Veritas

Chapter Nine: Veritas Nunquam Perit

... Spock was attractive.

All right. This was understandable, and it wasn't like the notion had never ever occurred to him before... was it? Nah, he must have thought that at some point; the evidence was impossible to miss.

But it had to be a bit more than the sudden revelation that Spock could look pretty amazing in certain slanting lights... which he could, but that was nothing to get all panicked over.

Jim let himself fall back against the mattress and groaned aloud. Okay, boringly standard-beige ceiling; time for some serious thinking.

He had established that A, Spock was attractive. In retrospect, this point was extremely obvious.

Insultingly so. How on Earth had he not thought this sooner?

Anyway, it was time for points B and C.

Point B. Did the fact that Spock was now, suddenly and inexplicably, handsome, change anything?

Not necessarily. Was Jim truly incapable of being friends with someone good-looking and not try to talk them into bed? Nope, the name Nyota Uhura disproved that completely. In fact, it was since they'd become friends that he'd stopped thinking of her that way. So why couldn't he just keep acting as before?

Yes, Jim knew the difference between admitting that Sulu, for example, could be appealing, and actually wanting to sleep with him (which he really didn't). The question point C raised was, which category did Spock fall into?

His instinctive answer was that God, no, he couldn't want to sleep with Spock. That would be probably the worst idea ever, wouldn't it? Not to mention the fact that Jim very rarely went for guys, although it wasn't completely unheard of, of course, and, um, Spock's delicate features certainly made him about as pretty as a man could get without being feminine.

But... he didn't want Spock like that.

That was the logical conclusion to draw from all this.

Right?

It certainly seemed that way.

Things could go on the way they always had. Did it even matter that he'd imagined that Spock looked kind of hot? Not to Jim, it didn't! After more than a year as Captain Jim had learned (the very, very hard way) to control his libido, and (sadly) to go without sex for awfully long periods of time. This was undoubtedly some of that misplaced energy coming back and biting him on the ass, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Spock was his closest friend. Way closer than Uhura, for example, so Jim would simply think of him in the same way as he thought of her. Problem solved.

The future started to seem a little brighter as Jim realised he had found his way out of a potentially terrifying prospect. Not bad for an emotionally constipated allegedly immature playboy, wasn't it?

Uh... was it?

As though it had been waiting for him to finish that thought, his computer beeped and Jim was jolted out of his confusing questions by an incoming comm-call. Subject: Personal.

"Comp—" he started, voice raspy from having his mouth hanging slightly open, then coughed. "Computer, display caller ID."

"Spock, of New Vulcan."

At the mention of the name Jim leaped up and stumbled over to the console.

Of course, it wasn't actually his first officer... it was the other Spock, the elder man who'd crashed into Jim's world from another universe. And there was no one else in the entire galaxy Jim would rather talk to at this moment, even though he now realised that he was sporting a slight headache; as if someone had tried to whack him on the head with a bat and only just missed.

He typed the appropriate code in the screen with deceptively calm fingers and sat down just as the clear image of Spock's lined yet familiar face came into view.

"Hey Spock! It's great to hear from you!"

"Greetings, Jim."

They'd spoken a few more times over comm-calls since Jim last saw him the day he'd gotten his command, but usually the topics were to do with administrative stuff (except for the first day, perhaps, when Jim had called him to ask why on earth young Spock knew about old Spock's existence and the universe remained unimploded). Spock was always wonderfully kind and friendly in his own way, but today, while that warm light still shone in his eyes, he looked almost... a bit worried.

"Is everything okay over there?" Jim asked immediately, shoving aside his own preoccupation. He'd gotten amazingly good at picking up subtle moods over time spent with his First Officer.

"There are several developing projects that I am in charge of overseeing, but so far our progress has been smooth, if somewhat slower than anticipated."

"Oh." He wondered whether pointing out that Spock looked concerned would be taken as an insult. "Um, well..."

