SO! We're starting up our finale bbs! I... can't believe it! I also can't quite believe there's a fair bit of smut in here, I MEAN REALLY, we all know Jim's dirty-mouth is practically canon but what was I—
Hang on.
*blinks at the review count*
I... When did that...? Wait, huh?
*is speechless*
*flails silently*
*will probably continue to be speechless for quite some time*
Chapter Twenty-Two: Vitam Impendere Vero
"Offending you was not my intention, Doctor McCoy."
"Yeah, right."
"If you inferred some other meaning from a correctly-phrased statement of unambiguous intent it is not my—"
"It is so your damn intention, Spock—"
"You know, guys, this isn't exactly my idea of fun," Jim interrupted casually.
"This isn't anyone's idea of fun, Jim." McCoy snorted.
The hour for the verdict had been delayed a little and they were killing time until court resumed by hanging out at the main hall of the science station, before the greenhouse-like area of floral specimens began; the three of them around one of the large tables where many other science officers looked hard at work. It had, unsurprisingly, been Spock's suggestion.
...Well, Spock had said he was going to ensure his work was properly completed since they were leaving tomorrow and Jim had heard that for the plea for help that it was.
So far Spock had managed to insult the CMO several times in admirable succession, McCoy was getting increasingly irritated and grumbling a lot, and Jim was ignoring them both by pouring over his datapad and working on prepping to warp out. Ideally he'd be doing this by checking on his baby himself, but the Enterprise was still comfortably docked and he had no time to get there and back. Didn't do much to dampen the anticipation of seeing her again and getting the hell out of here.
So instead he worked through his trusted people; sending comms to get Scotty to prepare take-off procedures, keeping in contact with his Chief Security Officer and helping coordinate his crew's return to the ship by tomorrow morning, assigning first shifts and departure schedules, and quadruple-checking that the Enterprise was in perfect condition to resume her voyage and be assigned a new mission by morning...
With or without her first officer.
If the court ruled against the defense, Spock would have to stay here and await instruction from the Admiralty. Not that they would, Jim thought stubbornly.
"You are most welcome to leave, doctor. And I never claimed this activity was to be 'fun,'" Spock said, not taking his eyes off of the micro-sample analysis results he seemed very interested in.
"Of course you didn't, that would betray your secret oath to never have fun ever, right? Green-blooded—"
"Bones."
"Jim, I assure you Dr McCoy's repetitive and unimaginative insults do not—"
"Mr Spock?" a breathless female voice asked.
Jim looked up to find Leila Kalomi standing a few feet from their table, now fully recuperated since the accident, with a datapad clutched tightly in her grip.
Spock blinked at her. "Yes, Ensign?"
"I, ah, I was just wondering..." Jim's brain immediately went to alert at those words. "I-I was just, I heard you're leaving tomorrow, and, um, I just wanted to say..."
Poor thing. She was sweet, undoubtedly, and didn't know that she didn't stand a chance. Someone should tell her that it was pointless. Someone should make it clear to her that it was no use.
"Yes, Ensign?"
Spock was looking at her expressionlessly but McCoy didn't even have the decency for that; he was clearly diverted by the display.
"I greatly admire your work and even during your short stay here you've helped so much," she said in a tremulous rush. Her eyes glittered with hero-worship, and her blonde hair fell in elegant waves to her shoulders in a way that was probably against regulations inside a science lab. Jim felt a twinge of annoyance at just how sparkly-pretty she looked, but it was instantly drowned in pity when he heard her next words. "I was just wondering whether you might be available to talk sometime later today, about the project, I mean, if you're not too busy of course, I-I was just hoping you might..."
Spock set down the fine silver tongs that he'd been using to secure his sample, face unreadable in a way he'd only ever tried to look like with Jim a handful of times. Either he was closing off a very powerful emotional reaction or he wasn't sure how to react, and Jim was betting on the latter in this case.
"I thank you, Ensign Kalomi, yet I regret that that will not be possible," he said calmly, and yes, maybe a touch perplexed. "Until the verdict is issued I cannot be sure that I shall be leaving tomorrow, in which case preparations must be made for my departure. If I am to stay then that too shall require a considerable amount of work. My apologies."
Jim took that moment to appreciate the fact that no one in his crew had even thought to mention to him the fact that it would probably be smart to have someone ready as a back-up first officer.
"Oh. Of course. I'm so sorry, I never wanted to presume... of course you must be so busy, I'm sorry." She immediately ducked her head and started to shuffle away, blushing furiously. Spock stared at her retreating figure, now pretty obviously confused.
Jim leapt up from his chair and went after her.
"Jim?"
"You two can bicker without me, I'll be back in a sec."
She had rounded two corners, but he saw her enter a small greenhouse-like enclosure with tinted glass that was tucked at the very end of a long corridor three rows down and two across from where Spock had almost died. Jim followed her inside.
The room was tiny and lined with identical fluorescent-blue anemone-like plants that... pulsed every few seconds. The sudden change in lighting made him blink a little to adjust his vision after the fake sunlight from the main lab, but he was glad to immediately note that they were alone.
"Hey, Leila, you got a moment?"
Leila turned, startled. In spite of the darkness, the plants cast an intermittent blueish glow over her features. "Captain Kirk," she said nervously. "Can I help you? If you're looking for Mara, I think she's been meaning to talk to you since the accident—"
"No, that's not... I mean, I'll call her later. Thanks."
Jim bit the inside of his cheek for a second, trying to phrase his next few words carefully.
"Look, Leila, I know this isn't any of my business, but you seem like a really sweet kid."
She started. "Excuse me?"
"It's about Spock." He couldn't really see it in this light but Jim was sure her blush had returned full force, and she almost seemed to wince. "Feel free to tell me to go to hell for asking you this, but you like Spock, right?"
She stared at him for a very long moment, and finally gave a single, slightly terrified nod.
"Right. Well, I just wanted to..." To what?
To warn you, help you, make you understand, I've been where you are and apparently since I can relate to your situation it has given me a whole new point of view on the whole heartbreak deal, and I now know that that shit fucking hurts. So watch out, sweet girl, don't let this crush go any further, because I can't imagine what it must be like to know for certain that Spock will never love you back.
"... Uh, when he seems so serious, it's not that he doesn't... Spock is Vulcan. You know he doesn't mean—sometimes he doesn't completely get Humans. There's a very real chance he didn't realize you were, you know. And, well, even if he stays behind, he... Spock—"
"Oh yes, I know that," she interrupted quickly, eyes wide as though she desperately didn't want him to say the words. "Everyone knows, he said it in the courtroom didn't he? He had to admit that he loves you. That was awful, especially since, I mean, you'd already said that you didn't... you don't, do you?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Anyway, don't worry. I-I totally get it. Thanks for, you know, being kind about—"
His communicator beeped.
