10.

'This won't be easy, Commander,' the red-clad lieutenant said honestly as she sat down in the briefing room.

Apparently Lieutenant Anderson was one of the best attorneys that Starfleet had to offer. Her lack of confidence did nothing for Spock's own confidence. The lieutenant had specifically requested to see Spock alone, in order to hold a conversation unbiased by any other opinions. There was no logical reason for anyone else to be in the room with him – but he would have very much liked Kirk to be sitting alongside him…

'We have no identification on the traders who abducted you, so no one to prosecute in that area,' she continued. 'They, at least, were operating within Federation space, and are subject to Federation law. Lord Milaresh, however – '

'Lord Milaresh commissioned the crime on a Federation Starbase,' Spock said darkly, remembering that confused, helpless moment as he had slipped into unconsciousness in the middle of a starbase crowd. 'The men were hired on a Federation Starbase. The abduction, subject to Lord Milaresh's orders, took place on a Federation Starbase.'

'The rapes did not,' Anderson said pointedly, with no attempt to soften her words. 'In fact, by your account they occurred in complete privacy, with no witnesses other than individuals who were either complicit in the crime, or were fellow victims of the crime. In fact,' she continued, skimming her eyes over the padd in her hand, 'according to this data, you yourself were an active participant, at least once.'

Spock trembled almost imperceptibly. His eyes were focussed firmly on the table before him.

'There is a notable difference,' he said in a low voice, 'between being active and being willing.'

'You engaged in penetrative intercourse with a female slave,' the woman continued, still with her eyes on the padd. 'She was unwilling.'

'We were both unwilling,' Spock insisted, his barely repressed anger finally giving him the courage to raise his head. 'We were – instructed – to engage in intercourse for – the amusement – of the Lords Milaresh and Mavanesh. To refuse would have resulted in severe physical punishment for both of us. It was – only logical to obey.'

'I understand,' Anderson said, a small smile of sympathy softening her face. 'I *do* understand, Commander. But anything like this will be picked upon. Do *you* understand that? Are you prepared to sit before a room full of people and recount events like that one, and to be cross-examined, to have insinuations and accusations thrown at you, to have the defence doing *everything* to show that you were willing?'

Spock could not stop himself from rising to his feet. He took two trembling steps away from the table, clenching his hands before his body. He stared at the wall.

'I was *enslaved,*' he said in a trembling voice. 'They took my sight and my voice and my freedom, and they forced me into – unspeakable acts, and they *beat* me beyond the limits of endurance when my conduct was displeasing. To punish me for preventing a rape, he had me whipped until I could barely stand, and then he fastened me to a table and beat me with his belt buckle, and then raped me, with no mercy or compassion. He laughed about the incident with his friend. Just five days later, they both raped me again, regardless of my existing injuries from the initial attack. I have never – felt such pain – as I did then.'

He wheeled around, to see the lieutenant watching him with an apparently emotionless face. She seemed to have stolen his own emotional control and utilised it herself. She knew everything of what he had suffered – or at least, everything that he had reported – and had doubtless seen the photographic evidence of his abuse. At that moment she seemed to hold as much power over him as Milaresh had done.

'Do you understand, Lieutenant?' he asked, his emotions quivering and churning just below the surface of his control. 'I – cannot describe the effect of that upon me. I cannot – '

'Mr Spock,' she said softly, standing up to face him. 'I understand. I don't mean to be callous – I really don't – but you will face this before more people than just me. I have to be sure that you're able to go through with it. We'll be prosecuting for everything – the abduction, the mutilation, the unlawful imprisonment, the slavery – but the rape will be used – by *both* sides – as the most powerful tool.'

Spock clenched his fists, closing his eyes briefly as he condensed and controlled his emotions.