"Jim, I wish to apologise for being unable to contact you sooner. I had not been told of this trial occurring until two days ago."

"Huh?"

Spock elaborated patiently. "I am not calling because there have been problems in the colony, Jim. I am calling because I wish to express my..." here he paused carefully and in those dark eyes there was the knowledge of a life that had spanned more than a century. Jim was quiet, waiting. "I wish to make it clear to you that I am 'by your side,' as Humans say."

One of the glaring differences between this Spock and his young counterpart was the... openness the elder man always displayed with Jim. It was a strange sensation, to be regarded with so much affection and trusted with so much confidence when he didn't think he'd really done anything to justify either. Which of course lead to thoughts of the other Jim Kirk this Spock had known, the one who these emotions were actually for...

Talking to the older Spock was always quite an experience; it messed with his head.

"Thanks." He decided not to correct the Vulcan and explain that the expression was 'on your side' instead of 'by your side'. He kind of preferred this version anyway.

"In my timeline there was never such a trial, despite the fact that similar circumstances had occurred."

"Really?"

Jim sat up a little straighter in his chair and leaned forward, trying to picture it. Another Jim and another Spock who risked their lives for each other... had the other Kirk woken up one day to this strange realisation, like he had... or had he always known and been forced to ignore the fact?

"Yes. There were multiple instances, however the closest events to these happened when I was believed to be lost, and Jim had to commandeer the Enterprise and organise a rescue mission, disobeying direct Starfleet orders..."

"Wait, wait a second. Your Jim stole the Enterprise on a small chance that he'd save you?" Whoa, that was a hell of a lot more than what they had done.

"Yes. He was also forced to program the self-destruct sequence later on, and the ship was, unfortunately, permanently damaged."

"... And then he blew it up?" Jim flailed, then started to laugh hysterically, because really otherwise he'd moan or cry and he hated doing that. "How on Earth did you get away with that without being imprisoned? At the very least for a partial sentence?"

"Jim was demoted from his rank of Admiral back to Captain. There were mitigating circumstances, of course, however, I believe he considered himself rather satisfied with the result."

Jim shook his head in amazement. "Wow, you guys had it pretty good, huh?"

But here Spock's eyes clouded, and he didn't incline his head in agreement. "There were difficult developments for us as well."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean... I'm really sorry."

"Do not apologise, it is not necessary," Spock informed him serenely. The light in his eyes returned and Jim found breathing a little easier; he'd hate to think he'd somehow caused the old man pain, even if it was inadvertently. "However, it does seem as though your timeline tends toward the less fortunate course of events, Jim."

And Jim could hear the sympathy in his tone, and it was like a balm to his wounds.

"Yeah, well, you did tell me once that the other Jim had gotten a commendation for programming that sub-routine on the Kobayashi Maru, right? I got a disciplinary hearing."

Spock's eyes shone with mirth and Jim grinned back, content to bask in the easy acceptance and admiration he felt radiating from the other man. They kept talking easily for quite some time before Spock was forced to sever the connection, claiming work, and Jim realised it was almost lunch time and he'd been hoping to track down Bones and force the man to stop and eat something.

"Thanks so much for calling. I... it means a lot."

Spock nodded. "There is always a pleasurable reaction associated with your presence, Jim."

Jim felt his heart constrict. "Uh... same here." Then he cleared his throat and felt himself shy away from the heavy emotions; he wasn't used to such a genuine feeling of like being directed at him with so much simple sincerity and it always made him nervous.

"You're sure you don't want me to get Spock... younger you to come up? He's doing some stupid experiment or something but I could totally go there and interrupt and take him with me..." and basically rescue the guy. "It would actually do him a world of good, so—"

"That will not be necessary, although I note your consideration."

Spock raised his hand in the Vulcan salute, but to Jim's surprise he didn't say 'Live long and prosper'.

"Good luck, Jim."

