Act II
When he'd been about five summers old, Princess Whitelaw had fallen into a well. It was not a particularly deep well, but he had been small as a child. The circle of sunlight had looked especially far away. It had not helped that his dress had been soaked through, and he'd been cold, and his overactive imagination had him jumping and pressing himself closer to the wall at every splash and shifting shadow.
Luckily, a young man eventually heard his sobbing and got him out of the well. He'd given the Princess one of his sister's dresses to wear, fed him hot broth, and brought him back up to the palace and his worried parents. Leonard McCoy's actions did not go unrewarded. He was offered an apprenticeship with the then-Head Healer, and given a place in the palace, effectively making him brother to the Princess.
The Narada reminded Princess Jamesina Whitelaw of his time in the well, with two significant differences; one, the temperature in the Narada was incredibly warm and humid – it was bad enough that there was water soaking into the clothes Uhura had given him, but he was sweating on top of it – and; two, there was definitely no Bones to rescue him.
He had been shackled as soon as he'd been – beamed, was it? – aboard the ship. The crew leered at him in his ridiculously short dress, or muttered unflattering words in a language foreign to him, or merely glared at him balefully. The Princess was less frightened of these actions than the blankness he saw in their eyes. The dim lighting in the Narada twisted the tattoos and made them look more malevolent.
"You're shorter than I remember," remarked Nero as the Princess was strapped into a horizontal piece of metal. The Romulan captain looked pointedly at his exposed thighs and calves. "Or maybe that's just the uniform."
Princess Whitelaw gritted his teeth. He dared not even deny being Captain Kirk. If Nero realised this, then he would only go back to get Spock. His sacrifice would be in vain.
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...or the one.
Spock had been right. He was an outsider, he didn't belong here. Therefore, the Princess' absence would not be missed in this world.
He refused to wonder whether or not it would be missed by the Vulcan. Thoughts like that were irrelevant. And it hurt to consider that the answer could be a no.
"Now, James, if you don't cooperate, I'll simply turn back and kill all your crewmembers. You wouldn't want that, would you?" Nero correctly interpreted the blue-eyed glare levelled at him as a 'No'. (To be honest, the actual words the Princess wanted to convey involved no fewer than six swearwords, but let's stick with 'No'.) "Good. Now, I need the codes for Vulcan's defence grid. And the subspace –"
The Princess interrupted him, his voice bolder than he actually felt. "Why're you doing this?"
Nero, who had been staring into space – not literally, seeing as there were no 'windows' where they were – whipped his head around to stare at Jamesina. Although his face betrayed shock, he did not respond.
"What did Spock do to you?" Jamesina frowned and instinctively and ineffectively pulled at his wrist bonds. "What the Hell did he do to deserve this?"
There was an amused smile on Nero's face. "He didn't tell you. Of all people, he didn't tell you."
"Why should he have?" spat the Princess. "He's a Vulcan." Instinct was telling him to play up their enmity. That way Nero couldn't use Spock against him. He couldn't be allowed to find out the depth of Jamesina's feelings for Spock. Not when he himself had no clue.
Don't think about that, Whitelaw. Not now. Not. Now.
The insane laugh made his teeth hurt.
"Well, well, my coming did change a few things. In my time, it is rumoured that you and he –" Nero abruptly broke off as he strolled around the table and out of Princess Whitelaw's line of sight. "It matters not. Still, it will take us some time for us to reach Vulcan, even with our current speed." Jamesina felt fingers in his hair, and furiously tried to jerk his head away. He cried out when Nero tightened his grip. "Sit still, James, or I'll change my mind."
The Princess obligingly halted his movements. He clenched his jaw tightly enough for his molars to hurt when Nero's head swam into view.
"You know very well I am from the future. And that Vulcans live longer than you humans. Maybe it was your absence that did it. But when Spock was tasked with saving my planet...he failed."
Nero abruptly went, pushing away from the table. The water sloshed around his feet as he walked away and flicked a switch angrily. The image of a beautiful woman, heavy with child flickered into life in front of the Princess' eyes. At the same time, music blared into life.
The Romulan, fingers clenched around the edges of the metal surface, anguish and heartbreak plain on his tattooed face and the glittering tears in his black eyes.
"So much for my happy ending! Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh...
"Let's talk this over, it's not like you're dead (yet). It was something he did, though save my planet he'd said. I was left hanging, o'er a city so dead; held up so high, on such a faraway ship (faraway ship).
"He was all the things I thought I knew, and I thought he'd succeed –"
Again Nero turned away, this time clutching his head between his two hands, fingertips digging into the skin behind his ears.