"Sorry," Jim said with a grimace. But an hour before the verdict, he wasn't about to ignore this call. He flipped it open. "Kirk here."
"Captain Kirk, this is Commodore Emerett. Come immediately to my offices."
Before Jim could get in a word the comm was cut off.
Dammit.
"Listen, Leila... I'm so sorry, but I've got to go."
"Of course!" She waved him away. "Good luck. I hope everything's all right. It was nice of you to worry about me."
"Thanks. And it's no problem, I just... well, bye."
He strode out of the little room and was immediately blinded by the light outside, but kept walking determinedly toward the entrance, where Spock was. After a few paces he started to run, trying not to let himself think.
They met halfway; he rounded a corner and there Spock was, going to find him.
"Commodore Emerett—"
"Yeah, me too—"
A shared nod and they were off, McCoy in tow with a concerned frown.
"What the hell's going on, Jim?"
"I have no idea."
The wide double-doors to the lab swished open and shut behind them, Spock's discarded station left untouched, his experiments unfinished.
"Did he say anything to you?"
"No. There was no clarification."
Jim fought the urge to break into a sprint again and instead walked as fast as his legs let him to the nearest turbolift.
"Do you think it's about the trial?" McCoy asked once they were inside.
"I hope so," Jim replied. Spock just stared firmly ahead.
"The hell do you mean, you hope so?"
He turned to face his friend. "If it's not about the trial it's about the person who's trying to kill us, and something tells me that wasn't a celebratory, you're-got-nothing-to-worry-about 'come immediately to my offices.' So yeah, I hope it's about the damn trial."
It took them less than five minutes to get there, and Jim tried to watch for signs of alert; Yeomen running around, maybe, or some sort of sixth-sense feel of danger, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Officers walking around, some talking casually, some serious and alone.
The three of them came to a halt before the Commodore's door and it swished open automatically.
The room was full of people, and suddenly there was actvity around them everywhere. Emerett sat at his desk, but beside him stood both Chief of Security Hayes and his deputy, Lieutenant D'Ko-Han, an emerald-skinned Orion woman with long brown curls and startling black eyes. Then there was the Head of Maintenance, the Chief Engineer, three more security officers Jim recognized, Chief Science Officer Wells, another couple of people he'd never seen before and... Mara Dalle.
"Captain Kirk."
Jim strode over to the Commodore's desk immediately, ignoring everyone else in the room for the time being.
"What's going on?" he demanded, pitching his voice over the background chatter.
"There's been a threat." The Commodore looked at him, hard, and Jim bit back a swear-word. Not the trial, then.
"Via?"
"Comm transmission, directly to my terminal."
"I'm assuming someone in here is working on tracing the hack?"
"Of course."
"So what kind of threat are we talking about here?"
Emerett didn't mince words. "I was ordered to kill you, Captain Kirk. To kill you and Commander Spock within the end of the day. Midnight."
"Midnight, really? Wow, the dramatic flair would be a touch more impressive if we had an actual sun and Earth-long days weren't—"
"Did you just hear what I said? They want you two dead."
"Yes, I was expecting that," Jim said, the forced casual tone of his voice and flip comments having caused several disapproving stares. "That's not a threat, that's the demand part. What was the threat?"
"Sabotage of hatches T-6 to W-4."
Shit. Shit. Specific, precise, clearly well planned, and absolutely deadly.
"You use the standard alpha-numerical assignations?" he asked, praying he was wrong.
"Yes."
It took Jim less than three seconds to do the math in his head.
"How's this place equipped on backup gravity generators? Life support?"
"Standard procedure, Kirk, but there must be some way to hack into the automatic backup mechanism—"
"No need to hack into the automatic system if you can fool the sensors, and hacking the sensors is a piece of cake compared to sabotage of the scale that it would take to compromise the hatch system. So yeah, no help from there, not in time, too dangerous."
Hatches A to R were auxiliary. Hatches S to Z were placed traditionally along decks around the Main power line to ensure stability and control over the life support systems. They weren't actual hatches; more like computer terminals that electronically communicated with the outside, feeding information to the gravity generators and environmental systems to keep them going and adjust their settings if necessary.
T-6 to W-4 were placed, according to Jim's quick calculations, as close to the Starbase's hotspots as possible, and distorting their feeds or even somehow causing them to stop functioning would mean death; certain and cold and black, death in space, silent like nothing else was.
"The entire Starbase will be incompatible with humanoid life," Spock said, voicing Jim's thoughts.
"Yes." Emerett motioned for someone behind them and Jim turned to see Mara Dalle, face pale and jaw set. "Tell them what you told me, Lieutenant."
"I was... look, I know a girl in engineering who told me the power-surge in Rec Room F might have been... not an accident." Her eyes darted to the side for a moment. "She said it's a rumor that's been going around there for a while and Mr Scott was having them look out for certain signs... anyway, she put two and two together and got twenty-two. So if it was on purpose, she said, maybe the grav muck-up on Deck 16, where the courtroom is, maybe that was on purpose too. And the only person who was there both times was you. So maybe... maybe you were the target."
"That's a lot of 'maybe's,'" Jim said carefully. He couldn't really tell where she was going with this. What new information she could give him that he hadn't already considered?
She gave Jim a searching look. "And then Mr Spock got poisoned right in front of me."
Jim didn't flinch, although the sudden memory shocked, felt like a taser to his stomach.
"So I called my brother, because he'd told me he was with you in Rec Room F. In fact, he told me he came in with you."
"Yeah." Jim remembered being about to visit the science deck but running into Lucas at the turbolift, being offered to hang out at the Rec Room instead.
"Well, see, the thing is that for a power-surge of that kind, so specific to one Deck, it needs a few minutes to build, right?"
"In theory, yes, but it could be explained by the state of your relays and the amount of power a Rec Room consumes."
"No, it couldn't. The state of our relays explains why they couldn't stand the overheat, but the power-surge itself was caused by someone who wanted to hurt you, right?"
"That's one theory. But the point of power-surges is exactly that they aren't controlled."
"An artificially created one would have to be," she snapped. "One designed specifically to happen where you'll be? Of course it had to be controlled! Extremely carefully."
"The odds of killing me by exploding computer screen are pretty ridiculous," Jim countered, unsure as to why he was arguing with her on this.
"Oh please. Don't tell me you believe in coincidences, Captain Kirk," Mara exploded, clearly exasperated. "The timing's all wrong! Did it never occur to you that if someone did that on purpose they'd have to know that you were going to be in that precise Rec Room at least ten minutes before you yourself decided it? Probably earlier, if they'd planned it. The timing's wrong, I am sure of it."
Commodore Emerett stood from his chair and leaned forward, hands on his desk.
"Do you remember who suggested visiting the Rec Room to you, Captain Kirk?"
Jim stared at them. "You're saying Lucas met me on purpose?"
"No, I'm not, it wasn't him. Whose idea was it, the first person to suggest it?"
