The BLTS Archive- Broken Ange: Part Two
by T'Thrill (TThrill1216@aol.com)

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Archive - COCO and ASCEML only. All other please ask.

Warnings - hurt/comfort, angst and non-consensual sex. This story
contains explicit m/m sexual encounters and non-consensual sex scenes.
If you are under the age of 18, or these subjects do not interest you,
please do not read.

Disclaimer - Copyright 2002 T'Thrill

This is an original work of fiction based on Star Trek. The story is
my own, and not used for making any profit. It is not intended to
infringe on the intellectual property rights of Paramount, Viacom, or
any other of their assignees or licensees. The characters are the
property of Paramount and I have made fair, transformative use of
them.

Acknowledgement – My sincere appreciation to my two wonderful beta’s.
MizzMarcee, who is always willing to stay up late and discuss plots
and ideas into the wee hours of the morning…And Selek, my kind and
gentle friend who is always willing to give me the benefit of his
talent and wisdom. Thank you so very much. Without you both, I would
post nothing but drivel.

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Chapter 1


Record.

Personal recording: Spock, son of Sarek, former acolyte of Gol,
Starfleet status…currently inactive.

Kolinharu S'ethah has furnished me with this recording device so that
I may better achieve an understanding and mastery of my most recent
failure.  I have been advised that should I be able to regain mastery
over those situations that challenge me emotionally, and survive, I
shall be allowed to return to this place of my ancient ancestors and
complete my mission.  This record will be heard by no one and is
purely for the purpose of personal reflection of the deepest sort.  By
baring all, even if only to myself, I shall attempt to achieve
domination over those inadequacies that have kept me from fulfilling
that which I seek.

Interestingly, it was not a rush of unexpected passions that preceded
this latest failure.  I had experienced such breaks in my discipline
since my arrival upon the red sands and had trained myself how to
shield myself against the threats of emotion that would attempt to
steal my logic.  Quite the opposite.  It was a being of immense power,
possessing unattainable wide-ranging knowledge and wisdom, and
possessing no detectable evidence of emotion that touched me when my
psyche was at its most receptive.

As I sensed it graze against my mind, I knew I should turn away from
it, shun it, and search for those things within myself.  Instead, in
an attempt to achieve a pinnacle of awareness that I had never before
attained, I sought it out, seeking the source of these perfectly
logical thought patterns.  And, in doing so, it created a vacuum
within me, robbing me of those things I value most, my calm and my
strength.  Once its destructive path through my mind was complete, I
was left with a gaping maw of emptiness.  Where I had found answers,
now only questions remained.  I was lost.  It was not the first time I
have been so and, considering the decision I have made, it will
probably not be my last.  I expect to be lost once more before death
claims me.

The outcome from physical contact is unknown, but there is no reason
to believe that I shall be able to survive such power that I feel
emanating from the entity.  I shall, however, continue to strive for
that which I have been seeking these last years in hopes that, even if
only in death, my katra will acquire the tranquility I have found
unattainable in life.

I will use the time it will take to reach my destination to fully
investigate those sensations that have once again converged upon me,
threatening to overtake me.  Only through self-examination may I learn
the origin of this disquietment that is intent on dwelling within me.

Freshly groomed and no longer wearing the ritual garb of the acolyte,
I await conveyance to S'hi'kar.  I am feeling the stirrings of
impatience that comes when one commences a journey into the unknown.
I have been advised that a shuttle will come for me, but I have not
been given a time for its arrival.  Perhaps this ambiguousness is a
test on behalf of my Kolinharu.  I must quiet this eagerness that is
rising within me.  A shuttle has been requested; it will arrive.  That
I must accept.  Acceptance is basic to my character, as it has always
been, and must continue to be.

As a child, I accepted my father's stipulation that I bond myself to
another, even though the tradition is one that is still practiced only
among those who follow the most ancient rituals of our people.  When I
arrived at the Age of Decision, I chose a life dedicated to Starfleet,
knowing it would offer me the opportunity to expand my interests in
naturally occurring phenomena, something which would have been
unavailable to me had I remained on Vulcan.  In making a choice to
pursue a career based in science instead of the course expected by my
father, one that would have led me to serve Vulcan and the political
interests of its populace, I accepted the fact that Sarek's
disapproval was both logical and unavoidable.

Once I had achieved my objective of serving in Starfleet, I accepted
each new assignment as it was presented to me and did all within my
capabilities to succeed as well as my abilities allowed.  I met each
new situation with a dedication to duty while accepting my limitations
and recognizing my potential.  I approached those in charge with the
same rational acceptance used in all other aspects of my life.  I
strove to be competent in my job and, therefore, was deemed a worthy
member of a starship crew among most of my peers.

During the years I served with Captain Christopher Pike, I was
rewarded with respect and increased responsibilities within the
science department.  In my fifth year under his direction, I was
promoted to chief science officer.  As a Vulcan serving in Starfleet,
it would have been most unlikely for me to be placed on a direction
toward command.  And, since I had no desire for such goals, remaining
as the head of this department served both my needs and my
capabilities well.  On Captain Pike's Enterprise, I found contentment.

By pursuing a career away from my home planet, I accepted that the
cultures with whom I would live and work, mostly human, would find the
presence of a Vulcan both an asset and a curiosity.  I accepted the
unusual way in which humans have an incessant need to have intimate
knowledge of one another.  It is an innate trait among that species.
And, since I was not inclined to participate in this familiarity, I
accepted the fact that I would be considered an outsider to most, and
suspect to some. 

When it was announced that the commander was being replaced, I
accepted this as normal movement within the Starfleet hierarchy.
Captain Pike had commanded the Enterprise for thirteen years and his
promotion was expected.  Although my length of service to Captain Pike
had made my loyalties to him logically more pronounced than to any
other commander under whom I had served, I did not experience any form
of emotional severing when he departed.

That was not the case with the remaining members of the crew.
Although I can only speculate on the reactions demonstrated in the
privacy of the crew's quarters, there were frequent emotional
outbursts that occurred in the public areas of the ship.  Our chief
medical officer, Doctor Boyce, kept referring to it as, "Not a dry eye
in the house."  I did not fully understand this reference since we
were on a ship and not in a private dwelling, but I did not question
him since he, too, seemed on the threshold of a sentiment-based
emotional display.

Those humans within my presence seemed to resent the fact that I was
not on the verge of one of these emotional tirades.  I was quite aware
of the atypical coolness directed toward me as the officers stood
outside the shuttle bay, awaiting the arrival of the new captain.  I
accepted that this as another of the frequent periods that I must
endure, as does one who chooses to serve with an illogical, emotional
species.  Kaiidth.

I had received the announcement as to who would become our new
commander with logical reservations.  The name, James Kirk, was not
unknown.  All who had access to media reports had become familiar with
the accounts of heroism with which he was frequently attributed.  The
members of the media seemed intent on conveying every achievement of
the young, charismatic officer who was moving quickly through the
ranks of Starfleet and possessed the "boyish good looks" that seemed
an essential component for such adulation.  Starfleet, itself, aided
their efforts since they were reaping the benefits of the propaganda
and riding the wave of popularity this officer was affording them.

While those around me seemed to concentrate more on his aesthetic
qualities, especially those female members of the crew, I chose to
spend some time researching his record.  Captain Kirk had been awarded
accolades that officers many times his age had yet to achieve.  On
three separate occasions, he had been commended for saving the crews
with which he served.  Taken at face value, his credentials were
impressive.  However, as I researched further, I formed the opinion
that many of the achievements with which he had been credited had been
accomplished through acts of rash, sometimes illogical, behavior.  I
began to believe that equally favorable outcomes may have been
achieved with less flamboyant tactics.

He was the youngest officer to be promoted to captain within
Starfleet.  His peers considered this fact alone commendable.
However, it had been my observation that years of experience often
tempered youthful exuberance.  Therefore, although I accepted that he
would become my commander and was prepared for his arrival, certain
that I would give him the same respect that I had given to each of the
commanders under whom I had served, I had concerns that he did not
possess the experience necessary to command the premier ship in the
fleet.  It would not be an understatement to say that I had genuine
doubts about Captain James Kirk.

It was announced that the shuttle had arrived and the bay was being
pressurized.  The somberness that had existed among the crew over
Captain Pike's departure seemed to mutate into anticipation among most
of the officers…our CMO being the one exception.  Pike's departure
three days before had seemingly affected our chief surgeon quite
deeply.  I noted that as he stood beside me, he wiped his eyes with
something that looked like one of the absorbent surgical pads from
sickbay before he placed it roughly into his pocket and straightened
to attention.  This incessant aptitude of humans to so entwine their
emotions around another, oft times to the extent that moisture leaked
from the tear ducts, was foreign to me.  Then the doors leading to the
shuttle bay opened, and he walked through.

There is no logical way to explain what happened to me on that day,
no…much less time than that, in that instant.  Something within my
soul began to stir even before he came to stand in front of me.
Perhaps it was his stature as he walked confidently down the
ceremonial carpet.  Perhaps it was the sapient gaze that swept his
surroundings, as if this ship had always belonged to him, as if she
had just been awaiting his arrival.  Whatever the cause, his presence
provoked an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation within me.

As Number One was introducing him to each member of the command staff,
he would stop and speak to each.  He was conversing first with Mr.
Scott about the condition of the engines.  Each word spoken by him
sent a most disturbing vibration reverberating through me, as if the
tight strings of a ka'athyra had been plucked savagely and then
released.

He moved down the line and acknowledged the chief navigator.  This was
someone new to the crew, Mr. Mitchell, to whom he seemed to have some
type of previous association.  He spoke to both the chief helmsman and
the chief of security.  My initial reaction only grew more intense as
he grew closer.  My heart seemed to be pounding ferociously in my
side.  My circulatory system seemed to be pumping an excess of blood
to my head and the dizzying result was a thrumming of each heartbeat
in my ears.  I hoped he would move past me, that he would not
acknowledge me until I had been given an opportunity to meditate and
calm this internal turbulence that his arrival had created.

