Veritas
Chapter Twelve: Semper Veritas
The last few days passed like a cheesy training montage from those century-old sports films Jim used to love watching when he was a kid. You know, the ones about a team of outcasts and misunderstood heroes that managed to beat the odds and win at the very last second of the very end (also the cartoon one with the Chinese warrior-girl, because that song was badass).
The routine they'd developed quickly settled, as they spent most of their day in the lawyer's office practicing, testing Jim's answers with the Veritas device, rehearsing and discussing tactics. Jim was still uneasy about hiding the whole "get out of my dreams Spock, I mean it, except... don't" situation, but so far his testimony seemed consistent, and he still knew to be speaking the truth when he said he absolutely wasn't emotionally compromised by Spock.
He figured no one was going to ask "So have you lately been having a series of pathetically addictive dreams about different and exciting ways of sleeping with your First Officer?"
It seemed a tad unlikely.
Meals were usually eaten in one of the mess halls with some of the crew. Much to Jim's outer exasperation and well-hidden inner amusement, Spock had taken to sitting next to him in a silently watchful sort of way. Although Stavok wasn't mentioned again by either of them, Jim suspected that every once in a while Spock would look around the room to try and spot the other Vulcan, who had to yet make an appearance.
There were also Sickbay checks for Jim every night with Nurse Chapel; McCoy was, by now, too busy to do them himself. All in all, this was probably a good thing, since it meant there was no time to have more conversations about Jim's squishy feelings, or lack thereof (... or not). And at least he knew that Moss had said the doctor would testify, so maybe it was all in Jim's head. Maybe. He usually trusted his instincts, and refused to completely banish the notion in case he was right to be slightly paranoid.
Speaking of which, the reporters started arriving soon after, and Jim tried to train himself into recognizing them in order to perfect his avoidance techniques. Most of the bunch were Human, although he was pretty sure he saw an Orion woman, an Andorian... person, and one particularly ugly Tellarite. All of this meant, of course, that they weren't as polite as Stavok when it came to refusing to speak to them, and despite the fact that no one was ever directly rude, a couple of the Humans shot him annoyed looks that spoke of unflattering camera angles.
Fortunately, Jim didn't possess the ability to look anything less than ruggedly handsome.
The day before the trial, however, something happened that tested this theory, because slack-jawed surprise was not, necessarily, an incredibly attractive expression. But, you see, he got a comm-call from his mother.
Which was... unexpected to say the least, since he'd honest-to-God forgotten to tell her about what was going on. Of course, even she'd have seen it on the nets by now, and wanted (demanded) an explanation. Thankfully, while she did spend the first five minutes fuming at him, Winona never could stay angry at her youngest boy for long; no doubt a coping mechanism developed over time in order for her to survive Jim's... exciting childhood. Rather than actually being offended, she gave him what was mostly a chastising lecture, and to Jim's huge relief, never even asked whether there was anything actually going on with Spock.
Winona Kirk was way smarter than she let people think, and could understand her son's feelings, even through a comm-screen light-years away, better than he could himself.
The problem about a training montage is that it lasts a couple of minutes and then it's over, which means...
Game time.
Or, you know, something that sounded more like what a grown, mature man (whom did not fantasize about his First Officer) would say. Also, the verb 'to score' was from this point onwards banned from Jim's vocabulary. And losing was not an option for them, not even losing valiantly, which apparently could sometimes happen in these movies. Yeah, what was up with that? The whole point of the thing was the journey and overcoming your obstacles and whatnot—
Okay, now he had a headache.
x
Jim paced up and down the corridor, knowing that he was the one who needed to contain his energy this time, or at least his nerves, but finding the experience difficult.
Obviously, whoever designed the regulation black trousers didn't know (it was either that or they knew all too well, those bastards) that Spock's ass was amazing. And was he just supposed to try and concentrate with it right in the same room? What if Spock licked his lips in the middle of a an important question and the lie detector said "Ha!" and Jim's super secret man-crush was totally found out? What if Jim was caught in a serious lie and they really did lose? What if not telling anyone about his dreams had been a huge mistake he'd later come to regret?
Spock wasn't there yet, it was just Jim, walking outside Moss' office and waiting for the lawyer to take them to the courtroom... in his dress shirt; a gold-and-green affair with cuffs and a proper collar and everything. The material felt uncomfortably stretched over his broad shoulders and too tight around his muscled arms; he wished he could have just worn his usual command uniform.
"Calm the fuck down, Jim."