Jim struggled to recall. "I..." For a moment he was almost convinced that it must have been Lucas himself. Except Mara was still looking at him steadily and she must already know it wasn't her brother; it would make no sense for her to turn her own brother in. They were testing him. Hoping he'd corroborate what she'd already said.
Maybe Lucas hadn't been the one to come up with the idea? Jim pictured it again; he'd been in the turbolift and Lucas had been with three other guys, two gold-shirts and a blue-clad officer who... "Yeah. Actually, there was this guy, from the science station. A friend of Lucas'. I... don't really remember his name." He did remember the guy hitting his head on the edge of a table, bleeding down the side of his face. Not unattractive, seemingly charming enough. "Might have started with an 'A.'"
"Alex."
"Alex. Yeah, he might have been the first one to offer." In fact, now that he thought about it, he was sure. Science Guy had been the one.
"Science officer Alex Danvers?" Spock asked.
"You know him?"
"He's worked with me and my lab-partner a couple of times," Mara said. "I introduced him to Mr Spock the day he got that accidental burn."
"Arrest him, hold him for questioning," Emerett snapped at his Chief of Security.
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant D'Ko?"
The Deputy Chief was out of the door seconds later with two guards at her heels.
"So what happens with the trial now?" McCoy asked Emerett.
"The longer we stay here the longer we're a danger to you, and the more lives this psycho has to threaten us with," Jim pointed out.
"If you leave, we're all dead," Emerett said flatly. "That much was made clear to me on the message. If you try to escape, we're all dead. If you do anything out of the ordinary, we're all dead. The reason I was able to call you and tell you this now is that I've gotten Ensign Falco over there to shut down the public-access to the locator program."
"Oh, good idea," Jim said, thinking that this was all just fine unless the person who wanted them dead had the right security clearance. Still, he nodded thanks at Ensign Falco; a too-thin, slightly ill-looking young man with a mop of dark hair in the far corner of the office. "All right then, how the hell could someone rig the hatch system? They are near impossible to open without the proper authorization codes and fingerprint- and voice-recognition. Even an attempted sabotage would sound the alarm."
"My Chief Engineer is checking their status, and I asked your Mr Scott to assist him."
"Okay. Okay, then what's our next move?"
There was a tight silence.
"Obviously you and Commander Spock must come to no harm, but for the time being I need you to act as though nothing's wrong," the Commodore said finally.
Jim frowned. "We have ten hours left before the deadline."
"Alerting the entire Base will cause a panic."
"I'm not saying we tell everyone, but surely the trial can be delayed for now."
"Let my security men handle this, Captain Kirk. You cannot be seen as acting any different—"
"There are over a thousand lives at stake here," Jim said. "We need as many people as possible on this, surely."
"We don't know who issued the threat and for as long as we can contain this, we will. It would be careless to let them know we're fighting back right now."
"It's incredibly naive to think they won't have figured that already! Come on, if this person checks the locator just once they won't think it's an incredibly unlucky circumstance, they'll know you're onto them."
"You two are the ones they'll be watching."
Spock stepped forward. "The person who planned our deaths works at this Starbase, Commodore. You just admitted to ignorance on their identity. On what facts, then, do you base your belief that they are not among your security team, who have already been alerted?"
Emerett's jaw clenched tightly, and he didn't seem to have a satisfying answer to that.
"They could have come with your ship," someone from the background said, kind of resentfully.
Jim snorted. "No one is that stupid. To wait for us to come to a Starbase and then strike? No way."
And suddenly an idea hit him.
Except... no. No, it was too much, too far-fetched... But a plan of this magnitude... to prepare it in time, it wasn't possible. The timing's wrong, Mara had said.
"The timing..."
How... how would they know he and Spock would be at Starbase Theta, how could they be sure? Jim himself found out a week before... not enough time to plan something this big. A week? No way. But then how had they known?
"The timing's wrong," he muttered. "Oh my—Spock, the trial."
"What?" Emerett said sharply.
Spock was looking at him, as was Mara and everyone else in the room. And in that moment Jim decided to keep his theory to himself, at least for the time being. It felt too fragile and, well, insane to actually voice aloud. They had other concerns anyway.
"Nothing. Nothing, I just... you want us to behave and go through the motions? For how long?"
"Give my men two hours to interrogate this science officer and see what we can get out of him. The trial should be over by then."
Jim wanted to argue, wanted to fight, but as much as his instincts screamed at him that doing nothing essentially meant being a useless waste of space, he really couldn't fault Emerett's logic. They... they could spare a couple of hours. This Alex guy was the only lead they had, and Jim knew, objectively, that if he and Spock were the targets there was no way he was getting into that interrogation room with the suspect. Plus, getting the trial over and done with would help. It would be one less thing to worry about... as long as the verdict was in their favor.
"Fine. Two hours. This thing resumes in thirty minutes, right?"
"Yes. I'll be there soon."
Jim took that for the dismissal that it was and, with a nod at Emerett and a look at Mara, exited the room with Spock and McCoy.
"What're we gonna do if we have no new information in two hours, Jim?" The doctor asked the second the door had shut behind them.
"Worry about it then," Jim replied grimly, picking a direction and striding to the nearest turbolift. "Meanwhile, this thing can't go public."
His seemingly random segue had McCoy frowning.
"Public as in the entire universe or public as in the entire Starbase? Because I don't want people hurt either but there's press here and, well, do you have any idea how popular you are right now? If it got out that you've been threatened... I mean, if Starfleet split you two up after that they would be the bane of the Federation! Couldn't it help? It just makes you seem like victims, like—"
"Martyrs," Spock interjected.
Jim cut a glance at him. "You know the definition of 'martyr' usually implies the person has to actually die."
Spock's jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. "Precisely."
Clearly he and Spock were on the exact same wavelength about this. The timing's wrong.
"I have a feeling 'public' is exactly what this person wants."
There was a communicator beep and a badly-stifled curse from McCoy.
"That's the Sickbay," he said. "Dammit, Jim, I'm sorry—"
"Go."
"I'll try to make it for the verdict," his best friend said, firm.
Jim clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Go."
McCoy broke into a run and soon was lost around a corner.
Jim stopped walking and turned to face Spock. A little part of him (a part that sounded suspiciously like Mr Moss) was yelling at him that they were in plain view and being careless, standing too close, looking too intimate—
But then he thought: At this point? Screw it.
"The only reason we were allowed to go in there and this entire structure didn't blow up is that they must be so sure of their ability to follow through that they don't mind us finding out we're going to die."
He spoke in a measured, reasoned tone, but there was flat finality in his words.
"Yes," Spock said simply.
Jim didn't feel the need to confirm that they were both on the same page as to his suspicion about the trial. It could be dealt with later, when they weren't running for their lives. Again.
"We should go."
They didn't exchange a single word for the entire turbolift ride, not until they were on the correct Deck and walking towards the courtroom.