'I must apologise for my outburst, Lieutenant' he said in a level voice as he regained his seat at the table. 'I will endeavour to control…'

'I don't blame you, Commander,' she said firmly. 'Really, I can't imagine what you've been though. I'm just trying to make you aware of the turmoil that you will be put through. If you find it hard in front of me, then it will be ten times harder in front of people who are trying to defend the man who did this.'

'I understand that, Lieutenant,' Spock nodded. 'And I admit that I am not – fully prepared – for such an encounter. But I do intend to do all that I can to be prepared when the time comes. It is what I must do.'

She nodded, looking down at her notes again. 'This friend of yours – Mr Delash, isn't he? He was a fellow slave on Villanesh 4?'

Spock nodded.

'Is he willing to support you as a witness?'

Spock nodded again. 'He is reluctant, but he will do it. He has assured me…'

'You can rely on him?' she asked seriously.

Spock considered gravely for a moment, then said, 'I would trust that man with my life. But – he had no idea of exactly what had happened to me until after I was released,' he pointed out. 'He was aware of my distress, but he did not know the cause.'

'You never told anyone?'

Spock shook his head. 'You forget, Lieutenant, that I was entirely dependent on self-invented sign language. It would not have been easy to discuss the finer points of my treatment.'

'Then you wouldn't have been able to tell Lord Milaresh no,' she mused, almost to herself.

Spock stared at her.

'Lord Milaresh was quite aware that he was acting against my will,' he said flatly, managing this time to keep his emotions away from his voice.

'Was *anyone* aware of what had happened,' she persisted, 'apart from the accused?'

Spock's head dropped for a moment. 'Master Robbesh,' he said reluctantly. 'He was the overseer of the household. He was fully aware of what Lord Milaresh had done.'

'A free man?' Anderson asked. 'An employee, and not a slave?'

'Insofar as any person below the rank of Lord is free on Villanesh 4, then Master Robbesh is a free man,' Spock nodded.

'Then he was complicit in the crime,' Anderson said baldly.

Spock sighed, shaking his head, the memory of all the times that Master Robbesh had helped him flashing through his mind.

'He procured me treatment, and attempted to help me. The first time it happened he advised Lord Milaresh to restrain himself from repeating his assault until I was healed. I gained a good deal of support from Master Robbesh.'

'But he stood by and allowed you to be assaulted,' Anderson countered, watching his face intently. 'My notes say that he was also the one who blinded you and removed your vocal cords, and the one who arranged for your abduction.'

'Yes, that is true,' Spock admitted reluctantly. 'At least, I believe he arranged the abduction, on his master's orders.'

'I've spoken to witnesses from the Starbase that confirm that he did,' Anderson nodded. 'But you want to protect him, Commander?' she asked curiously.

Spock's logic and control seemed to be turning in on itself. How did he explain how much he felt he owed to Master Robbesh, despite what the man had done?

'Master Robbesh was the only person in Lord Milaresh's mansion who had any power to protect me – and he did protect me, to the best of his abilities,' he said steadily. 'He is the one person who stands between Lord Milaresh and the slaves, and very often Lord Milaresh would listen to his advice. I do not wish to implicate him in any crime.'

Anderson smiled. Humans seemed to smile at such odd moments. Spock could not imagine what was amusing about this conversation.

'That may be impossible, Mr Spock,' she said. 'He is inextricably bound up with the case.'

Spock exhaled, looking down at his hands.

'Have you achieved what you wished to today, Miss Anderson?' he asked. He was at the limits of his endurance for discussing a subject so unpleasant to him.

She looked up at him, regarding him with a kind of detached criticism.

'I think so, Mr Spock,' she said finally. 'Most of all I wanted to be sure that you were up to the trial, considering the – emotional and traumatic atmosphere of a case like this.'

Spock raised an eyebrow.

'Do you believe that I am 'up to it'?' he asked.

'I think so,' she nodded, gathering together her things. 'I'll take all this away and continue my work on the case. Can you meet with me at the same time tomorrow?'

Spock nodded briefly. His schedule was remarkably empty at present.

