He ends up in a Starfleet hospital for two days after the end of his rut. It horrified Bones to find Kirk delirious from dehydration after the masturbation marathon. It had never been so intense, not even as a teenager. He was glad he didn't have to worry about his rut until next year.
Kirk flopped into his bed in the dorm he shared with Bones. The good doctor was away for some sort of debriefing and the blond had the place all to himself. On a normal day, he'd look into some "personal stress relief." The idea of anything touching his dick made him nauseous though. But a nap, that would be perfect.
The alpha lowered the temperature. He proceeded to burrito-rolled himself into a blanket cocoon. Then he snuggled into his well-broken-in mattress.
"Computer? Lights to ten percent," he ordered, voice muffled by several layers of blankets. "And set an alarm for eighteen hundred hours."
He couldn't hear the confirmation but wasn't sure it mattered. Bones would wake him when he returned. They'd talk over whatever the meeting was about and eat dinner. It would be good to feel like he was able to affect the outcome by being more prepared.
Kirk hadn't been conscious when Starfleet had rescued the Enterprise. It was Uhura and Scotty's hard work that paid off in reestablishing subspace communication. They established contact with Starfleet. Within a matter of hours, another ship towed the Enterprise back to a grateful Earth.
The press was lauding them as heroes. Kirk ignored the sick feeling he got when he read the feeds. He wondered what they would think when they discovered the truth. He was hoping they would say the ends justified the means or whatever. The punishment for being a stowaway and mutiny was not something he looked forward to. But when had the universe ever gone easy on him?
Whether Spock would forgive him for compromising him remained to be seen. Kirk was pretty sure it was a lost cause though. It was frustrating. He was supposed to be best friends with Spock in another timeline, but he got stuck with this shit show.
The alpha groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side. He needed to relax! Kirk contemplated grabbing a sleep aid but found he was too comfortable to leave his bed.
He sighed, forced his eyes shut, and pretended to be asleep.
Jim was playing chess with his father. Well, not exactly George Kirk. Dreams were weird, and this one switched his father's blue eyes for Winona's brown. And for some reason, it made his father years older than he'd ever achieved while alive. The smile lines and warmth emanating from him suited him.
"I'll have you checkmated in your next move," Jim teased once it was clear George Kirk was distracted.
His father laughed. "Have I ever mentioned you play a very irritating game of chess?"
Jim responded with some nonsense words that only made sense in a dream, "Irritating? Ah, yes, one of your Earth emotions."
George Kirk moved a piece up several places, sleeves bearing the stripes of a captain. Jim had never played chess, but for some reason felt annoyed at the move.
His father smirked, brown eyes peering at him from the corners, distracted, but amused. "Certain you don't know what irritation is?"
"In fact, one of my ancestors married a human female."
"Terrible, having bad blood like that."
Jim stared at the board, moves mapping in his head in a way they never had before. He was determined not to lose their next match. But as he looked up to ask for a rematch, his father looked away again. Jim felt the world slipping away as the dream melted into another.
Verg Sounti was a formidable creature. As a Tellerite, she adored arguing and was tenacious to a fault. She used those skills to seek the truth no matter where it hid. Her talents were appreciated as Deputy Director of Internal Affairs.
And the Battle for Earth? The biggest fuck up of the century. Verg had her work cut out for her.
She had been spending every day since the tragedy combing through the evidence. Since Enterprise and her people returned, she was interviewing key members. No stone unturned. Verg had already interrogated the pilot and the navigator. They were both uninjured and had been on the bridge for most of the event.
Their report was troubling…
The doctor was proving to be an equal match for her though. Usually, Verg would admire his cantankerous nature. But she knew he was lying, which she didn't appreciate. She hadn't played her hand yet, though.
"And after the ship broke free, what happened with acting Captain Kirk?"
Doctor McCoy scowled. "I already told you. Spock swooned like a medieval maiden on the bridge. Jim and Uhura dragged him to my Sickbay for treatment. The Vulcans' mating pheromones set off his rut and we had to sedate him."
"Now, I'm not healthcare inclined at all," she said. "I scraped by, fumbling with the difference between a contusion and a fracture. Not like you, though." Verg scrolled through her PADD to review his transcripts. "You're top of your medical classes, graduating with honors, and all set to be assigned as CMO to a lucky ship."