He moved to where he was directly in front of the doctor and stated
that he had heard many good things from Captain Pike about the CMO's
abilities.  He hoped that routine maintenance of the crew was all they
would have to face, but expected Boyce to be prepared for the
unpredictable.  Boyce assured him that he was.

Then his eyes turned to meet mine.  With two short steps, he was
standing in front of me.  As we were introduced, he smiled, a
half-smile, and nodded briefly.

"Mr. Spock," he stated.  And with those words, the mere sound of my
name on his lips, I felt as if my equilibrium was faltering.  I had an
overwhelming urge to fall to my knees before him.

As he stood in front of me expressing the importance of the science
department, I could only concentrate on the glimmering, gold-flecked
eyes that seemed to be ripping into my very soul.  I managed to summon
all of the fortitude instilled within me so that I could respond in an
appropriate manner.  I told him that as the chief science officer, I
could assure him the science department would be ready and at his
disposal at any time he required it.  He smiled again at me, and I
knew from that moment what it would be to worship this man.  My fate
was sealed; I knew I must accept it.

After all the introductions had been made, and Number One had departed
for her new assignment on the very shuttle that had ferried him to the
ship, it was expected that the senior officers would attend a
reception that had been arranged to welcome the new captain.  Prior to
meeting Captain Kirk, I had no intention of staying for the duration
of this, mostly social, affair.  However, after meeting him, I could
not bring myself to leave.  Over the course of the afternoon he made a
point of speaking personally with every officer in attendance, but he
seemed to spend most of his time with Lieutenant Mitchell.  For some
inexplicable reason, the intimate way in which they seemed to converse
created new, undefined feelings of anxiety within me.  Try as I might,
I could not take my eyes from him.

I should have experienced shame and recrimination for the sensations
that were surging within me.  I did not.  It was as though I had been
introduced to the other half of myself, the half that I had never
before known was missing, the half that would make me whole.  I knew
that in whatever capacity this man would need me, I would be there.
Should he need information, I would be there to inform.  Should he
need protection, I would be there to protect.  Should he need air, I
would give him my breath.  How could it be any other way?  He was a
part of me.  How does one deny from one's self the necessary
components for life?  To do otherwise, would be the most illogical of
all.

Stop recording.

---
Chapter 2


Record.

I have left Gol.  I was prepared to never again see the universe from
any higher than from what the walls of that structure allowed.  For
the first time in eighteen Vulcan seasons, I am looking again upon the
terrain of my home planet.  But my answers lie much further away than
even this expanse.  I know the next stop in my journey is one hour,
sixteen point three minutes away.  Therefore, since I am afforded the
privacy of the remote-driven shuttle, I shall use this time to
continue.

I remember that in those first days following my introduction to
Captain James T. Kirk, I was able to regain some semblance of
emotional balance only through the aid of extensive meditation.  But
even after serving four full duty shifts with him, I still had
difficulty controlling the muscular contortions that had the annoying
tendency to pull at my lips when I was in his presence.  It would take
many more weeks to begin to master this disposition toward smiling at
him and, even after serving many years together, I continued to have,
albeit infrequent, slips.

On the evening of the fifth day under his command, I arrived in my
cabin and noted the flashing light on the comm.  It was a message from
him.  He wished to converse with me at my first opportunity,
privately.  I paged him immediately.  He requested that I come to his
cabin at eighteen hundred hours.  At exactly seventeen hundred fifty
nine, I arrived at his door.  Waiting the few seconds until I was
certain that ships time coincided with my expected appointment, I
keyed the signal.

"Come," he responded, and the door slid open.       He was seated at
his desk with an array of data chips spread out around him.  Packing
crates were stacked along the barrier to his sleeping quarters.
Through the mesh screen, I noted the dress uniform he had worn for his
arrival days earlier had been tossed haphazardly across a chair.  He
had obviously spent little time in his living quarters since taking
command.

"Mr. Spock," he stated, and the furrowed brow he had worn for just
that brief moment as his eyes moved from the computer screen, relaxed
into a genuine smile as he stood to greet me.  "Thanks for agreeing to
see me here.  I'm afraid I haven't had time to get settled in, but I
want to get crew assignments taken care of before we leave the
quadrant.  The last of our crew should be arriving tomorrow and I want
to be ready to slot them in."

"Understood, Captain," I replied.  Although I had yet to feel guilt
for my reaction to him, guilt being the one true emotion that is still
acceptable as a learning tool among Vulcans, I did wish that the sound
of his voice and the smile on his face did not unnerve me so.

"Please, have a seat."  He motioned at the chair positioned in front
of his desk.

I was grateful for this offer.  My lower extremities still seemed to
become quite unstable in his presence.  He seated himself in the desk
chair and faced me.  Although I had perceived an elegance about him
when he was dressed in the formal accouterments, the effect was even
more striking now that he had taken to wearing the duty uniform.  The
green with gold insignia shirt seemed to be designed specifically to
match his eyes.  The material hugged him snugly, defining his
well-proportioned form.  As a Vulcan, the concept of beauty within
each culture is accepted as a universal constant.  This man was the
epitome of that principle.

"Spock," he began, and the sound of him speaking my name without the
formal 'Mister,' or 'Lieutenant,' before it, seared a hole into me.
"I am in the position of needing to assign someone to the
second-in-command spot.  Unfortunately, I have a dilemma."

He paused and looked at me as if waiting on a response.  Therefore, I
commented, "I see, Captain Kirk. Would you care to explain?"

"I have a crew member assigned to one area, an area that I really need
him to stay in due to his expertise in this department, but I wish for
him to serve as my second, as well."

I was certain he was speaking of Lieutenant Mitchell, someone who had
been assigned, seemingly, at Captain Kirk's request.  The ease at
which they associated with one another had been the source of
disturbing waves of unpleasantness within me.  I was used to the
familiarity that formed between humans, but there seemed to be a
camaraderie that existed between them, making their relationship
closer than just that of crewmates.  However, he was looking to me for
information and I would only give him the best information at my
disposal.  Although it was unusual for the chief navigator to serve as
the second-in-command, it was not unheard of.  Perhaps he was unaware
of this fact.  Therefore, I stated, "Captain, there should be no
conflict with the navigator serving in this position.  It has been
arranged on the Lexington, as well as on several smaller ships in the
fleet."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that, and Gary is too.  As a matter of fact,
he believes that's why I requested him for this mission.  It's
something that I will have to discuss with him.  You see, Gary
Mitchell isn't my first choice.  My first choice is the head of a
department not normally considered on the chain of command.  My first
choice is the head of the science department."

Few times in my life have I been uncertain of what I have heard.
Once, in the throes of fever created after stepping between I'Chyia
and a wild sehlat and receiving an infectious bite wound from the
threatening animal, I had gone through a period of three days when I
could hear voices, but was unable to decipher their meaning.  I
suddenly discerned an unsettling sensation--as if I had been thrown
back into the grip of that same fever.  I could hear his words but,
for a period of four point nine seconds, I could not comprehend their
meaning.  "Captain Kirk," I finally managed, "are you asking me to
accept the position of first officer?"  My Vulcan demeanor slipped and
my surprise was shamefully evident.  I could feel my eyebrows had
climbed.

Inexplicably, this seemed to widen his smile.  "Yes, I am," he
replied.

Recouping my demeanor, I stated, in what I hoped would be a more
steady tone, "I have never desired command, Captain, and Starfleet has
never assigned a Vulcan to that position on any ship other than those
crewed solely by Vulcans."

His smile faded as he became more serious.  "Well, at my request,
they're willing to overlook that.  It's a move long overdue in my
opinion.  Spock, I've read the reports and I've taken these few days
onboard to watch you in action.  I know what you're capable of.
You're the best in the fleet as science officer, and the ship needs
you in that position.  I also know that I need you in charge when I
can't be.  There's no one in the fleet who I feel meets the standards
that I want for this crew better than you.  I want to be able to rely
on your insights and your opinions without feeling the need to go
through someone whose judgment I may not value as highly as I do
yours.  I know I'm asking a lot of you, both positions are equally
demanding, but will you consider this duel post?"

How could I deny him?  Up until that point, command had not been a
desire.  But I knew that for him, I would strive to be the best
commander that I could be.  "Yes, Captain Kirk, I will accept."

He stood up so quickly that it startled me.  "That's great, Spock!" he
declared and held out his hand.  "Welcome to my team.  I promise you,
we're going to have the best crew in the galaxy before we're done!"

I reached out my hand and he grasped it tightly, giving it one strong
shake before releasing it.  It was the first touch between us and in
that first, brief contact, a feeling of completeness rushed in to
replace the mere contentment that had existed within me before.

He reseated himself behind the desk and placed his elbows on the top,
resting his chin on the thumbs of his entwined hands.  His eyes seemed
to shine and the smile was genuine as he said, "I will forward your
acceptance immediately.  Now, have you had dinner?"

"No, Captain, I have not," I replied truthfully.  I had not thought
about sustenance since the end of the duty period, and it had been
almost a full day since I had refueled myself.

"Neither have I, and I'm starving.  What do you say to ordering in?
We have a lot to do tonight, and several crew members to meet with."

"That shall suffice, Captain Kirk," I replied.

"Good," he nodded as he keyed his order into the computer and turned
it so I was able to do the same.  Once the order had been sent, he
leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his midsection.
"Now, since we're going to be working so closely together, we've got
to get the formality out of the way.  Given the fact that I hope we
can get to the point of being comfortable around each other, you're
welcome to call me 'Jim.'

It was as if he was handing me the most precious of presents.  I
attempted to stem my enthusiasm and after careful thought, replied, "I
would not feel comfortable calling you by your given name while on
duty.  However, calling you by your given name in an off duty setting
is acceptable."

