12.

Spock was still in the sick bay when Kirk beamed up, sitting patiently through McCoy's long and involved examination of his reactions on the planet's surface, and the causes of those reactions. He felt, against all Vulcan logic, numb. He was listening most attentively to what McCoy was saying, and if he reviewed the conversation later he would know precisely what had been said – but another part of his mind was reserved for the repeating mantra of, *He is dead. Milaresh is dead.*

He was not even certain if that fact gave him gratification or regret. Milaresh would never hurt him again. He would not be vindicated by an unjust court. He would not cause anyone else to suffer. But conversely, he would never be condemned. He would never be told in certain terms that what he had done was wrong. He would not be held up to shame and just vilification.

Did he really want that? Did he want public revenge? Was this not a private affair, enacted between him and Milaresh alone?

He sighed, and McCoy said peevishly, 'Spock, I suspected you weren't listening to me, but now I know you weren't.'

Spock focussed his eyes on the doctor's face, concentrating his mind for a moment on that other, external conversation that he had been involved in.

'You just told me, and I quote, *As time goes on your memories will get easier to deal with. Time heals, Spock,*' he said confidently.

McCoy harrumphed in frustration. 'Just because you can roll off pat what I said doesn't mean you were listening, Spock. Now, what's going on in that terrifyingly convoluted brain of yours?'

Spock turned his head at a noise outside.

'I think that is the captain waiting for an opportune moment to disturb us,' he said, using a combination of skills learnt from months of blindness and his excellent hearing to interpret the small sounds outside. 'He's quite impatient.'

'Then he can carry on being impatient,' McCoy said unsympathetically. 'He ordered me to see to you, and I'm seeing to you. Captain or not, you don't walk in on a medical consultation and break it up just because you're impatient.'

Spock cocked his head to one side. 'Jim *does,*' he said sagaciously, as the door hissed open.

'Jim does what?' Kirk asked as he stalked through the door, looking from doctor to first officer and back again.

'Jim does have no respect for the sanctity of a doctor's consultation room,' McCoy said tartly. 'I haven't finished with my patient yet, Captain. Get.'

'You've been with him over an hour, Bones!'

'You sent him to me with shock. You didn't expect me to give him a miracle hypo and send him on his way?'

Kirk shrugged, holding his arms out from his sides. 'I expected you to be finished by now.'

'I'll tell you what – you don't tell me how to run my practice, and I won't tell you how to run your starship,' McCoy said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.

'You *do* tell me how to run my starship, frequently,' Kirk said pointedly.

'Do you know how much longer I spent learning to be a doctor than you did to be a starship captain?' McCoy asked tartly.

Kirk's eyebrow arched. 'Really, Doctor? When you count four years at the Academy, three – '

'Gentlemen,' Spock interrupted softly. 'May I suggest that this is an argument that neither of you is going to win? Suffice to say, you are both *still* learning to be proficient at your professions, as am I.'

Kirk inhaled deeply, then looked at the doctor with a conciliatory smile.

'Bones, what say I take your patient and minister to him in my own way for a while, then deliver him back to you afterwards?'

'A respite, at least,' Spock murmured, not quite quietly enough for McCoy to ignore.

The doctor sighed. 'For all he's listening to me here, he might as well go with you for now. But Spock, I want to talk to you again tomorrow. There're too many issues writhing around in that head of yours. We need to get some of them straightened out.'

'Very well, Doctor,' Spock said tolerantly, rising to his feet. 'Your quarters, Captain?'

'My quarters,' Kirk nodded, an odd expression flitting over his face for a moment. 'I want to be sure of privacy.'

******

'Well, Spock,' Kirk said, when they were settled in the secluded comfort of his cabin. 'That was an – interesting day's work, wasn't it?'

Spock's eyebrow rose. 'Interesting is a relative term.'

'Milaresh dead,' the captain said in an overly casual tone, his gaze cast down to where his thumbs were twirling about each other restlessly. 'You and Delash engaged in – what I can only call a clinch – by his body…'

Spock looked up sharply at that. He had expected many things from this conversation, but not that. Some part of himself that was supremely skilled at denial had convinced him that Kirk had noticed nothing unusual in Milaresh's chamber..

'Spock, are you engaged in a – relationship – with Mr Delash?' Kirk asked directly.

Spock's eyes became veiled.

'I do not understand the relevance of that question,' he said blandly.