The doctor's scowl remained, suspicious of her intentions in buttering him up. She set her PADD on the table.
"So I'll ask you as a medical professional. Have you ever heard of someone going into rut within a matter of minutes of exposure?"
Doctor McCoy bristled but shrugged his shoulders. "It was a lot of pheromones. The body is a mystery."
"Not so mysterious, I think." She snuffled. "Isn't it possible someone else initiated his heat? Someone he was in contact with for prolonged periods before and during the incident?"
"That would be a breach of protocol," he evaded. "That's what medical leave is for."
Verg nodded her head. "A serious accusation, I suppose? And what would I have to do if the doctor in charge was aware of this breach, and did not report it?"
To his credit, Doctor McCoy did not stiffen at the implication, nor did he hesitate. "While it is an interesting idea, ma'am, I don't see how it is relevant. I never submitted a report because such a thing didn't happen."
Verg sighed, disappointed. She hated liars. Perhaps it was foolish to expect the doctor to bow under her indirect pressure. She needed to be more forceful.
"So you deny you were aware Commander Spock is not only an omega, but was in heat during the entire emergency?" She waited for his answer. When it was not forthcoming, she squinted in displeasure. "Well?"
"Spock is a…difficult man to understand. He's Vulcan, after all. But he would never endanger the ship or the crew. It isn't in his nature," he defended.
"I understand it is an alpha's nature to protect omegas. I don't fault you for trying to do so now, but I need the truth. He needs to face the consequences of his actions."
The doctor's mouth was in a stubborn line, brow furrowed. He raised his voice, "Can't you see those actions helped save Earth? Dammit, his people were annihilated. You don't think he deserves some compassion, some mercy? Where's your humanity?!"
"I am not human, and neither is he," Verg reminded. "Now I'm asking a final time, for the record. Was Commander Spock in heat during the crisis?"
"No!"
"Think of your daughter," she pressed, probing for weakness. "If you don't take this chance to come clean, imagine what this mark on your record will do to your pending court case."
His eyes hardened with dislike. But he kept quiet.
Verg sighed, unhappy with how things were turning out. "The fact of the matter is, I don't need your confession. Commander Spock left evidence in his room that he missed his dosage of suppressants that day. And I have a witness from the bridge who overheard you accusing Commander Spock of being in heat. Before he was emotionally compromised."
"If you want to take him down, you're gonna have to take me with him," Doctor McCoy promised.
The beta waved her hand in dismissal. "I have no intention of making a butcher's game when a scalpel is all I need. I'm sure you'll appreciate the phrase." Verg sat back in her chair. "Starfleet can't afford to lose more than it already has."
Before the alpha left, she reminded him. "You're not to discuss the subject of our investigation with anyone. Am I clear?" She stopped his protests. "I will not hesitate to submit a report for your custody hearing if I have to. Am. I. Clear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dismissed."
She rubbed the pressure points in her neck once she was alone. That was nasty but necessary. Verg called in her next meeting. The two JAG members assigned to the case entered. She gave them both a cursory glance.
Kyr th'Otylrihr was a steady presence. At the beginning of their relationship, there was friction. It was only natural. They were Andorian and she was Tellerite. Over time they shared an understanding. Now they respected her position of authority as well-earned.
Beside them stood Areel Shaw. She was a young human who had recently joined their division. The two were often paired in investigations. She needed to learn the ropes from Kyr's years of experience. It surprised Verg it was the two of them who had volunteered. The others had expressed displeasure at the idea of getting anywhere near the case. Her people valued their careers.
She gestured to them. "I'm assuming you've brought yourselves up to date with the investigation. What are your opinions?"
"Culpable," Kyr announced.
Areel shifted but spoke firmly. "Not culpable."
The two partners looked at each other in surprise. This was the first time Areel had disagreed with her mentor. Kyr narrowed their eyes at the human, antennae moving side to side, but said nothing.
"And your reasons?" she asked the pair.
Kyr spoke first. "Because he missed his medication, Spock went into heat. This led to poor decisions which cost the lives of his entire people. If acting Captain Kirk had not forced him to step down, Earth would also be lost. While Kirk did also go into rut, he was unaware, and it aided him in the confrontation with Nero. Then, after the crisis was averted, Spock did not isolate himself. This forced acting Captain Kirk into emergency medical leave. The prolonged contact pushed him into the peak of his rut. Thereby leaving the ship without a chain of command until rescued several days after. Spock is culpable."