"That's reasonable.  I can agree to that," he smiled.  "Now, let's get
down to business.  Dr. Boyce has tendered his intent to retire and I
need to assign a new CMO.  Dr. Piper is available for the short term,
but I have requested Dr. McCoy for our permanent replacement.  He
should be able to join us in a few weeks.  I've known Leonard McCoy
since my training days on the Republic.  I think the two of you will
get along...well, on second thought, it may be a bit of a challenge,
but he's the best the fleet has to offer and we're lucky to get him."
There seemed to be a curious gleam in his eye that accompanied that
statement.  I did not understand what he meant at that moment.
However, with the doctor's arrival, it soon became quite clear that
his use of the term 'challenge' was an understatement.

He continued, "The first of the crew we need to deal with is Gary
Mitchell.  Before the general announcement is made, I owe it to him to
let him know that I've placed you in the second-in-command position.
Like I told you, Gary is expecting me to name him.  We were friends at
the academy and he's an excellent navigator.  But Gary is...well,
let's just say he has difficulties controlling his temper at times, a
trait that has kept him from moving up on the command ladder.  I'll
speak to him alone, if you want me to, but right from the beginning I
would like to show a strong, consolidated command team to the crew,
all of the crew.  Do you want to stay while I tell Gary of my
decision?"

"Yes, Jim, I shall stay," I replied.  And stay I did, at his side, for
the next four years, nine months and twenty-one point eight days.  I
will not go into the many situations we encountered together, some of
which I had feared him to be dead, once at my own doing.  I shall only
say that over that period of time I came to know the meaning of
friendship, not only from the captain, but also from the equally
exasperating Leonard McCoy, as well as the command team.  Where those
before had merely tolerated me, this crew came to accept me, and I
felt the stirrings of emotional ties to each and every one.  Under
scrutiny, I remained steadfast in my denials of such ties, but I was
quite aware of their existence.

This course of action I now regret.  Had I been more forthright about
my feelings, especially with the albeit illogical but frequently
insightful doctor, then the events that transpired may have been
avoided.  Leonard McCoy came to know me as well as anyone on the ship
and, in those last days, knew my failures better than anyone, even
better than I knew them myself.

As for Jim Kirk, I began to realize that the depth of my caring for
this man exceeded my abilities to deny the multitude of intense
emotions that he had awakened within me; not the least of those being
love, anger, loyalty, passion, admiration and jealousy.  But more than
that, I came to trust him in a way that I had never allowed myself to
trust another being.  What I had mistakenly perceived as flamboyance
was confidence and intelligence that far exceeded the chronology of
his years.  I had never before encountered such a brilliant tactician,
as his abilities to consistently challenge me in chess proved.  I was
powerless over controlling these feelings and was only successful in
not betraying myself to him for the afore mentioned period of time.
But betray myself I did, and in doing so I betrayed him. 

Stop recording

---
Chapter 3


Record.

I have arrived at the home of my parents.  My mother was predictably
pleased that I am no longer secluded within the gates of Gol.  I was
less prepared for my father's generous recognition of my position as,
once more, a member of the family unit in the House of Sarek.  It was
a right I had given up the day I dedicated myself to a life in the
pursuit of logic, and one which he was not bound to reinstate.  The
fact that that he was not displeased with my failure at Gol was most
unexpected.  I had anticipated neither his acceptance of the
circumstances which precluded my departure from that ancient temple,
nor his understanding of my need for the quest at hand.

Knowing that private transportation would be necessary for
intercepting that which I seek, Sarek has acquired approval from the
Vulcan Council for me to have use of a diplomatic shuttle.  He assured
the members of the council that, since I am a competent pilot, there
would be no need for anyone, other than myself, to undertake this
mission.  On these conditions, they agreed to his request.  As I wait
in his study, he is overseeing the supplying of the vehicle for the
journey ahead.  For this show of kindness, I am grateful.

Realizing that the entity I had sensed is the same powerful force that
has entered the solar system and is on a collision course for Earth, I
knew my first step would be to contact Starfleet.  I deduced that it
would only be logical that they would have a squadron in route to
investigate this phenomenon.  Considering my background, I assumed
that I would be allowed to join the investigative team.  But even if
my request had been declined, I was prepared to do whatever was
necessary to find this phantom, feel it against me once more, and join
with that which has stolen my resolve.

However, due to the urgency being felt throughout the Federation,
Admiral Nogura accepted my offer of assistance without hesitation.
The admiral authorized me to proceed at best possible speed to the
ship that is on an intercept course toward the massive cloud.  The
ship I am to rendezvous with is…the Enterprise.

While speaking with the Starfleet Admiral, using the computer in my
father's study, I accessed the information regarding the ship and
noted that Captain Decker was in command.  I advised Admiral Nogura
that I would report to Captain Decker immediately upon my arrival.  In
a tone that seemed to denote caution, he informed me that Decker had
been given a grade reduction to Commander and that Admiral James Kirk
had been named captain for this mission.  It is Kirk to whom I will
report and, the admiral advised me, it shall be left to the acting
captain's sole discretion as to whether or not my commission would be
reactivated.

The ancient teachings of my people theorize that time consists of
eddies and folds in which important events and persons that impact our
destiny will intersect along our path.  There is no way to circumvent
such encounters.  It is as though I have just been swept into one of
those folds of time, plunging headlong toward the point at which I
will once again intersect with he who has most affected me.  Perhaps
this is to be my opportunity to correct that which has caused so much
pain in the past.  Perhaps this will be my period of atonement.  I
must accept that as the reasoning for why I am on my way to face the
very one I expected never again to see.

I am uncertain as to whether he will accept my assistance.  It may be
that he will press those formal charges against me that he did not
have the opportunity to do so before.  That would be his right.  If
that is to be, then I will abide by his decision.  It may be that the
crew that was so willing to accept me before will now hold me up to
ridicule.  There would be just cause.  Whatever is to be, I will
endure.  There would be no action or punishment levied against me that
I would consider too severe for the acts that I have committed.  As
difficult as it is to face my past, I must remember every detail of
that time so that I will not repeat those same errors in judgment.

I recall that in those last weeks, the fact that the mission was
ending had consumed my thoughts.  In the days before we were ordered
to beam down to investigate the Romulan settlement, I had begun to
feel the burning that was stirring within me.  I was aware that the
interrupted time of bonding had interfered with my traditional cycle
of mating, but the realization that I would soon be separated from Jim
was certainly a factor that instigated the fever that was beginning to
burn within me.

As I had done once before, I made an appeal to Starfleet headquarters
to have leave time assigned.  And, as it had been once before, my
request was denied.  This time, however, I chose not to approach the
captain with my request.  I knew that had he been aware of the
circumstances, he would have done all in his power to see that my
needs were met.  Once before he had suffered the recrimination of
disobeying orders on my behalf, and I could not allow that to happen
again.

Another factor that kept me from actively pursuing transportation to
Vulcan was the knowledge that, had I been allowed to return to my home
planet, it would have been a stranger who would have been assigned to
see me through the Burning.  The one I would have chosen as my
bondmate, Jim, seemed incapable of the type of commitment I required.
And, I could not bring myself to approach him regarding such a private
matter.  Therefore, suffering the effects of the fever alone, whatever
the outcome, seemed a more appealing alternative than that which would
await me had I defied orders and returned to the place of my birth.

When in the following days the symptoms did not become unbearable, I
concluded that the intensity of this cycle was not to be as severe as
my first and, with extensive meditation, I could control this onset of
my biological cravings.  Even so, I should have excused myself from
the mission.  But he needed that which I could offer, namely my
language skills and my ability to blend in with the Romulan
population.  Too, the situation was a dangerous one and I had vowed
that I would be there to protect him under any circumstance that was
within my control.  It was a silent promise made to myself, and to
him, on that first day.  Therefore, I convinced myself that I was
capable of suppressing those desires for which my nature was calling.  

The first break in my control occurred when a Romulan guard discovered
Jim inside the main computer bunker.  Because of time constraints, Dr.
McCoy had performed only minimal reconstruction to the captain's ears,
and had left his eyebrows in their natural state.  The guard was not
the first in this all-male society who seemed intrigued and aroused by
what was perceived as my companion's effeminate appearance.  The guard
was, however, the first who became intent on taking advantage of the
privacy afforded in the deserted structure.

The hour was late when Jim moved to the lower level of the bunker to
disarm the entrance of the main computer room.  I remained on the
surface to watch for any who would approach from the main compound.
With the aid of the concealed com-link in our uniforms, he was to
advise me when he had accessed the room.  At that time, I would
descend to the lower level and accompany him.  However, before this
could be accomplished, he was taken by surprise by a lone guard on
duty inside the structure.  Jim was quickly overpowered.

Through the voices that were being transmitted through the
communicator, I knew that the universal translator was not conveying
to Jim the seriousness of the situation.  Only my comprehension of the
rudimentary Romulan language, it being a derivative of one of the
primordial Vulcan tongues, allowed me to understand the invasive,
physical act the guard was determined to perform.  It was apparent
that my human companion was going to be unable to thwart the advances
of the Romulan and, if action were not taken, the guard would be
successful in his efforts to attack Jim, sexually.

It seemed as though it took much longer than the actual three point
eight minutes for me to access the level of the structure where the
assault was taking place.  Although he was fighting valiantly against
the powerful Romulan, by the time I reached them the guard had Jim
pinned against the wall, had already exposed himself and was
attempting to lower the back of Jim's trousers.  Witnessing such
actions against he who I desired, fueled the growing fires within me.
I leapt on top of the attacker and rendered him unconscious.

Once on the ground, I grasped the throat of the would-be rapist in my
hands, twisting his neck in such a manner that would have surely
resulted in his death in a matter of seconds.  Had it not been for Jim
laying his hand on mine, and the caring I felt through his touch, I
would surely have killed the Romulan.

"Spock," he soothed, as he placed his hand over mine, "it's okay.  Let
him go."

At that, I stopped the pressure against the cartilage in the guard's
throat, but did not release my grip altogether.  "Do you not
understand what he was going to do to you?" I growled at Jim, the
adrenaline surging strong within me.

He moved his hand as if he was going to touch my face but, instead, he
laid it on my shoulder.  A shadow of the half-smile that I had become
so accustomed to, appeared on his lips when he replied, "Yeah, I have
a pretty good idea.  There are just some actions you don't need a
translator for.  But I'm okay, thanks to you, so let him go.  You
don't need to do this."