"He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her; and all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending. Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh. So much for my happy ending. Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh..."
With his captor looking in the other direction, Princess Whitelaw tested his bonds, hoping that the music would mask any rattling. He started to feel the strain in his shoulders, when Nero turned around, finger pointed dramatically.
"You've got your dumb 'Fleet, I know what they say. They tell you I'm difficult, but so are they. But they don't know he, let all my people die. All the things you hide from me, I'll eventually get that code.
"He was all the things I thought I knew, and I thought he'd succeed –
"He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her; and all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending.
"It's nice to know that Spock'll be there, as I vaporise his planet, then I know I'm not the only one. It's nice to know he had it all, and'll have to watch his planet fall – now gimme those codes, and we'll be done."
Almost there, thought Jamesina. His right hand would soon be free.
"He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her. And all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending. He was everything, everything that was needed. He was meant to save my wife, but I lost her. And all the memories, so close to me, can't fade away... All this time I have been waiting, so much for my happy ending. Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh. So much for my happy ending.
"Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh..."
Just as his fingers slipped free of the shackle, the music stopped. More importantly, however, Nero's hand came down on the offending wrist. He leaned over so his face loomed over the Princess'.
"Slippery little thing, aren't you?" His fingers tightened, causing the carpals of Princess Whitelaw's right hand to grind together. It hurt like the bloody hellfires. He merely grinned at Jamesina's grimace of pain. "What, Ayel?"
The Princess hadn't noticed the other Romulan standing at a respectful distance away. His features were more angular than Nero's, and the way he carried himself showed that he was most likely the second-in-command on the Narada.
"Prod Nero, we will arrive at Vulcan in exactly 3.6 hours."
The only acknowledgement Nero gave to that was the widening of his grin. "So are you going to cooperate, James?"
He pressed his lips together tightly. What he could he say? He didn't even actually know the codes Nero was asking for.
Nero raised an eyebrow. "James?"
The Princess barely refrained from saying, 'My name is Jamesina.' Barely.
Nero straightened, and re-cuffed his wrist. The warm metal bit into the sensitive skin there, and Jamesina couldn't help but hiss.
"Well, then." He looked at Ayel. "Bring the Centaurion Slugs."
OoOoOoOoOo
"Mr. Scott, report."
"We were very lucky, Cap'n. Ah managed to get th' warp drive back online, even gave it a wee boost wi' th' help o' young Mr. Chekov here, but ah'm not a miracle worker. Th' Silver Lady needs serious repairs – there's no way we can go against tha' – tha' – Squid Ship an' come out alive." The Chief Engineer's voice dropped. "Ah'm sorry ta say, laddie, even though we can prob'ly get ta Vulcan in time, we cannae stop Nero."
"Very well. Set a course for the Laurentian system, full speed."
Spock almost didn't notice Nyota follow him into the turbolift, he was that out of it. As soon as the doors soundlessly shut behind them, she stopped it. She stood with the controls at her back, presumably so he wouldn't be able to get at them. The Vulcan briefly thought that this was illogical, seeing as his superior strength (regardless of whether or not he was going to use it) would mean that she would not prove much of a barrier.
Her eyes were sad. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry."
"What incident do you feel responsible for, Nyota?"
Nyota's eyes flashed. "Don't be obtuse, Spock. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
He stared straight ahead, avoiding her glare. "The Princess made his choice."
"You can't possibly pretend that you don't feel responsible. Not to me. I know you, Spock. Why else would you offer yourself up to save the ship?"
In spite of himself, Spock felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. "That is the Captain's influence."
Uhura's long ponytail swished to and fro as she shook her head. "But Kirk wouldn't be running to the rest of the fleet."
He clasped his hands at the small of his back. "What would you have me do, Nyota?" His voice was low, but still free of emotion. He was not that compromised. (Not yet.) "I am not Jim. He is not here."
"He wouldn't leave Jamesina to get killed by Nero! You said it yourself – he isn't from here. How long do you think it's gonna take for him to figure that out? How long do you think the Princess will survive when Nero arrives at Vulcan with no way to get past the defence grids?"
Spock closed his eyes. His lips barely moved when he finally replied, but Nyota had been his best student. She heard every word.
"If I go after the Princess then I will have to defer to Starfleet Regulation six-one-nine."
Uhura took two steps forward, closer to her friend. She wanted to make sure. "Because of the threat to your people...or because of him?"
She almost thought he would answer. Instead he reopened his eyes, neatly stepped around her and restarted the turbolift. Within a second they had reached the appropriate deck and he stalked out, not looking back.