Oh right, McCoy was there too. He was standing with his arms crossed and a frown, looking at his Captain with stern disapproval (so, really just a slight variation of his usual expression, Jim thought spitefully).
"I'm calm," he snapped back.
"Stay still, then!"
"This is me trying."
But he stopped and leaned (well, maybe threw himself) against a wall, the painful bang against the back of his head only serving to remind him of how much he hadn't slept that night.
"You're gonna be fine."
"... I'm not so sure about that."
He grit his teeth and tried to rein his emotions even tighter. It wouldn't do to be seen like this in public, even though the corridor was deserted right now (it was lunch break for most personnel).
McCoy just kept looking at him. "Today is only the opening statements."
"And first testimony. Do you know who the first testimony is, Bones?"
"Yeah—"
"Me. I'm the first testimony. Either I screw up and then there's a ton of witnesses ready to try and fix my blunder or I do well, in which case there's a ton of people ready to go up and say 'See? He's not that bad!'. Obviously Spock is one of the last because his pokerface is epic and he can control his fucking pulse or some shit, I don't even know."
Okay, so he was very bad at trying to be Vulcan. And the amount of swearing was usually a pretty decent indicator of the amount of panic he was feeling.
"Jim."
"... Sorry. I'm just... this sucks," he finished lamely. "Uh... Spock should be here by now. Do you think one of the reporters tried to sexually assault him or something?"
McCoy raised his eyebrow incredulously. "That sounds unlikely."
"But he doesn't do 'late,' I told you. It's just not possible."
He craned his neck to try and see further down the corridor, but Spock stubbornly refused to appear there in all his quietly intense glory.
"Jim?"
"Mmhm?"
"You're acting like a fifteen-year-old girl again."
"Shit."
McCoy laughed. "Look, Jim, I trust you. I trust that you know what the hell it is that you're doing and I trust that lawyer guy because he seemed smart, so I ain't gonna question your judgment or anything. I even trust Spock in this, which is saying somethin.'" Jim felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards in a half-smile. "You'll get through it, okay?"
"Deep down you're really a decent guy, Bones."
"I know." They both grinned. "And I'll always be here—"
"Means a lot—"
"—to remind you when you're acting like a twelve-year-old."
Jim felt a laugh bubble up in his throat and he mock-punched his friend on the arm.
"Hey, I thought we'd settled on fifteen. Why am I suddenly being demoted three years?"
But McCoy got wicked gleam in his eye and he just said: "Because of this." And waved at someone behind Jim.
"Spock!" he called automatically, heart leaping when he realized it was his favourite Vulcan, looking elegant and composed as always in his silver-blue formal regulation attire. Instead of straining against his shoulders, however, the material looked flatteringly snug on Spock's lithe build, the colours only serving to highlight the darkness of his hair, eyes and eyebrows.
Jim caught himself a second too late and shot a glare at his best friend (only it was more of an 'Oh God Bones what is happening to me?' look than an actual glare).
"Hello, Captain. Dr McCoy."
"Hey, Spock," the doctor said. "Nervous?"
Spock arched a brow in a way that seemed to suggest that he'd been insulted by the question but was trying to be the bigger person here. Jim rolled his eyes.
"No, doctor."
"Of course, how could I ever imagine such a thing—"
"Good evening, gentlemen."
The trio turned to see Mr Moss standing outside his office behind a mountain of datapads, with a look that said he might be secretly amused by what was going on, but was in no way prepared to show it.
When he stepped forward, however, the stack he was carrying teetered dangerously and Jim took pity on the man and decided to shoulder most of the PADDs himself.
"Any inspirational speeches ready, Mr Moss?" he asked as he adjusted the weight in his arms, only partly joking.
"Nope. Just good luck, stick to the plan, and you'll be fine. And please don't screw up."
McCoy snickered under his breath as they all started walking down the corridor.
"Oh, and remember that it's very important that you try and pretend you have that 'responsible' thing we've been talking about," Moss added with a decent imitation of Spock's monotone deadpan.
Jim pretended to be offended while his alleged best friend shook with laughter.
"Clearly you have not seen Captain Kirk on the bridge of the Enterprise, Mr Moss, or you would not be instructing him thus," Spock commented. Jim turned to grace him with his biggest, brightest smile, and then Spock added thoughtfully: "He truly has mastered the art of appearing responsible then."
"Wow. I feel so appreciated right now."
His CMO clapped a hand on his back, nearly causing him to drop the datapads he was carrying. "Aw, come on Jim, this is just our way of being supportive."