I relaxed my grip.  Not because I no longer had the desire to kill the
guard, but because this was the man to whom I could deny nothing.  It
was not the first time I experienced a nearly overwhelming urge to
take him in my arms and comfort him.  On one other occasion, also
battling against the effects of the mating fever, it took all of my
fortitude to resist an "emotional outburst," as the doctor called it,
after discovering that I had not killed him.  However, as I had done
in those times before, I resisted the urges in deference to him and
the duty at hand.

The next hours were difficult ones.  Gaining access to the main
computer, we disarmed its capabilities to either send or receive
transmissions, the primary reason for the base.  We were unable to be
transported to the Enterprise due to the ship being engaged with a
compliment of Romulan battle cruisers, a possibility Jim had foreseen
prior to our arrival on the planet.  We had survival packs stored in a
secluded cave in the event we would be stranded for an extended period
of time.  With some effort, we breached the security shield and
escaped into the rugged landscape of the rocky terrain. 

My controls again in place, I declined the offer of water when we
reached our supplies.  The purging of the remaining emotions required
my fasting for a period of twenty-four hours.  However, the dryness of
the atmosphere and the intensity of the hours since my encounter with
the guard were proving to be most disadvantageous in this pursuit.
These were not the last factors that would arise, challenging my
capabilities to control that which had sprung to life within me.

The first obstacle was Jim, himself.  As we traveled through the
constricted passages of the cave, I frequently found myself in close
physical contact with him.  Humans, especially this human, prided
himself on the cleanliness of his body.  And although I found the pine
scent of the cleaning formulas he used a pleasant sensation, it was
the times such as this when there lay on his skin the faint smells of
his natural musk that seemed to arouse me to the greater extent.
Often there had been times I had to give in too quickly during
sparring sessions because of that scent.  The sweet, slightly acrid
odor that was associated with only him would threaten my determination
to conceal my physical attraction to him.  It was this same arousing
scent of his maleness that would permeate my olfactory glands when he
would brush against me inside the narrow passages of the cave.

The second impediment occurred when, in my trying to distance myself
from him, I dislodged the small stones along one wall, which served as
the support structure for the passageway.  The result of my
carelessness was the raining down of dirt and rocks.  One of the
larger stones struck my head, causing a temporary disorientation.
Before the passage collapsed completely, Jim pulled me from the
falling debris.

Once a safe distance from the collapsed area in the tunnel, he threw
down his pack and turned to me.  He grabbed me by my shoulders and
asked me if I was 'okay'.  I assured him that I was.  However, as if
needing to reassure himself, he brushed the loose debris from my head
and ran his fingers through my hair.  He noted that I had a noticeable
swelling at the back of my scalp, but his hands did not leave me.
Those fingers rested at the back of my neck and I could feel his
gratitude that I was still alive, and his desire to pull us closer.
It was a sensation I had felt often from him over those years through
the melds and touches we had become accustomed to sharing.  But, just
as in all the times before, I then felt his desire cool and the doubts
within him arise; and he released me.     It was then we discovered
that the pack and equipment I had been carrying now lay permanently
encased within the heavy pile of stones that sealed the passage.  The
tricorder, which had been strung across my shoulder, was the only
equipment that I still had in my possession.  Our water supply, half
of our food stores, the med kit, my communicator and my phaser were
hopelessly lost.  Where he would have had sufficient cause to become
quite angry with me, he did not.

Instead, he ran his fingers down my sleeve.  "It's okay, Spock," he
soothed.  "You're safe.  That's all that matters.  We'll get by on
what we have left.  There's water in these walls.  We'll just have to
find a spot where we can collect some of it."

I could only nod a reply.  His concern for my welfare over the loss of
those items, supplies that could prove to be the difference between
life and death, caused a lump to swell within my throat and speech to
become impossible at that moment.  Taking the tricorder, I adjusted
the settings to read as well as possible within the mineral-rich
cavern.  It also gave me a chance to calm the upsurge of emotion that
had arisen within me.  When I knew I could speak without betraying
myself, I advised him of the coordinates of another cavern, one that
may contain the water we would need.

It took nearly three hours to navigate to the other cave beneath the
planet's surface.  I still felt the area of my neck where his hands
had rested.  My controls were slipping and the effort to bury them
once more was hindered by the need to stop the pain that was growing
at the site of the scalp injury.  I knew I needed time to mediate, but
I could see Jim was struggling against dehydration and finding water
for him was my first duty.

I watched him as he walked ahead of me.  Occasionally he would look
back, his concern for me evident in his eyes.  The fever building
within me would no longer be silenced.  I watched his body as it
twisted and maneuvered within the narrow passages, seemingly calling
out to me.  I could think of nothing beyond curving my body against
him, having his angles press back against me.  I wanted to touch his
mind and have him open up to me without reservation.  I wanted him to
accept me in the same way he often allowed McCoy to come to him.

Indeed, I was quite aware of their relationship.  The shared melds had
shown me quite clearly what they were to each other.  But it was often
the doctor, himself, who unknowingly confirmed when these acts were
taking place.  On twenty-nine different occasions, as I was making my
way to my cabin after an evening of research, I encountered McCoy in
the corridors, his appearance disheveled and the scent of my captain
still clinging to him.  These moments would always create a degree of
resentment to build within me, normally leading to several days of
increased hostility to exist between the CMO and myself.

I had not yet achieved my first bonding; therefore I was not
personally experienced in the acts that took place between them.
However, as a scientist, my first instinct is to investigate and
research that which I do not fully understand.  Within days of my
first realizing their encounters, I was well versed in the actions
that were possible between them.

It was these mental images that accompanied me through the cave
passages.  The pain in my head grew worse and ripped the remainder of
my controls away from me.  By the time we reached the openness of the
cavern room, the fever had consumed me.  Somewhere, deep inside, I
still fought against that which I knew was now hopeless.  I began to
shake and my legs would no longer support me.  I fell to the ground.
Then, I felt his hands on me.  Smoothing the hair away from my
forehead, his fingers stroked down my face and his hand rested on my
chest; each touch stirring the embers that had grown white-hot within
me.  I felt his fear, but I could not comfort him.

He released the small cape attached to his uniform and covered me.  He
could not know that it was not cold, but the fire of unquenched
passions that caused my body to convulse.  He could not know that I
was dying.  However, I was, and I knew I must accept it.  For, to
survive, I would need to betray that which I have worked so hard to
forge--the trust of my captain, Jim, the other half of my being.  I
knew I could not utter the words to request he join with me.  It is
not spoken of in my culture.

In those that follow the ancient traditions, the bond is arranged when
one is but a child, with the foreknowledge that your bondmate had
already been chosen for you, that your roles were accepted.  Among
those following a more modern philosophy, even then it is a choice
made and agreed to long before the time of the joining is to occur.
Even for those few who were foolish enough not to make the necessary
preparations, there were arrangements that could be made with those
dedicated to serve.  But under no circumstance was a joining something
to be embarked on under duress, as was this case.  I knew I was doomed
because I was forbidden to ask for what I needed from Jim to survive.

Perhaps it was that realization that my survival was no longer within
my control that calmed me.  Although I should have refused drink, I
greedily accepted his offer of water and, through his touch as he
lifted my head, I felt his deep-seated concern for me.  Gently, he
laid my head down and his hand again stroked my forehead and rested
against the side of my face.  "Spock, what is it?  Can you tell me
what's wrong?" he asked.

I attempted to shake my head, but the pain was too great.  Reaching
up, I covered his hand with my own.  "Jim," I managed, my resolve to
follow the teachings of my people slipping away.  "I need you…Don't
leave me," I pleaded, as the fever consumed me.  The betrayal had
begun.

"I won't leave you," he assured me.  "Trust me, Spock, I'm not going
anywhere without you," he whispered.  But he did not lie beside me,
did not understand what it was that I was asking of him.

Through those next hours my body calmed.  I knew either he would come
to me, or I would die.  I had accepted this.  The decision would have
to be his.  Although my condition made him most uncomfortable, my
aroused state was something I could no longer hide from him.

When he left me to go to the pool, it was obvious that he had made his
decision, that he had chosen to reject that which I required of him.
I watched him as he pulled the clothing from his body.  I watched as
the water slid over him.  The pain of seeing the smooth, rounded flesh
that I craved, and could not have, was agonizing.  I laid back and
awaited my fated death.

Stop recording.

---
Chapter 4


Record.

The shuttle that will take me to the Enterprise has broken free of
Vulcan's orbit.  In one point seven solar days, I shall be facing him.
I feel that I must have this record complete and my controls, those
left to me by the entity, firmly intact before I can face what is
ahead.  Therefore, although I find it most distasteful, I shall
continue recording my recollections of that time.

I was certain that the madness that would precede my death was close.
I knew I should leave him and go out into the endless tunnels where I
could not be seen, but I knew he would try to follow and we would both
be lost.  To leave him, alone and unprotected on this desolate planet,
was against all that I had promised.  And, selfishly, I knew it would
be better to die at his side, looking into that face that had brought
me such comfort, than to die alone.  Therefore, I stayed.

But he did not let me go through the madness alone.  He came to me,
laid beside me, the drops of water clinging to his body.  He rolled
toward me and allowed me to see his arousal.  His decision had been
made.  He had accompanied me at the time of my failed bonding and he
was aware of what he was offering.  At his suggestion, I went to the
pool of water and cleansed myself, readied myself for him.  When I
returned, he was lying prone upon the mat of clothing and I stood at
his feet watching the beautiful man who would be my bondmate.  His
knees were bent and his thighs spread.  His hand slowly stroked the
length of his organ.

I noticed that his eyes were half-lidded.  I had observed that
expression on his face--one of passion--as he pursued his numerous
conquests through the years.  Then his eyes opened.  I realized that
those eyes were gazing up at me, that he was now prepared for this
conquest.  "Spock," he whispered.  "Come here," he invited as he
spread his thighs further apart.