This was all the confirmation Uhura needed. She ran after him, because although the Enterprise was still largely empty – only a few of the evacuating shuttles had been recovered so far – it would not do to shout out her conclusion for everyone to hear; especially when dealing with a Vulcan like Spock.
"You're in love with him." Her voice was quiet, assured.
She only knew that he heard her because his steps faltered slightly. That was enough to show her how affected he really was – no one who was so in control of himself would have stumbled.
Still he kept walking, kept ignoring her. His long strides had her half-jogging to keep up, until they finally reached the observation deck. Spock seemed surprised that they had ended up there, showing how distracted he'd been. Nyota merely increased the lights and closed the doors. As she did so, music filtered in through the speakers on the deck.
Spock's reaction to this was so square his shoulders and stare out at the stars and planets streaking past.
The Lieutenant's voice was soft and sweet.
"Your heart is broken, to your surprise. You're sick of thinking, of blue eyes. So tired of living; misunderstood. Think hard Vulcan, I think you should.
"Come, sorrow is so peculiar. It comes in a day, then it'll never leave you. You meditate, wonder if it will fix you. Then wonder why sorrow has never left you –
"I'm talkin' 'bout blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter, blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter; so blind, so blind, what's the matter, matter – blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter with you?"
She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, trying to gauge his mood. His face was more unreadable than it usually was, and he neither welcomed nor rejected her touch.
"Ohh, you'll wind up broken, at the end of the round. Won't find your spirit, in a lost and found. Oh, I've been watching, how you behave. Not much like a Captain – more like a Terran. Come, sorrow is so peculiar. It comes in a day, then it'll never leave you. You meditate, wonder if it will fix you. Then wonder why sorrow has never left you –
"I'm talkin' 'bout blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter, blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter; so blind, so blind, what's the matter, matter – blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter with...
"Blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter, blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter, matter; so blind, so blind, what's the matter, matter – blue eyes, blue eyes, what's the matter with you?"
Her fingers tightened their grip, and his eyes closed. Finally, a reaction!
"What's the matter with you?"
The music dwindled, only the piano and guitar heard. Spock drew in a shuddering breath.
"What's the matter with you?" Nyota whispered.
OoOoOoOoOo
Now, Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy was not a tactician (he was a doctor, dammit), despite the fact that he was Jim's go-to guy when it came to advice, right after Spock. Still, he had more than enough common sense to accede that the best option that the Enterprise had with its hull and shield capability damaged and its weaponry outmatched was to get the message out to Starfleet and attack in bulk. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.
Which was why he was more than confused when Spock, who was a genius (or had been, anyway), ordered that they pursue the Narada to Vulcan.
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"I welcome it."
"Do you?" Bones asked sarcastically. He didn't wait for an answer. "Okay. Are you out of your Vulcan mind?"
"Hardly, Leonard."
He hated it when the hobgoblin used his first name, mostly because he used it without a shred of irony. It was meant as a sign of respect for the human need for informality (or, at least, Jim Kirk's need for informality), though any outsider would immediately deduce that respect was not present in their relationship.
Still, it was better than 'Len'. One of his ex-wife's friends had tried to call him that. Luckily modern day hypos left no mark, and no one had remembered him jabbing it into the idiot's neck. Sure, he'd tried to blame McCoy for his two-week bout of the runs, but how could he prove it?
"Then care to explain why we've performed an about turn to certain death?"
He was sure that if Jim were here he'd have told him that he was being melodramatic.
Spock seemed to pick up on his thoughts – probably some Vulcan voodoo. "Were Jim here, we would be doing the same thing, Leonard, and you would not doubt him."
Bones made a frustrated sound. "That's not the point, man. You saw what that ship did to us!"
"I do concede that the Narada technologically outmatches any Federation vessel. However, Mr. Scott has enhanced the warp yield –"
"Oh, so we can outrun them, but we can't outgun them." He rolled his eyes. "That's real comforting."
If he'd been talking to a human, then they would have been annoyed, or at least looked impatient. All this damned Vulcan did was look at him with that maddeningly neutral expression he always had. "I still do not see how you managed to infer that my cognitive functions are in any way damaged."
His mouth twisted. In fact, he'd have to admit that Spock looked, well, calmer, saner even, than he had previously. Which was odd, because he had fewer emotions than a robot.
"Not ten minutes ago you said the logical thing to do was to regroup. Now we're on an illogical suicide mission. You tell me that's your usual modus operandi."
"I will admit to be additionally motivated, yes."
Bones glared at him suspiciously. "And what by? This isn't about your planet, I can tell."