Twenty minutes left.
"Wait."
Jim caught Spock's silver-lined sleeve (they had already dressed in their formal things) and tugged gently, a sudden impulse seizing him and making him stop.
"Wait," he said again, and motioned another way with his head. The doors to the courtroom were open and several of the journalists were outside, including Stavok, who was standing quietly in a corner with one of his Human companions holding a laser-camera.
Jim led Spock on an opposite direction, away from the people, towards another room. The room. Their room. The room where Spock had mind-melded with him for the first time.
"Jim, what—"
"There's time."
It was empty and as large as he remembered, the huge table still taking up most of the space. Jim had a flash of memory—Spock pulling him to the edge by grabbing his ankles—and quenched it.
"Jim, we cannot be late."
"Twenty minutes is not enough time to talk, I know that," Jim said defiantly. His heart thumped, loud and bruising. He wasn't going to force anything or make the first move because he wanted to respect that Spock's emotions must be hard enough to deal with right now, but he also wasn't going to back away.
Spock took his hand and dragged two fingers down Jim's palm.
"Are you being considerate?" he asked, soft and almost playful; but there was a dark, serious edge to his question.
"Maybe," Jim replied, just as quiet.
Spock lifted Jim's hand to his lips and kissed a finger-pad with infinite care.
"Thank you for being as you are, t'hy'la."
"That's the third time you've called me that," Jim noted. He instantly had the urge to clear his throat; his voice had sounded so deep and rough. "I know some Vulcan but I don't know that word."
Spock let go of his hand and kissed him on the lips, burying a hand in Jim's hair just like he'd done last time, tugging at the strands with enough force for it to hurt. His body felt hard and unyielding, a tense line, held together by hope, like something that would shatter if Jim let it go. What...? Jim kissed back, letting things turning deep and frantic in seconds, wanting to reassure Spock, to take away this sudden emotion. Spock thrust his tongue deep and nipped at Jim's lips only to lick the sting away, claiming and desperate as though... as though this was fleeting.
He was... he was kissing him like Jim was something he'd already lost.
"No," Jim growled, pulling back. "No. This isn't over. Nobody's dying and nobody's going away on my watch, you hear?"
Spock kissed him again, eyes squeezed shut when Jim opened his.
Enough.
Jim grabbed the hem of Spock's pants and shoved his hand inside, effectively making the Vulcan freeze.
"Oh, now you're listening."
Jim pushed Spock up against the wall using both hands; one at the center of his chest, fingers splayed like he was marking property, and the other, well... the other was also pressing forward, merciless.
"Believe me," Jim begged, stroking up and down Spock's shaft in a way that probably looked soothing, but was designed to have the opposite effect.
Spock's head met the wall with a muffled thunk. Jim slowly increased his strokes and saw with satisfaction as Spock's hips moved the slightest bit up, trying to follow the rhythm.
"You've gotta believe me, 'kay?"
Spock didn't answer and... he was still incredibly tense. Oh, he was letting Jim do this, sure, but he wasn't really participating. Except in the obvious way, his whole focus seemed to be devoted to the effort of keeping it together. His eyes were closed again, a tiny line between slanted eyebrows betraying his anguish.
"Spock. You could be stopping me right now, but you're not."
Jim kissed him and Spock kissed back, the need with which he did so betraying him too. The Vulcan's tendons were starkly outlined under his skin and he was near trembling with the effort.
Jim bit his ear and whispered into it: "This once, Spock, this one time... let go."
Spock made a deep, short sound and shuddered, but didn't relax; only closed up tighter, jaw clicking shut audibly. The little frown-line got more pronounced.
"Let go," Jim said again, more forceful. His hand sped up and his grip on Spock tightened, precome slicking the way. Spock's hips gave another aborted little rut.
"Always being in control, always in command? That's not good, Spock. Not if it gets you like this, not when it's like this. You're supposed to keep in check and I get that, but not if it's at the cost of your sanity, yeah?"
Spock made the sound again but this time slightly higher, more pained, and Jim echoed it in sympathy, felt his trapped erection leak a drop of hot liquid at the sight of Spock defeated like this even as he realized it was sick to like it. But... but Spock looked helpless. For fucking once, Spock looked entirely undone. About to break apart. About to fucking lose it.
He gave Spock's neck a soft, apologetic bite, not deep enough to leave a mark.
"This goes both ways, you know. Sometimes I need it, yeah, but you do too. I can tell you need this now. Come on. For me, Spock. Come on."
Even last night, during his first time, when being unsure would have been normal, expected... Spock hadn't let go. It was catching up. Everything must be catching up on him. And Jim was winning this round. Jim was getting his wish watching as Spock unwound before his very eyes, watching Spock crumble.
"Come on."
"Jim, I—" he sounded afraid, curled long fingers around the fabric covering Jim's neck and shoulder and clenched them, as though he was holding on. Their foreheads pressed together.
"Let me," Jim said.
Spock's hips started to follow his movement, and his lips parted, almost as though disbelieving that something could feel this good. Jim felt himself smile ferally.
"That's it. I wanna see you, come on, wanna see you all pliant for me."
Spock grunted, and smacked his head against the wall again. Jim growled in satisfaction and dropped to his knees, not letting the rhythm of his hand falter as he sensed Spock getting close.
"Gods, Spock, if I could, if I had the time to spread you on that table and eat you out until your knees trembled I would." Spock shuddered and slid a hand through Jim's hair for purchase. "If I had time to lick and suck and lather your gorgeous cock with the attention it deserves I would, come on, come for me—"
Spock did, and it was beautiful. His back arched and his eyes flew open, mouth gaping as he panted in broken breaths, and Jim could only stare, absolutely fascinated. He had closed his mouth around the head to take it down his throat but he kept his eyes wide open so as not to miss a second of it.
Spock swore something deep and guttural that was definitely Vulcan, and finally seemed to settle for melting against the wall, his knees locked to avoid falling.
Jim pulled away gently and hummed. "You taste fucking amazing," he said, honestly.
Spock exhaled like the breath had been punched out of him.
"You... you are..."
"The best Captain ever?" Jim asked with a grin. He could still feel his throbbing pulse and a buzzing need at the base of his spine, but figured they had time for him to quickly take care of himself in the bathroom. He couldn't expect Spock to... this had been about Spock.
"That too," Spock said, his wrecked voice sending tendrils of heat through Jim. Jesus Christ, he loved that voice.
"Feel a bit better?" he asked.
Spock lifted Jim up by yanking him by the collar of his shirt and intertwined their fingers, a warm current passing through them.
"There are eleven minutes left," he said, like a confession.
Jim gulped. "Wow, it kind of hurts my feelings that you still know the exact time—"
Spock effectively shut him up by sliding sinuously to his knees.
"H-holy shit," Jim breathed. "Spock, you don't have to—"
"Be quiet."
