Act 5

The tall form of a G'neld female rested against the tall pillar outside of the Palace. That was the first thing Kirk noticed as he returned to the surface, the blizzard of the transporter dissipating. The female looked at him, arms folds across her flat chest. The two stared at each other a few seconds then Kirk turned on his heel and strode off towards the busy streets of the capitol.

He never could understand Spock. For all his logical and inability to lie or bend the rules, there was times that he went half-cocked on some wild goose chase. He knew Spock's early years on the Enterprise hadn't exactly been a picnic, but some of the older crew that had stayed on after Pike had been reassigned said Spock was known to smile a ton more and display emotions. What was it about Kirk that had changed the man Spock? He had never known the more mischievous Vulcan that had been more of a delight to serve under.

Perhaps that explained the Menagerie Incident, as he liked to call it. Two years before, Spock had abducted Captain Pike from his medical facility and talking to some aliens who had the ability to project images in the mind had contrived an entire elaborate scenario for Kirk. None of it had been real, not even the court-martial that had been convened. As he wandered the streets, following the directions Mr. Scott had given him, he wondered if Spock had never felt completely loyal to him.

Oh yes, they were friends. But even as the sun was beginning its descent and painting the city with orange light and the crowds began to dissipate as they headed to their homes to keep curfew, he thought it ironic. Much like the sun, it only stayed for a stretch of time. Beyond that, the star would be gone. Same with Spock it seemed. Most of the time he would be close at hand. Beyond that, he would be gone.

He shook the thought off violently. What point was there for self-pity? He was a starship captain, for crying out loud! He wasn't allowed the convince of simply allowing doubt and the actions of others to make him second guess himself. His steps took strength and he continued on his way to the Lower Imperial Archives.


The popping of the flames from the fire from the back of the cave back-dropped the small hustle and bustle of Zarabeth as she threw on some heavier clothing before they'd make their trip. The trip away from her isolation and prison. It was a time to rejoice. Spock most certainly seemed to be happy, if that was possible.

But McCoy sat there on a raised rock formation that jutted from the floor of the cave. He wasn't completely convinced about this whole plan. No matter how much he wanted Spock to be happy, which he really did despite all his griping towards Spock, something just didn't feel right. Just because they were able to get here with no problem, didn't mean she'd be able to leave.

He glanced over at Spock, whose hands were together. He was slowly wringing them, as if the anticipation was beginning to get to him. Last time he'd been here, he had rapidly digressed towards the state of evolution his people had been five thousand years ago.

"Are you alright?" he called out towards Spock.

The Vulcan made no sign as if he had heard the Doctor. He stood there, staring intently at Zarabeth as she threw on a third heavy set of animal skins.

"Spock!" he snapped, and the Vulcan looked at him with a hint of annoyance.

"Yes?" he asked, trying to keep his annoyance under control.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You are starting to act…."

"Like what?" Spock asked.

"Like an un-evolved Vulcan," McCoy said bluntly.

"I know that!" Spock snapped. His eyes glared fiercely at him, his hands clenched in anger. His features seemed to redden in rage and annoyance. "I don't need you to diagnose me. I know my own symptoms…Doctor." He spat the last word like a vile piece of letters.

He turned away from McCoy and took a few deep breaths. He was very shaky and it was obvious the effort he exerted to regain control of his faculties. He raised his hands and placing them against the cavern wall slowly pushed himself back and forth, closing his eyes as he did so. McCoy slowly stood and moved close to him. Hesitantly he raised his hand and gently touched Spock's shoulder. Spock stiffened but restrained himself. Seeing he wasn't going to be attacked, McCoy squeezed his shoulder.

"I am sorry," Spock said; his voice shaky from the effort, "I do not mean to lash out at you, Leonard. You don't know what it's like though."

"Like what is?" McCoy asked despite the fact he could probably guess what he was talking about.

"To have your logic which dictates your life being stripped away like the layers of an onion," Spock explained, shaking his head, "To be forced to watch yourself devolve to something you are not. I am a Vulcan, Leonard! I control my emotions. But I feel the basest of desires surfacing."

"But you are also Human," McCoy reminded him.

Spock lashed out, swinging a fist. He was a Vulcan, top of his form, strong and fast. There was no way the human could have dodged it. McCoy saw stars burst in his mind as Spock's fist connected with his head. McCoy reeled backwards, falling to the ground. He shook his head as he lay on the ground. Spock stood over him, snorting.

"I know that!" he barked, "Don't you dare tell me what I am and am not! How dare you presume to know what I feel at the moment? You don't know anything, McCoy! Nothing at all!"