The white embers within me exploded into an inferno and consumed me.
I could see only him through the fiery blindness of the fever.  I
knelt between his legs and knew that I must claim him in a way that
would seal our bond.  I touched his legs and felt his need and his
long seated desire for me.  He would be mine.  The blood would spill
between us and would make us whole.  I tilted him forward and pushed
the full length of my erect organ inside of him and, in one sharp,
searing thrust, felt the ripping away of my innocence.

I felt him struggle against me.  I lay upon him and I quieted his
distressed cries with my mouth, tasting that which I had longed for.
He fought against the pain; I knew it would be so.  But as our bond
strengthened, once he had become a part of me, he would accept those
things that were never spoken between bondmates, only understood.  I
withdrew and plunged forcefully back into him.  His life-giving fluid
began to mix with my own and the painful ecstasy sealed my soul to
his.  I was his.  He was mine.  He stopped struggling and I reached
for his mind.  Deeper than I had ever dared to before, my mind moved
into his as I allowed his to move toward me.  I felt resistance but
could not accept it.  I felt his pleas for this to stop, but I ignored
those and took that which belonged to me, his deepest thoughts,
disregarding that which I chose, reveling in that which I found
pleasurable.  Further into him I drove, both physically and mentally.

I carved a path through his thoughts, disregarding his insufficient
attempts to restrain me, seeking that which I had perceived from him
on many occasions.  With a surgeon's skill, I sliced through his brain
until I found that part of him which desired me, and I experienced the
lust and passions he had fought against since those first weeks
together; suppressed feelings of an intensity that were matched only
by my own.  It was here that I folded my mind into his, bonding us
together.

Now I could just experience him, my beloved, as my bondmate and my
lover.  The long wait was finally over for us both.  I tasted his
mouth, this time savoring the flavors of him, and felt the ecstasy of
having him clamped around me. 

I attempted to relay to him my deep regret over the opportunities we
had missed.  I knew I had only myself to blame.  He was my captain; he
could not come to me.  And, had I allowed him to know my attraction to
him--how I realized we were two halves of the same soul--perhaps we
would have found one other before he turned to someone else to satisfy
his needs.  It was then that I found the strong thread of emotion that
he held for McCoy.  The other.  The one who wore the title of a
friend, yet took Jim to his bed and made love to him.  The one who Jim
called on in those times of need.  My own anger boiled within me.  In
my fevered state, I felt rage toward the invader.

Harder I pushed into the body beneath me, tearing away the last
evidence of my virginity.  I welcomed the searing pain radiating from
us both, as if that alone could burn the memory of this other from
him.  I fused my mind to his; wanting to replace the need he had for
any lover other than myself.  Never again would McCoy take that which
belonged to only me.  My first.  My Jim.  The years of want, need,
desire to be a part of him was finally realized.  He was mine.  I
would forever be his.

His renewed hardness scraped against me as his fear turned toward the
fulfillment of the lust he had long since hidden from me.  I felt his
pleasure when my organ pressed against that certain spot buried deep
inside of him.  I angled my thrusts and felt him respond as he moved
toward orgasm.  This doubling and redoubling of pleasure triggered my
own release.

Although I knew the dynamics of sexual encounter, I was unprepared for
the heat that began deep within my abdomen and moved in swells toward
my groin.  Thrusting uncontrollably into my beloved, crashing waves of
ecstasy consumed me.  As I erupted within him, I shook with the nova
that rushed from my scrotum to every nerve in my body.  It was as
though I were being shattered into shards of blindingly brilliant
glass.  The rapturous joy of giving myself over to him defied any
pleasure I had ever before experienced.  If death had come at that
moment, I would have welcomed it.  My mind reached for his, needing to
grasp onto him, needing him to hold me together.  But I was met with
only a wall of fiery pain.

Something was wrong, terribly wrong.  This was not how it should be.
He should be sharing my pleasure, but he was not.

I pulled out of him.  He rolled off onto his side, pulled his knees
up, grabbed his midsection and moaned in agony.  His breaths came in
irregular gasps as if the very air invading his lungs was painful.  I
should have been able to hear his thoughts, should have known what was
hurting him, but his pain was blocking the bond that had been formed
between us.

Through the fever, I heard myself calling his name, but he did not
respond.  I saw the deep scratches that had been caused by the rough
ground beneath him and he recoiled as I touched this area of his back.
It was only after assuring myself that these were not deep that I
began to lightly trace a path down his spine.  I found no further
injuries until I had reached the crevice and felt the wetness
surrounding his rectal orifice.  Pulling back my fingers I noticed
they were stained with bright red blood, more than I had expected, and
the sticky substance that could only be the remnants of my own
release.     He then attempted to sit up, but the pain kept him from
doing anything more than rolling over onto his knees.  I can still
recall the anguish in his voice, the pained choke he emitted, as he
said,  "Oh, God!  Don't touch me!  God-damnit, Spock!  You've torn me
to pieces!" he gasped.

For perhaps the first time, I detected what could only be described as
panic descending upon me.  I had injured him, and I did not know how
badly.  We had no medical equipment with us, the minimal supplies
being lost with my pack earlier.

Even through his protests, I scooped him into my arms.  Through the
bond we now shared, I forced myself past his pain and resistance,
seeking and searching for those centers of his brain that would supply
me with the greatest information regarding his physical condition.  It
took several minutes to calm him enough to locate that which I sought.
Although there was damage, there seemed to be no permanent injuries
that he had sustained.  I set about to try to impose a healing trance
within him, but his determination to block any further intrusion into
his mind was quite powerful.

Through the bond I attempted to soothe him.  The hazel eyes opened and
looked at me.  Something akin to terror seemed to be shining from
those eyes, but I attempted to reassure him he had nothing to fear,
and to communicate those things that could not be spoken, even between
us.  I stroked my fingers down his face, touching upon each point that
would bring our minds closer, I wanted him to realize that I
comprehended his pain and to assure him that I would not invade his
tender area again until he was ready.  Yet the trepidation in his eyes
did not fade.

Above all else, I could feel his confusion and hurt at its most basic
level at being invaded in such a way.  It was as if he did not yet
understand the need for the actions that had taken place.  I decided
that once the physical pain had subsided, all else would be accepted.
Given our surroundings, I knew the best way to relieve the pain within
him.  Standing up, I lifted him and carried him to the pool of water.
He did not protest.

I entered the pool and eased him into the water.  When the water
contacted his back, he took a quick breath between his clenched teeth
and I could see him tense until the scrapes were fully emerged.  Once
he had relaxed, I began to wash him, starting with the injuries on his
back, and continuing on to his rectum.  He attempted to push away from
me when I first touched his entrance, but with the increasingly
comforting properties of the agents found in the water, he relaxed,
somewhat, and allowed me to complete the task.  Even thought my
primary reason for treating him was for his comfort, I did not find
the chance to explore and touch him unpleasant.  For those minutes,
his demeanor seemed to become increasingly tranquil and, although I
was still unable to reach his thoughts on a level that should have
been accessible to me, I believed that he was beginning to understand.

However, upon releasing him, he once again pushed away from me and
proceeded to try to exit the pool.  I assisted him, but then allowed
him to walk on his own to the area where our clothes lay.  I could see
he moved with difficulty and I felt his need for independence and
allowed him that.  He knelt and smoothed out the clothes into an area
for rest as efficiently as possible and laid down.  He turned onto his
side and was asleep quickly.  Finding some temporary measure of relief
from the fever, I meditated to stem my need for him, allowing him this
time to renew himself.  When the urges that were surging within me
were sufficiently cooled, although not quieted, I settled beside him.
Sleep claimed us both, although mine was significantly restless and
came with visions of my beloved and myself in most erotic positions.

It was not until he awoke and felt my hardness against him that he
rolled away.  He became quite vocal, and I began to realize the full
extent of his displeasure at the way in which I had taken him.  In the
hours that followed, he made it quite clear that the forcefulness in
which I initiated the intercourse was both unwelcome and unsolicited.
He referred to the bond that had been formed between us as a 'meld,'
and I began to suspect that he did not fully understand the extent of
the commitment he had entered into.  But the fever raged within me as
the bond I had created, a bond that he was seemingly still unaware of,
called to me.  I remember little of the hours that followed.  Once, I
heard him attempt to contact the ship and there was a small feeling of
relief within me when there was no response.  It would have been most
difficult to encounter the crew in the state I was presently in.
Death was no longer a possibility, but neither was the relief that I
would have found should I have ceased to exist.

But then I felt the coolness of his hands against my hot skin as he
laid them on my shoulders.  Even knowing that he had yet to understand
all that had passed between us did not stem the rush of desire that
ran through me with that touch.  Nor did the knowledge of these hidden
truths stop me from accepting that which he offered.  And the betrayal
continued.

Jim knelt behind me; his hands moved down my arms, his lips lay
against my hair.  He whispered words of comfort, told me he would not
let me suffer through the fever alone.  And, as I had greedily
accepted water from him in thirst just hours before, I accepted his
body to satisfy me.

Even now, two point six standard years later, it takes little effort
to remember the sensations associated with his touch.  Control is
difficult.  My body still stirs with the memory of how his lips and
hands felt against my skin, as if he was attempting to memorize the
taste and feel of me.  During this period of his exploration, he
discovered areas that I would not have normally considered sexually
arousing; the tips of my ears, the side of my neck, the length of my
spine, were just some of the areas that, with his touch, would send
shivers of sexual pleasure racing throughout me. 

He worked his way around until he was kneeling in front of me.
Placing his hand underneath my chin, he tilted my head up and kissed
me, gently at first, then with more urgency.  Breaking away from his
mouth I looked at him and saw the same passions in those gold-flecked
eyes that I had seen directed towards me earlier.  I raised my hand
and touched his head, expecting him to pull away, but he did not.  My
fingers traced the smoothness of his brow, the line of his chin, the
softness of his lips.  I leaned over and once again tasted his mouth.
I let my fingers glide down the side of his neck and traced the
muscles that comprised his smooth chest.  I traced a nipple and felt
it become taut under my touch.  I remember the soft moan that escaped
him and, as the wall of hurt between us began to break down, I felt
the pleasure that this action created within him.   