Jim knew he would need it, but it made him smile fondly to think of the elder man doing something as illogical as wishing him 'luck'. "Goodbye, Spock."

x

Lunch with Bones was actually pretty great. The toughest part had been convincing his friend to actually stop working and eat (they had plenty of things in common, after all), but after Jim had dragged the doctor to the nearest mess hall, the conversation was light and teasing; a little breath of fresh air in amidst the heavy cloud of confusing emotional chaos Jim's life seemed to have become lately.

Three more people came up to them to express their support about the trial and Jim answered their hesitant questions within the best of his ability, but he was glad that none of them expected much or stayed for long.

After considering a passing remark on Spock's physical attributes and discarding it instantly, they parted ways; McCoy heading back to Sickbay and Jim to Moss's office.

"Do try not to succeed in accidentally killing yourself before your checkup later?"

A naturally trusting and cheerful person Leonard McCoy was not.

x

"Good evening, Captain Kirk. I trust you're feeling better?"

Jim shrugged as the door to Moss's office swished shut behind him. "I was barely hurt, actually." He couldn't help a little nervous thrill when he sat down and eyed the empty chair next to his. "Spock not here yet?"

Moss leaned forward on his desk and eyed Jim with narrowed eyes, as though he wanted to catalogue every micro-expression the younger man revealed when he spoke next.

"He was held up at the science department, which is actually very fortunate because I wanted to work with you alone first."

"Ah."

So Spock was so interested in those experiments that he was late? Either that or Mara must really be a fascinating creature. Hmph. He would not wish them happiness; an affair like this one could never end well and Spock was a total idiot if he couldn't see that Mara was just after his pointy ears or, uh, something that made a bit more sense than that—

But then he realised what he was thinking. No, Spock was chronically incapable of being late to anything.

"Did you tell him to wait before coming over?"

Moss didn't even flinch. "Actually, I told him not to come at all. It's just going to be you and me today."

Jim scowled. "Is this because of the Veritas test? I'm gonna have to answer those questions in front of a judge, the military jury, you, dear Miss Shaw, my friends and Spock."

"Yes, but I want to try with some questions that you might not be comfortable with first, and according to the results we get here today I'll know what to do with you in the stand. Because I'm going to have to call you to the stand, of course. Not only will it look suspicious if I don't, but the jury needs to hear certain things from your own mouth."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, but I still think..." then an image came to his mind, of Spock's contemplative gaze raking over him as Jim's confused brain tried to give answers that were evaluated as true or false with perfect accuracy... "Okay. Fine, let's do this."

Moss opened a drawer in his desk and took out a rectangular device approximately the size of a datapad, with gleaming black casing and no screen.

"Nathaniel Moss, code four-eight-fifteen-sixteen," the lawyer enunciated clearly. There was a soft whirring and then;

"Confirmed," a voice answered. It was impossible to tell whether it was male or female. "Proceed."

"Excellent. Well, Jim, whenever this machine's sensor detects a question, it will automatically scan the answer for truth. 'Yes' or 'no' answers are preferable, of course, but not mandatory—"

"I know. I've used this thing before; every Starship has one for investigative missions."

"Oh yes, of course, I forgot. You'll know then that there's a catch...? Veritas doesn't know whether a fact is real or not; it is, for all intents and purposes, a lie-detector with an incredibly powerful scanning mechanism. So a lie is the only thing it will detect, do I make myself clear?"

Jim nodded again. It was one of the main problems with using equipment like this. "When a killer really believes he's innocent, even if he's not, the machine won't realise there's anything wrong with his answer."

"Exactly."

Moss pushed the innocent-looking device closer to Jim and looked at him expectantly.

"Is your name James Tiberius Kirk?"

"Yup."

"Correct," came the instant answer.

"What Starship do you captain?"

"The USS Enterprise."

"Correct."

"Are you in love with Commander Spock, James?"

"Oh come on."