He inclined his head slightly. A human might have nodded. "You recall that the Princess has been taken."
He did. He could clearly see him, younger than Jim – the Jim of this dimension – had been when they'd first met, looking terrified out of his wits and utterly, utterly lost. It was a blow to lose him, but he would have thought that Spock had written the Princess off as a victim of war, or at least a hostage.
"A rescue mission?" asked Bones incredulously. "What happened to all that 'needs of the many' bullshit?"
"I believe that the Princess is the key to getting our Captain back."
The doctor sagged, the wind having been knocked out of his sails. He hadn't considered that. "But we'll still be outmatched. Nero'll butcher us before we can beam Jim out – if we can beam him out."
"Mr. Scott has informed me of a prototype weapon he and the Captain were working on. I have the remaining engineering and science crew working on it as we speak. I was on my way to join them."
Bones noticed the unheard "before you accosted me like the irrational human you are".
"What weapon is this?" He wanted to be prepared for whatever carnage it would cause to better anticipate what injuries would result. And carnage was a polite word for what any brainchild of Jim and Scotty could produce.
"It is not unlike the electromagnetic pulse weaponry used on pre-warp Earth. The projectile Mr. Scott and Jim have designed is intended to focus the pulse in one direction. If we can knock out the electronics on the Narada, then it may prove sufficient for us to retrieve the Princess and disable the ship. If you will excuse me, Leonard."
He scowled at the retreating back. Pointy-eared, green-blooded bastard.
OoOoOoOoOo
"Ayel!"
Not a one of the crew of the Narada envied the second-in-command. Prod Nero had been in a foul mood ever since the interrogation of the Captain of the Enterprise – or the human they'd thought was Captain Kirk – alternatively furious and tickled pink.
Let's just ignore the fact that Romulans do not have red blood – rather, theirs is yellow – and therefore cannot be pink. Possibly unless poisoned. But I digress.
"Sir?"
"Where's the prisoner?" Nero spat. Ah, so he was angry.
"In the brig, sir."
"Bring him."
"Sir." Ayel did not bother questioning this order. Never mind that he'd been ferrying the 'Princess' to and fro for the past hour. The Captain was in a worse state than he'd been when they'd first come through the black hole. At least then he'd listened to reason.
Princess Jamesina Whitelaw – certainly not Captain James Tiberius Kirk – sat huddled at the corner farthest from the laser gridded entrance. There was grease and dirt on his face, save for where tears had run down his cheeks. His hair stood in uneven spikes slicked up by sweat. His arms were locked around his knees, giving anyone who looked a clear view of his wrists, which were bruised and chafed bloody. His blue eyes were dull, lifeless. Dead.
If he had seen this human twenty-five standard years ago, then he would have pitied him. Perhaps even given some sort of medical aid, with the excuse of not wanting the wounds to fester. But twenty-five years ago, his family had been alive. Pity was not an emotion he partook of now.
His mother had been so proud of him, choosing honest labour. Especially after they'd lost his oldest brother Sirol to Orion smugglers – such an ironic fate, considering Rihannsu origins. And his bondmate, Maiek, beautiful, dark haired Maiek. He was supposed to have returned to their home, twenty-five years ago. Unfortunately, they had not yet fulfilled their quota. Prod Nero had instructed that they stay one more week.
Maiek had smiled. He'd understood. "How could I be angry with you, Ayel?" he'd asked. "Your work makes you happy."
Quite frankly, Ayel would have rather been at home with his bondmate than work. He did not say so, however, and instead was grateful that being second-in-command gave him such perks as personal transmissions.
"Little Isha would like to know if you like our present." Maiek had held up their adopted daughter, who waved excitedly at her father.
"I love it," he'd said, fingering the cuff. It had both Maiek' and Isha's names engraved into the square of copper set into the leather.
It was then that the transmission had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
Ayel had heard an alarm blaring in the distance, and everything was shaking. Isha had been crying, while Maiek tried in vain to calm her down.
"What's happening?" Ayel had demanded, gripping the console tightly.
"That's the – Ayel, we must evacuate!"
"Why?"
"I do not know. Come, Isha. Hush now, cease your crying." He'd cuddled her to his chest, though his worried eyes held Ayel's.
"Be safe, Maiek," Ayel had said.
A brave smile. "I-jol au."
The transmission had ended then. Later they'd found out that Romulus had sent a distress signal, because of the star gone supernova. And although they'd raced back to their planet, they had not arrived in time. Romulus – his family, his mother, Isha, Maiek – had been destroyed.