I felt his mind relax and allow me entry.  I wished nothing more than
to explore his beautifully, bright mind and his wonderfully,
fulfilling body.  The threads of the bond between us seemed strong,
stronger than a new bond should be.  It was as if what had culminated
on this day had begun forming long before.  As I relished in the
brightness of that mind, I saw the many ways in which we were bonded,
on so many levels.  So many events over the time we shared had pulled
us together and only that which existed between us, our love for one
another, had saved us.  No, this was not a new bond, but merely the
finale of that which we had started with each other during those first
days together.

I did not take him with the same vehemence in which I had that first
time, it was unnecessary.  He was mine.  I rolled the hard pebble
between my finger and thumb and his lips parted, slightly, and a small
gasp of air was sucked between them.  I watched as his arousal renewed
under my touch.  The fever within me wanted nothing more than the
selfish pleasures of fulfillment, but my mind, my heart, wanted to
watch him as he was brought through each level of desire.  With one
arm wrapped around his shoulders, his head resting against my arm, I
stroked down the tight abdomen and across the small ripples of skin
created from his kneeling position before me.  His arm rose and his
hand came to rest at the back of my neck.  Further down I caressed
him, finally able to explore this body that I had admired for so long.
When I found the soft patch of golden hair that surrounded his sex,
the fever within me once again ignited into a hot flame.  My swollen
organ craved his touch, and he felt my need.  Moving his hands to my
hips, he pulled us up to our knees and pressed us together.

It is impossible to verbalize the myriad of newly awakened passions
that I was experiencing as he pressed against me, willingly giving
himself to me.  I watched him as his eyes grew deep amber with the
excitement that he was feeling; the sexual tensions that were racing
through us both.  Hardness dueled against hardness as I pressed
against him, urgency building within us, both of us seeking relief.

He was at his most beautiful when he tensed in my arms and his body
shuttered.  His head rolled back and he moaned my name.  With one
word, "Spock," he shivered and his fluid splashed between us.
Wrapping my arms around him, I experienced the waves of the orgasm
that rushed through him.  So intent was I on his release, that it was
not until the last of the spasms had passed through him that I
realized my own ejaculate was spraying between us, mingling with his
semen, coating our abdomens and thighs with our fluid. Until that
moment, I had assumed that some form of orifice stimulation was
required for an orgasm to be achieved.  My research had evidently been
faulty.      We both fought to pull needed air into our lungs through
deep, spasmodic gasps.  But soon, our respirations began to return to
a more normal rate.  It was only then that his arms around my neck
relaxed.

Stop recording.

---
Chapter 5


Record.

I have once again experienced the bitter taste of failure.  In
remembering the feel of his touch against me, I surrendered to the
call of my flesh and manipulated myself in such a fashion as to cause
my seed to spill.  I must bear in mind that these are merely
reflections of those things that live in the past.  As I clean away
the evidence of this latest failing, I know I must find the strength
to discontinue the flow of emotions that arise with such
recollections.

However, through this exercise, I am beginning to understand that each
of my failures has occurred when I have allowed my emotions to be
compromised.  With Jim, I sought the fulfillment of those ancient
drives and lusts that he awoke in me.  With the entity, it was envy
that led me to seek out and capture the level of pure, unattainable
logic that I had failed to achieve on my own.  If I am to be
successful in achieving a command over my emotions, I shall have to
become more aware of this weakness that tempts me to find completeness
within any other than myself.  Even in that cave, when the fever had
cooled and the bond was new and I could have given back to Jim what I
had taken, I selfishly gave into the pleasures of the body and mind,
claiming that which was not mine to claim.

After we had rested sufficiently, Jim rose, took me by the hand and
led me back to the pool.  Releasing me, his golden body slid
gracefully beneath the surface of the water and immerged at the other
end.  Shaking the water from his eyes, he turned to me.  I scooped
handfuls of water and poured them over myself.  The temperature was
quite warm by human standards, but it was cool to me and felt good
against my fevered skin.  I washed myself and felt his eyes on me as I
cleansed my groin and the traces of our semen from my abdomen and
thighs.  I enjoyed having his eyes on me.  And, I discovered, I
enjoyed the feel of my hands as they stroked up the shaft of my penis.
The thin band of skin that had surrounded it for all my years was no
longer intact and the feel of any stimulus against the newly exposed
flesh was arousing.

Feeling clean, I swam to him and he was waiting for me.  His arms
folded around my neck as mine slid around his waist.   I claimed his
mouth, feeling the wonderment that his mouth was finally mine to
claim.  I pressed my erection against him and he pulled back and
smiled that lovely half-smile at me.

"Again?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered.  I could hear the changes in my voice that having
this man close to me caused, but Jim did not seem to mind.  He pulled
me to him and kissed me.  It was a moment that I had always
anticipated, yet never expected to occur.  In all of those years of
desiring him, loving him, I knew I would have to wait for him to make
the decision to come to me.  It was apparent that he had accepted all
that had passed between us.

His hand slid from my neck, beneath the water and between us.  Sliding
his hand up and down my arousal, he said, "I understand what's going
on with you, and I want you to know that I'm glad that I could be here
for you, this time.  You had me pretty scared, you know."

"Scared?" I asked him.

"Yes," he whispered.  "I didn't even think about it being pon farr.  I
thought you had injuries from the cave-in.  By the way, isn't this
supposed to happen only every seven years?  It's hasn't been quite
four years since you went to Vulcan, but that wasn't really completed,
was it?"

"No, Jim, it was not," I answered simply.

"So, is it true?" he asked.

"Is what true, my beloved?" I asked.

"It's just…well, I get the feeling that this is your…that I'm your
first.  Am I?" he smiled.

I thought it odd for a bondmate to ask such a question.  I decided
that perhaps it was just a trait in humans that they wish to be
assured of even those things they know to be true.  "Of course you are
my first, Jim," I assured him.

His smile broadened before he recaptured my mouth and brought me to
release with his hand.  His hands and mouth brought me to orgasm many
times over in that next day, even allowing me to taste his essence and
experience the pleasing sensation of having him spill his seed inside
of me.

After this last of many encounters, he pulled free, rolled over onto
the tangled mat of clothes and pulled me to him.  I looked down at
him, and his gaze turned up toward me.  "My God, Spock!  What is it
with us?  You're not going to believe this, but I swear I can feel you
through me."

After all of the years of fighting the urges to smile at him, it felt
good to finally allow my facial muscles to relax and do what they
wished.  "That is how it will be between us.  I, too, can feel you, my
love," I told him.  

"You can feel me?  That doesn't make any sense," he stated in obvious
confusion, and I realized that he had yet to understand all aspects of
the bond we shared.

"Through the bond we will be…aware of each other.  And during times of
physical contact, bondmates can actually feel the sensations of their
partner," I explained.

"Bondmates?  Do you mean we are literally bondmates?  I thought only
another Vulcan could form a bond between two people," he stated, his
voice becoming agitated.

"Yes, Jim," I assured him, "you are indeed my bondmate.  The
assistance of another is only needed when the two being bonded are not
so mentally synchronized as we are."

I attempted to kiss him, but his hands went to my chest as he resisted
against me.  "Wait just a damned minute.  You mean this, don't you?
We really are bonded?  I thought I was just experiencing some effect
from a intense meld, but it's much deeper than that, isn't it?"

"Yes, Jim," I answered, my patience growing thin.  "You are mine; I am
yours.  Ever and always touching and touched."

With his hands, he pushed harder until he was free of me.  He sat up
and, in doing so, I realized that the discomfort within him had not
subsided entirely.  "Spock, you have got to undo whatever it is you've
done.  It's not that I don't love you.  Hell, I think I have from the
beginning.  But I can't be married, or bonded, or whatever you want to
call it, to anyone, not even you…and certainly not now!  Being your
lover is one thing.  I've even tried to figure out how to approach you
regarding a relationship between us, but this…well, it just won't do."

His words stung me.  I had not considered that he would wish anything
less than a full bond between us.  I had not considered that he was
offering me any less when he presented himself to me.  My raw emotions
were riding dangerously close to the surface when I answered him in
haste.

"Jim, what is done, is done.  Kaiidth.  There is no turning back.  I
am unable to be just another of your casual encounters.  Neither am I
able to come to your bed only when it suits you, as the doctor has."

His eyes widened as his head snapped toward me.  "Bones?  How…how long
have you known?  How did you find out?"

"Since just after your first encounter," I answered honestly.  "I
became aware of your relationship through the melds I have shared with
the both of you."  It was a truthful answer that would suffice,
however incomplete.

"Does the rest of the crew know?" he asked.  His concern over this
discovery was evident.

"Not that I am aware of," I replied.  "I believe that I am the only
one who is cognizant of your frequent encounters with the doctor.
And, Jim, now that we are bonded, you must understand that such
encounters will have to cease immediately."  

He shook his head and stood up.  As I have seen him do before in times
of great stress, he began to pace the allowable length of the cavern.
"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed more than once.  "There's got to be a way
to undo this.  Spock, tell me that there is a way."

"I am unaware of a way to sever that which has been formed between
us."  I was quite aware that with the newness of the bond, and the
similarities in our thought patterns, there was at least a possibility
that I could have severed the bond.  With this untruth, the betrayal
was complete.  Perhaps as a feeble attempt to soften the dishonesty, I
added, "If there is an answer, it would be found on Vulcan."

He stopped his incessant movement and turned to me.  "Well, then,
that's the answer.  We only have a few weeks until the mission is
completed.  At that point, we'll have to go to Vulcan."

I did not reply.  I could not abide any suggestion that our bond, even
one that was as ill conceived in its origin as this one, and was being
kept intact through deceit, be destroyed.  The next hours were spent
in silence.

It was not until the fever had completely cooled that I began to
realize the full extent of my treachery.  He wished me for a lover,
nothing more.  I had taken that which did not belong to me and had
deceived him to keep that which I desired.

