A/N: Chapter 7! This chapter was tricky, but also longer than the last one, so I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, Spock, Kirk, Uhura, anyone, or anything related to it. I borrowed dialogue from the movie's "Kirk Cheated" scene.
It was Nyota who helped him find the injected code. After automatically reverse-engineering the binary and running several scans and differencing algorithms on the generated code, to no effect, Spock was attempting to determine the most efficient algorithm to use to search the doctored program manually when she arrived in his quarters with an afternoon tea prepared. He had not asked for it, and was especially grateful for her thoughtfulness. The prospect of a manually-directed code search was mentally straining. They had not discussed his efforts, but she, like everyone involved (and most who were not, at this point, several hours later; news spread at the Academy at a surprisingly rapid rate, given the limitations of the speed of sound), knew that Kirk had not passed the Kobayashi Maru by any honest mechanism. She therefore intuited his purpose fairly quickly.
She was not a computing scientist and had little formal training, but, like all cadets, had passed the introductory programming course. Unlike many, she had done so with remarkably high marks. She set the tea to his side, leaned against his back, hands resting gently on his shoulders, and followed his gaze to the console in his quarters. He had downloaded the data from the control room PADDs. Despite the reduction in mobility this entailed, he often found that working at the larger screen was beneficial to his efficiency.
"No luck yet?"
"If by your query you are inquiring as to whether I have located the mechanism by which Cadet Kirk reprogrammed the system, the answer is no."
He sensed that she was not really looking at the monitor, now, more at the top of his head. While they were clearly in violation of regulations, it was still inappropriate for a cadet to have access to exam source code, and she usually avoided inspecting any such material when she came into contact with it in his quarters. He had not asked her about this behavior, but it was sufficiently marked that he had not had to. He appreciated her decorum.
"I'm surprised it's so hard to find."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, it's pretty clear that he cheated, right? It's not like he's trying to hide it." He, too, looked away from the screen, glancing up to her face as she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly. "I would have expected him to sign it." She smiled, joking to no one in particular. "Have you done a find-all on 'Captain Kirk'?"
And there it was. The decompiled binary did not include the comments on the injected source, but it did include error logging code, which the cadet had evidently predicted (had he been in a less contrary mood, Spock might have been impressed). It had not been invoked during the course of the simulation, but it was still present--and there, in the message to the console, someone had written "This 100-line section of code is written inefficiently. Love, Captain Kirk."
Human jokes were among the most difficult aspect of their culture to understand. The cadet's effort at humor, however, made it very easy to compile the dossier for the following day's disciplinary hearing. Spock finished sufficiently early that he had some time to spend with Nyota.
They only discussed Kirk briefly as they sat on the couch together after a simple but comforting evening meal.
The announcement for the hearing had been sent a mere half-hour after Admiral Barnett had received his message outlining the details of the Cadet's offense.
"So this all-Academy meeting is on the subject of our favorite test-taker, I'm assuming."
If she avoided phrasing the query as a proper question, he reasoned, it was appropriate to respond; she was not abusing his favoritism by making conversation. "Yes."
"You want to get him expelled."
This was not true. Spock did not want any Cadet who entered the academy to be forced to leave for any reason. But it was undeniable that not all who entered were of the correct disposition for a productive career in the fleet. Some could be accomodated with lower-level security-related positions. Some could not. He maintained ambivalence on the subject of Kirk: his intelligence was manifest both in his records and his handling of the Kobayashi Maru. Cheating on it to the extent that he had required skill and creativity and intelligence.
It was this ambivalence that caused him to defer to regulation. In the event that an instructor had reason to believe an incident of academic dishonesty had taken place, the instructor was expected to both thoroughly investigate and report the incident. It was not his job as instructor to act as judge--he would likely have a say on the ultimate council decision--and thus he set aside his judgment on Kirk's fate and, quite simply, did his job.
His job was facilitated, however--and through the course of his afternoon he had found himself freely admitting it, mentally--by a largely illogically powerful dislike for the man himself.
He attempted to explain himself concisely. "Cadet Kirk has violated the rules governing student conduct at the Academy, which is particularly notable given his stated goals of achieving a commanding position on a starship. As an instructor, it is my duty to report this violation. I do not know that he will be expelled."
She looked uncomfortable. "We're also violating the rules governing conduct, aren't we?"
There was no easy answer to this question, though he sensed that it was rhetorical. His ability to recognize such questions was improving; he no longer tried to answer them all. Instead, he let out a breath and drew her towards him, running his fingers along her upper arm and pressing his lips against her temple. She closed her eyes at the touch and smiled, softly. Sadly.
They spoke no more of it that evening.
The following morning, Spock sat in a large lecture hall, surrounded by the faculty and current cadet class. Nyota was somewhere in the crowd, though he had not had the pleasure of locating her before sitting, with long-practiced immaculate posture, in the front third of the room. These meetings were rare, but were considered vital to the continued functioning of the community. Open resolution and public discipline in the case of dishonesty was critical to the maintenance of a fleet that had trust in the integrity of both its regulations and its command staff.