'We will need to go over points of the case in far more detail,' she warned him. 'You might find it – upsetting.'

Spock looked at her sharply, trying to gauge exactly what she meant by that – but there was no hint of mockery, only of compassion.

'I will endeavour to control my reactions,' he said gravely. 'Thank you for your patience, Lieutenant Anderson.'

She smiled. 'Believe me, Mr Spock. Most people in your case wouldn't be half as controlled.'

'Most people are not Vulcan,' Spock pointed out.

'No,' she said simply. 'Most people aren't.'

Spock watched her leave the room, as brisk and efficient as every member of Starfleet Legal that he had ever seen. His confidence in her had grown since he had walked into the room. His confidence in himself, however, was in tatters. If he could not hold together his control in front of one woman who was on his side in this case, then how would he do so before a roomful of strangers who sought to find lies and deception in his testimony?

He rested his arms on the table tiredly – and then sank his head down onto his arms and sat there, letting his gaze rest on the blank table stretching away from him. Odd how one's perspective changed so much with a slight shift of position. From here, the table seemed vast and daunting, rather than a compact and useful piece of furniture. Perhaps, with his head raised up, the spectre of Milaresh and his defence team would not seem daunting… Perhaps – if one could parallel an altered view of a table with his reaction to a man who had been the author of the most miserable period of his life.

He did not raise his head up, but closed his eyes instead, and stayed in the silence of the room, letting his thoughts settle in his mind. He was whole, he was healing. Milaresh held no power over him now. If his case was successful, Milaresh would never hold power again. He would be incarcerated in some Federation border correctional facility, perhaps even subject to the same abuse that Spock himself –

No. He dragged himself away from that thought. He was not doing this for revenge. He would not wish that on anyone else. It was not logical to wish it on anyone else…

'Spockesh…'

Spock jerked upright. He had not even heard the door open. Delash stood there, clad in yet another of the Fleet jumpsuits that made up his wardrobe, a hesitant, apologetic look on his face.

'I was waiting for you to come out,' he explained. 'But you didn't… Was it difficult?'

Spock pressed his lips together. 'More difficult than I had imagined,' he admitted, getting to his feet.

'She looked – intimidating.'

'She was not intimidating,' Spock said honestly. 'But the subject was intimidating. Events as they must proceed are intimidating…'

'We're going back to Villanesh,' Delash said, a further degree of nervousness entering his voice. 'The captain said we have to go back there to make sure that the Master attends the trial.'

Spock suppressed a knowing smile. *Make sure* was undoubtedly Kirk's way of saying *forcibly detain*. Kirk had not told him of this particular part of the plan, and he wondered why…

'Delash, would you excuse me?' he said abruptly, but not unkindly. 'I need to speak to the captain.'

'Of course, Spockesh,' Delash said, taking a step backwards.

For a moment the veil that had lowered between them when Delash had expressed his feelings for Spock thickened a little. On Villanesh they had been equals. If anything, Delash had been superior to him. Here, Delash was apart from the rest of the ship. He had nothing here but his feelings for Spock, and that was becoming an increasingly tenuous thread between them as Spock became more of his former self.

'I appreciate you coming to check on me,' Spock said more kindly. 'Understand, I do not intend offence with my manner. It is who I am.'

'I understand you, Spockesh,' Delash said with a sudden smile. 'I think I understand more than I should.'

He reached out a hand to Spock's face, as he had done before. This time Spock did not resist the touch. He merely closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he felt every nuance of Delash's desire to comfort him through the light touch. Delash's fingers were surprisingly soft and cool against his cheek, and the urge to lean closer in to his comfort was overwhelming.

'Spock,' Delash whispered. 'I am sorry…'

This time Spock found himself leaning forward, his eyes still closed, until he felt the stiffness of Delash's beard against his face. Their lips touched, and Spock sank into a kiss that seemed to soothe away every tension in his body. Delash's mouth tasted faintly of pineapple. His teeth were smooth and clean. His tongue felt strong and supple against Spock's own. Delash's arms were around him, his hands moving up under his top, tracing with great sensitivity over the scars that latticed his skin.

