The BLTS Archive- Punishment
by Isla (islaofhope@aol.com)
and
T'Aaneli (t_aaneli@excite.com)

---

Warning:  We have strayed from traditional canon.   And if you're
looking for 'champagne', look elsewhere.

Disclaimer:  Star Trek and its characters all belong to Paramount,
Viacom, and Rick Berman.  We're just borrowing the characters for a
little while.  Anything that doesn't belong to Paramount belongs to
us.

Okay to archive, but please contact us before archiving anywhere
except ASCEM.

Please send feedback. All feedback - even negative - is welcome.

Many thanks to Jat Sapphire for her beta.

---

I beamed aboard shortly after the Starfleet briefing where it was
announced that the Enterprise would rendezvous with the Klingon
Chancellor's ship to provide an escort to the peace conference.  I
discovered that he had moved my belongings from our shared quarters
into quarters reserved for visiting dignitaries.

Before I was due to report for duty, I meditated on the events that
had resulted in our estrangement.

I had assumed that his anger at me was the result of being compelled
to participate in the process leading to peace with the Klingon
Empire.  However, I remembered that this was hardly the first time
that he has been compelled to 'make peace' against his own
inclination.  I remembered his last words to me: "You should have
trusted me."  I realized that the anger he held for me was the result
of the fact that I had not given him the trust that was his due.

My own annoyance with him was due to disappointment - perhaps even
embarrassment - when he had protested against the assignment,
revealing his prejudice against Klingons at the briefing.  Also, he
had responded callously to my reminder that the Klingon race was in
danger of extinction.  "Let them die," he had said.

I remembered Sarek's words: "He has accepted the assignment.  What
more do you wish?"  I felt the hum of the warp engines powering up,
ready to carry us to the Klingon Neutral Zone.  He was doing that
which I wished him to do.

I thought of all that he had forgiven me over the years, and all that
I had forgiven him.  I trusted that we would forgive each other once
more.

I put on my uniform coat before I walked out of my temporary quarters.
I controlled my reaction when I found that he was already in the
turbolift that I entered for my trip to the bridge.  He did not turn
to look at me, but I knew that he sensed my presence when his back
straightened almost imperceptibly.  The other occupants of the lift
were talking so animatedly that they did not appear to notice the
silence between the captain and the first officer.

---

"... and I have to say--I was disappointed.  The quality of today's
cadets just isn't what it used to be."  As the turbolift doors opened
onto the bridge, Uhura's words brought a grin to my face.  When I'd
agreed to her request for a leave of absence to teach at Starfleet, I
hadn't realized how much I would miss her commentary on the bridge.

"Welcome back, Uhura."

She turned toward me and rewarded me with her smile. "Thank you,
Captain.  It's good to be home."

No words were required as my senior bridge personnel smoothly replaced
the earlier shift.  I moved towards my chair, scanning the bridge with
practiced ease, noting nothing amiss.

"Control.  This is Enterprise.  Requesting permission to depart."

"Permission to depart granted.  Thirty seconds for port gates."  The
disembodied voice acted like a catalyst, speeding up the activity on
the bridge.  Satisfied, I sat down.  Home again.

"Aft thrusters."  Listening to Lieutenant Valeris, I couldn't help
smiling.  Her precise tone brought back memories of a certain young
Vulcan who now sat three paces behind my right shoulder.  "Thank you,
Lieutenant.  One quarter impulse power."

Immediately, I sensed her hesitation.  She turned toward me.
"Captain, may I remind you that regulations specify thrusters only
while in Space Dock."

The silence which descended over the bridge was broken only by the
intermittent beep of the electronic equipment. Faintly, I heard
Spock's cough and McCoy's "Jim."

As I looked down at Valeris, I smiled again.  I remembered a time long
ago when I had been just as 'by the book' as she was.  But, if she
planned to advance in the field, she had a few things to learn which
Starfleet Academy didn't teach in the standard curriculum.

"You heard the order, Lieutenant."

Valeris' eyebrow arched upwards.  It appeared as though she was
reconsidering the propriety of her words.  She turned back to the helm
with two quiet words,  "Aye, sir."

I turned my head to look at Spock.  For a moment, as we exchanged a
look, I felt him next to me.  It was as if the past couple of months
had disappeared.  We were back on the Enterprise.  Together.

---

I took my station, wondering if his anger had cooled.