Fuck. He sounded... impatient. Jim shivered and braced his arms against the wall in front of him.
This was going to be over embarrassingly fast.
Spock pulled him out of his black pants and didn't waste time in licking, experimentally. His tongue was impossibly hot and Jim's very bones liquefied and sloshed around inside his body, out of his control. He was so hard. He felt ready to fly apart any second.
Spock curled a hand around his base and sucked, slow, oh-so-agonizingly-slow at first, and then faster, burning hot, it was so burning hot inside his mouth, Jesus, scorching and wet and welcoming, an easy slide in and out with just the dangerous hint of teeth that was way too good, and then Spock hummed and Jim had to bite his lip bloody to stop himself from crying out as he came, white light behind his eyelids and the world tilting on its axis.
"F-fuck," he panted, knees buckling so he dropped to the floor, face-level with Spock. He wrapped his arms around his Vulcan immediately and buried his face in the curve of Spock's neck. "Love you," he mumbled, still orgasm-hazy enough that it didn't feel too mortifying.
Spock copied his gesture and breathed deep.
"Six minutes."
"Yeah yeah, all right, I was faster than a high-schooler, thanks a lot, totally doesn't count 'cause you—"
"The trial, Jim."
"... I know."
They pulled away from each other. Jim could still feel lazy aftershocks of pleasure floating through him, but he needed to be back now. This had been... this had probably been about the dumbest thing they could have done with their time but it had felt so right, he couldn't really bring himself to regret it.
"You go first," Spock said. His hair looked surprisingly decent. His cheeks were flushed green, though. "I shall wait a couple of minutes and—"
"Do you really think it's gonna change anything? Whether we come in together or not, and this stage?"
Spock paused. Jim lifted a shoulder. "I say we show up together and let them deal."
"Mr Moss will not be pleased."
"Exactly."
x
"Good evening. All communicators and electronic devices must be turned off and, as we all know, no recording equipment save the official log is allowed in this courtroom."
It was the last time those words would be spoken, and Jim wished he could feel something more like relief. His throat was dry and his lungs burned.
Commodore Emerett waited the expected beat of silence for his command to be followed and a hushed silence soon swept over the room. It was the sound of anticipation.
"This court is now in session. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, upon deliberation, have you reached a unanimous verdict?"
A man at the corner stood up from his seat and walked over to lean down and speak into a small microphone. He wore a command-gold vest. Maybe he was a Captain. Jim had caught his eye a couple of times, but the man wasn't among the jurors who'd sometimes smiled at him indulgently or even seemed amused by any of Mr Moss' jokes.
"We have, your honor."
He had a datapad in his hands. Jim realized his future was sort of contained in that flat smooth case, written on that screen, and every one of the twelve Starfleet members knew it. He felt dizzy.
"Proceed."
"We, the jury—"
"Wait!"
Every head in the room swiveled around to stare at... Uhura?
She'd stood up in her seat, arms rigid by her sides, and her jaw was set.
"My apologies, your honor, everyone, but am I the only one who feels dizzy?"
"Are you serious?" Areel exclaimed, rising as well.
"I think the gravity is malfunctioning again," Uhura said.
Sulu stood beside her and nodded (McCoy hadn't made it). "I agree."
"If this is some kind of ploy..." Emerett began, red-faced with fury, but Jim was starting to recognize the signs as well, and he could tell he wasn't the only one. A faint smell of ozone and a mounting headache were good indicators. People started murmuring amongst themselves, the sounds increasingly fearful. Another gravity failure during court? Once had been bad enough, but twice was damn unlikely.
Jim prayed it wasn't because the hatches had been sabotaged early.
Clearly Emerett had had the same thought because he leapt for his communicator right when there was a strange sort of pressure against Jim's temples, and then his ears popped. He winced, and saw Spock catch him at it. But Moss had winced too, so it was probably a Human hearing thing.
"Raise your arms if you are experiencing any symptoms," called the security guard by the door.
Almost everyone raised their hands, and the rumble started to grow panicked. It was getting worse. Jim sucked in a breath and felt the air resist, almost as though he was trying to inhale against a current.
"Hold on to something and calm down, it might just pass without—"
The chairs weren't bolted to the floor but the table was, so Jim, Spock and Moss all grabbed it in near unison. And it wasn't a second too soon.
The lurch was just as bad as last time, only this time Jim didn't fly halfway across the room. He clung to the wooden support and felt Spock grip his bicep, grounding him, and a few moments later it had passed and his body was floating above his seat. His gut rolled as nausea seized him.
Shouts and gasps sounded all around them as the air filled with people coughing and cursing.
"Everybody remain where they are, please, this will be corrected soon," the Commodore said reassuringly from two feet higher than he should be, listening intently to his comm. The jury-member who'd been about to recite the verdict had been tethered to the floor by two others, a grey-haired man and an attractive older woman, both clutching his knees. Other than him, though, people had had enough of a warning and sense to grab their things.
"What the hell is wrong with the life support lately?" Another jury member asked Emerett.
But the Commodore wasn't paying attention.
"Yes, thank you," he said into his communicator. "Get Gibson on it, if you have to. The second we reset it I'm on my way over here."
"What's going on?" someone asked.
"I thought this problem had been fixed," someone else commented.
Jim had turned to look back at Uhura and Sulu again, which was why he saw the doors open first.
It was slow going, obviously because the mechanism was designed to freeze in cases like this, but eventually the figure standing outside was visible.
"Leila?"
Wide-eyed and terrified-looking, Leila Kalomi pushed herself through the door, no longer in her bottle-green coveralls but instead wearing black from head to toe, like Jim liked to do in his off-duty hours around the ship if he wasn't wearing his command uniform.
"Help!" she called. "Help, please!"
Behind her the crowd of the press were floating in the air, an indistinct shape of cameras that immediately started flashing.
"What the—"
"Ensign Kalomi, what is the meaning of this?" Emerett called, turning off his comm.
"How did you open the doors?" Uhura asked her. Leila turned towards the Lieutenant and as she did so her blonde hair flowed around her face in silky strands, shimmering in mid-air because of the lack of gravity, making her look strangely ethereal.
"I don't know!" she cried. "I just pressed the emergency entrance code and they opened!"
The doors ground shut behind her and suddenly Jim felt... uneasy.
"What's happened? Why do these things keep happening? The whole Deck is float!" she looked like she was seconds away from bursting into tears. 'Float' was another way of saying gravity failure, of course. "I don't understand, please, what's going on...?"
"Calm yourself, Ensign," the Commodore called all the way down the room. "The situation is under control."
And that was when Jim realized what was off about the situation.
Her feet were perfectly resting on the ground.
"Actually Commodore, it's not."
She grinned and pulled two phasers from her belt.
"Everybody shut up and stay where they are! These are set to 'kill', not 'stun'."
Holy shit.