"Yeah, it's a real lovefest."
But he knew they needed the humour for now, because in about an hour things probably weren't going to be too pretty.
x
The room was huge, and almost exactly like what Jim had come to expect. To have anything made out of wood, as was tradition in the nineteenth century, would be ridiculously expensive and impractical. Here were no enormous wooden podium or endless rows of seats for the public; instead everything was made out of sleek metal furnishings with a plain, efficient design.
There was a raised platform where, presumably, Commodore Emerett would be as judge, and next to it, slightly lower, the dreaded chair that Jim would sit on as soon as opening statements were finished. Next to that were the seats of the jury of the court-martial, made up of a group of officers or other enlisted persons. Even the people who sat as observers to the proceedings had to be related to the case in some way or other; advisors, witnesses... no civilians here.
Moss led them to the desk at the left of the judge's chair. The prosecution was already there; Areel sat on the one to the right with even more datapads than they had, if possible.
She met Jim's gaze briefly and nodded, but it was a professional, curt expression, which he returned.
A silver-haired, elegant man in his sixties sat beside her, and standing over them both was another woman, probably around Winona Kirk's age. The three were discussing something in hushed tones, and Jim wondered whether Spock could hear what they were saying. Probably. Well, that's what you got when you underestimated his—the Vulcan.
"I gotta be in the back, Jim," McCoy said quietly. He appeared to be valiantly trying to cover up his frowning concern with something akin to encouragement. It wasn't a pretty sight, but Jim really appreciated the effort.
"Yeah. Wish me luck, Bones."
Feeling like he should maybe give it a try as well, Jim made himself smile; a gesture designed to project outward reassurance without any real heart behind it. Not unlike the one he'd already used on his best friend when he thought he was stuck on the ground, waiting for the board to rule on his alleged 'cheating' on the Kobayashi Maru, while everyone else faced a dangerous rescue mission.
McCoy was not stupid, though, and had called that expression 'pathetic' since day one. Seeing it this time, he seemed to give up on encouragement and just scowled.
Oh well, Jim knew it was on his behalf.
"Jim. Fuck no-win scenarios, you hear me?"
Resolve flooded Jim in a way that he hadn't felt since leaving the Enterprise to come here. He nodded confidently with a true smile, this time; the feeling surging when he realized that he didn't have to fake his self-assurance at all. He could do this. He would.
"Yeah. You behave now."
"Good man," McCoy said, and with a parting mock-salute left to go sit in the back. Since Uhura, Sulu and Scotty were all testifying, they were probably going to join him there soon. The only reason this place was so empty was that Moss had wanted them to be there a half-hour early.
Jim sat in the chair between Spock and the lawyer and was about to try to start up a conversation with his First Officer when he remembered Moss had said that was a no-no. Not here, at least, so...
So now what?
Minutes passed at a crawling pace.
... This was boring.
Okay, so Jim sucked at waiting. Yes, he could be patient for certain things when he set his mind to it, but this sitting still for a long amount of time anticipating a dreaded event wasn't among his best qualities.
After a while, to distract himself, he began to discreetly observe his two companions. The differences between them were obvious; Moss was reading something from his datapad with curious dedication, clearly absorbed. Despite the fact that he was a mostly serious guy, he was very Human as he concentrated on the task he was doing.
In comparison, Spock was just sitting with his hands in his lap and a blank expression... except that it wasn't blank, was it? There were times when his First Officer deliberately kept his face empty, but there was a difference between that and his neutral, Vulcan expression. Usually he looked just as he did now; like his incredible brain was processing a thousand thoughts at once, and he merely chose not to let you be privy to them.
Rapidly forgetting about Moss's mannerisms when there was something as wonderfully complex as Spock to study, Jim took the opportunity to look at him in detail, being careful to be stealthy, so that Spock wouldn't notice.
It was a sight that had become so familiar over the past few months, yet remained utterly... fascinating. That really was the best word to describe how he felt; like he'd never tire of trying to figure out what that amazing intellect was focused on at the moment. Like he'd always want to trick Spock into revealing his thoughts to him (and only to him).
His gaze trailed down from the tip of Spock's ear to his jawline, and then his chin, his lips... then lazily back up to his cheekbones, and then to his lashes, framing... eyes that were looking sideways into his own.
"... Hey."
"Is there something you wish to discuss, Captain?" His voice was low in the quiet room, a pleasant rumbling that should been innocent enough, and nevertheless managed to make Jim swallow with difficulty.