I placed myself into deep meditation in an attempt to assimilate the
events of the last thirty-six point two hours.  Even then, I could
feel the alternating waves of passion, concern and anger that emanated
from him.  I watched him as he would wash himself in the pool and I
felt the flashes of searing pain that still came from the wounds
inside of him.

When the time came, he attempted another contact with the ship.  This
time he was successful.  Mr. Scott advised us that the Romulans had
fled the sector and the ship would be in transporter range in just
over three hours.  I rose, washed myself and dressed.  Being our
original path was blocked, we found our way to a secondary exit out of
the cavern.  We remained silent during those hours as we proceeded
through the long, arduous passage that would take us into the open.
Reaching the exterior of the cave, he opened communications with the
ship and advised them of our location.

Mr. Kyle signaled that he had the coordinates and that beam-up would
occur in two minutes.

With that, he snapped the communicator shut and turned to me.  With
the same cold determination I had witnessed him use against the most
resolute of enemies, he insisted that what had happened between us
would remain only between us.  He stated that until a way could be
found to have the bond severed, that no one was to know what had
transpired.

I agreed to his wishes.

Stop Recording.

---
Chapter 6


Record.

I have taken time to refresh myself, eat a prepared meal and check my
positioning and the location of the Enterprise.  I am still on course
to intercept it.  I have also engaged in a short period of meditation
to quiet the remnants of emotions that threatened to arise within me.

Even though it would be more satisfying to turn away from these
memories, pushing them into the deep recesses where they have lived
these last years, to do so only invites another failure.  Only through
recalling these events and remembering that the outcome of such
self-indulgences is pain of the greatest sort, to all involved, will I
be prepared to accept what is to come.   Therefore, I must continue.
I am compelled to complete this task before my rendezvous with the
Enterprise.

I remember that on the very afternoon of our return to the ship, Jim
came to my cabin.  He stated that he had thought about the events of
the last days and decided he could accept what had happened between
us.  As long as the bond did not interfere with his ability to
command, he no longer wished for it to be severed.  He seemed to feel
that he would never find another that he felt as strongly toward, as
he did toward me.  He wanted me to disregard his earlier objections
and consent to share his life, in all ways.

I could not accept his offer.  It was not because I had lost my desire
for him.  On the contrary, it was because the emotions he had awakened
in me had become unmanageable.  I had allowed my passions to overrule
my judgment.  What had occurred between us was based on misconception,
corruption and deception of the greatest sort.  The way in which I had
claimed him was hateful to me.  I knew that it would become a cancer
between us, nullifying the strong attachment and passions between us
that the years together had cultivated.

I had committed Re'letli, the taking of one's mind against their will.
I knew that even if he was sincere regarding his ability to accept me,
that our bond would be cursed, not only by us, but also by my people
who would never accept a bondmate claimed in this reprehensible
manner.  It had only been within the last six generations that
Re'letli no longer carried the sentence of death.

But even worse than any criminal accusation that could be levied
against me, was the fact that I was guilty of committing the ultimate
offense against the very one I had vowed to protect.  I had broken his
trust in me.  There, standing before me, was the one who had
frequently offered up his life to save mine, had bestowed on me the
highest form of loyalty, had bequeathed me with a level of respect
that I had never expected to receive from another being, had entrusted
me with those things he held most dear-- his ship and crew, and had
come to lay beside me when I needed him.  I had repaid him with
half-truths, fallacies, erroneous information, and, I had come to
realize, rape of both his body and mind.

No, I could not accept that which he offered.  He was worthy of
better.  He deserved to have a companion who would bring to the
relationship those qualities that he best exemplified.  I was no
longer that man.  I advised him that what he was offering was not
possible.  I told him that arrangements would be made for us to travel
to Vulcan once the mission was completed, and that the bond would be
severed shortly thereafter.

Before I could explain the reasons for my rejection, Dr. McCoy arrived
in my cabin and insisted on speaking with me alone.  Jim initially
refused to leave, but relinquished at the doctor's repeated demands.
As Jim left my cabin, he turned back and asked me to reconsider my
decision.  I saw the pain behind those eyes, and the knowledge that I
had caused it, tore at me. 

I could not know that in just moments, I, myself, would experience the
ache of betrayal.  I had agreed to Jim's demand that the events of
those days would be revealed to no one.  However, once we were alone,
I found the doctor had been made aware of my behavior on the planet.
And, seemingly, my bondmate had spared very little of the details of
that time.  At his first opportunity, Jim had told all that occurred
to this man -- the other, the invader, the one he had gone to before;
Leonard McCoy.

With this revelation, I realized that my bondmate could not have hurt
me more if he had plunged a hot dagger into my chest.  Had it not been
just moments before that he had professed his desire to have our bond
remain intact?  How could he have made such an offer when the person
he sought out to bare all to was this man who had been his lover?
Because of this revelation, I deduced that my betrayal to Jim was not
the only disloyalty that had occurred.  I came to believe that he,
too, had betrayed me.

And, there still remained an issue with the doctor, himself.  I had
yet to come to terms with the animosity that arose in me because of
the times he had taken Jim to his bed.  It was a resentment that had
been building between us during these years together, since the time
he had become Jim's lover, and had been fully realized once the bond
was initiated.  His presence was not welcome.  But even after my
repeated requests for him to leave, he remained steadfast in his
determination to stay. 

Although I maintained as much control as was left to me at that time,
my decorum was little more than a thin veil over the acrimony that I
had developed toward him.  I did not understand his insistence since
he was quite aware that, in my recent state of mind, my judgment was
unsound and my strength was more than sufficient if he pushed me to
violence.  However, even this knowledge did not cause him to waver in
his persistence.  It was his unwillingness to submit that reminded me
of the numerous time I had watched this man face down both enemies and
allies to protect his strong principle of justice.  I began to
appreciate the fact that behind McCoy's obstinance, there lay a wide
band of courage.  I found it interesting that I had never before
realized this.

His manner softened and the argumentativeness that I had frequently
witnessed was replaced by sincerity.  It was this change in his
demeanor that caused my rancor to weaken.  As my resentment faded, I
could not deny that the admiration, which I had successfully shrouded
from him over our years of serving together, remained.

As the rage within me cooled, I began to consider that perhaps there
were actually three victims of this situation.  This was a man of
great compassion, and when those he cared about were hurting, his
natural tendency toward empathy was most profound.  And, perhaps he,
too, felt betrayed.  It was conceivable that he felt I was the
interloper in the relationship he had formed with Jim.

I watched the man who I had felt such anger towards in the last days.
He looked tired, and his distress for all concerned was most evident.
It was that show of concern that made me realize he was not here to
confront an enemy.  He was, just as he said, here as a friend.  It
seemed that in the hours since hearing what had transpired, he had
been most thorough in researching alternatives, even to the point of
finding references to a Kolinahru.  He had discovered that these
individuals, who serve as teachers, physicians and guides to those in
need, were considered mind healers and could possibility sever the
bond.

The extent of his research had been most thorough and he was correct.
It would take someone with the powers of a mind healer to reverse the
bond.  Although there had been a possibility that I could have
reversed the link shortly after initiating it, the time for that had
past.  McCoy did not seem aware of that fact, and I did not advise him
of that aspect.

However, on that day, I did speak with him about those things I had
never dared to speak about to anyone before, even to he who was my
bondmate.  I trusted him with confidences that had never been shared
with another being.  I revealed surreptitious information that was
only known among my people, and then never spoken of.

He attempted comfort, but there was little comfort that could be
given.  What was done was done.  It must be accepted.  Leaving my
cabin, he turned to me.  "You love him, don't you," he stated.

The time for falsehoods was over.  Only honesty would suffice.  "Yes,"
I replied.  I then warned him that the relationship he had shared with
Jim these years, could no longer be.  With that, he once again assumed
his tenacious air and left.  I was unaware that soon he, too, would
become the betrayer.

The weeks that followed were difficult, but not unmanageable.  All
proceeded as it should toward the conclusion of the mission.

I had contacted my father and advised him that I would be returning to
Vulcan and would require the service of a Kolinahru.  His curiosity
was understandable, as was his disappointment when I confessed my
transgression.  He agreed with my reasoning that this was the logical
recourse.

Jim approached me on several occasions, but I repeatedly declined his
offers of speaking alone during off-duty hours.  I had been successful
in blocking most of what would normally be transmitted through the
bond.  However, with the bond still intact, I knew I could not trust
either of us to be dispassionate regarding the events that must take
place.  I did advise him that all had been arranged for us to travel
to Vulcan.

Jim's growing hostility toward me was understandable.  That, I
accepted.  As we approached the sector where the mission would be
terminated, his increasingly agitated temperament toward the crew was
less comprehensible. 

Some of the crew questioned this alteration in the captain's
personality, but theorized that it was uncertainty as to what lay
ahead that was causing the increased tension onboard.  Most were
assuming that after a short period of refit, the ship would be
reassigned to an additional five years of exploration.  These
conjectures were based on the successes from the soon to be completed
mission.  I preferred to base my expectations on fact rather than
supposition.  However, even if these unfounded deductions proved
correct, I knew I would no longer be a member of the crew.

I had made the decision not renew my duty assignment, not to this
ship, not on any vessel he commanded, even if it meant resigning my
commission.  Once we had completed our task on Vulcan, it was my
resolve to seek solace in the training of my youth.  To do so, I would
have to recommit to the suppression of all emotion.  I believed this
would prove impossible should I remain under his command.

My time was spent in dedication to duty, assuring all was completed
before the final reports were due, and in extensive meditation.  My
decision made, and a course of action determined, I began to
experience a level of control that I had not realized since the day
Jim had entered my life.  It was to be a short-lived interlude of calm
before the peace that had descended upon me was wrenched away once
again.