Verg turned to Areel.
"Well, who hasn't been surprised by a heat or rut? Maybe he didn't know missing his medication would incite his heat. The Supprimiolfac trials are unfinished."
Kyr snorted. "Heat is hard to miss. He should have isolated as soon as he knew."
"It was an emergency," she argued. "What about Article 14, Section 31?"
Verg interjected, "A case made on those grounds, but it would be hard to prove."
Areel nodded. "Every person we've interviewed that was there is convinced the mission would have failed without Spock going aboard the Narada. Besides, if we prosecute Spock for going into heat without realizing it then we should do the same for Kirk."
"You know we can't do that," Kyr said. "Starfleet needs its golden poster boy to show off to the press. It will be our heads if we dare tarnish his reputation."
Verg sighed. "Unfortunately, Starfleet is also pressuring us to find someone to blame. While I'm inclined to agree with you, Areel, a certain Admiral has called for a court-martial. Spock's going to trial whether we like it or not."
"That's not fair!" Areel exclaimed. "We haven't even interviewed him yet."
Kyr frowned. "There's enough evidence so we don't need to." They glared at Verg. "So who's prosecuting and who's defending?"
The Tellerite stared at the two of them, weighing and judging. It was obvious who would prefer to be on which side. Areel had the passion needed to take on her first solo defense. But was it fair to pit her against Kyr? She believed in justice over whatever some bloodthirsty Admiral wanted. And it meant giving Spock a fair chance.
Against her better judgment, she said, "Areel, defense. Kyr, prosecution. Let's do this by the book and we'll try to escape joining Spock on the chopping block. Do your jobs right and we'll get through this."
Verg dismissed them both before returning to writing her personal recommendation. She was not looking forward to the all-nighter she would have to pull.
Spock felt nothing when he regained consciousness. Physically, he sensed he was weak, cold, and in pain. He smelled the lingering traces of his heat scent filling the crowded room. Doctor Jimenez and her team had worked nonstop since he was shuttled to Earth. The light was bright and everyone was loud. Loud in the volume of their voice and loud in the way they moved their bodies, their faces.
But even when their skin brushed his or held their gloved palms against him, he felt nothing.
It was quiet in his mind.
Upon closer inspection, quiet was not the correct word. Inside, his thoughts were hoarse from screaming for what felt like an eternity. The Black Hole dragged him closer, consuming his reason. He had battled it without rest. Currently, his mind was too tired for anything other than existing.
The questions he answered for the doctors felt…distant. Several interested parties wanted their name associated with this feat of science. They tested and prodded long after his stamina gave out, but eventually, they let him rest.
He was not left for long. Sarek was allowed into the room. The older alpha stared at his son before approaching his side, arms concealed in the folds of his sleeves.
"Father," Spock said, voice rough from the intubation. "I did not know you would be here."
Sarek chose not to comment on the matter, instead, addressing what weighed on his mind. "I am gratified you are alive, Spock." He bowed his head. "Your loss would have been greater than I could bear. You are all I have left."
Spock jerked his chin in a sharp nod. "I regret to have caused you any inconvenience."
"You took an unnecessary risk."
"No," Spock said. "It was necessary."
"Explain."
"Mother has been avenged. Earth is safe. I was the best candidate to accomplish these goals."
Sarek narrowed his eyes a fraction. "Elaborate how an omega in heat is the appropriate candidate for such a venture."
"As a Vulcan member of Starfleet, I had unique skills in combat and touch telepathy not afforded to others. Furthermore, as a half-Vulcan, my life is less necessary to continue propagating our species."
He did not continue with that thread of logic to its natural conclusion. Spock was reckless with his life, as he no longer saw the point of his continued existence. His father did not need to know the depths of those dark thoughts.
"An interesting argument, though incorrect. You are not aware of all the relevant details."
Spock tilted his head. "And what details would those be?"
"You are essential for the continuance of our people. You do not know yet…what Amanda and I have done. What Vulcan has done."
"Tell me," Spock insisted.
"Your mother was traveling to Earth soon. She would have revealed all to you and a member of the press. I do not know yet if this is wise."