"How dare I?" McCoy asked slowly, anger of his own rising as he looked up at the Vulcan towering over him. "I dare because I am your friend! You don't think I know about loving someone with all your heart, and never having a chance to express it? I am married to a woman who I never can see because of my duty to Starfleet! I am forced to watch helplessly as people, some of them friends, die despite my best efforts. You think you have the monopoly on suffering in silence? I am a Doctor, d-t! My job is to heal, and yet I have to put up a brave face as those I have sworn to heal die! And my best friends come to me only if they are sick. So don't you for one second think I don't know. I know more than you can possibly begin to fathom."

The two men stared at each other, anger boiling in each. One was angry at what was happening to him and angry that he couldn't contain his own rage at those who were helping him. The other was angry as he pushed himself up off the floor. Angry that the man who was in need of his help was being uncooperative, angry that he was forced to reveal the true man that was hid behind the mask.

"Are….are you both alright?" a voice asked and they turned to see Zarabeth having stood there. They didn't know how long she had been standing there, but obviously long enough to see at least the end of their quarrel.

"We are," McCoy said, glancing sideways at spoke, "Aren't we?"

Spock took another deep breath and nodded. "We are alright," he said, reaching out to take one of the fur coats that Zarabeth held over her arms, "Let's leave this planet."


"Here we are!" Spock shouted over the howling winds of snow. He pointed out with his finger towards a black hole that wavered in the landscape.

Zarabeth stopped and holding her hands above her eyes looked at it. It must have been an intense moment, one of exultation and also fear. She had only known for decades a life of solitude and exile. And yet, here she was. Looking at freedome before her.

"Let's get going!" McCoy shouted, bundled up in the fur coats, "I am tired of being on this planet. And I am sure Zarabeth would agree we need to leave."

"I am," she said, choking back tears, "I am ready to be free."

"Let's go then," Spock said and pulling her along as fast as she could go with her limp, they stepped up to the black rip in the fabric of time and space. She pulled back as they approached, sudden fear rushing through her. The unknown was before her. Spock gave her a reassuring squeeze of the hand and they stepped towards the tear. McCoy slowed, wiping away at snowflakes that had entered his eyes.

"Go ahead!" he said, blinking back the snow, "I'll be along directly."

"Alright, Doctor!" Spock said, "Here we go."

Slowly they stepped into the rent and McCoy stood there, blinking a few more times. The snow finally cleared (as did his vision) and taking a deep breath he didn't look back as he stepped up to the rent. But suddenly Spock and Zarabeth were thrown back and he was plowed over by the two of them as they landed on the ground. He hit the ground hard and grunted in pain as the two others were stunned.

"Wh-what happened?" he demanded, pushing them both off, "Why aren't you through?"

"The device said 'No'," Spock said, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the ground.

"What?" McCoy asked, sitting up and squinting at it, "Why not?"

"She cannot enter through the portal," the Time Portal spoke to them in a booming voice, "The timeline would be ultimately curropted."

"How can it be?" Spock demanded, gripping his hand into a fist, "She is of no importance to the timeline! It would do no damage. She cannot be that much of an influence."

"She is not the issue here. You are."

Spock looked up at the Portal, his mouth open. This did not make sense. It made no sense at all. How could she not be the issue, but he would be if she went through.

"What do you mean by that?" McCoy asked.

"Spock is meant to bring together the Fire and the Raptor and end the division of two races," the Portal said, "If he stayed or she was to go into your timeline, this Reuniting of Races could not occur. She and he are a powerful force that together would destroy the future of your timeline. He would abandon his responsibilities to stay with her forever. This cannot be allowed to occur."

"No!" Spock shouted in rage, veins popping out in his neck and head as a rage uncontrollably pounded inside of him. "I love her! I will not abandon her to live this life here alone! I will stay here then!"

"You heard what the Portal said," McCoy said, trying to talk reason into him, "You are needed back in our timeline. I don't know what this raptor and fire are, but you can bring about peace. You are far too important."

"Perhaps he is correct," Zarabeth said sadly, "Perhaps you need to-"

"I will not abandon you," Spock roared, grabbing her tightly by the arms and shaking her, "I don't care what either of them say! You are mine."

Zarabeth grunted in pain. His hands were like iron on her arms. She had never seen anyone become so emotionally volatile like he was. The look of intense anguish in his eyes made her extremely fearful. She tried to pull away.

"Spock," she plead, "You're….urh…hurting me!"