She looked nothing like the shy, stuttering young girl Jim had met before. Her entire posture had changed; shoulders squared and head held high and proud, feet set apart in a firm stance and the two phasers in her hands comfortably handled.
She was... she was the one who wanted them dead?
No one moved or said a word. Uhura was still standing in her seat, held in place by Sulu beside her, and Leila looked at her first.
"You. Sit."
Uhura did as she was told, immediately lowering herself down with the help of the people around her but not taking her eyes off the girl, even after she'd managed to anchor her body to the bench.
"One move and I start shooting, so nobody move and nobody gets shot, okay?"
She really was ridiculously young, Jim thought incredulously, young and slight and slightly less dangerous-looking than a puppy, even though right now the expression on Leila's face was anything but innocent, and the phasers in her hands made her much more fearsome for it.
"Also no comm messages." She bit her lip. "Actually, you know what? I can't say I trust a room full of enlisted officers with that, so..."
She pointed one phaser straight at Uhura's chest and with the other hand took out a little black device from her pocket. It was no bigger than a keychain like the ones Jim's mom had in their Earth home.
"This is a scrambler. No calls for you."
Instantly, Jim heard a crackle against his hip and knew his comm was dead.
"Now. Where's Spock?" she demanded, craning her neck to look toward the front. Jim felt the grip Spock had on him ease as Spock managed to stand. He tried to follow but Spock pushed on his shoulder hard enough to bruise, and didn't let him up.
"Spock, no—"
"There you are!"
She grinned again and, coupled with the floating halo of hair and wide blue eyes, it gave her the look of a slightly deranged angel in tight-fitting black.
"And of course Captain Kirk is with you," she added, snorting. "When is he not, right? Isn't that what this whole thing is about? Deciding whether—"
Suddenly she twisted around with more agility than should be possible in zero-G and shot the security guard who'd been reaching for his weapon.
He didn't even fall to the floor; his body slammed against the wall and then sort of stayed there, suspended in mid-air, grotesque and horrifying and undoubtedly dead.
"I said nobody move," she snapped.
"What do you want?" Jim asked loudly, as boldly as he could.
She narrowed her eyes and walked very slowly down the aisle between the rows of benches. Every eye followed her movements, but nobody tried to stop her. Good. These people were smart, and knew how crazy it would be to try and disable someone who was so clearly off the deep end.
"For now? I want Spock."
Leila drew level with them and pointed both of her phasers at Jim and Spock's chests.
"Touch him and I'll kill you," Jim growled.
"Nope, I don't think you will."
She cocked her hips and pursed her lips. Jim ran his eyes over her clothes and realized why she was walking about so easily; her boots were lined with some sort of heavy metal and her black suit was buzzing very faintly, clearly powered by some sort of anti-grav tech he wasn't used to seeing outside of deep space travel.
"Mr Spock, if you don't come with me right now I'm going to tear a hole through Captain Kirk's chest."
"I will come," Spock said immediately. "Do not harm him."
"See? That was super easy. You two are definitely guilty as far as I'm concerned."
She looked over her shoulder at the jury stand and smirked.
"Am I right or what?"
"What the hell do you want with us?" Jim asked. She obviously didn't want them dead (not yet, anyway) or she would have just shot them right then. Still, he needed a bit of time to come up with a better plan than the half-formed idea he had in his head right now. He was not letting her leave here with Spock. Nobody was taking Spock from him.
"Not 'us.' Him," she corrected. "You're cute, but I have no use for you just yet."
"What—"
"How stupid do you think I am, Kirk? When it's time for you to know, you'll damn well know, I assure you."
She grinned again.
"Now. I'm gonna do my best to forget the little conversation we had earlier today, you condescending jackass... and if you shut that pretty mouth and stand very still I won't kill your boyfriend's ex, okay?"
Jim didn't let his eyes flicker to check on Uhura. She was a big girl, she could handle threats like these. He did, however, note that while Leila was threatening Spock with him, she wasn't doing the reverse. Which meant there was no way she was killing Spock.
He opened his mouth to answer but Leila shook her head and charged the phaser to shoot.
"Just nod," she said.
Jim did, slow and reasoned.
"Good. Mr Spock, I want you to get to the door and don't do anything else, okay? Kirk is relatively expendable to me and I know how you hate to see him get hurt, so I'm thinking you'll do exactly as I say or I'll carve out his left eye."
"With what?" Jim scoffed.
Leila whirled on him, expression scornful. "You're, like, seconds from being murdered and I just told you to shut up. Do you have a deathwish or something?"
But as he'd known she would, she didn't shoot him. She needed him for leverage with Spock.
For now.
"FYI, I have a knife in my belt," she added, scowling.
"Good for you."
He just needed her mad enough so that he had a chance to reach for her suit. There must be some way of causing an electrical short-circuit of that fancy piece of equipment and disable her just in time to take her weapons. He just needed—
"Stop it," Leila snapped. "You know who's totally expendable to me right now, Kirk? Every single other person in this room."
She shot the wall behind him and left a neat, laser-carved hole between two jurors. A little to the right or to the left and they would have died.
Jim shut up.
"Good boy. Now, Commodore."
Emerett was staring at her as though he'd never seen her before in his life.
"Since I have no doubt you managed to dial the silent alarm in your comm before I shut them off, I'm thinking I might kill you later, just because. Mr Spock, to the door."
Spock turned to look at Jim one last time, face locked and inhumanly blank, and then started to move, his limbs in the gravity-free air impossibly graceful.
A voice sounded inside Jim's head then, soft and slightly echoing.
Do not attempt to stop her. She will kill you, I can sense it from her.
No. No.
He wasn't sure how he was doing it but somehow, by sheer stubbornness maybe, he blindly broadcasted his thoughts to Spock as loudly as he could.
Jim. You will be risking the lives of everyone in this room. She is not going to kill me.
Not yet! I can't—you can't—I can't let her take you—
If there is another way, you will find it. I trust you.
Jim clenched his jaw and something inside of him snapped off. Spock propelled himself along by pushing off the table and then carefully drifting forward and Jim was left behind, holding on to his chair to remain on the ground and powerless, no, he couldn't let this happen, he was Captain James Tiberius Kirk and he didn't believe in no-win—
"Mr Spock will live as long as the Commodore follows my earlier instructions and kills James Kirk before midnight tonight. That's my final offer."
Leila pointed the phaser at Emerett's slightly bulging belly.
"You can try to look for me. Feel free, I mean. This 'base's computer location software is a joke."
She kept the other one trained on Jim as she started to back away, her eyes darting from the Commodore to the Captain back and forth.
"But those hatches are gonna blow and when they do, everyone here is dead in seconds. Don't think you'll have time to pile up on the Enterprise and warp out of here. She's the only vessel you've got that's even close to large enough, right? A pretty thing, to be sure, but not ready by tonight, I don't think."