I knew that it was so when he ordered Lieutenant Valeris to perform a
dangerous maneuver when exiting the space dock.  His eyes swung to
meet mine.  The glint of amusement told me that he was gently
punishing me for a long-ago occasion when I allowed an inexperienced
Lieutenant Saavik to pilot the Enterprise out of space dock.

I saw him start to stand up, and I felt sure that he would come to my
station for a private word.  Unfortunately, Mr.Scott chose that moment
to call the bridge to request my assistance with a perceived
inefficiency in the warp engine.

---

Hours later, I returned to my solitary quarters, stripped off my
uniform, and donned a meditation robe.  When the door chimed, I knew
that it was not he.  His attention was distracted by a number of
administrative details that had not been settled before our too hasty
launch.  "Come."

"Hey, Spock, thought I'd see how you were settlin' in."

"'Settlin' in,' Doctor?"

"How 'bout a drink?  I know it's a little early, but..." Leonard McCoy
stood in the doorway holding up a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

Although I had little personal experience, the ritual of Dr. McCoy
offering a drink accompanied by a lecture was a familiar part of Jim's
experience.  "I will certainly have no difficulty in metabolizing one
drink, Doctor."

As he walked in, McCoy glanced around the room and whistled softly.
"Federation Special Envoy, huh?  Nice digs.  The ol' Enterprise did
you proud."

I lifted an eyebrow, and decided to 'play along' with the doctor.
"Yes, her captain is most generous.  It is kind of him to honor me in
this way."

As I had expected, his jaw dropped.  "You're not even upset that Jim-"

I gripped my hands behind my back.  "Why are you here, Leonard?"

McCoy turned to study me with a faint smile.  "Because 25 years ago
you asked me to give you a lift to the Vulcan Spaceport."

"I do not understand."

McCoy walked past me to place the glasses on the dresser.  He opened
the bottle and poured a generous amount of scotch into both glasses.
"It's an old Terran tradition that the witnesses have a responsibility
to look out for the marriage.  I guess I figured you knew that; and
that's why you wanted me to be a witness.  Well, I signed your
marriage certificate, so now it's up to me to do what I can to 'look
out' for that marriage."

"Understood."  I accepted a glass and, somewhat cautiously, raised it
to my mouth.  The scotch burned in my throat and chest.

"Spock, I - "  McCoy interrupted himself to take a swallow of scotch.

"I believe that the appropriate response from me is 'thank you for
your concern.'"  I took another sip; the scotch was not of the quality
that Jim preferred, but the warmth was curiously welcome.  "He is a
stubborn, passionate man. Do you imagine that this is the first time
that he and I have disagreed?  I have been metaphorically asked to
'sleep on the couch' more than once in our many years together."

A grin slowly spread across McCoy's face.  "Yeah, I guess I should
know that."  He looked down into his glass, the smile slowly fading
from his face.  "Your timing's lousy.  Do you realize how he's been
feeling lately - what with retiring from Starfleet and all?  He's
convinced that you're all set to use this mission as a stepping stone
to your new career in diplomacy.  He's got this crazy idea that you're
just using him and after the mission is over - "

"He told you this?"  I found myself gripping my glass so tightly that
I feared that it would shatter in my hand.

McCoy ran a finger along the rim of his glass.  "After all these
years, you and Jim aren't the only ones that can read each other's
minds."

"Apparently, Doctor, at this time, you are far more skilled than we
are."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that you didn't know that it would strike him
that way.  So why'd you do it, Spock?"

I willed myself to loosen my grip so that I would not damage McCoy's
prized Rigelian crystal.  "I am aware that you are a collector of
obscure colloquialisms.  Are you familiar with the Vulcan saying,
'Only Nixon could go to China'?"  I breathed out the tension that I
had not known was harbored in my body.  "Chancellor Gorkon requested
him."

McCoy sucked in a breath of air, and then his smile returned.  "Who
woulda thunk it?  I remember once saying to Jim that he'd been a
soldier too long and he needed to start acting like a diplomat."  He
swirled the dregs of the scotch in his glass.  "We've watched him grow
up a lot over the years, haven't we?"

I found that I had to silently look down into my own glass for a time.
"Leonard, he was already a grown man in Terran years when he took
command of the Enterprise."

