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'I do not remember any encounter with you before today,' I replied after a few minutes of contemplation.
'It's probably better that you don't,' the captain said dismissively. 'Let's just say I owe you and leave it at that.' He took a bite of his dinner and examined my face. He watched me as carefully as I watch those who guide my behavior.
I was confused. Why would Kirk bring up a prior meeting then dismiss it so easily? The incident must have had some importance to him if he believed he 'owed' me.
'I do not understand.' My curiousity was making me bolder than usual. But again, Kirk did not appear distressed by my impropriety.
However, his comfort level did not compel him to explain his statement. 'You may, in time. But for now, let's focus on the present.'
I agreed reluctantly, still rather intrigued by his hints concerning our previous encounter. But Kirk decided that now was the time to discuss our roles as Captain and First Officer. He outlined his basic ideas for crew organization, training exercises, and Starfleet Command's plans for us for the next three months.
I listened intently, offering a few comments, but mostly noting differences between his choices and what I would have expected Captain Pike's to be.
Kirk didn't comment on my silence, although he seemed to approve of my appetite. His eyes focused on each bite I took as he talked. As he watched me, his face mirrored the expression my father had when I had completed a task well. This puzzled me, as I did not know why my eating habits would concern him unless I was ill.
The captain continued updating me as we finished eating, then he asked me to join him in a walk around the ship. He told me that he wanted to understand this vessel from my point of view.
At that, my father's voice spoke in my mind, cautioning me. Conversations where I had to express opinions were the most risky for me. I could easily reveal my distasteful lack of concern for others without realizing I had done so.
However, given the situation, again I could not refuse. So I fell in step with the captain as he inspected the halls of his new ship.
As we walked, Kirk asked me about my decision to join Starfleet and my parents' reactions. These were standard questions that I was often asked. I answered them using the responses I had memorized early on in my career, the ones people expected to hear. I had formulated them to give the impression that I was an idealistic person with a supportive family.
The second part was not a falsehood. Both Sarek and my mother indicated that they believed I could succeed in my choice, even though Sarek would have preferred that I stayed on Vulcan.
To aid me in conversations, my father had indicated that a half-truth less likely to arouse suspicion than a complete lie. I found that information very useful. It allowed me hide my true nature under a mask provided by Surak.
But I quickly found that Kirk was not satified with the illusions that made me look like every other Vulcan. This became obvious when he asked me a question I did not expect.
'So, does the Fleet live up to your expectations?' The question was asked casually, as if he expected that it was posed to me often.
In reality, nobody had seen fit to ask my opinion of the hallowed institution.
So, before I replied, I stopped walking. I required time and concentration to think of an appropriate answer.
But Kirk would not allow me to correctly ponder my response. 'Ah ah, don't tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me the truth. I'm not going to report back to Starfleet Command. I just want to know...from which angle I should approach you.'
Something in me decided to trust this man. So I told him more of the truth than I would consider telling anyone other than my father. 'I found the Academy...chaotic. The cadets often preferred to socialize than study. I was often distracted by this, as my room was in the main hallway of the dormitory. This was not conducive my studies. I can only speculate how their socializing impacted their own progress.'
Kirk chuckled at this, but when I stopped, he probed further. 'Surely Starfleet isn't all bad.'
I shook my head in agreement. 'When I boarded the Enterprise, I found it much more acceptable than the Academy. Captain Pike did not allow the lapses in discipline I often would see in the Academy dormitories.'
Kirk led me into a turbolift as he commented, 'I can see how the dorms might disturb you, given your background. But the cadets were blowing off steam. They weren't trying to make your life miserable.'
'I was told this by the monitors. This 'blowing off steam' seemed an inefficient way to spend time that could be used more productively.'
'Humans need time to play. It makes us more efficient workers when we need to be.' Kirk patted my shoulder, ignoring the etiquette he was taught at the Academy. Vulcans are not to be touched, according to the professors. It upsets them.
For most Vulcans, this is indeed true.
His hand on my shoulder did not upset me. It intrigued me. Touch often implied familiarity or comfort with someone. This gave me reason to believe our prior acquaintance was not a simple 'passing in the night'. Something of substance and/or duration had happened when we met. I resolved to look further into the captain's service record when I returned to my cabin so I could find this event.
Kirk watched me as I pondered this. 'Relax. You're not doing anything wrong. Nor could you, unless you took out a phaser and shot me right now. I know you have to appear appropriate in front of the crew. But you don't have to try so hard when it's just us. I won't take offense.'