Spock's face held no frustration at the lack of information. He wondered if his father was proud of his control after the incident on the bridge. "Why is it no longer wise?" he asked.
"Amanda was a woman guided by her emotions, no matter how much she adapted to our ways. Her reasons were not grounded in logic. To do so now without her would be…irrational. It is useful as leverage."
"Leverage for what?"
"For you," Sarek admitted. "The consequences of what happened have yet to reveal themselves. But I foresee a time when such knowledge could be useful. It could also do great harm. I am uncertain which path is correct. Either outcome is unknown."
Spock paused, thoughtful. "Yet it was something she desired? Speaking with the press is a course of action she would support?"
"Indeed."
"Then I propose you do what would make her…proud." His gaze wavered. "She once told me, no matter what course of action I took when faced with a crossroads, I would always have a proud mother."
"She expressed such a concept several times over your lifetime."
"Then I extrapolate she would be a proud wife, no matter which path you choose. That of logic or honoring her wishes."
Sarek nodded, pleased. "A sound argument, my son." He turned to leave. "I will consider my next course of action while meditating. You should endeavor to take the subsequent time to rest." He left.
Before Spock fell into a slumber, there was a polite knock on the door. A human woman stood outside the room. She was blonde, with a pixie cut, carrying two PADDs, and bearing JAG credentials. Spock thought she looked young.
So it had already begun.
Spock forced himself to full alertness and allowed her entry. No longer on suppressants, he detected notes of lemons and daisies. She was an omega. It was refreshing, but soon his own cloying scent overpowered it.
She introduced herself, "Mr. Spock, my name is Lieutenant Areel Shaw. I'm to be your advocate."
"I see," he said. "Then I am to be court-martialed?"
She grimaced. "They have opened an investigation panel and have gathered evidence, yes. I'm hoping they'll try to sweep everything under the rug to avoid a scandal."
"And you were assigned to me?"
"Yes, sir," she said.
Spock stared at her PADD and felt a soft sensation of foreboding. They had not wasted time. He was still not cleared for duty. His dark eyes flicked back to the young woman, who shifted her weight with unease despite her bravado.
"Do you have prior experience with cases like this?" he asked.
Shaw chuckled half-heartedly. "There's never been a case like this, has there?" Faced with his dispassionate stare, she hurried to continue. "But I'm fully accredited! I've been with JAG since last year. That is...December of last year. But that's three and a half months now!"
A pit of stone and worry was forming in Spock's stomach. He did not grind his teeth.
Unable to stop herself, she continued, "To be honest, I volunteered." Shaw clamped her mouth shut as if it were a secret.
"Might I request a different advocate?"
The omega woman deflated. "No, um, you see—" she stuttered, worsening Spock's opinion of her. "I had to volunteer. Because. Because no one else would accept." She winced.
Spock knew he should have expected this as well. Taking this case would be ill-advised if one sought to better their career. He said as much.
"I don't care," she said. Shaw shook her head. "They were laughing and making jokes about you being an omega. I couldn't—couldn't…"
Spock stared at the wall, cold and exhausted. Perhaps it would be better this way.
She sat, her bottom lip trembling before she bit it hard enough to draw blood. With a sigh, she dabbed her mouth with her sleeve. It was an odd habit. She turned to Spock.
"They never took me seriously, you know? I'm tough though, I can take the pranks and the jokes." Shaw frowned. "I can't stand it when other people are being bullied though. I had to do something."
Spock watched her, head tilted. So she was an idealist? Initially, he was concerned she had taken the case because she was of lesser intelligence. It was somehow worse that she cared.
She smacked her knee with her PADDs, face determined. "Look, I know I'm not the best person for the job, but I'm here."
"Because you believe we share a commonality due to our designations?"
"No," she took a deep breath. "Because you're fucked without me. So let me help. Let's talk about what they have and how we can win this thing."
Spock let her take charge and reviewed the evidence against him. It was not unsubstantial. They had gathered detailed interviews, ships' logs, medical records, computer analysis, and more. Her timeline of events was excruciating without error.
It was simply a matter of time.
Nyota stared at the wall ahead, gaze empty. Her face was warm, cheeks wet with tears. She gasped back sobs and blew her nose. She was a mess.
Janice, Christine, and Gary were all sitting with her, dealing with the news in their own way. Janice, who had informed them, was held by Christine as she cried into the nurse's shoulder. Gary sat at the table, frowning with an intense look of concentration on his face. He had returned from the Laurentian system promoted. Noticeably absent was Gaila.