"Yeah, right.  Sometimes I think he was just a kid playing at being a
starship captain.  But he took a lot of losses in that first five-year
mission."  He lifted the glass to his mouth to drain the last drops.
"Good thing he walked away with something that has sustained him
throughout the rest of his life."  McCoy's voice had lost all hint of
the Southern Country Doctor that he often tried to portray himself as.

"Doctor, I - "  Then it was my turn to interrupt myself by sipping the
scotch.

"You're really proud of him, aren't you, Spock?"

"I am."

"You should be.  And I hope you don't mind that I'm pretty proud of
him myself.  I'd like to think that I've contributed something to who
he is."

"You have indeed."

McCoy picked up the scotch bottle and tilted it towards my glass.
When I shook my head to refuse a second drink, he apparently decided
against a second drink for himself as well.  "So what are you planning
for him after this?"

"Your implication is that I am manipulating him in some way."

"Manipulation is such an ugly word.  I was thinking 'king- making' or
something like that."

"An odd expression; there is, of course, no monarchy in the
Federation."

He accepted my empty glass.  "But you do have plans? You are ambitious
for him."

"Ambitious?  My only hope is that he is remembered as a man of peace
as well as a great warrior."

"Bless you, Spock."  McCoy's hand rested lightly on my arm, before he
turned to walk out of my quarters, his bottle dangling carelessly
between two fingers of his right hand, the glasses clutched in his
left.

I took a few restless steps, but a Vulcan does not pace. Could it be
true that Jim believed that I would use him and abandon him for a new
career?  How could he after all that we have shared?  However, I had
been distant so long that it was difficult for both of us to
understand what the other was thinking.  I closed my eyes and reached
for his mind.  //T'hy'la, my own.  I would speak with thee.//

---

"And Captain, it's remarkable how the Lieutenant's nano patches have
increased the efficiency of the engines. Why, I can just hear her
purring away, content as can be. Lieutenant Quinn's a smart lad, that
he is."

Scotty was beaming, his broad smile and his rolling r's evidence of
his pleasure and satisfaction.  Seated behind his desk, he had the
look of a contented Chief Engineer-- just the look I wanted before the
start of a mission.

Rising from my own seat, I said, "Thank you for the update on the
modifications.  And--Scotty--I'm glad to hear that you've found
yourself some good help."

"Aye, Captain.  We'll be ready if anything goes wrong with the
Klingons."  The nod of his head, the confidence in his voice, warmed
my heart.  How many times had I counted on Scotty to pull us out of
the impossible?

"Thank you, Scotty."

I walked out of Engineering, and stopped for a moment as the doors
slid shut behind me.  How often had I walked her corridors, dropping
into various departments, feeling her pulse? This first tour of the
ship -- after we left for a mission--this was my homecoming.  It was
my opportunity to reassure myself that she was ready.  And that I was
ready.

I suddenly stopped, my hand reaching for the bulkhead. // T'hy'la.  My
own.  I would speak with thee.//  Spock's mind voice, soft and
distant, was gently rapping at my shields.

//Spock?//  Why was he calling for me?  And why was he calling me 'my
own'?  For a moment, I dared to allow a flicker of hope to burn.
Could I have been wrong about Spock?  I wanted to talk to him.  We
needed to talk.

//I must speak with thee.  There is ... much ... we must discuss.//

The flicker of hope ignited into a steady flame.  //Soon. Spock.  I'll
be there soon.  I just have to finish my tour.// Maybe this had been
no more than a terrible misunderstanding.  Maybe I had reacted too
impulsively. It wouldn't have been the first time since we had known
each other.

I heard Spock's response.  //I await thee.//

I continued my private tour but my steps were a little bit faster.

Twenty minutes later, I approached Spock's temporary quarters.  I
began humming a tune.  The door to his quarters was suddenly in front
of me.  My heart started beating faster.  Come on, James T.  Relax.
Maybe you're reading too much into a simple invitation to talk.  I
took a deep breath and palmed the door panel.

---

Because we would require refreshment for our talk, I busied myself
with preparing tea.  I had not monitored my anxiety level, so I was
unprepared when I stopped breathing momentarily when the door chimed.
He had not 'asked' for permission to enter my room since we were first
lovers.  "Come."

My breathing returned to a more normal level when the door slid open
to reveal Lieutenant Valeris.

"Am I intruding, sir?"

In truth, I was far too anxious about my upcoming interview with Jim
to be congenial company.  However, I sensed that she was troubled, and
this young woman, whom I had sponsored at the Academy, deserved my
attention and the comfort that could be found in a shared cup of tea.