'Of what do you speak?' I asked, raising my eyebrow to hide my sudden concern behind an appearance of interest. Was my mimickry not good enough? Kirk seemed to be hinting that he could see through my facade.
'Being surrounded by emotional beings has to be exhausting. Your people tend to have problems figuring out the right thing to do or say around humans because you just aren't taught how to handle us.'
That statement allowed me to relax. The captain was expressing concern similiar to a one I had heard from Captain Pike. To a human, all Vulcans have difficulties with social interactions.
But I saw a crinkling around Kirk's eyes I didn't understand. He stared a little too long at me. From this, I deduced that he was not revealing all of his thoughts. I searched his face more thoroughly, but those small cues were the only hints of his mental state.
Before I could think of a way to make him reveal the information he was hiding, Kirk stopped at a recreation room. 'Would you join me for a game of chess?'
Intrigued by the idea of spending more time with this man, I agreed.
As it was rather late in the ship's cycle, the room was empty when we sat down in front of the three dimensional chess board.
It was apparent from the very beginning of our game that Kirk was a more than adequate player, although an unorthodox one.
When I commented on this, Kirk laughed. 'It's more fun if I just follow my instincts. Working from someone else's rules, in a game of chess or in life, makes it less worth doing.'
Suddenly, my mind stopped thinking about the game and started cautioning me once more. Again, I stared at him, trying to judge him and how much he knew about me. That statement had to be more than a simple philosophy. It sounded as if he was directing it toward me.
Kirk just smiled calmly, thwarting my attempts to discover what he meant through small cues of nervousness or unease. He had none.
If he did know about my condition, it did not cause him distress. Hence, I had to be wrong about his words. Even my father, an accomplished follower of Surak, showed signs of discomfort when I was near.
Kirk, however, gazed at me calmly as he asked, 'Do you remember Peter Finnegan?'
I blinked, unexpectedly startled by a fact I knew from the minute Kirk stepped aboard. Of course, Kirk had been in the Academy while I was there. I had seen in his record that he was the same age as I was, thirty Earth years. He had joined Starfleet at the same time I had, at the beginning of our twentieth year. Me, after a standard Vulcan science education and refusing the VSA's offer of a research position. Kirk, after accelerating through a dual major of space politics and galactic history at Iowa State University.
We had arrived in San Francisco on the same date and had lived in the same dormitory. So why did I have no idea he existed until he was assigned to the Enterprise?
Kirk must have anticipated my question because he explained before I could answer his inquiry. 'I kept to myself as much as you did at the Academy. I saw you only in passing most of the time, usually when you were headed to a xenobiology lecture. The flight simulators were one hall down from the biology labs.'
I quirked my eyebrow at this information, but when he did not continue, I answered his question.
'Mr. Finnegan was a rather...persistent individual.'
The captain laughed. 'That's one way of putting it. He spent my whole Academy career trying to get me to go to the parties he hosted. I don't know why. He didn't seem to like me much.'
'He showed me animosity as well.' I said, remembering the day Cadet Finnegan had accosted me in the hallway of the xenobiology labs.
He had pushed me into a wall without provocation and demanded that I quit the Academy and return to my 'hellhole of a planet'. As it was late and all the other cadets had returned to the dormitories, I could not thwart him by simply disappearing into the crowd. Therefore, I prepared to use my superior strength to ward him off and render him unconscious if necessary.
But I didn't need to. As Cadet Finnegan stalked me and backed me towards the botany laboratory, a hand reached out to pull him into the room. Then the door slammed shut.
I could hear heated words within the room, but since the cadet was no longer bothering me, I decided it was in my best interest to leave the area.
Now, as I sat in the recreation room with Captain Kirk, I pondered this incident again. Although I had never seen the face of the person who dragged Cadet Finnegan into that room, I now believed I knew who it was.
'I must thank you for distracting Cadet Finnegan the day he found me alone in the laboratories.' I bowed my head, attempting to indicate sincerity. Although the incident had not upset me, if Finnegan had succeeded in causing me physical injury, or if I had been forced to cause him harm, there would have been investigations into my life that I could not have afforded.
'He was an ass.' Kirk said bluntly. 'And like I said, I owe you.'
'Then surely we are, as humans say, 'even'.'
'Not a chance. I owe you more than just getting Finnegan off your back.' The captain's voice sounded sincere and emphatic, but it gave me no clue as to the reason for his belief.
His next words deepened the mystery surrounding our past.
'If it wasn't for what you did, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you. I'd be particles scattered in the air.'
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end part 3
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After that tantalizing glimpse into our shared past, Kirk again thwarted my attempts to discover the details of our first encounter.