Gaila, who should have been there.
Nyota closed her eyes and tried to banish the thought repeating in her mind over and over again.
She was alone. She must have been so scared. Maybe if I were there, I could have saved her.
But the fact was, if Nyota were on any other ship than the Enterprise, she would have died too. There were no survivors. Nero had made sure of it.
She felt immense guilt she and Gaila were arguing over the stupidest things a few days ago. She would give anything to go back and hug her friend and beg her to stay.
Anything.
Janice was hiccupping, Christine, shushing her.
In the grand scheme of things, their loss was so small. Compared to the billions of Vulcans that perished in Nero's genocide. Gaila knew what she was signing up for when she enlisted. Their job was dangerous.
But it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair Gaila was taken away. She was Nyota's best friend.
The beta stood. No one seemed to notice until she was almost gone.
Gary called out, "Uhura, where are you going?"
She ignored him. She didn't want her friends to talk her out of what she was planning. Nyota marched across campus to a familiar dorm. She wrestled with whether to use the computer or bang on the door with her fists.
She ended up not needing to do either.
Kirk opened the door as if he were expecting her. She brushed past him, satisfied when he spluttered in confusion. The beta turned, hands on her hips, to face the man Gaila had been in love with.
His blonde hair was a mess. There were unflattering cowlicks with the left side pressed flat. He had drool dried in the corner of his mouth and she got a whiff of his morning breath. Kirk was wearing a stained T-shirt and loose gym shorts. Not regulation, of course. She furrowed her nose in disgust.
Okay, so he hadn't been expecting her. She wasn't expecting her to be here either. She had no idea why she decided to leave the comfort of her friends and face this asshole.
Except.
Except Gaila had been in love with him. Really in love with him. And he had used her.
The slap rang out. She had used her full force. She was furious. But now she was crying angry tears and she couldn't stand to look at the idiot.
"What the fuck, Uhura!" Kirk rubbed his cheek. "Were you waiting to do that until I wasn't your commanding officer?"
"Gaila's dead."
Kirk lowered his hand from his face and stood there, mouth hanging open. "What?"
"She's dead and it's your fault some of my last memories of her were fighting." She gritted her teeth. "You're not even worth it. You weren't worth us fighting."
Kirk sighed and looked down. "Yeah, I know."
That almost shook her from her tirade, but there was so much emotion boiling up, she couldn't handle it anymore.
"Gaila left her home for the promise of something better at Starfleet. She was going to change the world by being the first Orion. She was brilliant and I loved her so much. She didn't deserve what you did to her."
Kirk was blinking fast, eyes bluer than she'd ever seen. "I'm so sorry, Uhura. You have to understand how sorry I am. I cared about her too."
"But you didn't love her."
"I—no, I didn't love her."
"You're broken, Jim Kirk," she accused with finality. "You took something that could have been so beautiful and you ruined it." Nyota rubbed her eyes. "And now she's gone."
"And now she's gone," he echoed, softly.
Nyota sat at his dining room table with a thud. Her hands pressed to her eyelids to stem the flow that would not cease. She heard Kirk grab something and sit across from her. He poured something into a glass.
"Here."
She didn't care she was inviting trouble. She didn't care Kirk was the last person she wanted to grieve with. Nyota took the shot glass and drank. She slammed the glass on the table, and Kirk obliged her by filling it again as well as his own. They sat there for a few minutes, each taking two shots of something foul-smelling of paint thinner.
Kirk paused in pouring their third shot. He addressed the bottle rather than her. "You know what my favorite thing about her was?"
She didn't care or want to ask. "What?"
"Gaila could never pronounce certain things like 'yogurt'. She struggled with it so much before declaring it a stupid word her people had evolved beyond."
Nyota huffed, not quite a laugh. "But she loved it so much. I never realized she never said it if she could help it."
"She always asked for 'fro-yo" when she wanted some," Kirk said. "And she always packed on the toppings at that little store near the beach. It was her guilty pleasure."
"One of," Nyota corrected. "I can see why you and she got along so well. She had so many guilty pleasures." Nyota closed her eyes. "She loved Halloween. Always wanted to do group costumes. She'd plan it months in advance."