She had reached Spock by the double doors, and foolishly had her back to him. But her aim had already proven to be extremely good, and she was the only person in the courtroom who could move faster than anyone else.
"Oh, and Mr Spock?" Her voice lowered, became more casual. Still, in the complete silence, every word carried.
Jim itched to stand up, for fuck's sake to fight, but not throwing up was already taking an incredible effort and he knew that if he moved he was as good as dead, and condemning Spock too.
"If you try to attack my mind telepathically I won't miss again."
All the way from the other end of the room and still Jim caught the flash of panic in Spock's eyes at her words as his Vulcan understood them for the threat they were, seconds before it was carried out.
"No—"
And then she fired the phaser right at Jim's chest.
x
He woke up in the Sickbay with a searing pain on his right pectoral and the sweet-metallic taste of blood in the back of his throat.
"She took him," he croaked immediately, before he'd even opened his eyes. "Bones, she took him, she took Spock and now he's—"
"Whoa, whoa, kid, you need to calm down right now!"
He didn't recognize this voice. It wasn't Bones. There was an insistent beeping that was probably indicating his heart-rate was shot but he didn't care, half his heart had been ripped away anyway and his head hurt like someone had smashed a Klingon battle-axe through it, like he'd already gotten used to having Spock around in his mind and now Spock was gone and Jim was alone again, alone and powerless and useless, worse than useless because he was going to die and it was going to be for nothing, fucking nothing—
"Dammit Jim, snap out of it!"
He felt a firm hand grip his forearm and opened his eyes, blinking in the sudden light.
"Bones?"
"Of course me. Now take a deep fucking breath and calm your heartbeat, dammit, or you're going to kill yourself."
Jim did as he was told and noted how his chest felt constricted, painful and tight.
"Leila blew a hole through your right lung," McCoy said. He was standing next to the bed; behind him was the male nurse who'd once grimaced at Jim's worry over Spock when Spock had been the one in here. "We did some emergency surgery and you're gonna be fine but there is no way I'm letting you move—"
Jim sat up, taking his bearings. His chest was bandaged and he had another tube in his arm.
"Lie back down, you idiot—"
His ears rang and his vision took a couple of seconds to adjust, but the second it had he was swinging his legs over the bed. It was another private room, so much like the others that he wasn't sure whether they'd already been here or not. There was a security guard on the door and two nurses, besides McCoy, standing next to his bed.
"Jim, no...!"
"Don't even try," Jim snapped. "Just don't. Where's Emerett? What's happening?"
"I'm not high-ranking enough to be in the—"
"Tell me what's going on, Bones."
There was a moment—and it was fleeting and gone soon and irrelevant because it didn't much have to do with saving Spock—when Jim considered the fact the he was doing it again. He was scaring McCoy just like he had the last time he'd landed them in this mess.
"I'm sorry," he added belatedly. "I'm sorry, Bones, but I need to know."
"All they've told me for now is that she's somehow disappeared, she killed three journalists when she left the room and they've got teams openly searching the base but so far no one's found Leila yet. Commodore Emerett ordered a state of yellow alert and informed everyone of Spock's abduction via intercom, but the deadline is only rumor as far as everyone else is concerned; they've decided not to disclose it yet. The press got a hold of the threat to you, though, so that's got the galaxy in an uproar. ETA for Starfleet reinforcements is in three days."
"How long have we got 'till midnight?"
"Two hours."
"What?"
He flung the covers off of him and stood. It felt like slicing a knife clean through his skull and the pain momentarily blinded him, but soon that, too, faded.
"Jim, you can't do this, okay? You're going to be all right as long as—"
"Listen to me." He knew he sounded impatient. This was time wasted, time thrown away not running to help in the search for Spock.
The two nurses were gaping at him as though he was insane for even daring to stand up.
"I'm not going to be... fucking hell, Bones, if we can't find Spock in under two hours I'm going to have to kill myself to save over a thousand people and then who will look for—" he cut himself off, the possibility too much. He would save Spock. He would. "Bones, look at me."
McCoy did. He was slightly taller than Jim and despite his apparently gruff manner the doctor's eyes had always been deep-brown and warm. He met Jim's unflinching gaze instantly.
"Jim. Please. For once, just... please. You're going to hurt yourself," McCoy said sadly. Almost resigned.
Jim nodded. "I know. I need you to get this. I know already. But I can't..." He swallowed, shook his head, huffed out a breath and wanted to offer up his life, his ship, everything he had to Leila if it would make her let Spock go.
"I don't understand how to live without him, okay?"
His best friend stared at Jim for a long moment. And then...
"Okay."
The female nurse drew in a gasp
"Yeah?"
"Okay, let's get him back, then."
"Thank you."
To the utter shock of the other two people in the room, McCoy threw Jim's dirty, discarded dress uniform at him (laser-shot hole, blood and all) and removed the saline drip from his hand. They ran out the door two minutes later, and Jim headed straight for the Commodore's office, ignoring the stares his undoubtedly ragged appearance drew.
While he ran he let his brain churn over the information he had.
Leila had taken Spock, despite the fact that at the time they'd still been nine hours away from the deadline. Why? What did she want with Spock that she hadn't gotten yet, and why was Jim left alive if he was only going to be killed in two hours?
Priorities. Focus, Kirk.
He was leverage. The best bargaining chip to make Spock do anything Leila wanted, including hide from any search parties that might be looking for him. Except... Jim had no idea what Leila wanted. She seemed to be contradicting herself. The initial terms of the threat had been to have the authorities of the base kill Jim and Spock because she couldn't seem to quite manage that herself, but after all that painstaking trouble she'd gone to not to be discovered before she'd just shown up in the middle of the freaking courtroom, exposed herself and let everyone see her face, and taken Spock. Plus, she had two perfectly clear shots and hadn't taken them.
So clearly this wasn't just about them dying anymore. Maybe it had never been about that.
Jim knew there must be a larger pattern he was overlooking, a simpler solution that he just hadn't seen yet, but it wasn't presenting itself. Nothing made any sense whatsoever. Leila had implied he'd be of use to her later, as well, and he just didn't see how that was possible. What was she after? To him it seemed like her objectives kept changing.
And how big was this damn place that they hadn't found Spock yet after six hours?
"Jim, over here."
McCoy led him into a turbolift and when Jim went inside he got jabbed by two hypo-needles at the same time.
"Shit, ow—"
"If you're gonna insist on acting like a suicidal maniac the least I can do is make it hard for you to die, idiot," the doctor said.
Jim rubbed his sore neck and felt mildly better, although Spock was still gone.
The ride felt long and Jim kept running things over in his head. Leila suddenly deciding she'd, what, had enough waiting? The threat. The reason he and Spock hadn't been killed when she had the chance. All of the other failed attempts.
The failed attempts...
Hang on.
"Bones?"
"Yeah."