It was late evening and all within the science department was in order
for docking.  All but the essentials--my uniforms, items used for
personal grooming, a small fire pot and a kneeling mat--were already
packed and had been forwarded to transport.  All arrangements had been
made, and a Vulcan transport was standing by to take us to Vulcan as
soon as the debriefings were completed.  As I knelt before the firepot
to meditate, a sensation of order surrounded me. 

With the tranquility I was experiencing, I had moved to a higher plane
of the ritual mantra than I normally found attainable.  However, soon
a feeling of agitation began to intercede into my thoughts.  I
realized this restlessness was not my own, but that of my bondmate.  I
called upon all of my controls in an attempt to raise my shields to
the point that I was able to block his thoughts.  It seemed to be
sufficient, although the period of meditation no longer remained
centered on the traditional teachings.  All of my strength began to be
centered on the sole purpose of closing Jim off to me.

I believed that if I let down my defenses, he would become aware of
the powerful emotions that I still held toward him, perhaps causing
him to refuse the dissolution that I had arranged.  Also, if the
breaking of the bond were to be successful, then it would be unwise to
allow our thoughts to merge.  To do so would strengthen the already
deeply ingrained link that we shared.

Without moving from my position on the floor, I concentrated on
building the wall between our thoughts higher and higher.  But without
warning, the barricade that I had constructed came crashing down.  In
an instant, all of the ancient drives that dwell within my people took
over.  The bond was being adulterated.  My bondmate and the invader
were locked together, and the perfidy of the act necessitated my
imposing Kalif'tut, death to the one who would betray the bond. 

It was the ancient drives that propelled me to my bondmate's cabin.
The door allowed me entrance and my eyes fell upon them.  Even though
the lights were set low, I saw them through the lucent screen.  But
even more so, I felt them.  My body sensed each caress and stroke
being administered to my bondmate, as well as the physical pleasure
Jim was experiencing from the act of infidelity.  They were lost in
the passions of the moment and were unaware of my presence as I
approached them.  I watched as McCoy repeatedly thrust his length
inside of my beloved.  A fiery inferno of torment exploded within me
as I watched the invader take that which should belong to only me.

The one time that I had taken Jim in such a manner, he had fought
against me.  But he was allowing this interloper to mount him,
willingly opening himself up to the invasion.  I knew the trespasser
must die.

I wrapped my arms around the other and ripped him from my bondmate,
throwing him against the wall with all of my strength.  He crumpled to
the floor and I was on him immediately.  As with the Romulan guard
weeks before, my hands were immediately at his throat.

A brief moment of hesitation occurred when the face of the man within
my grip came into focus.  Something inside told me this was not the
face of an enemy.  That this was someone who should be spared.  But
the drives burning hot within me incinerated such thoughts of mercy.

Only the sound of that voice, Jim's voice, my captain, the command I
had to obey, stopped me.  I released the throat in my grasp and turned
to find him standing behind me.  He belonged to me, and I would take
that which was mine to possess.

I grabbed Jim and threw him to the bunk, following him down with my
own body.  Once more, he fought against me, but there would be no
compassion shown toward him.  I held him tight to the bed and, even
though the adrenaline surging through him made him strong, he was no
match for that which was driving me.  I struggled to free myself from
the confines of the fabric that lay between us.

Hands came to my shoulders and tried to pull me away, but with one
swift swing, I knocked the invader away.  Never again would I allow
McCoy to take that which belonged only to me.  Once and for all, I
would sever the need for him from my bondmate.  I would dive into
Jim's mind, find the origin of our bond, and rip the desire for any
other from him.  In an act of defiance, the bond had been defiled.  I
intended to take him as I pleased.  His wishes were no longer a
concern.

I succeeded in pushing the restraining material of my trousers down
and, in one swift movement, claimed Jim, all of him; his body and his
mind were mine to possess.  I used neither care nor caution as I
thrust into him, at the same time cutting a swath through his mind to
reach that part of him that I sought.  Hands clawed at my back,
shoulders and waist, but I ignored them.

Stop recording

---
Chapter 7


Record.

My recording was interrupted by a relay that the Enterprise is in
trouble. The message allowed me the interruption needed to quell the
shaking that had begun within me and to regain my composure.

I have spent these last two hours monitoring the communications
between the endangered ship and Starfleet.  I have formulated a fuel
ratio that may alleviate the complications of the stranded vessel.
However, due to magnetic disruptions emanating from the cloud, I have
been unable to establish a link to the ship to inform them of my
findings.  At the current time, the Enterprise is unable to make warp
speed and is in the direct path between the entity and Earth.  If they
are unable to break away, then all onboard are doomed.  I am still
more than an hour from intercept range and, with the ship's warp
engines unable to be engaged, the Enterprise may be destroyed before I
can reach it.   

In as much as I found it disquieting that I would see him again, my
only goal at this moment is to get to him in time.  Even after all
that has transpired between us, I am still driven to safeguard him at
any cost.  Although, logically, I am aware that defense against such a
powerful force may not be possible, it is my choice to present myself
to him and do all within my abilities to protect him, or to die with
him, whichever the case may be.

Again, I wonder if he will accept my assistance.  But I remember that
I am speaking of James Kirk, who, above all else, is a man of honor.
To protect his ship and his crew, he would accept help from "the devil
himself," as McCoy was so fond of saying.  I must presume that to both
Jim and Leonard, I would be considered the equal of any such evil
entity.

I have periodically speculated as to whether the two of them were able
to build a life together after the bond was severed.  Although I am
certain that there were obstacles to overcome, in all likelihood they
were able to restore that which I attempted to destroy and, in doing
so, found a measure of contentment together.

However, the obstacles were not so great as they would have been if
McCoy had not interceded on that evening.  It was his astute reaction
that kept me from accomplishing all that I intended.  Fortunately, I
was not given the time to complete my plan before the doctor injected
me with a powerful sedative.  Had I been given the opportunity to
continue, there is little doubt that permanent, irreversible damage
would have occurred in Jim's mind.

Upon waking hours later, I discovered that Jim and I were alone in his
cabin.  Realization of the events slowly seeped in as I felt the
powerful drug being metabolized by my system.  Once I was able to
fully open my eyes, I glanced around at my surroundings.  Even if my
memory had not recalled all that had taken place, the evidence of the
broken partition and the general disarray in the cabin would have
certainly convinced me of the seriousness of the situation.

I felt restrained and realized that Jim was lying next to me, his arms
clutched tightly around the blanket in which I seemed to be encased.
I attempted to free myself, but his arms remained firmly in place.
"No, Spock," he said.  "Don't go.  We have to talk."

I could not bring myself to look at him, much less rationally discuss
the events of the previous hours.  There was nothing left to say
between us.  There had to be an end to this.  I knew what I must do.
I freed myself from the confines of the bedcover and replied to his
request, "Captain, there is nothing to discuss."  Against his
protests, I left his cabin and returned to my own to carry out my
plan.

Contacting my government, I was advised that due to our position, a
Vulcan ship would be available to retrieve me in nine point one
standard hours.  During the time I was waiting, I composed and
forwarded my resignation to Starfleet, recorded a voice chip directed
to Jim, and retrieved from transport only those items that I would be
allowed once I reached Vulcan.  The rest of the day was spent in
meditation.

At the hour of the scheduled rendezvous, I proceeded to the
transporter room and signaled my readiness.  Within moments, I was
deposited upon the Vulcan transport.  There waiting for me was a
Kolinahru.  I was placed into a chasmatic trance and before we had
reached my home planet, the bond had ceased to exist.  

Upon arriving on Vulcan, I presented myself to the authorities of the
Vulcan Council to accept whatever retribution they deemed sufficient
for the atrocities that I had committed.  Within hours, their
proclamation was announced.

Due to the fact that this was a human to whom I had bonded myself to,
not a wise decision but certainly not a punishable one, it was decided
that there existed extenuating circumstances to nullify the charge of
Re'letli.  It was decided that it would only be a logical conclusion
that I had been affected by the emotions of the human, leading me to
acts that would normally not be considered.

I attempted to protest their findings, but was silenced.  I came to
understand that there still existed among my people a general lack of
approbation toward the human race.  Although I, too, am half human, it
is the fact that my Vulcan heritage, descended from the most ancient
of lineages, afforded me the considerations I received.

Their final decision was that, at most, I was guilty of poor judgment
in allowing the human to touch that within me that should always
remain under control.  All else, they declared, was defendable as
legitimate actions taken when the sanctity of the bond was imperiled.
I would be given a diplomatic censure that would remain with me
through one Vulcan season.  It was a penalty used generally as a
training tool among those who have allowed their logic to be
temporarily compromised.  Beyond that, there would be no reprisal for
my actions.

It was an inadequate judgment and an insufficient punishment.
However, since I had already decided on a life dedicated to logic, one
spent at Gol, even the act of censorship had little meaning.

However, I may yet be punished for my actions.  If Jim and McCoy so
choose, I could be charged with rape, two counts of assault on a
superior officer, one count of assault on a fellow officer, one count
of deception while on duty, dereliction of duty and a host of lesser
charges.  That is, if we should survive the next hours, which seems
most unlikely.

The shuttle is slowing to sub-light speed.   Permission has been
requested and granted for my rendezvous.  I watch as the speck of
light outside the portal becomes the more distinctive shape of the
ship I remember.

As I close this record, I understand what caused my past failures, and
how to avoid future ones.  Emotion is a most demanding master.
Becoming its servant replaces reason and order with havoc and
irrational behavior.  Surrender to sentiment is a weakness within me
that must be excised.  With this task of self-reflection complete, I
shall pull my mantle of logic around me and forever more encase myself
in it.  Not as one dons a cloak, but as one who is sealed within hard
armor in readiness for battle. 

I stand ready at the airlock.  The shuttle's pod has transitioned and
is currently maneuvering into docking position to join with the
Enterprise.  I have programmed the return path into the computer.  I
shall have no means of escape once I step onto the ship.

I am ninety-two seconds away from facing those who know of my most
shameful failure.  In just moments, I will see him once more.  I shall
never again be able to let these emotions for him, or for anyone,
escape from the dark recesses of my soul.  I must accept this.

Stop recording and seal record.

---

The End