"Gaila knew how to live, and she did it whenever possible, as much as possible."
They both drank a shot.
Kirk's next sentence slurred. "I wanted to take her on a real date. You know, like the stuff you see in movies. With roses and candles and shit."
"You're eloquent as usual," she mocked. Though she was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol as well. The room was swiveling.
"I'm serious," he protested. "She didn't want to tell you though. Kept saying she hated breaking promises."
Nyota sobbed. "I wouldn't have cared. I shouldn't have cared. Not if you made her happy."
"I think we were happy for a while. She told me she loved me and I panicked. 'Cause, of course, I fucking ruin everything."
Nyota didn't argue his point, just stared at him with bleary eyes.
"I won't—I won't hurt anyone again. I promise."
She didn't believe him. But it was enough, for now.
They drank.
"Commander Spock, you are here to address a serious matter. Consider this a pre-hearing."
Spock sat in a wheelchair next to Shaw. His body recovering from his ordeal. Before him sat a panel of his superiors. Admiral Barnett led the panel of five. In attendance were Admiral Komack, Admiral Archer, Admiral Marcus, and Deputy Director Sounti. His prosecutor, an Andorian, sat on the opposite side of the room.
There were no extraneous personnel permitted. Spock was grateful it was a private affair, without an audience of the press.
Admiral Komack continued where Admiral Barnett left off. "Internal Affairs has submitted evidence after a lengthy investigation." He gestured to Deputy Director Sounti. "You knowingly endangered the lives of your crew and your own people in a crisis. This resulted in the destruction of Vulcan."
"Sirs, if I may," Deputy Director Sounti interrupted. "I did not determine if the actions of Commander Spock were the cause of Vulcan's destruction. My investigation only shows procedure was broken."
Admiral Barnett nodded. "From what I've been reading in these reports, Commander Spock's efforts were essential. He prevented the same from happening to Earth."
"For which we're all grateful," Admiral Komack responded, openly sarcastic. "That doesn't negate the fact the Enterprise had no captain or second command in charge. Which is documented in your investigation."
Admiral Marcus prompted Spock, "Is there anything you want to say in your defense, son? Now's the time to speak up, before we proceed to trial."
"Negative," he said. Spock saw Shaw's eyes widen in shock.
Admiral Barnett looked troubled. "If you do not refute the evidence, there is the matter of how we should handle this situation."
"If word got out, it could spell disaster for Starfleet. The Federation is looking to us for strength," Admiral Marcus agreed.
Admiral Komack frowned. "This isn't something we can just slap him on the wrist with, there needs to be punishment to fit the crime!"
"Why did you do it, Commander?" They turned to look as Admiral Archer spoke. He was a wizened old beta, but his presence held power. "Why not remove yourself from command when you first realized you had missed your dose?"
Spock's face was pale and impassive. He refused to express the inner turmoil he was experiencing. His last breach in control would be his last. He was unaware his dark brown eyes held defiance as he stared up at his superiors.
Admiral Komack bristled. "You should resign immediately. You've proven to me omegas are not fit to lead in a crisis, let alone allowed on a starship at all."
Spock saw Shaw's spine stiffen. A sharp spike of lemon assaulted his nose.
"We could frame it as a voluntary resignation. Your people need you to help rebuild. It would be honorable," said Admiral Marcus.
"If you insist on staying in Starfleet, we could transfer you to a safer place. Somewhere you're not in danger. You could continue teaching, or a research ship like the U.S.S. Bradbury…?" Admiral Barnett offered.
Shaw interjected. "Sirs, is my client charged at this time? His statement is not a plea of culpability."
Admiral Barnett tried to placate her. "You're right, we haven't officially begun the process for a court-martial. We're giving Commander Spock a chance to make the right choice."
"For himself, or for Starfleet?" she demanded.
"They should be one and the same," Admiral Komack insisted. "This opportunity is more than he deserves. As his legal counsel, you should make sure he doesn't waste it."
Admiral Marcus spoke, "Young lady if he doesn't resign, we'll have to decide which path to take. It will be messy."
"I'm fine with messy, sir. We omegas are fine with getting our hands dirty."
"Don't try and make this about designation politics," Marcus warned.
"Let's focus, here," Admiral Archer reminded.