"Uh, no, I'm fine. We can't talk, anyway."
A flicker of irritation made Spock's eyebrow twitch, as though he was annoyed that he hadn't been the one to point it out, but he nodded and looked away. And there ended the moment.
All right, so the problem was that when Jim had nothing to concentrate on, his over-active brain started choosing random things to concentrate on for him. And that was never a wise idea. Especially right now, when it seemed like every single atom in his body was quite content to remain fixated on Spock.
You know, for a change.
To avoid more awkwardness Jim decided to think about other things... quite a feat given the fact that they were almost touching, but it would be an interesting and potentially very useful exercise. Things happened in the world that weren't somehow related to Spock, right? Well, what had his life been like before that green-blooded man had crashed into it with all that entertainingly suppressed righteous anger, accusing Jim of cheating on a test?
In the end he settled for trying to mentally plan and coordinate the gigantic amount of work he'd have when he got back to his lovely Starship. It was more than effective at keeping his mind occupied, since trying to devise shift-changes and speculate about the next mission they'd be given was complicated enough.
And so minutes passed in silence until the room filled steadily with people. He turned every once in a while to discreetly greet his friends as they arrived, and got a thumbs up from Sulu, an encouraging smile from Uhura and a hearty wave from Scotty, who all sat with McCoy.
Finally, five minutes before 1400 hours, the previously unseen door behind the judge's table hissed open and a group of people filed silently inside. Twelve men and women in formal uniforms, all of them easily above the age of forty, glanced their way, then pretended they hadn't.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."
Emerett walked in behind them in a straining, extremely unflattering version of the shirt Jim was wearing. While the Captain was busy scanning the crowd of jurors and trying to get a reading, Spock's eyes darted between the two men... before fixing resolutely forward, a spark of self-deprecating contempt in his eyes and the merest hint of a greenish tint at the tips of his ears.
"I ask that all communicators and electronic devices be turned off and, as we all know, no recording equipment save the official log is allowed in this courtroom."
There was a flurry of activity as everyone took out their communicators to ensure this was so, and then the Commodore sat down on the chair and raised what looked like a small metal gavel. His dark eyes swept around the room, stopping when they met Jim's, and then Spock's, before he moved on to Areel.
"This court is now in session."
He clanged the gavel against a bell-like device that frankly sounded a little ridiculous and suddenly this was real, it was happening and Jim had the irrational impulse to hold Spock's hand.
Because that would look great for their case, of course, and Spock wouldn't fling him across the room if he so much as tried.
"Captain James T. Kirk and Lieutenant Commander Spock are hereby charged with negligence and wanton misconduct due to their emotional compromise with each other. This court martial has been convened to determine the veracity of said charges and assess the threat these officers pose to themselves and to their crew. A verdict of guilty or not guilty shall be issued by the jury and confirmed by me, Commodore Gregory John Emerett, when all the evidence has been presented by either party."
Jim edged slightly forward in his seat.
"To all charges and specifications, what is the plea?"
Moss stood up. "Not guilty."
Emerett nodded. "Very well. The prosecution may make their opening statement."
Areel rose gracefully from her chair, leaving the PADDs on the table. She didn't look nervous, Jim couldn't help but notice; she looked assured and confident and, above all, like she knew she was one hundred percent in the right.
"Good evening your honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury." She spoke in a clear, strong voice. "Ten days ago James Kirk and Commander Spock were involved in a mission at the planet Tersal II in Beta Quadrant that ended badly. Mr Spock was captured by the native inhabitants of said planet before a proper investigation on their cultural development could be conducted in keeping with the Prime Directive of non-interference. Unfortunately, the Enterprise had been ordered to leave the planet within a half-hour after this occurred, and there was no time to organize a proper search party, let alone a rescue mission."
Jim bristled at the assumption. She couldn't be the judge of that; he'd put together a rescue team in less time.
"As per protocol, the Enterprise communications officer, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, contacted Starfleet Command to inform them of this development and was told that the orders to leave stood, since they were needed to rendezvous with the Fidelius, another Starship that was experiencing technical difficulties."
Here Areel glanced at him for a moment, eyes full of reproach without a hint of that contrition she'd professed to feel just two days ago. She was an amazing actress, and Jim found himself already struggling to remember the funny, compassionate woman he'd spoken to.