'The relevance is that I'm your friend,' Kirk said in a softer voice, leaning forward in his chair. 'Spock, you were enslaved, blinded – raped. It's not – usual – for you to be involved in a relationship, much less a relationship with a man.'

'It is not usual for me to be enslaved, blinded and raped,' Spock said pointedly, keeping his voice very level.

'That was done *to* you, Spock. Is this – being done to you too?'

Spock almost visibly bridled at that. The idea of Delash imposing anything on him seemed absurd.

'Nothing is being done to me without my consent.'

Kirk nodded very slowly, then said in an abrupt change of subject, 'We have Mavanesh, Spock. He's in the brig right now.'

There was a minute change in Spock's expression that Kirk could not quite quantify.

'That is gratifying news, Captain,' he said.

'The Villanesh authorities aren't entirely happy with what happened to Milaresh, but they don't dare kick up too much fuss for fear of drawing attention to their way of life. Delash is off the hook, though. There won't be any reprisals.'

Spock visibly relaxed at that, and a glimmer of intrigue entered Kirk's eyes at the Vulcan's reaction.

'Spock, do you – love – Delash?' he asked awkwardly.

Spock looked up slowly, and said honestly, 'I – am not certain how one defines love.'

Kirk nodded as if his question had been answered, then said gently, 'Just – take care of yourself, won't you, Spock? You've been through something no one should ever be subjected to. I want to see you come out of it whole.'

'As do I, Captain,' Spock said sincerely. He sighed, and then said with clear honesty, 'I am uncertain as to the true nature of my relationship with Delash. But both of us are aware that I will stay on the ship, and he will leave, after the trial.'

Kirk nodded again, slowly, rubbing a thumb over his lips.

'You are not comfortable with this relationship,' Spock said steadily.

Kirk shook his head. 'It's not my place to be either comfortable or uncomfortable.'

'But you *are* uncomfortable,' Spock persisted.

The captain sighed. 'I don't know, Spock. I'm happy for you, I guess, as long as everything's – all right.'

'Everything is all right,' Spock assured him sincerely.

'All right,' Kirk nodded concisely. 'Then I'll drop the subject.'

He sat silent for a while, regarding Spock steadily. Finally he said, 'Mavanesh's trial will be in a week, Spock, when we get to the starbase. Do you think you're ready for that?'

'I will be,' Spock nodded with an assurance he did not quite feel. 'Lieutenant Anderson and I are holding regular meetings to discuss the trial. The case is quite clear cut.'

Kirk nodded slowly. He could not imagine that the case was as clear cut in Spock's mind as it was on paper. He could not imagine how deeply Spock's experiences might have affected the private, dignified Vulcan in the long-term. There had been something subtly different in Spock's face ever since he had been rescued from Villanesh – perhaps something connected with loss of confidence, or of a mind awakened to a side of life that he had never before considered. In some areas Spock's innocence prior to those events had reached childlike levels, and he could not imagine that any of that innocence was left.

'Spock, will you have a game of chess with me?' he asked finally.

Something that was almost a smile touched the corner of Spock's mouth.

'I would welcome it,' he nodded. 'It is a very long time since I last played chess.'

******

The trial seemed to approach very quickly. Just the knowledge that Mavanesh was there, in custody on the ship, seemed to focus Spock's memories with unpleasant sharpness, and the week's travel to the starbase was divided into emotionally strained meetings with Lieutenant Anderson and private, nightmarish periods of reflection within his own cabin. His evenings and nights merged seamlessly between strange, unVulcan hours of intense association with Delash, and nights that descended into bad dream after bad dream, with Delash holding him each time he awoke. The only time in the entire week when he was not thinking of Milaresh and Mavanesh was during those intense evening hours with Delash, when purely physical activities drove everything else out of his mind.

Now he was sitting in a generic courtroom on Starbase 53, facing a panel of very human and very superior officers, having those private nightmares that had tormented him for months drawn out and dissected like dead things. He felt like a cadaver in a laboratory, as person after person discussed what had happened to his body without ever looking at him. He knew, intellectually, the reason why the braided and medal-adorned officers were avoiding his eyes. He knew that if they once made eye-contact his shame would flood into the room and be shared by everyone. There was no equitable solution to his situation. The only option was to endure it until the end.

He was sitting in a chair some feet in front of the assembled witnesses and experts now, and a man in typically Villanesh clothing was opening his interrogation. Perhaps officially the process would go by another name, but Spock felt that it was doubtless that he was being interrogated by this self-confident, self-righteous man.