Cadet James T. Kirk stepped forward.
"Cadet Kirk. Evidence has been submitted to this council suggesting that you violated the ethical code of conduct pursuant to regulation 17.43 of the Starfleet Code. Is there anything you care to say before we begin, sir?"
Admiral Barnett's phrasing was lifted directly from protocol. The accused rarely spoke at this moment, but the defendant's right to defend oneself was always recognized explicitly. Most unethical cadets considered it wise to determine what, exactly, they had been accused of before offering an opinion on their relative guilt.
James T. Kirk was not like most unethical cadets.
"Yes. I believe I have the right to face my accuser directly."
Spock did not need to be summoned by the Admiral; he had mentally prepared for this eventuality. He stood, smoothed the inevitable but unfortunate creases from his uniform jacket, and evenly descended the stairs. At the podium, he waited for the Admiral to acknowledge him, following a largely unnecessary introduction, in his view (his successes post-graduation were not relevant to his testimony, and served only to distract from its content), before turning to the cadet. He projected his voice, practiced and clear, for the benefit of the audience.
"Cadet Kirk. You somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine in the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test."
It was a small point against his pride that he still had not determined how, exactly, Kirk had corrupted the programming, given the physical security of the examination room. It was not relevant to this hearing.
Kirk demonstrated his customary lack of respect to his superiors. "Your point being?"
The Admiral interjected. "In academic vernacular, you cheated."
"Let me ask you something I think we all know the answer to. The test itself is a cheat, isn't it? You programmed it to be unwinnable."
Ah. Suddenly the purpose of this discussion became clear to Spock, in a way that it had not been before. He had assumed that Kirk had cheated on the exam because he wished to impress his friends, his fellow classmates, with his bravado and cleverness. This explanation had seemed too simple, because although Kirk's faults were many, they did not appear to include the type of simple stupidity such a motivation would require, but it was the best at which he could arrive without additional information.
Here it was, instead. The cadet was, in a human's words, "making a point."
It seemed to Spock a peculiar argument on which to risk one's academic and military career.
"Your argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario."
"I don't believe in no-win scenarios."
These hearings rarely turned into debates on the finer points of commanding officer education. It was unfortunate, in some regards, that Kirk had so spectacularly called out the primary trick on which the Kobayashi Maru was predicated. While it was well-understood that everyone who attempted it failed, it was also quietly agreed-upon that everyone should try not to; the Academy maintained a polite fiction on the passability of the exam. Kirk had brought out a truth that everyone knew, but no one openly admitted.
At least the moment was a "teachable" one, even if doing so detracted very slightly from the subject of the discussion. There would be plenty of time to address repercussions for cheating.
"Then not only did you violate the rules, then you also failed to understand the principle lesson."
"Please, enlighten me."
Spock's vast knowledge of Starfleet military history, originally collected and mentally compiled as a hobby as a child and then formally studied upon his controversial decision to attend the Academy as a young adult, proved helpful, as it often did.
"You of all people should know, Cadet Kirk, a captain cannot cheat death."
"I, of all people." The Cadet looked away, in a manner that indicated that he knew which incident to which Spock was referring. It was for the benefit of their audience, and for the sake of clarity, always beneficial to the progress of a debate, that he continued, though he recognized, mentally, that the mentioning of family represented a rather sensitive argumentative approach.
"Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action, did he not?"
"I don't think that you like the fact that I beat your test."
The fact that the Cadet tried his self-control more than any human he had ever encountered, Nyota included, was unhelpful; he felt his voice raise very, very slightly, a gross public lapse in emotional willpower of which, if the room had contained any other Vulcans to observe it, his own people would have disapproved integrally.
"Furthermore, you have failed to divine the purpose of the test."
"Enlighten me again."
"The purpose is to experience fear. Fear in the face of certain death; to accept that fear, and to maintain control of oneself and one's crew. This is a quality expected in every Starfleet captain."
This statement represented a return to a well-practiced phrase and a tone he often used while teaching, and in repetition Spock regained his calm. There was no reason to lose his well-monitored temper over a man like James Kirk. Spock observed Kirk's pause in reaction to this point and sensed a potentially advantageous turn in the conversation.
This sense could never be tested, however; they were interrupted.
"Excuse me, sir."
Spock watched with interest as the courier handed the message to the Admiral, whose eyes flitted with almost imperceptible briefness to the Vulcan commander, the distinguished graduate, the rare, the implacable alien. Such an interruption was unprecedented, signifying, perhaps, a significant military event and likely a rapid deployment. Full-Academy meetings would not be interrupted for anything else.
Spock mentally switched his focus, immediately, completely, from the cadet to his right to his commanding officer.
"We've received a distress call from Vulcan."
What?
"With our primary fleet engaged in the Laurentian system, I hereby order all cadets to report to Hanger One immediately. Dismissed."
A/N: And next: awesome Enterprise action! Also, reviews are made of rainbows.