A sniffle brought Ayel back to the present, and he closed his eyes. He could feel the weight of the cuff under his tunic, though he never looked at it. The pain had never dulled over time – if anything it grew stronger. He, like the others on the Narada, kept his head shaved in mourning. The markings on his face served as a reminder of what he'd lost. What they'd all lost.
He deactivated the lasers and hauled the Princess to his feet. He was uncaring of the hiss of pain when he cuffed his hands behind his back, uncaring of the tears that had started again as he shoved the human towards the door, presumably to more gratuitous torture.
No, he no longer felt pity. That part of him had died, along with his daughter and his bondmate.
I-jol au.
OoOoOoOoOo
In point of fact, there was – luckily for the Princess – no more torture. All Nero did when the human was forced to his knees before him was survey him wordlessly. Ayel stood just behind Princess Whitelaw, with a hand on his neck, ready to snap his spine should it be asked of him.
"How does it feel, Jamesina," asked Nero, "to sacrifice yourself for the Vulcan you love, and then find out he doesn't care enough about you to save you?"
Since this was a rhetorical question – and since they'd injected him with a serum that killed off the Centaurion slug or whatever it was that made him tell the truth – Jamesina did not answer. It did not, however, lessen the hurt he felt. Not the physical hurt, even if his wrists had started bleeding again. No, the mental hurt.
As selfish as it sounded, it (censored) hurt that Spock wasn't there.
Nero sighed. "I'm not sure whether I should kill you or not."
Ayel's fingers tightened slightly in preparation.
"After all, you've delayed my revenge. Doubtless Spock has already scuttled back to his Starfleet, coward that he is. I could always use you as bait, but if Spock doesn't want you I don't see why the Federation would. Decisions, decisions..."
"Prod Nero!"
The Romulan looked up at the newcomer. "What is it, Delon?"
"Sir, a Federation ship approaches. It is the Enterprise!"
Nero laughed. "So! That Vulcan does have feelings, the fool. This will be interesting. Prepare to fire torpedoes," he said, dismissing Delon with a wave of his hand.
Princess Whitelaw desperately tried not to show any reaction, although he was wondering what in the Hell Spock was thinking.
"Ayel, come! Bring His Highness to the bridge. This will be most entertaining."
On the viewscreen, the Enterprise looked a state. What did Spock hope to achieve by coming after him? He was insane!
This hypothesis was further proved when they fired. None of the crew of the Narada had expected it, and so they didn't manage to destroy the – honestly – tiny projectile. The larboard deflector shields hadn't yet come back online – they had to be powered down for warp travel – and so whatever it was that had been shot at them connected.
The drone that ran through the length of the Narada abruptly decreased, as if –
"Sir, our weapons system and port engines are offline!"
"Shields are down!" another Romulan shouted.
Nero slammed his fist into the arm of his chair. "Get them back on!"
A tiny flame of hope flared into life in Princess Whitelaw's soul.
"They're hailing us!"
The Captain gave a nod, sitting forward. Jamesina turned his head (aware of the fingers still wrapped around the back of his neck) in time to see Spock's face fill the screen. His heart leapt to his throat.
"Nero. Surrender your vessel and allow us to take you into custody."
"Spock, what a surprise. Why have you decided to return?"
The Vulcan ignored the question. "Will you come quietly?"
"Rhifv Areinnye daeohre," spat Nero, and all could see the veins in his forehead pulse.
"Two more impacts and most of the electronics on the Narada will be disabled – life support included. Surrender now, Nero, and spare the lives of your crew."
"And what of your precious Princess? That's why you're here, isn't it?"
"We will beam him out. Whether or not you cooperate."
"Oh, I most definitely won't cooperate, Spock. But you won't be able to beam your whore out. Not with the jamming signal we have." His grin was feral as he rose slowly to his feet. "Especially not if I kill him first."
Ayel, anticipating his commanding officer's actions, hauled the Princess to his feet with only one hand. He let go just in time for Jamesina to fall with the force of Nero's backhanded blow.
"Do you know he loves you, Spock?"
Even the Vulcan couldn't mask the heartbreak that crossed his face for a split second.
"Activate the jamming signal!" Nero shouted.
As the high energy pulse generator was lowered and activated, bass guitar blared within the Narada and through to the Enterprise.
"Let the log show," sang Nero. "Let the log show. Let the log show.
"The way that you dance, the way that you move, the way that you came from across vacuum – you carry phaser rifles, and you got your Starfleet; you Vulcans are the reason my planet's all dead. Now I got your girlfriend, I got him in chains. I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face."