"I say, if Commander Spock does not do us the courtesy of resigning, he does it with the understanding we will respond in kind." Admiral Komack said. "He has till tomorrow."
"Sirs, Commander Spock will need to order his affairs in either case. Grant him a week," Shaw countered.
Admiral Barnett held up a hand. "He has three days, and that's final."
"Thank you, sir."
"Three days is more than you deserve," Admiral Komack reminded. "Make sure you get it right, this time."
This time.
Nyota had an entire day to herself. She spent it catching up on the news. There were two notable issues. The first was a well-respected, serious publication: The Starfleet Informant. It circulated strictly to Starfleet personnel. Nyota didn't expect to find anything about Spock's upcoming trial since it was kept under wraps. It surprised her to find his judicial advocate speaking on the front cover news.
Omegas Fight Back
"What we're seeing is a gross example of role designation discrimination. My client is innocent of culpability, and we're fighting it in court if we have to."
The rest of the article went into detail about potential defense tactics. They questioned each line of defense with counterarguments. It was like watching the courtroom of the future come to life. Nyota suspected Spock was having a conniption for being outed. However, she agreed Shaw knew the best way to sway the public's opinion.
She felt a little better after reading. Next, she decided to read her guilty pleasure: a gossip magazine. She also wasn't expecting to read about Spock's case there. And she didn't. But Spock was still featured.
VULCAN HOTTIE FALLS FOR EARTH'S SAVIOR!
Sources close to our favorite heroes say Spock and James T. Kirk have gotten close since the Battle of Earth! Plus, is there more to one than meets the eye?
Nyota glanced around the library, making sure she remained unobserved. They had postponed finals, and the building was empty. She tapped the link, feeling a smidgen of guilt.
We all know the story by now. Romulans destroy seven ships, destroy Vulcan, and set Earth as their next target. Without the daring efforts of James Kirk and a Vulcan Ambassador's son, Spock, we would all be in big trouble! The pair saved the day, and readers are asking, is there a 'happy ever after' in their future?
Sources say 'yes'!
"I'm pretty sure they're both in the hospital right now," says one Enterprise crew member.
"Together?" we ask.
"Oh yeah, definitely. You should have seen them. Sparks were flying. They couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Spock was giving it to Kirk real good."
It is a tale as old as time, and we love it! Can you say wedding bells? Ding ding ding!
Nyota read on with morbid fascination. She stopped when the reporter went into gory details about their supposed sex life. She skipped past the four paragraphs of smut. She hoped Spock never found this.
There are some startling reports of a deeper issue at play here. Nothing as ridiculous as time travel, which some of you have theorized! No, something much darker. An anonymous source claims one of our heroes is actually…an Augment! That's right, you heard it first at Quadrant Review! Could one of our beloved heroes be genetically engineered? Some speculate Kelvin Baby and resident bad boy, James T. Kirk, is a product of such practices.
Our legal department would like to remind our readers DNA resequencing and manipulation are illegal. We at the Quadrant Review only speculate on ideas submitted by our readers and do not condone such actions.
Nyota rolled her eyes and scrolled to the next article. She really hoped Kirk didn't read this particular article. His head was bloated enough.
Punguani.
Ambassador Spock was reading the same articles, light years away. He and Keenser were aboard a passenger ship headed to Earth. They made an odd pair, but Spock found him an intriguing companion.
He was torn. His t'hy'la had often teased him for his urge to meddle in affairs. Jim had always said it was the human side of him breaking free. This alternate reality proved no different.
His younger self was in peril. Spock had hacked Starfleet's database to see what he could make of the situation. The prospect of a fair outcome seemed unlikely.
In this strange universe of alphas, betas, and omegas, his counterpart was an omega. From what he could gather, this left him vulnerable to discrimination despite a social reform that predated his birth. And Spock could see the inner machinations working towards a return to pre-reform. Young Spock would be swept up in the tide as a simple pawn, the catalyst of modern society's downfall.
If he did not act, Ambassador Spock had no doubt Nero's actions would ripple outwards, unchecked. Jim would encourage him to meddle, in this case.
He tapped on a link to the Quadrant Review. In his timeline, it had been his preferred method of researching new scientific studies. He tapped on the first article. He blinked.
So much had changed in this reality. But perhaps not all things. He smiled to himself and wondered what the younger pair would think. Perhaps he need not meddle as much as he initially thought.