"However, and following a disturbingly familiar pattern, Captain Kirk did not heed those orders. He was already down at the planet, severely injured after trying to save Mr Spock from his fate and, against the express orders from his Chief Medical Officer, refusing to beam back up to the ship until his First Officer was rescued. A brave sentiment, no doubt," she added with just a suggestion of scorn; it was there, but not enough that she could be accused of mocking him. "The landing party had also consisted of four security officers, all of whom were ordered to return to the ship while its Captain and Chief Medical Officer remained on-planet. Undoubtedly Captain Kirk did not wish to risk involving more people in his violation of the rules. Again, most noble."
Moss was scribbling away on his notebook, so fast the words barely intelligible to Jim's eyes.
"But the violation of these rules might have been overlooked had it not been for what happened next. You see, Captain Kirk devised a plan to rescue his... friend." The pause was brief and delicate, not overdone. Jim felt several looks come his way and slumped slightly in his chair with a bored look, while internally cursing in every language he knew. Areel was very good.
"It worked, of course, as we can all clearly see Mr Spock sitting next to Kirk. But it relied entirely on Mr Kirk's strategy, a strategy devised while running to his friend's rescue with a bleeding laceration on his abdomen that required extensive surgery and a week of prescribed bed rest."
Prescribed being the key word, here.
She was really starting to get on his nerves.
"The Fidelius was awaiting Enterprise's assistance and Kirk ignored direct Starfleet orders in order to remain on-planet. In other words, he would not leave without Mr Spock. This is not the first time a similar circumstance has happened. Nor is it the second, or the third. It was, in fact, merely the detonator."
Areel sighed softly in dramatic regret. Jim had to fight the violent urge to throttle something. She made it sound like he wouldn't have ordered the ship to warp out in another ten seconds if they hadn't gotten Spock back in time. They never actively disobeyed orders, she was taking things away from context.
"Once it was concluded that the situation had gotten out of hand, representatives from Starfleet administration brought this to the attention of the Admiralty, who saw reason and convened this court martial. The list of charges alone should be more than enough to condemn either of these two men, despite their more heroic escapades."
Escapades?
"While no one presumes to take any glory away from what they have done, it has become impossible to ignore the obvious. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock are emotionally compromised, and their work suffers for it. Undisclosed fraternizing has not been added to the charges because there is no proof, but at this point whether their relationship is romantic or not seems irrelevant. It appears that every time one or both of these men are involved in a mission, the other will lose his ability for sound reasoning. Captain Kirk might be 'only Human'," she added mock quotation marks in the air with a tone that suggested that wasn't an excuse. "But Mr Spock is Vulcan, and yet even he is unable to separate emotion from the situation."
Jim sensed Spock stiffen beside him and decided that if she so much as suggested something insulting like this about Spock again, he was going to be really fucking pissed.
"There is a deep, powerful bond here that speaks of something more than brotherly affection. And over the course of this trial you will see the evidence become irrefutable proof that the Admiralty's assessment is correct," Areel finished gravely. "Thank you."
With a lingering look at the twelve jurors and a nod at Emerett, she walked back to her seat.
Emerett turned to Mr Moss, his face inscrutable.
"The defense may now present their opening statement."
Moss stood up with a slight, patronizing half-smile that Jim had seen directed at him plenty of times before. Areel would hate it, he thought with relish, remembering her ranting to her friends in the bar.
When Moss turned to the jury, he rearranged his features into a serious expression again, but Jim knew it was no accident that he'd let them glimpse his apparent entertainment.
"Before I begin I'd just like to point out that the Fidelius' technical difficulties were to do with their replicated dairy products. Of important nutritional value no doubt, but hardly an emergency."
A ripple of amusement went through the room, and Moss paused indulgently.
"Well. As we all know, the two men sitting before us are famous among the united Federation of planets for reasons that have to do with commendations and acts of bravery, which I do not plan on repeating. The early promotion of Captain James Kirk was a much-discussed topic a mere year and a half ago, and yet in that time he has had to struggle with impossibly high-set standards. He has been forced to live under a spotlight, too, and to have both personal and professional decisions judged and discussed across the nets at every turn. It is not inspite of those accomplishments that so much is expected of him, it is because of them."
Well, well. Moss hadn't warned them about the fact that he was going to suggest this trial was arranged because of Jim and Spock's fame.
"And yet he has undertaken every task he has been set, and completed nintey-two point three percent of them with flying colours. Those are the real odds, by the way, which I can demonstrate," Moss added with another little smile. Letting them in on the joke. Jim caught at least a couple of people from the jury smiling back.