Spock was not to be outdone. "I got EMP torpedoes, but we won't fire yet. I got a phaser neatly, tucked inside in my waist."
"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"
"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl –"
"He says aha, aha, but the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. He says –"
"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl."
Nero grabbed Princess Whitelaw by the neck of his dress, the material threatening to rip, and held him up, bruised and bloody, so that Spock could clearly see him.
"Now he's threatening me, and my beautiful ship. He can't tell I'm serious; maybe it's the tattoos. But he can't just back up, so what does he do – he just stays posted up, in his small tiny ship. I got squiggly lines tattooed on my head. I don't know why some people call me Eric Bana.
"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"
"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl –"
"He says aha, aha, but the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. He says –"
"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl.
"He, he, he don't wanna talk about it, he, he, he wants to fight about, me, me, I don't wanna fight about it, I just want the Princess, I, am merely following protocol. Put him in a shuttle, or else I will beam on myself. The one that you have kidnapped, is not the one you think he is." Spock looked as agitated as only a Vulcan could when he noticed the Princess' eyes slide in and out of focus.
Nero scoffed and shook Jamesina roughly. "I know that you idiot, who says I can't keep him? The face on the viewscreen, looks like the Vulcan I stranded, but the log keeps showing – I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face. I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face.
"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"
"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl –"
"And the log keeps showing, the same old 'cast. The Vulcan's mean mugging on me all night long, he says –"
"Aha, aha, keep your hands of my girl, keep your hands off my girl."
"You carry phaser rifles, and you got your Starfleet; you Vulcans are the reason my planet's all dead. Now I got your girlfriend, I got him in chains. I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face.
"I got bad ass tattoos on my neck and my face."
OoOoOoOoOo
"Mr. Sulu, when I give you the order, you are to fire on the Narada, regardless of whether the Princess or I are aboard. That is an order."
The helmsman made a face, wondering what it was with the Enterprise captains and their self-sacrificing attitude. He duly acknowledged the command, though, and exchanged a worried look with Chekov.
"Zhe Keptin's plan will work, da?"
He was about to answer, when Lieutenant Dalton – Spock's replacement – spoke up: "Captain Spock has beamed off the Enterprise."
Sulu gripped Chekov's hand. "I hope so, Pasha."
OoOoOoOoOo
A photon torpedo had taken care of the drill, which had been emitting the jamming signal. Still, Spock did not want to run the risk of something going wrong by beaming the Princess from the Narada. There would be complications of Nero tried to interfere with the process – which he would most certainly would do. So Spock would beam aboard. Alone.
Unfortunately, he was not beamed onto the bridge of what Scotty referred to as the 'Squid Ship'. And even more unfortunately, he was surrounded by Romulans who proceeded to fire at him.
Most unfortunately of all, one of them managed to warn Nero.
So, even though Spock managed to clear the area and, ahem, procure directions to the bridge, Nero was already waiting.
Spock's eyes were not on him.
Princess Whitelaw was now gagged in addition to being bound, and the uniform he was wearing was now torn at the neck. He was just barely standing of his own power; Spock could see his knees shaking even from where he stood. There were more bruises on his face, most noticeably around his left eye, and blood seeping into the dirty gag. Presumably Nero had taken out his anger on the defenceless Princess when he saw his ship and his drill rendered impotent.
If Nero was angry now, his wide smile gave no indication. The slight twitch, however, made it clear that he was not in full possession of his mental faculties. But that was a fact they'd been aware of since Nero had first made contact two years ago.
"Spock, so nice of you to join us."
At the mention of the Vulcan's name, Jamesina looked up. He could see the worry in Spock's brown eyes. Something sparked in his own – they were in no way as lively as they had been before, but they had lost their dull blue sheen.
Inexplicably, as he stared into Spock's eyes, he blocked out whatever Nero was saying. In his head thundered the voice of Bones – his Bones, the one from home.
"I don't know how you get into these fights, Jim. If your parents ever found out –"
"They only will if you tell them, Bones. I mean, those kids wouldn't dare complain to the King and Queen that their son beat the living shit out of them."
"Where do you learn that language?" A pause. "Don't answer that. Besides, this time you almost got the living shit kicked out of you."
Princess Whitelaw hissed as the healer applied a stinging salve. "They fought dirty."
"Kid, if you want to fight with the village ruffians, you gotta learn to fight dirty."
He perked up. "Will you teach me?"
"I'm a healer, dammit, not a trainer."
"Aw, c'mon Bones!" He batted his eyelashes. "Please, please, please?"
"...fine. But only after you heal properly! And no fights for a month!"