A rush of exhilaration came over Spock. He was in *control*. This was his choice. This was Delash, looking at the body that had disgraced him so, and desiring it so much that even the tight, knotted scars did not bother him, and the knowledge of what had been done to it did not bother him…

He turned his head sideways momentarily, taking just long enough to order, 'Computer, engage privacy lock. No override. Authorisation, Spock, First Officer,' and then he turned his face back through the scratching beard and found Delash's mouth again, and began to re-examine its interior with languid movements of his tongue.

'Spock,' Delash whispered as he finally broke away. In Delash's mouth, Delash who had only ever called him Spockesh, that name acquired a new significance. It became a monosyllable of seduction and trust and love.

In this ship set for human temperature preferences, despite his own need for greater warmth, Spock was suddenly unbearably hot. He was tearing off his shirts and throwing them aside. He was releasing the catch on his trousers and relieving the pressure on his suddenly stiffened penis. Delash's shoulders and chest were bare, and Spock was tracing his hands along his collarbones, and then the man's jumpsuit was crumpled about his knees, Delash's own erection rearing before him.

Delash pulled him closer, caught both eager organs in one hand, holding them together and working his hand up and down them together in a movement that made Spock moan with desire. The feeling of Delash's cool erection held firmly against the heat of his own overwhelmed his mind. Green blood and red blood pulsing next to each other… Delash's swift, strong fingers moving against his skin… Delash's other hand was cupping under Spock's scrotum, that had suddenly become impossibly tight and ridged with the force of his desire. Delash's nails stroked lightly over the tight crinkles, his fingers delicately exploring every inch of skin.

Spock threw his head back, his own hands moving on Delash's back, feeling scars similar to his own there working over surprisingly firm muscles. He shuddered at a particularly tight movement of Delash's hand, stroking his own hands down towards Delash's buttocks, where the scars faded away and there was nothing but smooth skin over powerful, rounded muscles.

'No,' he murmured finally, although it was not in response to anything that Delash had said.

Delash's other hand was searching backwards, massaging the flat expanse behind the tightness of his scrotum, seeking between his legs with ever increasing urgency for the opening that he desired. Spock felt ready for all manner of things – but not for that. Not yet.

'This time it will be *me*,' Spock said in a deep, firm voice.

He broke away and went to the room's small replicator, ordering the first thing that came to his mind – a vial of olive oil. Then he tumbled Delash down onto the floor and knelt above him, parting Delash's legs as Delash lifted his knees up and rolled his hips back and relaxed his muscles. Spock smoothed a handful of oil down over the length of his penis before pressing with controlled fervour against the opening there. There was a moment of resistance, and Spock hesitated, suddenly unsure.

'Do it,' Delash urged him in a low, breathless voice. 'You won't hurt me, Spock. This is so very different…'

And Spock favoured him with the hint of a smile, before pushing forwards through the muscular opening until the length of him slid into Delash's body with a gliding, gripping sensation that made him moan aloud. He leaned himself forward over Delash's body, his lips magnetised to the other man's, his hips thrusting with sure, powerful movements into that cool, clenching opening. He could feel the solidity of Delash's erection between their bodies, and he pressed down harder onto it, using his torso to stroke its length as he continued to thrust home. The room around him faded away until all that he could feel was Delash's mouth under his, and the firmness of his erection against his belly, and the tightness clenched about his own organ… Exquisite pleasure surged through his entire body, focussing with the intensity of electricity through his pelvis, and he cried out into Delash's muffling mouth as he felt the jerking release of orgasm, Delash's own explosion making a slick of wetness between their bodies.