"That James Kirk is an excellent commanding officer is something any member of his crew will tell you if asked. His record since given the captaincy is spotless, and under his command, the Enterprise has a rate of successfully completed missions that no other Starfleet Captain can boast of. Now, we are not denying that, in the stressful situations our officers go through, some rules must be ignored in order to protect the crew. All of the crew. I'm sure that if every other Captain in the fleet was subjected to the same level of scrutiny Kirk has had to unknowingly endure, we would find a similar pattern."
And again, implying that the circumstances were suspicious. This time in a less subtle manner, too.
Moss walked as though he owned the place, but every once in a while he would look at Commodore Emerett and nod in deference. Jim had to admit he was impressed with the entire performance, but part of him was also a bit embarrassed at all that praise, even if he'd never show it.
"His First Officer Commander Spock is a well-respected, remarkably intelligent individual whose culture prizes itself on logic above all. He is probably one of the very few people in this room (or in any room, in fact) with the ability to remain perfectly calm in the middle of a chaotic situation.
"As a Vulcan, Mr Spock also has the ability to control his emotions so that they do not dominate him."
In a shocking flash the ghost feel of steel slender fingers wrapped around his neck made Jim's next breath lodge in his throat. His pulse racing, he stared firmly ahead and hoped no one noticed the way a slight flush was creeping up his cheeks.
Thank God reporters weren't allowed in here.
"Every decision Mr Spock has made when Captain Kirk was in danger can be explained by logic, and to suggest such a thing as 'emotional compromise' exists between these two exceptional officers is nothing less than an outrage. Young they may be, but they have proven time and time again that they get the job done. Perhaps the means are not always conventional, but the missions never are either."
Perhaps Jim was having a little trouble remembering why he really didn't like Spock right now.
"They are a team, ladies and gentlemen. A well-oiled machine, smart and dedicated to their crew; two friends who are just trying to do their jobs, and happen to rely on each other in the process."
Okay, there was a very important difference between attraction and affection, and he needed to establish it now.
Obviously Jim felt both for Spock, but while the former had sneaked up on him unexpectedly, he could perfectly justify the latter with their friendship. Jim was man enough to admit that he cared for Spock, of course he did. They were more than colleagues, definitely. As for more than friends... well, they were partners, in the sense that they complemented each other. Maybe some people had trouble understanding that (maybe Jim sometimes had trouble understanding that, too), but that didn't mean it had to go any further.
"Things are sometimes a little more complicated than simply looking at a general pool of incomplete facts and saying 'star-crossed love story.'" This last part was definitely said with implied laughing disdain.
Now, Jim might not be a master of emotional subtlety (or just... subtlety in general) but he could tell that if he let his feelings grow he was going to get hurt. And he wasn't masochistic enough to let that happen, right?
"Not to mention the fact that until recently Mr Spock was in a disclosed relationship with a woman."
That actually made a few of the jury members chuckle, but Jim was too absorbed in his own musings to do more than be distantly glad that the word 'bisexual' didn't seem to cross anyone's mind.
He had the suspicion that falling for Spock would be frighteningly easy... truly like letting himself fall, or maybe the more accurate metaphor would be to let himself sink. To let himself drown blissfully instead of thrashing and fighting and struggling to breathe above the surface...
Just letting go...
"But the, ah, romantic aspects aside, these two men do not deserve to be sanctioned, or even separated. They work well together, something that the mission logs demonstrate perfectly, and they will continue to do so after this has passed."
Yes, it would be easier to sink, but it wouldn't be right. And it wouldn't be fair to Spock either, because if he ever found out he'd be put in a horrible position... oh God, Spock could never know.
"James T. Kirk wishes to defend himself from these charges, your honour, and I would like to call him to the stand."
"Captain Kirk, please rise."
Very well. Now wasn't the time to doubt himself or his emotions. Now was the time to beat this thing. He knew where he stood, and it might not be the most dignified of places but it was there.
Jim walked over to the chair between the jury and the judge and climbed the two steps that led to it.
"Are you aware that your answers will be monitored for accuracy with the Veritas device?" Emerett asked while Jim plopped himself onto the seat.
"Yes, sir." He'd spotted it built into the platform when he'd been looking around the room.
"You may proceed, Miss Shaw."
The prosecution always got first turn, Moss had explained. But this was a good thing.
"Good evening, Mr Kirk," Areel said politely.
"I prefer Captain Kirk, if you don't mind, Miss Shaw," He replied with an equally polite smile. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Moss roll his eyes, but not angrily. The lawyer had said to act professional, but also to be himself, the exact words being: 'I've heard you can be charming when you want to. Get sympathy and respect and we've won this thing.'