"Spock!" McCoy called to him, bending close to him, "Spock! Spock! Let her go."

"No!" Spock howled over the wind, "I won't let her go! I won't-"

McCoy didn't know how strong he was. But Spock was out of his Vulcan mind. Zarabeth was in danger. His friend asked him here to help him make the right choice. To protect him from himself. He swung as fast and hard as he could. The blood fever was so intense that Spock couldn't respond to McCoy as he hit him hard across the head. Stars flashed in his head as he blacked out, hitting the icy ground hard. He was cut and warm green blood poured from his open wound.

McCoy leaned over him and putting his index and middle fingers underneath his chin felt his pulse. It was very rapid, but slowing as his unconscious state lowered his heart-rate. He smiled slowly. This was good.

"Good….good." he nodded his head, "That is-"

He only then remembered Zarabeth. He looked up and saw her face, tears pouring down her face at the knowledge she could never leave. His heart broke at the sight. So much hope rode on this escape, only to learn she could not leave. There must have been a way around it.

"Portal?" McCoy asked, turning to it, "What if she entered while he is out cold? And fled and never was seen again? Would that be possible?"

"The bond between the two is too strong for her to be there even unknown," the Portal said, "The Vulcan heart would draw him after her. She must stay."

He knew it was quiet impossible to find another way to escape. She would be trapped here. He turned to her and opened his mouth. But nothing he'd say would make it alright.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I truly am."

"Just leave!" she shouted, tears pouring from her eyes. She pushed herself up by the cliff face and ran off, disregarding everything as she ran, "Just leave!"

"Zabareth!" McCoy shouted, jumping up and racing after her, "You're too distraught to run off on your own! Zarabeth! Zarabeth! Slow down! Wait until you're calmer! Zarabeth!"

There was a scream, although he wasn't sure if it was just the wind or her. But, as he ran after her, trying to catch her, he could not find her. Soon, even her prints vanished near a cliff. It didn't reach the edge, but he wasn't sure if she had stayed on the edge or had fallen over in her grief. The snow was blowing fiercely and he looked high and low, seeing nothing.

Accepting defeat and he'd never know if she was alive or not, he turned and walked back, towards where he had left Spock. He lay there in the snow, blood and tears intermingled around his face. He leaned down, and tears of his own threatened to spill out. He wiped at his eyes to prevent himself from crying. He had watched many movies and read many books that had sad endings. But none of those compared to what he saw.

"I'm sorry, Spock," he said, tears bursting forth now despite his efforts to the contrary, "I had to do it."

With that, grabbing him by the shoulders pulled him into a sitting position. He slid his arum under Spock's shoulder and stood up. He grunted at the effort and stepped towards the portal. The Vulcan dragged in dead weight on his shoulder and he nearly stumbled and lost his footing. He stopped at the very edge, and looked over the trail. He hoped to see the dark form of Zarabeth coming. But there was nothing. Looking away and towards the dark vortex of the portal, he stepped through.


"Are you sure nothing else has gone through?" Kirk asked, looking at the G'neld who was the curator of the Archives.

The man bobbed his head up and down. "Quiet so yes," he said, "Nothing and nobody has gone through. But you would have to know where they have gone. Or else it would be fruitless."

Kirk stared at the circle of stone. Yes, it would be dangerous. But there was something of importance to both the Doctor and Vulcan. There was few, so it limited his choices by a great margin. He swallowed and nodding his head said, "I must try." With that, he prepared to step forward but suddenly a black cloud formed in the rock and out stepped McCoy, grunting as he pulled Spock through. Spock was muttering to himself in his sleep.

"Bones!" Kirk said, looking at him as he stepped through. He wore heavy coats of fur over his body and so did Spock. But McCoy had a heavy bruise on the side of his head. Spock was bleeding a trickle of green blood, a bruise of his own across his jaw. "What happened?"

"Here you go," McCoy said, leaning forward as he did so. Kirk reached out and grabbed the Vulcan from him. McCoy then snaked out his hand and yanked Kirk's phaser out of the holster.

"What are you doing?" Kirk asked as McCoy turned around and pointed the phaser at the arch of stone, the vortex closing.

"NO!" the curator said, reaching out to stop him. But it was too late, and the phaser blast hit the top of the arch. The stone erupted in a blast of phaser and the rock became a dust of rock and dust. It flew across the room and covered everything.

"Let's get back to the Enterprise," McCoy said slowly , and Kirk only now saw the redness of eyes that had been crying.

"Enterprise," Kirk said, after he flipped open the cover of his communicator. "Three to beam up."