'Commander Spock, are you certain that this is the man that you accuse of abuse?' the man asked. He was the first person in the room to make eye contact with the Vulcan, but there was no sharing of shame in the gaze – only a hard disbelief.

'I cannot visually identify him,' Spock said levelly, keeping a veil of discipline drawn up between himself and this combative man. 'But it *is* Lord Mavanesh of the planet Villanesh 4.'

'I ask you again, Commander,' the man said in a hard tone. 'Can you positively identify this man?'

Spock exhaled slowly, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the defending attorney. At least that way it kept him from looking at Mavanesh, who was sat just a short distance away from him in a slightly elevated enclosure.

'I recognise his voice, and his scent, and his mental presence,' he said steadily. 'I cannot identify him by sight. I was quite blind during my time on Villanesh 4.'

'Mental presence,' the man repeated scathingly.

'Vulcan telepathic abilities were acknowledged by Federation Legal some two years ago,' Spock said. 'I can recognise a person's mental presence as easily and as accurately – perhaps more so – as you can recognise a face. That man there is undoubtedly the same man that – abused – me on Villanesh.'

'Lord Mavanesh,' the man said, turning towards the lord with a slight bow. 'Do you recognise your accuser?'

Lord Mavanesh inclined his head very slightly. 'I have known him as Sarkesh, a chamber slave in the employ of Lord Milaresh of Milaresh Villa.'

'For the court,' the defence attorney supplied, 'Sarkesh was the name appended to Commander Spock while he was in the employ of Lord Milaresh of Milaresh Villa.' He turned back to Mavanesh. 'And the traditional duties of the chamber slave would be?'

Mavanesh looked directly at Spock. 'To attend to all the needs of the chamber – to clean and tidy the room. To assist his lord with his dressing and undressing. To serve the lord and his guests as required with food and drink. And,' he continued in a harsher tone, 'to submit to any desire that the lord may make of him.'

'You mean to perform sexual acts?' the man asked.

Mavanesh nodded. 'To submit to sexual acts with the lord and his guests, and to perform them as required. And I must say, this slave did an admirable job, too,' he said with a lazy smile.

'Lord Mavanesh, would you confine yourself to simply answering the questions?' the judge said in a tone of weary annoyance.

Mavanesh nodded his head slightly, but as he did he looked directly at Spock, letting his tongue trail suggestively across his lip in a way that made the Vulcan feel nauseous. Spock caught a sense of mounting anger behind him, and glanced backwards to see both Kirk and Delash struggling to retain their seats.

'Did Commander Spock perform sexual acts with you?' the attorney asked.

Anderson shot to her feet and said sharply, 'I object to the wording of that question. *With* implies consent. My client did not offer consent.'

The judge regarded her with the impassivity of a Vulcan.

'We are not trying to establish consent at this point, Miss Anderson. Let the question stand.'

The defence attorney nodded, and turned back to Mavanesh. 'I repeat, Lord Mavanesh, did Commander Spock perform sexual acts with you?'

'Oh, a great many,' Mavanesh smiled slickly. 'His oral performance was the pride of Lord Milaresh's establishment.'

'You mean fellatio?'

'Oh, yes,' Mavanesh said slowly. 'I've never known a slave with a mouth quite as *hot* as his. And his tongue work…'

Anderson surged to her feet again with barely controlled anger. '*Objection!* Sir, please – '

The judge glanced at Spock's face. The Vulcan's face was white, and his hands were clenched on the arms of the chair.

'Sustained,' he nodded. 'Mr Janesh, if your client cannot confine his replies to what is relevant, then I will hold him in contempt of court.'

'Of course, sir,' Janesh said in a humble tone. 'Lord Mavanesh, can you detail exactly what acts did occur between you and Commander Spock, without embellishment, please?'

Spock closed his eyes as Mavanesh continued to speak, trying to control his reactions to what was being said before this room full of people. It was most illogical how psychological torment could transfer itself to such a sense of nausea. Then, finally, he became aware of Anderson pleading for a recess – and pleading for it on his account. Numbly he heard the request being granted, and almost without consciousness of his actions he found himself kneeling on the floor in the nearby toilets, regurgitating his sparse breakfast into a shining white porcelain bowl.