Princess Whitelaw smiled nastily, though the action was rather lost on all present due to the presence of the gag. He had a plan. It was crazy and inelegant and semi-unlikely to succeed. But how would he get Spock in on it?
While Jamesina was undergoing this dilemma, Spock found that he could not tear his gaze away from the human, although he was conversing with Nero. He was glad that Nyota had knocked sense into him – though not literally, that would likely have been unpleasant. He would not have been able to 'live with himself' – to borrow a human saying – if he had continued on to the Laurentian System and not seen those blue eyes ever again.
"It's very simple, Spock. The Princess, for the codes."
"Nero, surrender yourself, your crew and your vessel. No terms, no deals."
He narrowed his eyes. "Do you expect me to believe you do not feel for this Earthling? Not after that touching display earlier."
"Your ship has been disabled –"
"We can get it back running. I will not have my vengeance denied, Spock. Either you take my deal, or I kill the Princess. Right here, right now."
For some reason, Nero had ordered the bridge cleared of all personnel except himself and Ayel – and the Princess, but that goes without saying. This was advantageous to Spock, seeing as it meant there were only two hostiles he had to take out. The only problem was that if he took out Ayel first, Nero would have plenty of time to kill Jamesina. He didn't have a clear shot of the Romulan captain.
Then he heard in his head, as clear as purified dihydrogen monoxide, Princess Whitelaw's voice.
I'll take Nero. You get the other one.
There was no doubt that it was him, from the determined look in his eyes. Spock had not known humans to have particularly high psi-ratings, but perhaps the Princess was unique in that respect. Since the Vulcan did not know whether this odd connection worked both ways, he said, "Yes."
This rather interrupted Nero, who'd been in mid-tirade. "What?" he demanded. Yes was hardly a response to what he'd been saying. He hadn't even asked a question.
Because Nero was distracted, and because he honestly hadn't been expecting it, Princess Whitelaw was able to swing his head backwards. The back of his head connected with Nero's nose with a satisfying crunch.
At the same time, a single phaser beam thudded into Ayel's chest. In another reality, he would die in a mining accident. In yet another, his thirst for revenge on the Orion smugglers that took his brother would estrange him from his bondmate and their daughter, leading to an untimely death involving treachery and an airlock. In a third, he would live a long and full life alongside Maiek.
However, in this reality, he fell soundlessly onto the deck of the Narada. The cuff he wore would never feel the warmth of skin again.
Nero howled in pain, clutching at his broken nose. Jamesina paid him no heed, and instead ran towards Spock. The Vulcan did not bother with the Princess' bonds; he picked him up, bridal style, and ran towards the shuttle bay.
Nevertheless, they were not in the clear. There were still Romulans after them, armed Romulans. They – or, rather, Spock – ducked into an empty hallway and set Princess Whitelaw on his feet. He removed the gag, and sliced through the cuffs with his phaser.
"Can you walk? I cannot return fire with my hands unavailable."
Jamesina nodded. He might have attempted to say something, but they both heard shouts coming towards them. Spock grabbed the Princess' hand (they both felt something at the contact) and hurriedly led him on.
The nearest shuttle had the Standard letters NRW stamped neatly in black along its sides, with Joanna under it in smaller font. Odd, seeing as they were on a Romulan vessel. Neither Spock nor Jamesina were in any position to ponder this, however – not that the Princess would have thought it out of the ordinary, being a foreigner to this universe –, so I'll just call it digression.
Spock tried to access the terminal beside the shuttle, so as to open the doors. Alas, it seemed that the power to the shuttle bay had also been shut down in one of the two EMP blasts the Narada had sustained. Princess Whitelaw crouched behind the terminal, as it offered some cover from the weapon fire of the Romulans. After awhile, Spock joined him, although the Vulcan periodically shot back at their enemies to keep them at bay.
Jamesina finally caught his breath, wondering how his companion had managed to do all he had and still look as unruffled as he had when they'd first met on the Enterprise. This was unimportant. They were both going to die here. Why had –
"Why did you come for me?" He hadn't meant to sound so accusatory, but the words were already out of his mouth.
Spock didn't answer at first. Then again, he'd just neatly ducked and fired his phaser, causing the offending Romulan to fall to the ground, dropping her type-3 disruptor pistol. When he turned to the Princess, his customary dispassionate expression was not present. Jamesina felt the air get stuck in his throat as his nerves jangled at the connection sang.
The Vulcan stroked his face lightly, and he leaned into the touch, though not enough to break eye contact.
"I love you."