"What questions were you expecting when I said 'you might not be comfortable'?"

Jim rubbed his temples and decided to at least act mature; he wouldn't be helping either Spock or himself by throwing a stupid tantrum here.

"Fine. I'm sorry. Please try again."

"Are you in love with Commander Spock?"

"No," he replied confidently. This, at least, he was pretty clear on, even though he was perceptive enough to note that Moss certainly wasn't.

"Correct," The mechanised voice said after the shortest pause.

Feeling rather smug, Jim raised his eyebrows at the lawyer's expression of mild surprise. "Happy?"

"Somewhat. Let's continue. Are you emotionally compromised by Commander Spock?"

"No," Jim said, even more forcefully.

"Correct."

"Are you aware of the fact that Starfleet Command's investigation of this case began without you being notified?"

Well, that was an unexpected turn.

"Obviously. But it's not against the rules or anything."

"Correct."

"Are you aware of the fact that the level of surveillance that your mission operations were submitted to exceeds the normal rate that other Captains have endured?"

"I suspected as much, yeah."

Technically, Jim realised that it made sense, of course. There was nothing illegal or even very inherently wrong about keeping a close eye on him. He was young, untrained, more often than not associated with words like 'brash' and 'impulsive', and with a reputation for attitude and rule-breaking. Not to mention a record of mutiny and the accusation of cheating for a test.

Okay, so when you looked at it like that it sounded kind of bad.

"Correct."

But seriously, it had been more than a year. Yes, the feeling of wanting to stick-it-to-the-man wasn't gone, and Jim didn't think it would ever really leave him; even though he could technically be considered part of 'the man' now. However, old habits died hard, and if his life had taught him anything it was that there was always, always something to prove.

He'd thought he'd lived up to—no, he'd exceeded all expectations, hadn't he? There hadn't been many, which had definitely made this easier for him, but he'd been under the impression that he'd taken their preconceived notions about him and shoved them up... eh, that is, set them aside.

"Are you aware of the fact that you have broken regulations on multiple occasions?"

Jim hesitated. "What am I supposed to answer to that? I'm perfectly aware of that."

"Correct."

Moss rolled his eyes. "Well first of all, please don't answer 'I'm perfectly aware of that'."

"What, then?"

The corner of the lawyer's mouth twitched and he proceeded to explain what the 'proper' kind of answer would be. Jim did his best.

Time passed relatively fast until it was time for dinner, and Jim learned how to sound like someone who had issues with the Standard language and spoke in some really impressively convoluted half-truths that the lie detector had to pass as 'correct.' It was an exhausting but very useful skill that he turned out to be unexpectedly good at, so by the end of the session a self-satisfied grin was in order.

"Not bad, was I?"

"Not at all."

Jim stood from his chair, grin still firmly in place. He felt almost relieved, which was weird. "You sound surprised."

"I am," Moss replied, perfectly serious. Jim laughed. "I have to admit I'm pleased with the answers we got, Kirk. Let's hope they don't change, eh?"

He chose to ignore this last comment. "Okay, okay, see you tomorrow, then? It's Sunday but I'm assuming that's not an issue here either?"

"You assume right. We have little time to prepare as it is."

They parted more amicably than any other day and Jim actually allowed himself to feel a teensy, tiny bit of optimism as he made his way to the Hospital Bay where McCoy was waiting for him and his checkup. He felt great, his terrifying epiphany this morning seemed much less dramatic now and if they won the trial quickly he could be back on his ship in a little over week.

In retrospect, he should have known that things were never easy and, if your name was James T. Kirk, 'optimism' was a terrible omen, or at least a sign of-

Oh God it was Spock standing there near the turbolift talking to two men what if he turned around what if he saw Jim what if he read his mind wait wasn't he supposed to be in the labs...?

Jim slowed his steps and tried not to panic. A second look revealed this man was slightly shorter than Spock, although he was obviously also a Vulcan. Well well. No one had told him there was a Vulcan working at the base.