Spock lay still, panting, the side of his face against the prickling of the beard on Delash's cheek, his fingers entwined in Delash's hair. Delash's own hot breath was billowing over the side of his, and he felt the tip of the man's tongue tracing along the delicate point of his ear.

'Oh,' Delash murmured finally. 'Spock…'

Spock allowed himself a smile.

'Yes,' he said in a low, rumbling voice like the purr of a cat. 'Very much so.'

'And I thought you said you didn't feel that way,' Delash said in a light tone.

Spock's eyes sparkled. 'I was mistaken,' he said.

'I like a man who can admit to his mistakes,' Delash smiled.

Spock pressed his hand against Delash's head, then with great reluctance rolled himself off Delash's body, looking down at the sticky mat of hair on his belly.

'Messy, this business, isn't it?' he asked.

Delash let loose a snort of laughter. 'Yes, Spockesh, dear. It is messy. But it's also fun.'

'Yes…'Spock said.

A feeling of gravity came over him like a cloud. He remembered hearing Milaresh's pants of satiety, the feeling of Milaresh's body, heavy and relaxed, over his own. That scent of oil and of semen released into air...

A surge of nausea overtook him, and he pressed his hand to his mouth.

'Spock,' Delash said softly, rolling onto his side and reaching out again to the Vulcan's face before he could become trapped in his memories. 'It's all right. We chose this. Both of us, together. No one was forced. *You* were not forced. And you enjoyed it. I *felt* your joy in your mind. It was like a flame bursting forth. I never knew that you could feel such joy.'

The corners of Spock's mouth turned up, just a little.

'Yes,' he nodded. 'I did feel joy. For those few minutes, I forgot – everything.'

'Keep forgetting it,' Delash urged him. 'Look at me,' he said, fixing his eyes on Spock's.

Spock stared into the dark, sepia depths, letting that intense gaze anchor him in the present. He had not been able to look into anyone's eyes on Villanesh.

'There is no one else in this room but you and me,' Delash assured him. 'No ghosts. No evil. Just you and me. You don't have to let anyone else in.'

Spock's tenuous control suddenly seemed to collapse, and he pressed his face against Delash's chest as he wept hot tears of release against his skin. Delash's arms came around his body again and stroked his shivering muscles, and his lips kissed gently at the top of his head, and Spock lay against him and accepted all the comfort that Delash could give.

'We must move,' Delash said eventually. 'Spockesh,' he said, shaking the Vulcan a little, suddenly afraid that he had wept himself into sleep. 'We should go before someone wonders…'

Spock stirred, pulling himself stiffly away from Delash's chest and carefully pressing the feeling of dried tears away from his eyes with the heels of his hands. McCoy had once said to him that the release of emotions was a healthy thing. In this case it seemed to be true. He had experienced a broader spectrum of emotion in this last hour than he ever had before in his life, and he felt a lightness within his chest that he had not experienced for a long time. He looked into Delash's eyes, and saw no revulsion or censure for the emotion that he had shown. Delash simply accepted it, as he accepted everything else about Spock.

He sat up, feeling the crackle of semen that was dried onto his body as he moved.

'Yes,' he said. 'I would say that we both need a wash, at the very least…'

Delash laughed.

'But how will we explain this?' he asked, looking at the disarray around them as he sat.

In their fervour chairs had been knocked over, there was a patch of dampness on the carpet where Delash had lain, and their clothes were strewn about the room as if they had been caught by the wind.

'No one will have to know,' Spock said, taking a chair and putting it back on its feet as the first step to righting the room. He rubbed a foot over the swiftly drying patch on the floor. 'There are stains enough on these carpets. I had never before considered all the causes… Besides,' he said, straightening up with a new dignity despite his nude and dishevelled state. 'I am the First Officer of this ship. There are very few people here who can compel me to answer their questions.'

'Spock,' Kirk said, looking up from his desk as the Vulcan came into his room. 'I must say I expected you sooner when your Delash said he was going to tell you we were heading for Villanesh.'