"If you wanted to kill someone without being suspect, how would you do it?"
"I..." McCoy blanched. "I don't know, Jim, I've never really—"
"Okay, forget that. But you wouldn't... look, think about it. The first time, the exploding Rec Room. Not only did I not die, nobody did. That wasn't a murder attempt."
"...Okay."
"The gravity failure wasn't an attempt either. It was fixed seconds later and, again, no one died from it. Just a grav failure."
"Right."
He was... he was starting to get something.
"Then there was that third time. The poison. Deadly, acid, sure, painful as fuck and making for some ugly wounds... but all it took was running to the next fucking room. The interconnecting door wasn't locked. And a paralyzing toxin would have been far more difficult to escape."
"Yes."
"And then there's Spock's poisoning. She was there. She nearly died too. But she had the antidote with her, and she had to know they'd use it for both of them."
"Jim... what are you saying?"
"I'm saying we might have had this all wrong the entire time," Jim said. The turbolift dinged open and they emerged onto an empty corridor. He registered the yellow alert only then; the faint background beeping and overhead corridor lights flickering amber on-and-off.
"I don't think it was just sloppy work; I think we really weren't meant to die any of those times."
"Then... what the hell, Jim?"
I think we were meant to believe we were being hunted, when in reality...
This is a whole new game.
"I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out."
They had arrived at Emerett's offices. The doors weren't open but Jim could hear noise coming from in there already, a low murmur. When he finally typed the correct authorization code it was like being hit by a wall of sound.
"Two hours—"
"—getting him out of here—"
"... finding Mr Spock now—"
"Don't understand—"
"Leila Kalomi—"
"... four dead officers, that we know of! We can't locate anybody...!"
"Captain Kirk!"
This last part was yelled over the other voices by Emerett himself.
"What the hell is he doing here?" came next, directed at McCoy.
"That doesn't matter. I'm fine."
"Jim!"
Uhura sprinted out of some corner of the tightly-packed office and shouldered her way to him. Her face was devoid of tears but her eyes shone suspiciously and her hands gripped his with vice-like fingers.
"There's been no more communication, I haven't been able to untangle any transmissions from inside the base, the man from the science department who was working with her didn't reveal anything remotely useful and all we know for now are all the places where Spock isn't, everyone from the Enterprise has volunteered to look for him but so far—"
"Okay, okay." He crushed her to his chest for an instant (she felt stick-thin to him but unyielding and strong—and for a moment he got it, understood her and Spock) and then faced the rest of the room. It had gone as silent as possible, which really wasn't very silent at all, since comm calls were ringing all over the place and at least four people were still discussing different plans.
"She didn't set any more demands, am I right? No more untraceable calls asking for my death?"
"No communication whatsoever," someone Jim didn't know answered.
"She's not going to, either. She didn't take Spock as a bargaining chip or anything, she already has the threat of blowing up the entire Base to hold over our heads."
"Actually, Captain Kirk... as far as my men have determined, the hatches are untouched."
Jim felt he should be more surprised.
"There'll be another way, then. Something else to kill everyone with in under two hours unless I die first."
"Are you sure about that?" Chief Hayes asked, putting down his comm. "There's been no other security breaches, Captain Kirk."
"Oh, I'm sure. And we'll all find out what it is pretty soon; they're not dumb. Something's about to happen."
Jim wasn't quite sure how he knew this; where this certainty was coming from. He just knew it was true.
"What do you mean 'something's about to happen?'" Emerett asked. Then he seemed to realize what Jim had said. "'They're not dumb'? They?"
"Yes. They."
How... how do I know this?
"What's going on, Kirk? You saying she's working with someone else?"
Jim?
His vision swam, colors blurring into each other. He blinked and there was a pulsing light before his eyes, then blinked again and twenty people were staring at him. Uhura and McCoy were at his sides, one clutching each arm, holding him up.
He blinked again and even though he knew his eyes were open, he only saw blackness.
Jim. Jim James Jim Kirk t'hy'la Kirk the Captain my Captain
Spock!
She is not alone in this
Spock! Where are you?
Unknown—she is not alone, my telepathy is being cut—off—it—
What's happening?
You will soon...they want to hurt you I cannot let them—
Spock, who are they?
Cannot—you will soon see but be strong, I learned to control the pain long ago—real pain would be losing you, t'hy'la, losing you—that is the only thing I fear
What are you talking about? Are they hurting you? What do you mean I'll see...?
You will see but you must remember I—only thing I fear is losing you—that is why I keep holding on to you, remember?
Spock, please, tell me what's going on
It is the manner of our deaths, that is what we had not considered
What?
What matters is how we die, Jim, not that we do—if it was about us dying there were easier ways of ensuring it was so
I know, all the other times, sloppy, too sloppy, I already figured that out, but I still don't understand
I am not sure I do either but this is important, I know it—I—cannot
Spock? What's happening?
Losing you... I—losing—Jim, t'hy'la... ask Nyota what it means
This had better not be your way of saying goodbye, Spock. I'm not letting you die! Spock?
He could feel the ground beneath him again, smell the crowded room, hear things... no, he had to go back, had to hear Spock's voice again, deep in his mind, had to get back—
Spock? Spock! SPOCK!
And then, thready and weak, intermittent, flickering, there was one final thought...
T'hyla
I'm gonna save you. Spock? Spock! I'm gonna save you!
Jim opened his eyes and saw everyone, absolutely everyone was staring at him this time.
He couldn't feel Spock in the back of his mind anymore, like someone had built a wall between them. If he hadn't been a psi-dull Human he probably would have stood a damn chance.
"Kirk?"
He was half-lying on the floor, Uhura and McCoy still beside him, shocked expressions everywhere he looked, like the sight of him fainting was more distressing to them than the sight of him being shot. Not that he'd gotten to see their faces when he'd been shot, but that was an interesting notion...
The questions started immediately.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Should he be resting?"
"What's wrong with him?"
"Look at his shirt..."
"I'm fine."
He gingerly got to his feet with the help of his friends and looked squarely at the Commodore.
"And I know who we're looking for."
Spock's telepathy being cut off meant one thing, and one thing only. Jim knew who was behind this whole plan, and things were finally starting to make sense.
There was only one other Vulcan in the entire Starbase.
If anyone is feeling a little bit confused... my job here is done *grins* Don't worry, this is MEANT to look like an unfixable angsty adrenalin-crazy mess ;) Hopefully by the next 12k monster of a chapter I churn out every plothole will be neatly tied up to your satisfaction! Also! I've always thought of this chapter as The Finale: Part 1, which is probably why it feels even MORE cliffhanger-ish than usual! I solemnly promise, therefore, to try to update absolutely ASAP so that y'all don't have to wait too long for the conclusion of the story.
That said, I am amazed by the support I've gotten you guys. BLOWN AWAY. I know I keep repeating myself but really. I MEAN REALLY? WOW