'It was a long time ago, and far from pleasant. If you don't remember what happened, it's probably best that I don't tell you,' the captain replied when I inquired about where and when we had met. I could see from his expression that he was worried, but he gave no clue as to why.
I had no choice but to cease my questioning. It was part of the code my father gave me.
He had told me that when I faced an emotion without explanation, it was best to shift the conversation in a new direction. Such an action prevented accidentally causing distress in the other person when they realized I did not sympathize with them adequately.
So we ended our night playing chess while I listened to Kirk tell me about his childhood in North America. He did not press me for information about my past. From the look of sympathy on his face, I deduced that he noticed my difficulties in talking about myself.
When we parted ways later that night, I immediately went to the Starfleet database in search of further information on my captain. I found many commendations in his service records from the Farragut and the Alexander, as well as his awards from the Academy.
There was also one reprimand. It was for his solution to the Academy's Koybayashi Maru test, in which he forced the simulation to allow him to 'solve' the dilemma.
Apparently, the captain's method of playing chess applied to his philosophy of life. During the inquiry, he had stated quite clearly that he did not believe in a situation without a solution.
I puzzled over this momentarily, wondering why his explanation would stir in me...something...satisfaction? This was curious. Having any emotion outside of the times I fed my needs was extremely uncommon.
I needed to meditate on this feeling. However, first I needed to finish my task. But when I searched Kirk's history beyond his time in Starfleet, I quickly found that all of his childhood records were of the most ordinary type for an Earth-bound human.
Except for one. In a section of his profile, I found an undated classified file that I was unable to access. It had a Starfleet-style datalock indicating it was only to be opened by the admiralty. Undaunted, I attempted to break the lock, but none of my techniques were effective.
Seeing no other recourse at the moment, I abandoned my search and prepared to meditate. But I could not concentrate on the emotion I had felt earlier. Because another demand was beginning to surface.
I could feel the need inside me clamoring for release. I had to satisfy it soon, tonight if possible. If I let it grow, it would get larger and more demanding, and my control would slip.
Without control, I could not follow the code. Someone would die.
So as I meditated, a part of my mind searched for a candidate on the ship's roster. After a short contemplation, I decided Lieutenant Barnes would be an adequate choice. He fit the code. Security had been put on alert concerning the lieutenant's obsession with Ensign Lara Kehr. It was becoming such a problem that I had recommended that Barnes be removed from the ship. But until he was, he would serve me well.
My father had made it clear that I was less likely to be discovered if I chose my victims from those who annoyed or harmed others.
Peter Finnegan had been one of my victims. I had chosen him a few days after the situation in the biology laboratories. He must have annoyed others as well, for when he returned from the medical facility my feeding had sent him to, I heard a number of cadets lament that his injuries were not more severe.
But he was not my first victim. In fact, he was my second human. Before that, I had used a total of 23 Vulcans.
One would think I did not find many that fit my code among my brethren, as Vulcans are trained to be neutral in social situations. But I learned very early that this is only a partial truth. All Vulcans have the same personality traits as other beings in the galaxy, though most other beings would find them muted. Except for the traits that tend to cause distress in others.
Those traits stand out against the background of Surak-induced neutrality.
So it was actually rather easy to find victims among my own people. But none of them were as satisfying to me as my first human, a cadet named Mark Young. He was, according to Academy gossip, a very difficult man to be around.
He was in my botany laboratory. At first, he simply appeared to be a quiet and studious man, much like myself. Then I began to notice that all of the females, and some of the males, went out of their way to avoid being his partner, or even being near him. He was what the females called a 'grabber'.
So when the need came upon me, 1.5 months into my first year at the Academy, I chose him. He was an easy victim. His mind was weak.
I cornered Young just outside the Academy campus, on his way to one of the group events that normally happen on Friday nights. It was simple to convince him that I knew of a woman who would be most appreciative of his type of attention.
He did not appear concerned as I took him to a room I had rented near the Golden Gate Bridge under an assumed name. He did not seem to notice the hotel was in one of the poorer neighborhoods.
But when I forced him against the wall once the door was closed, he began to struggle. The fight in him began to stir emotions in me. I felt exhilarated. I felt alive.
So I entered his mind. I found much there to excite me.
Cadet Young attempted to ward me off the moment he found me within. He shoved and hit at my mental presence...but it was as effective as pushing at air.
This was much easier and much more satifying than fighting a Vulcan. My people are psychically adept. They can easily thwart a mental intruder. Therefore, I always had to follow the Code when taking a Vulcan. They had to be be incapacitated when I removed them from their surroundings and they had be given anti-telepathy drugs before they woke to keep them docile.