The corridor was empty besides their little group because most officers were eating dinner at this time. As Jim drew closer he saw that this man was a very handsome fellow; with the same sweeping eyebrows and black eyes that characterised his people, but there were a few differences between him and Jim's First Officer. The stranger looked elegant and poised but his stance was even more rigid than Spock's, and therefore less graceful. He also had a sharper nose and more angular features, or maybe it was just the man's complete and utter lack of expression, also more pronounced than the half-Vulcan's. Instead of glinting prettily in the light, this man's eyes were cold and blank.

"... a week remains, therefore I will have sufficient time to procure an interview—"

The Vulcan's gaze flicked toward Jim and stayed there. He stopped mid sentence and turned to face him, expression so utterly devoid of any sort of indicator of his mood that it might have made someone else uncomfortable.

Jim smiled at him and raised his hand in greeting.

"Can I help you?"

"You are James Kirk."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, and you were discussing the date of my trial, unless I misunderstood?" He kept his tone jovial but he found it difficult to believe in coincidences.

"Yes," the Vulcan replied.

"And you wanted to talk to me about something? You don't need to ask my lawyer for permission or anything, you know," he added. 'Procuring an interview' sounded so formal. Then again, Vulcans.

"You would not object to an interview?"

Jim frowned, then stared at the two rather surly-looking Human men standing slightly behind. One held a camcorder, and the other a pack of datapads, but they didn't have the Starbase insignia, and when he looked back at the Vulcan he realised that he wasn't wearing a uniform.

"You're a journalist?" he asked incredulously.

"The correct term is broadcast researcher. You believed I was a Starfleet officer working at this base." That last part wasn't a question, more like the man was simply stating how moronic Jim was.

Wow. For some reason he'd never imagined that a Vulcan would even consider such a profession. But of course they must; the news-feeds were a practical way of keeping oneself informed, and someone had to write the articles, right?

"What's your name?" Jim asked, trying to be friendly. He didn't want to give any interviews; he'd already had plenty of mics shoved in his face back on Earth and he wasn't planning on repeating the experience, even if it was one-on-one. Just in case, however, he decided he'd avoid answering the question in favour of asking Moss about it first. Who knew, maybe it was a good idea to get the public on their side by playing up the poor misunderstood heroes angle.

"I am called Stavok."

Jim wondered whether Stavok blamed him for the loss of his planet; obviously the man knew who he was. Then he wondered whether he had been among those Vulcans who, like Spock, had been unable to suppress an emotional outburst. Had Stavok had a wife? Children? Brothers or sisters...? A family, surely. Were his parents safe in the colony? Maybe he hadn't even been on the planet when Vulcan had ended, maybe he and his family had been away and that was why he'd survived.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Stavok," Jim said sincerely. For some reason he found that he cared what this man thought about him; that it was to people like him that he wanted to show that this trial was a farce and Jim really was a good Captain. He tried to push back the irrational thought but it remained.

"I have heard much of your accomplishments, Captain Kirk," Stavok said by way of reciprocation, and in its own logic the statement was a compliment, of course, so Jim was pleased. He also couldn't help a little grin because Spock sometimes slipped up and said things like 'it is a pleasure' but clearly this dude took Surakian discipline very seriously; and the thought of Spock not putting his complete mental capacity and effort into doing something was quite hilarious.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around, then." Jim nodded at the other two men who gave half-hearted nods in return. Being stuck with a mannequin-like boss all day must be exhausting, Jim reflected with a mental shrug, and decided to cut them some slack.

"That is correct," Stavok agreed.

Jim stepped into the turbolift with a wave behind him and the doors hissed shut.

"Hospital Bay," he said confidently. Through the small transparent window, floors whooshed past at incredible speed and Jim stared up at the ceiling of the pod with a faint smile still on his face.

x

In the end, it happened so fast.