'Spockesh…'

The voice behind him was almost a whisper, and he turned his head slightly, panting, to see Delash kneeling behind him, reaching a hand out towards his shoulder.

'I'm all right,' he murmured, clambering to his feet. He wavered, and was grateful for Delash's firm hand helping him over to the basins.

'Drink,' Delash said in a low voice, turning on the tap for him.

Spock thrust a hand into the icy water, bringing a scoop of it to his mouth and letting it wash away the bitter taste of vomit.

'You don't have to go back in,' Delash said to him softly, putting his arms about Spock's body as he straightened up.

'I am, in fact, legally obliged to go back in,' Spock said in a flat voice as he leant against Delash's support.

'There must be another way…'

Spock shook his head. 'I am not a child. I do not merit the protection of a video link or screening from those I accuse. I am a Vulcan. I have learnt disciplines almost since birth that should enable me to deal with this.'

Delash smiled softly. 'Spockesh, were you taught disciplines in the cradle to help you deal with slavery and rape?'

'Indirectly, yes,' Spock nodded firmly. 'I was taught control of my emotions. I was taught the philosophy of accepting what could not be changed. Those disciplines – failed me at times on Villanesh. They failed me two minutes ago. I must not allow them to fail me again. I cannot fail myself.'

'You won't fail yourself,' Delash said firmly.

Spock stood away from Delash's support, attempting to regain some self-possession.

'They are trying to establish a cultural precedent,' he said in a low voice. 'They are trying to argue that my treatment was nothing more than the cultural norm on your planet. The Federation dislikes interfering with the unique cultures of alien civilisations.'

'But – you were stolen,' Delash protested. 'You were kidnapped and taken there. You weren't born into slavery. You didn't fall into it through debt or crime…'

Spock met Delash's eyes briefly. He had never asked Delash what had led him into slavery.

'Debt,' Delash said, reading Spock's unspoken question. 'I – was replaced in my job. I had no means of supporting my family. So I was committed to slavery.'

'Your – family?' Spock asked slowly. He had never seen anything of the kind in Delash's mind.

Delash nodded slowly. 'I had a woman and a child. When I fell into debt I took the option of service. My Lord would re-establish my family with the means to live, in return for my service.'

Spock blinked his eyes closed slowly. He could not imagine how difficult it would be to voluntarily make that decision.

'And now?' he asked. 'You are no longer enslaved. Your family – ?'

Delash laughed shortly. 'The child will be an adult now. And her – I don't know where she is or how she survives, but likely she is remarried and happy. Remarried to a man who can support her…'

Spock stared at him. The man he knew as Delash had morphed into someone subtly different. *His* Delash had become a being with a whole new history, far deeper than that of a simple slave.

'Spockesh?' Delash asked curiously. 'What is wrong?'

Spock shook his head. 'You have a family, Delash. You should not give them up as past ghosts. You may even have grandchildren…'

Delash smiled slowly. 'Spockesh, my people don't work like that. If family took care of family on my planet I would not have found myself in slavery.'

'You found yourself in slavery to save your family,' Spock pointed out.

'To ensure my child grew up in the best way,' Delash nodded. 'Most societies will do that for their children, Spock. But my child is grown. My duty is served. I am without ties now – of any kind.'

Spock's eyes bored into his, trying to read the alien mind that he had thought that he knew.

'Of course,' he nodded, letting a slight smile touch his lips. He put his hand to Delash's arm. 'Come. We have an hour, I believe. Let's make use of the time we are allowed.' At the slight sparkle in Delash's eyes he said, 'No. Not that. I would welcome a beverage of some description.'

******

The trial lasted for more than a week. By the time that summing up had been done by both defence and prosecution, Spock felt as if every second of his time on Villanesh had been wrung from his mind and paraded before the court. He hoped that his side of the story had been viewed more favourably than Mavanesh's. It was hard to imagine how Mavanesh *could* appear righteous to men and women brought up within the Federation's network of ethics and beliefs. But that defending attorney had been *persuasive*. Lieutenant Anderson had also been persuasive, he believed, but…

Spock sat alone in his quarters with those thoughts revolving in his mind. He had declined to sit in the starbase courtroom to listen to the verdict. He had already played enough of a part in the week's events. In some ways the verdict did not matter. It would not affect him. He was free now whether or not one of his abusers was condemned. But still, it mattered… It mattered so very deeply.

'Spock.'

He jumped at the low voice. He had not even heard his door open.