At this point it felt like the world had paused for Princess Whitelaw. All he could feel was Spock's warm fingers on his face, all he could see were those brown eyes, every sense taken up by the Vulcan whom he loved – and who loved him. It didn't matter that Jamesina was injured and aching. It didn't matter that there were disruptors being fired at them, the green bursts connecting with the console they hid behind and the shuttle behind them. It didn't matter that Nero was on the other side of the shuttle bay, urging his crew on, shouting at them to "Fire everything!"
It didn't matter.
So Princess Whitelaw kissed him.
It wasn't his first kiss. For someone who snuck out of the castle to engage in fisticuffs, sneaking out for secret assignations and moonlight rendezvous were hardly difficult. It was his first kiss with a Vulcan, yes, and his first kiss with Spock, but this in and of itself was nothing too special.
What was special was that it was true love's first kiss. And, that, as I'm sure you are all quite aware of, is very special indeed.
It rather slipped the Princess' mind, though – we can excuse him, poor dear, seeing as he's been through a stressful day –, so he was surprised when their connection flared and Spock started glowing. The closest thing that came to describing this radiance was the Boomerang Nebula, the coldest place known to the universe. The air around the Vulcan was a shimmering blue – in fact, as blue as the Princess' irises – and although not the same temperature of the planetary nebula I just compared it to (which was -272 Celsius), it was colder than the air in the ship, and stung Princess Whitelaw's already sensitive skin.
The Romulans were even more surprised at the sight than Jamesina. Some ran away, some shielded their faces, and all of them stopped shooting. Even Nero stood open-mouthed.
The figure that emerged from the now-fading brightness was not Spock. Not exactly.
Gone were the pointed ears, and the meticulously cut hair and the slanted eyebrows. He no longer looked as alien as he had before – in fact, he looked human. The constant was the eyes; they were exactly the same, the same beautiful brown. The overall effect added rather than took away from the man's presence. In spite of everything, though, the connection remained there. So was he Spock, somehow?
"Who are you?" Princess Whitelaw breathed, stunned.
"I am Spock. Rather, Prince Zachycakes Spock Quinto. As a child I was cursed to remain in the body of the warrior Spock, until I found true love. Until I found you."
Jamesina blushed, and would have replied, had a disruptor blast not crackled into the shuttle hull. The both of them ducked automatically.
"I'll kill you both! If I cannot make you suffer like I have, Spock, then at least I will have your life and your whore's!"
The Prince grabbed both of Jamesina's hands – both gasped – and said, "Do you trust me, Princess?"
"Yes." There was no hesitation. It hadn't even occurred to the Princess to think otherwise.
Prince Zachycakes stood and faced their aggressors. Jamesina wanted to yank him back behind cover, but he remembered what had been asked of him. Instead he sent all the love and worry he had – which was substantial – through the connection, and raised his head far enough over the console so that he could see.
The Prince raised his hands to his face, touching his first and middle fingers of both hands to his temples. As soon as he did, multicoloured beams of light were emitted from his eyebrows. There was a loud roaring sound that seemed to fill the world, but the screams of the Romulans could still be heard, and Jamesina clapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block them out.
Perhaps it was the blood loss. Perhaps it was the mental trauma he'd been dealt. Perhaps it was a combination of these things and more.
Whatever it was, it was enough to have Princess Whitelaw fall unconscious.
OoOoOoOoOo
Everyone on the bridge was on edge. Bones would have still been pacing, had it not been for Uhura's quelling look at him on his third round. Chekov was biting his lip raw, and Sulu was nervously tapping the arm of the Captain's chair. They all started when Spock's voice – or what seemed like Spock's voice, if it had been rich with emotion – came through.
"Spock to the Enterprise."
"Yes, sir?"
"Mr. Sulu. Fire all EMP torpedoes."
"But –" The Vulcan hadn't called for a beam out, and there were no readings of any shuttles leaving or having left the Narada, which meant that he and the Princess were still onboard.
"Fire all EMP torpedoes, Mr. Sulu!"
Hikaru set his jaw. "Yes, sir." He met the eyes of Chekov, and then the tactical officer's. "Do it."
OoOoOoOoOo
Unbetaed, but I'm sure I caught *most* of the spelling/grammar errors.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I don't own Princess Whitelaw, either the real one (rawr) or the fictional one of the children's book series (that belongs to natatas), but I do own this particular aspect of him. I don't own King Natatas and Queen Lamama, nor do I own Lady Gaga. I don't own the title of this story, but I did come up with the plot by myself. I don't own the songs mentioned in this story, though I do own the time used to butcher them. Are you getting a sense of what I do and do not own yet?
Act II. Don't be shy to review. Seriously.
Anila.