'*My* Delash, Jim?' Spock asked curiously.

His hair was still damp from the intensely stimulating shower that he had just shared with Delash in his quarters, and he could still feel the heady sensations of Delash's hands all over his body – but he could not imagine either that Kirk could have found out about what had happened, or that he would refer to it so lightly.

'Well, he's more your Delash than anyone else's,' Kirk smiled. 'He's only here for you, Spock. He doesn't have any reason to still be on the ship but for the fact that he's going to bear witness at the trial.'

'Ah, of course,' Spock nodded gravely. Once the trial was over, of course Delash would have to leave the ship…

'You'll miss him, won't you, Spock?' At Spock's uncomfortable reaction he laughed, and said, 'Spock, you spent six months in close quarters with the man. You're allowed to admit to a friendship.'

Spock inclined his head. 'I will miss him, Jim,' he admitted. 'But there is nothing to be done for it. Delash must form his own life.'

Again, his mind wandered. Long distance relationships were not unknown to Vulcans. He had spent thirty years of his life bonded to a woman that he had not seen since he was seven years of age, only to have the relationship crumple at Koon-ut-kal-if-fee. He saw Delash settled somewhere on a borderlands planet, Spock corresponding with him through video communications, taking leave that he had previously shunned in order to spend intense days and nights of passion with him, and then returning to the Enterprise as the logical, unemotional First Officer that everyone believe him to be. It would not perhaps be the ideal relationship. It would be harder on Delash than it would be on him. Spock was used to containing his emotions and living in some degree of solitude. Delash was not. Delash, perhaps, would find another person to share his loneliness. Perhaps he would even choose to live with one of his former seven. Spock would accept that as a logical payoff for the kind of relationship that they had chosen to form. Perhaps he would even include the third in their relationship. The inhabitants of Villanesh 4 were not naturally monogamous, and the idea was not unthinkable…

'Spock, are you listening to me?' Kirk asked.

Spock blinked, bringing his attention back to his captain.

'I guess it was tough, meeting with Anderson,' Kirk said sympathetically.

'It – was not easy,' Spock said, truthfully enough. 'Jim, Delash said that you were going to Villanesh to make sure that Milaresh attends trial.'

Kirk grinned suddenly. 'Nothing like the presence of a ship of the line to put the fear of God into them, Spock. With any luck they'll just hand him straight over. And if not…'

'If not, Jim?'

Kirk shrugged. 'If not, I have Starfleet approval to go down there and get him. They may have been burying their heads in the sand, but as soon as you expressed a desire to prosecute they had to show themselves to be completely on their side. It's either that, or be pilloried for upholding slavery. If Villanesh protests, then *they'll* be pilloried for upholding slavery. It's not exactly something they advertise.'

'Then one way or another, you will have Lord Milaresh, on this ship,' Spock said soberly.

'Yes, Spock,' Kirk nodded. 'Briefly. We'll take him straight to Starbase 53, and he'll stand trial there.'

'And – Master Robbesh?' Spock asked with some degree of apprehension.

Kirk sighed. 'The warrant covers him too. If he's there, we're obliged to take him.'

Spock nodded slowly, staring down at his hands.

'If it helps, I agree with you,' Kirk said. 'That place needs men like him to help protect people from men like Milaresh. Of course, if this case brings down slavery on Villanesh – '

'It will not,' Spock said with assurance. 'It may signal the beginning, but it will not happen swiftly.'

'If you want, you can come along for the ride, Spock,' Kirk said, meeting Spock's eyes. 'You know the place better than I do.'

'Not by sight,' Spock pointed out.

'No,' Kirk nodded. 'But you still know it. You know where they're likely to be – both of them.'

There it was again – that pointed, meaningful look into Spock's eyes.

'Yes,' Spock said slowly, realisation of Kirk's meaning dawning in his mind. 'Yes, I understand, Captain. I would be more than willing to beam down and assist you in the search.'