He looked up to see Jim standing in the doorway to his quarters, a subdued smile on his face.

'Come in, Jim,' Spock nodded.

Kirk took a few steps inside the room.

'It's over,' he said softly. 'Verdict and sentencing.'

Spock's eyebrow rose a minute amount, but he did not speak.

'Guilty,' Kirk said in the same soft voice, coming closer to the Vulcan. 'On the charges of rape, sexual assault and physical assault. They couldn't stick the unlawful imprisonment on him, since it was Milaresh who held you all that time. There wasn't enough evidence to prove the times Mavanesh – restrained you – or who it was who instigated it. But – guilty,' he repeated.

Spock nodded, letting his breath slip out slowly between his lips.

'Thank you, Captain,' he said in a similarly subdued voice.

'Are you happy?' Kirk asked. 'As you can be,' he amended quickly.

'It is a satisfactory verdict,' Spock nodded. 'It was always obvious that the death of Milaresh would make many of the offences void. But – '

He sighed. Despite his words there was a certain dissatisfaction in the fact that his blinding, muting, imprisonment and every other hallmark of his slavery, outside of Milaresh's chamber, could never be challenged in law. Milaresh had escaped feeling a measure of the pain and humiliation to which he had subjected Spock. But still… A man who had increased the misery of his days immeasurably had been justly convicted and punished.

'What is the sentence, Captain?' he asked abruptly.

'Thirty-five years in a Federation security institution,' Kirk said flatly. 'Most likely a borderlands one out here somewhere. They would have added counselling into that, but his actions were sanctioned by his society, so they can't establish he has any problems that can actually be changed by counselling. I would have added flogging to it, personally…'

Spock nodded, remembering briefly what it was like to be stripped and bound before an audience, and then subjected to the pain of being beaten with a lash. Every philosophy he lived by disapproved of corporal punishment, but the idea of Mavanesh suffering the same pain was peculiarly pleasing to him.

But thirty-five years was a long time… His own imprisonment had lasted for less than a year… Mavanesh would, perhaps, be abused as he had. He had a moment of hope that the rumoured viciousness of some Federation institutions would be rife in the one that Mavanesh was sent to… Revenge was not logical – but it was satisfying.

'It is all that could be hoped for,' he said steadily, not revealing any of the improper thoughts that were running through his mind.

'Also,' Kirk continued, 'the court advised that the Federation should bring sanctions against Villanesh while they continue to allow slavery on their planet. That had no official bearing, but they let journalists in for the verdict, so I think the story's going to be pretty widespread within the next week or so.'

Spock nodded again. He did not relish the idea of his story being spread about Federation gossip sheets, but if it assisted an end to slavery on Villanesh he could not complain.

'Spock, you know, don't you, that there's no need for Delash to be on the ship now?' Kirk asked hesitantly, after a long silence. 'I spoke to him after the verdict, and offered him passage to anywhere along our route – within reason – but he's elected to stay on the starbase when we leave. The refugee commission allows him enough money for passage to a nearby planet, and something to set himself up with accommodation and a job.'

'Yes, of course,' Spock nodded quickly, covering any other reaction to that news. 'He is essentially redundant on the Enterprise. But he is at least skilled as a labourer and indoor servant, if nothing else.'

The word *servant* lingered uncomfortably in his mind. There was a world of difference between servitude and slavery, but still, he wanted Delash to be autonomous and self-respecting, not bound to the capricious whims of the one who employed him.

'I'm sure he'll set up in something,' Kirk smiled reassuringly. 'The refugee commission's pretty good about looking after people until they can look after themselves.'

'Yes, that is true,' Spock nodded.

Kirk smiled again, and Spock gained the sense that he was mingling an apology for his previous reaction to Spock's relationship with Delash and the reassurance of his continued friendship. Spock *almost* smiled back. He had missed this close companionship with his friend, when both could sit together in one room and know what the other was thinking without having to speak. There was something in Kirk's smile that indicated a return to normal after the weeks and months of strangeness in their lives.

'Anyway,' Kirk said, after a long, warm silence. 'Do you fancy some company at the moment?'

Spock's eyebrow rose in the traditional way.

'I believe I am already experiencing your company, Jim,' he said, and for a brief, weightless moment he felt a normalcy between them, as if neither had any knowledge of rape or suffering or misery in Spock's recent past. 'However, I would appreciate a continuation of your company.'