But even under those circumstances, Vulcans are dangerous. They could easily overwhelm me, and achieve the same outcome that I was attempting. They could steal inside me, sift through my memories, control me, and take from me whatever pleased them. Then they could leave me numb, unaware, or trapped in my own mind with no way out.
Initially, that had been a thrill for me. I had felt excitement and fear every time I pursued a Vulcan victim.
For one such as myself, fear is a good feeling. It is something to be treasured. When I feared, I felt vibrant.
But when I entered Cadet Young's mind, I saw the potential to feel a new emotion: contentment. The feeling one has when everything works correctly and you have received what you needed.
I know to many humans, this emotion is often the one that means the least. They prefer the exhilaration that comes with great joy or great fear. But contentment gave me something that I did not have in my emotionless existence: security. The belief that I was safe and that all would be well.
I craved that feeling that most beings attempt to instill in their young at an early age so the child has the courage explore their existence. I had not felt it since age four. It was lost to me when I watched my half-brother die.
So when I gained that sense of contentment and security temporarily by sliding into this young human's mind and overwhelming him, I knew I had to have more.
So I fought Cadet Young's mental projection of himself. Our battle was most curious. It differed from taking Vulcan victims in that his form became bloody as he struggled with me.
The blood seemed to be a manifestation of the pain I was causing him, because as he bled, he began to scream. The more he screamed, the more blood that flowed out of him. I so enjoyed this that I almost let it go on too long. If he had lost all of that precious fluid on the mental plane, he would have died on the physical plane from psychic shock.
But the memory of my father's voice stopped me. 'Do not take much from the weak ones. For if you kill them, there will an investigation. But if you allow them to survive, they will appear to have lost their connection with reality.'
In humans, that is referred to as psychosis, which is most often the result of chemical imbalances, small brain deformities and high levels of stress. It is nearly impossible to cause psychosis deliberately.
So I broke the meld at the last possible moment to ensure his survival.
The next day, the Academy commenced inquiries into the cause of his state but nobody ever suspected I created Cadet Young's 'mental illness'.
I expected that my time with Lieutenant Barnes would be just as easy.
But when I drew him to a recreation room and entered his mind, he found a way to quickly overpower me and throw me out of the meld.
His defense surprised me, but I was able to regroup quickly. I re-entered the Lieutenant's mind, looking for the cause of his psychic skill.
Ah, there it was. The Lieutenant was part Betazoid. Betazoids were much more psychically adept than Vulcans. I would not be able to overwhelm him adequately.
But I could alter his memory. I made him forget this excursion with me, as well as his obsession with Ensign Kehr.
I thought it best to help the morale of the ship, even though my needs were not met.
My condition would not allow me to take Barnes to his quarters. In order to stabilize myself, I needed to meditate. Therefore, after making sure Barnes would be safe in the room until he was found, I left. As I walked down the hall, I was surprised to see that I was trembling slightly, both in fear and need.
My emotional state so preoccupied me that I ran into Captain Kirk.
'Whoa!' My superior officer grabbed my shoulders to keep me from falling as I staggered back from our collision.
It must have been my vulnerable state that caused it. It must have been because I was letting the emotions Lieutenant Barnes had provoked flow through me freely.
For it was then that I remembered what had happened with this man so long ago.
In that instant, a scene flashed through my mind. A blond haired child, screaming in pain. Another child, me, pulling him away from the danger. Emotions had flowed freely in me then, too. I had been weary. I had been sad. I had been determined to prevent my new friend from dying.
I had made this decision at the most dangerous of times. A riot had broken out in the streets after Kodos' announcement. Just as many had died at the hands of their friends and neighbors as from the disintegrators that day.
But I, a small four year old child, had slipped through the crowds at the disintegrators and grabbed my friend. Bloody and beaten, I still had been able to pull that other child to safety. I had clutched him to me tightly, swearing that I would take care of him always.
I had dragged him to the large shed behind the Governor's house. We had huddled there in the dark, afraid to move as we heard the fierce yelling from the mobs outside. We had cried and shivered, mourning those we had lost. It had felt like we were there for days. We had been starved and dehydrated, but we had known that to leave our haven would have been our deaths.
But then, after we both had slept, the boy had been taken from me by strong hands. I had screamed, thinking they were going to kill him. It was only later that I had realized they had saved him. They had saved us both.
But for months afterwards, I had woken from nightmares screaming his name.
'Jamie.'
The captain smiled at me softly. 'Yes, Spock.'
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end part 4