Apparently, so far so good.
"Of course, my apologies. Well, Captain Kirk, let's get straight to the point, shall we?"
"Sure."
The question had been rhetorical and Jim knew that. Areel smothered her irritation well, but she was no Spock.
"Is there or has there ever been any sort of romantic involvement between you and Commander Spock?"
"No," Jim rasped, then coughed, his throat suddenly dry. He cleared it discreetly and tried not to grimace.
"Correct," came immediately.
Areel didn't seem surprised. It occurred to Jim right then that if she asked "Do you wish there was?" he had no answer for her.
Oh God.
"Are you emotionally compromised by Commander Spock?"
"No," Jim repeated.
"Correct."
"Captain Kirk… are you in love with Commander Spock?"
Jim felt his stomach clench uncomfortably, but before he could open his mouth to deny the accusation yet again Moss had stood up.
"Relevance, your honour?"
Emerett didn't reply at once, instead he looked at Areel.
"The question is very relevant," She said immediately. "We are talking about emotional compromise, are we not?"
"Whether this emotion is romantic in nature or not doesn't matter to this court, as you've just said yourself—" Moss replied patiently.
"If these officers have been engaged in a romantic relationship without disclosing it to the appropriate—"
"That is not a formal charge, therefore not up for discussion at this time, and it is in no way related to—"
"Your honour please, I beg for the indulgence of the court, since this question will prove its relevance once answered."
Jim felt light-headed, as though the room had begun to slowly spin. He blinked to try and clear his vision, but—
"Very well. Proceed, Miss Shaw."
"Thank you, your honour." Her voice turned a touch too sweet when she spoke next; "James?"
Jim tried to take a deep breath but only succeeded in feeling an uncomfortable choking sensation.
"Are you in love with Commander Spock?"
His pulse was pounding, he could barely draw air into his lungs… something was terribly wrong.
"I…"
Jim's insides gave a little flip and he felt a sudden bout of nausea. When he tried to breathe again his lungs burned, starved for oxygen.
"Are you in love with Commander Spock?"
The headache was throbbing painfully and there was something… there was something wrong with the air.
Areel coughed quietly. "Mr Kirk?"
"It's Captain," he snapped automatically, and stood up.
"Kirk! Sit down and answer the question," Commodore Barnett said loudly. But Jim had a very strong feeling of… it was danger, he could almost taste it.
"Captain Kirk!"
He recognised the signs in his body, the automatic tension, the buzzing in his head. He'd come to rely on his ability to spot trouble pretty heavily, since despite ages of advances in technology, gut-feelings were sometimes the only thing a Captain had left.
"There's something wrong with the air."
"You will be held in contempt of the court…!"
"Something's happening."
His eyes met Spock's and his First Officer gave a single nod.
"Captain Kirk is correct."
"What?" Areel looked like she was about to have an aneurysm, Jim thought dispassionately. "James Tiberius Kirk, if you do not answer the question you will be held—"
"Shup up, Miss Shaw." There was no time for niceties. "I think… I think—"
Suddenly there was an odd lurch in the room and Jim was propelled out of the stand, and head first onto the floor.
"Jim!"
Spock flew to his side in an instant. Too fast. Even for Spock.
But Jim was fine, he'd barely felt a bump, and his torso was floating off the floor, weightless.
"Is everyone okay?" He asked the room at large. There were a few nervous nods, but clearly people had begun to notice what was happening, and hands were gripping seats uneasily. Zero gravity wasn't exactly a wonderful soaring sensation or anything; mostly it gave Jim a severe headache and the urge to throw up.
"All right. Nobody panic, I'm pretty sure it's the gravity compensators messing around, and when I say I'm pretty sure I'm sometimes right half the time." He grinned cheekily even as he tried to calculate how bad the damage really was and assess the oxygen concentration in the air. "However, just in case, we should probably—"
"Captain Kirk," Barnett shouted, standing with difficulty and bobbing slightly in the air. "I believe I am the highest-ranking officer in this courtroom."
Answering with an 'Oops' (as was his first instinct) would have really irritated the man, but Jim could tell this really wasn't the time, so he ground his teeth together and said, "My apologies, sir."
He clutched Spock's sleeve and pulled him close; a very easy feat considering all it took was the slight pressure of his flexed arm and the half-Vulcan nearly crashed into him.
