descended on hers and she ceased to think.

This was wrong. Kirk knew it, and yet he could not stop himself from touching Mara. Besides, he was still her husband. Was it not his right to touch and kiss his wife? This felt better than running or falling apart like some weakling. As a bit of his anger towards her dissipated, he realised he should not have left the way he did. He wondered if she was still with Dominguez, the weasel who had no qualms about sleeping with his friend's wife.

Mara's lips parted beneath his and he forged ahead. Lost in the heady rush of tasting her, Kirk failed to register that they now clung to each other. All that mattered was the bruising intensity with which they now kissed each other. She let out a small moan that did things to his already shaky state of mind. One unsteady hand travelled to her neck and dipped inside her collar. She immediately stilled then jerked away.

Shit. He might have just made the situation worse. With amazing speed, she was standing across from him at the weapons-decorated poker table. He watched the table and then Mara. Her breath was ragged and there was a look of sheer disbelief on her face.

"You had no right."

He smirked inwardly, but tried to keep his features bland. "Last time I checked, you were still my wife."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't mean anything, I can still file for a divorce."

"Until you do, we're still married." He let his eyes follow the lines of her covered body then settle once more on her face. He wanted to see her every response to what he was about to propose. It was risky and reeked of blackmail. If it worked, he would repay every known deity by never touching another drop of alcohol. "I'll help you Mara, but we'll do it on my terms."

Mara glared at Jim. His hooded blue eyes still bore pain, yet she could see a spark of defiant fire building within their depths. Even the way he stood had changed. Nothing blatant, she doubted others would notice it. He looked more confident. Pieces of the old cocky Jim were emerging in a remarkably short time. "What are your terms?"

Without hesitation, he replied evenly, "We give this marriage another shot."

On her way to the Mentara System, she had meditated on the many possible scenarios she might encounter with Jim. None of them involved his wanting her back. She expected anger, hostility and the possibility that she might have to go it alone on this mission. It seemed her husband could still be unpredictable. "There isn't anything left to resurrect."

"Keep telling yourself that little lie, if it brings you comfort." He took a seat in the chair he had vacated earlier. He looked relaxed.

He knew she was uncomfortable and Mara had an uneasy thought that at some point she had lost control of the meeting. "It is the truth."

"Come on, Mara," he chided her. "You and I both know there's still something. Otherwise you would not have responded to my kiss the way you just did."

Exasperated, she felt frustration rising right behind the anger bubbling under her skin. "That was a reflex reaction."

Mara's words, delivered with her trademark icy tone, sounded absurd even to her own ears. Her cheeks heated in mortification, just as Jim burst into peals of laughter. At least, it was good to see him in such merriment, even at her expense. The loud sound brought Uhura and Mayweather back into the room. They looked at her and then at Jim with shocked puzzlement.

Uhura left Mayweather's side and went to stand beside him. "Your spirits have improved, James."

"My wife has the ability to improve my mood when she chooses."

"I can also do the opposite."

Jim's smile folded away and he was serious once more. "I don't think you'll chance it, Mara."

"So, have you two reached an agreement?" Uhura questioned, still glancing between Mara and Jim.

"No."

"Yes, all she has to do is agree to my terms."

Mara felt three pairs of eyes swing to her. It was Mayweather, however who asked, "Are you going to agree to them?"

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Did they know what was being asked of her? Mara was not sure she could survive another bad experience at marriage. She could always tell him no at the end of the mission. She opened her eyes. She had studied diplomacy and one of the earliest lessons she learnt was compromise. "I agree to your terms."

"Wonderful." Uhura sounded pleased. She turned to Mayweather. "Is her ship secured enough that we can delay departure until tomorrow night?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, the area is normally ignored by foot patrol and residents alike."

"Delilas's cloak will remain engaged until I return to her." Mara added, "I would prefer to leave right away."

"We can't leave now. Sohlan was removed as fleet commander for this system. His replacement is arriving right about now. There's going to be heavy ground and air traffic well into daylight."

"Do we know who's replacing him?" Mara was not sure if Sohlan's departure was a good or bad thing for Deneva. They knew his quirks and were used to his predictable nature.

"I found out yesterday that he's related to Administrator Spock," Uhura replied.

Mayweather stifled a yawn and looked pensive. "I think we should all be worried."

Curiosity piqued, Mara had to know. "Why do you think he'd be worse, Terrence?"

"Rumour has it, Sub-Commander T'Pring is also related to Spock and you know how cruel she can be."

Put that way, Mara hoped Mayweather was wrong.

xxxxxxxxx

Huddled within his coat, he walked the nearly deserted streets, skirting curfew laws. Guilt should have been foremost on his mind, as he headed to their meeting place. However, his need was too great to ignore. It gnawed at his body like a ghastly beast and jumbled his mind to the point near insanity.

He remembered a time when he was not this pathetic. Once, he had been a famous athlete. At the end of high school, he was given the choice of either joining Starfleet or going to college on a professional athlete track. He chose athletics and became famous. He endorsed products, appeared on magazine covers, and married the woman of his dreams. They had a daughter and lived a charmed life for exactly four years, ten months and twelve days before the attack on Mars. He knew Earth would be next. He sensed it in his blood. Cheryl, his wife had wanted to stay planet-side. Earth was her home and she had faith in Starfleet and the safety grid around the planet. A direct hit killed her and his baby girl as he arranged for them to leave on one of the last emergency transports heading off world.

Shell-shocked and alone among a sea of strangers aboard a cramped freighter ship, he journeyed to Deneva; his sleep plagued with images of his daughter's broken corpse. He tried to forget and when the Vulcans showed up at Deneva, he chose to stay behind. He was one of the first to join the resistance as part of the Federation's final act before fleeing the system.

For a time his new activities helped ease the heartache. Inevitably, his colleagues started dying, and he lost it again. His only solace was corillan acid, a rare Cardassian narcotic. When diluted, the harshly addictive drug acted as a mood stabiliser and took away the nightmares. It gave him peace, albeit only temporarily. Continued occupation dried up local sources, and one night he found himself in an alley behind a bombed-out building, going through the early throes of withdrawal. That was when she found him and made an offer. He would swap information for peace.

He reached his destination, knocked twice on the door and entered the building. In the shrouded room, his dealer came forward, her dazzling face the epitome of calm. If he cared enough or had the courage, he would bash it in. "Do you have it?"

"Your information first," she demanded, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Let me see it." He watched as she went into the pocket of her uniform coat, pulling out a clear pouch with two vials. She held it up in the shaft of light that slashed across the room.

"You have seen the acid, now proceed."

"There's a woman here on Deneva who should not be. She arrived tonight and may leave before daylight today or tomorrow night. Her beam down location is north of the city at the edge of the woods."

"Excellent, Human," she said, throwing the pouch at him. "Is there anything else you would like to tell me?"

He examined the brown liquid in the vials with a sense of disgust. "I know nothing more."

"We meet next time as per our arrangement."

With one last look at her pale features, he backed out of the room. He did not trust his back to her. As he stepped out into the dark early morning, he wondered once more at the depths he had sunk.

A/N: Spock will make his appearance in the next chapter.

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