Slam.

Jim walked out of the lift without looking and collided with a solid wall of iron-hard muscle.

It happened too fast.

He lost his balance and started to fall backwards, but an arm caught him around the waist. And suddenly it didn't matter if the world was tilting when his spine was arched under a taller, lean body curved over him in a strangely protective gesture. Sky-black eyes hovered right above his face and for an instant Jim could have counted the incandescent stars hidden in their fathomless depths. For that instant to last he would have sold his soul...

But when he was jerked up with just the one arm on his back it was with excessive force; an abrupt and violent gesture that made him crash into his rescuer's body once more. There was no warning.

Just a sudden closeness that lit him on fire.

His chin was cradled over a higher shoulder and he was held up with such strength that for one second Jim was practically lifted off the ground, barely standing on tip-toe. The pressure of the splayed hand against his back meant they were aligned together perfectly, and as gravity claimed him and he began to slide back to his feet the brush of their bodies was a scorching hot caress... and Jim's stupefied brain promptly short-circuited and died.

And then it was all gone.

Spock set him down and everything was so confusing, surreal, dizzying; one moment there had been startlingly warm skin pressed against him and scalding breaths like flames stroking his neck... and the next he was cold. So cold.

Hollow, empty, bereft and alone... Jim didn't even have a chance to react before he was given a stiff nod and Spock entered the turbolift, followed by Mara Dalle with a very curious expression on her face.

They didn't even speak. Not a word, not an overly formal 'excuse me, Captain' which Jim knew was Spock's way of saying 'hi,' not even... no. He was gone. And Jim was left standing alone exactly where Spock had left him, startled and winded as if someone had smashed a fist into his gut; he could almost feel the physical urge to double over in pain under the boiling of his blood but it was distant, drowned by his pounding heartbeat like raindrops drowned by explosive thunder, making his ears ring...

Electric blue eyes stared at the floor, hands clenched at either side of his body, as he focused on the ghost of the shocking warmth all over him. He could still feel the touch like a taunting, laughing whisper in his ear, making him shudder with the sensation, still breathing over him... it was insane, it was crazy, he shouldn't feel like this, he knew he couldn't... he absolutely could not afford to feel like this.

No way.

No.

He had decided, he had already decided...

He couldn't...

But he did. Oh God, he most definitely did, and it was impossible and ridiculous and dangerous, much too dangerous but it was there, in the tongue of heat trailing down his spine and in the knot of want tightening his stomach.

Jim started walking without realising it. He was lucky the corridor was empty and he didn't accidentally trample anyone.

Of course he wanted Spock. Of course he did. How long had this been going on? Was he blind? Who had he been trying to fool, anyway? Of course that was why he'd panicked this morning. He hadn't realised the fact that Spock was handsome, that was just A Fact.

He'd realised he kind of wanted to do something about it.

Like maybe find out what it would be like to shove Spock against a wall and kiss him.

Idiot.

He honestly couldn't understand how the fact had escaped him before. Or... well, okay, it hadn't been entirely inconceivable for him to imagine that Spock was good-looking, but... but how did he use to handle Spock's eyes? What was wrong with them, anyway? Why were they so dark and sincere sometimes but also piercing and brimming with that sharp, ruthless intelligence that made Jim's blood hum...

Jim was, to be perfectly honest, rather impressed with himself. The level of denial it would take not to notice that the words 'Spock' and 'sex' should definitely be used together in sentences all the time was... quite extraordinary.

So to sum up: exactly one week before the trial began, he'd realised that he was attracted to the man he was accused of being emotionally compromised by.

Wow, timing was a bitch.

I know there was a slight lack of Spock in this chappie (although SPOCK PRIME IS LURVE!) but I like to think that, in spirit, he was really lurking behind every thought in Jim's head, so… *giggle*

Also Spock catching Jim when he falls! (for some reason I have a sudden craving for cheese...)