"Sorry. Listen Spock, I think we should really make sure the gravity failure is all that's happened. If one of the Main Stabilisers had blown this could be a serious problem. Temperature control takes longer to register."
"That is one possibility." Spock adjusted his grip so that he was clutching Jim's arm by the elbow instead of his wrist, and anchored them to the floor by holding on to the edge of the defense's bolted-down table (Mr Moss was suspended several feet in the air with a sort of resigned exasperation and seemed to be only half-heartedly trying to get back to his chair).
"However it is more likely that the incident on Rec Room F somehow precipitated these events. An inadequate bypass circuit might have caused a general gravity failure."
"Oh, you're right. And I prefer 'bad patch-up job' to 'Main Stabiliser problem.' That could've really fucked stuff up—"
Another jolt rocked the space, drowning out Jim's voice. They would have sailed upwards had Spock not clung to the table and prevented his Captain from hitting the ceiling.
Unfortunately for some of the other inhabitants, there was only one superstrong Vulcan in the room, and a chorus of startled cries and shouts started up again.
"Everyone please remain calm!" Emerett was saying loudly. "Stay at floor-level and keep still, please!"
Jim looked around to check on how Bones and the rest were doing, and to his satisfaction saw that Uhura had the doctor holding on to his chair while Scotty jumped around happily, instructing people to get back down in case gravity returned. Sulu was coming toward them.
"Chief Engineer Roberts has informed that the problem will be fixed soon, so if we just stay in this room there is no need to panic," Emerett said loudly, reading from a PADD and clutching his desk.
No one was actually panicking, though, it was just a rather poorly organised sort of mess.
"… Thanks, by the way," Jim murmured to Spock, gesturing to the large pale hand holding on to him with a rueful grin. He was now drifting horizontally a little above eye-level because Spock's arm was fully extended, probably to keep minimum contact between them.
"You catch me when I fall, you keep me from flying away… what else can you do?"
Spock remained standing on the floor, of course, looking for all the world like the only person who was unaffected by such mundane things as gravity.
"I can hardly keep you from flying away, Captain, for my metabolism is accustomed to a higher gravity than this one and I am therefore more likely to float."
He laughed. "Right. But you're stronger, so you get to look cool and—"
"Captain!"
Sulu whizzed past them and crashed into the judge's platform, then pushed himself off more carefully until he was more of less vertical, like Spock (Jim still hovering a few feet above them by Spock's arm).
"These guys have all had zero-grav training?" Was the first thing the pilot asked with a grin.
"In theory, yeah."
It seemed clear that most of the officers here were of the theoretical and academic branches, however, and unused to these situations. Areel, for example, was trying to gather all her datapads, which had floated upwards and kept hitting people on the head. The only people regarding the entire mess with some entertainment were most of the members of the jury, who had all managed to remain in their seats. A couple of them were looking Jim's way, actually, but he didn't have it in him to start worrying about what they'd think if they saw Spock tethering him down.
Sulu's smirk turned serious. "We should contact Main ourselves. Get Scotty up there to work these issues out. Their design is really bad."
Jim sighed, the action causing his throat to feel dry again. "I know." He coughed. "But until someone tells us whether this is happening everywhere or just on our Deck…"
"Chief Roberts here, folks. General gravity will be restored to Deck 16 in ten, nine, eight—"
"Oh shit!"
The loud metallic voice caused real chaos like nothing else had, as people near the ceiling struggled to get down and floating objects were shoved away from potential targets.
"—seven, six—"
"Sulu!"
But Sulu had managed to touch the ground with his feet and was already bracing himself.
Jim tried to twist around but couldn't see the others, there was too much going on. Most people seemed fine and low to the ground, but the potential for broken bones was still there if anyone accidentally moved last-minute.
"—five, four—"
Jim felt a powerful yank and crashed backwards into Spock, whose hand then shifted from Jim's upper arm to wrap around his waist and keep him in place. Completely unexpected as the contact was, arousal shot through him, curling at the base of his spine.
"—three, two—"
The warm tangle of limbs all around him, coupled with the effects of zero gravity and the surge of adrenalin, had Jim half-hard before he even knew what was happening.
He tried to push away at the last second, fumbling clumsily in his weightless state, but it was too late.
"—one."
With a heavy thud everything crashed down, including Jim.
On top of Spock.
On the desk.
…It was hell.
Plotty chapter is plotty! But also hopefully entertaining?
I feel like every chapter from this point on will be at least 7K long (and this baby is 8K)… *squints suspiciously at them* Hope there are no complaints, though ;D