Admittedly, I gave her only a fraction of my attention.  We spoke of
her career.  She asked about the representation of 'Expulsion from
Paradise' which he had hung on my wall.  I considered offering her the
painting; I would not require it when I departed the Enterprise to
begin the next phase of my life with my beloved.

Valeris continued to look at me with agitation clear in her eyes.  I
drank from the cup and offered it to her.  Instinct overcame Vulcan
propriety when I put out a comforting hand to touch her brow.  I felt
a shock of surprise when I saw desire darkening her eyes.

How could this be?  I had acted towards her always as a mentor.
Perhaps it had been a mistake not to treat her as an adopted daughter
as I had Saavikam.  Valeris had never been to our home or met Jim
before she was posted to the Enterprise, but surely she knew that I
was Jim's and he was mine.

As she put up her hand to touch my face, the door slid open, and I was
looking into his eyes.  His initial smile was replaced by a look of
shock.

---

When the door slid open, I stepped through, smiling, my eyes searching
for Spock.  I stopped.  My smile died. Valeris?  My eyes moved from
one to the other.  What the hell was going on?  Her eyes were focused
on Spock, ignoring me.  Spock's hand was on her face; his fingers
caressing her cheek in an utterly intimate gesture.  Her fingers
rested equally intimately across Spock's cheek.

He turned his head slightly and looked at me; his eyes dark, his face
... surprised.  This is what he had to tell me?  Valeris and him?  I
didn't realize I had said the words out loud until I heard them, harsh
and low, hanging in the silence of the room as an accusation.

I had to get out.  Now.  Before I did something I would regret.  I
turned and left, pulling on my neck collar which had suddenly grown
very tight.

---

Before I unfroze myself to speak, the door closed and he was gone.

"Lieutenant, you must excuse me."

Her hand slid down to grip my shoulder with Vulcan strength, but there
was only one whose hand I wished on my shoulder.  I attempted to be
gentle as I removed her hand.  "You must excuse me."

She appeared to understand me the second time that I said it.  "Yes,
sir."  She replaced her mask of control. Further conversation was
rendered impossible by an announcement that we were required on the
bridge for the rendezvous with the Klingon vessel.

My hands were clumsy as I undid the clasps on my robe. I pulled on my
uniform.

//T'hy'la?  Jim?//

But there was no answering warmth; only cold silence through our bond.

---

I headed down the corridor, the thud of my footsteps echoing the
throbbing in my head.  A door swooshed open a few steps in front of
me.  I almost collided with McCoy.

He put his hand out to touch my arm.  "Hey, Jim. Got a minute?
There's something I -- "

I shrugged his hand off.  "Bones, not now."  My voice was rough, even
to my own ears.  I continued past him, his puzzled look barely
registering in my peripheral vision.

"Jim. Are you ok?"

I whirled around.  "Bones.  Let it go!"  I turned around and continued
down the corridor.

The look on his face told me he wasn't convinced, but my rapidly
disappearing back didn't leave him with many options.

He called out after me.  "Okay.  Later."  The tone in his voice almost
made me turn back, but I didn't trust myself. I wanted to get away
from everybody.  I needed to compose myself.

My escape was interrupted by an announcement from the bridge.  The
Klingon ship had just come within hailing distance of the Enterprise.
I hesitated for a brief moment, then my stride changed direction.  I
moved towards the nearest turbolift.  Now was not the time to let my
relationship with Spock affect my duty to this ship and her crew.

---

When I reached the turbolift, Valeris appeared at my side. We did not
speak, but she was beside me when we walked onto the bridge.  At the
same moment, he entered through the opposite door.  His face held no
hint of emotion.

--

The moment the doors slid open, I felt his presence on the opposite
side of the bridge.  I dropped my mask into place.

As I walked across the bridge, my eyes were drawn to the viewscreen
and to the embodiment of what had brought us here.  A Klingon Bird of
Prey--carrying the Klingons' hopes for peace.

"The Chancellor is undoubtedly awaiting our signal."  I finally looked
at Spock.  His face was stony--not a hint of what had just transpired
marred his façade.

"You are undoubtedly correct, Captain Spock.  Let's get on with it.
Uhura, hailing frequencies."  I strode to the helmsman's station.
"Right standard rudder.  Bring us alongside."  I suspected that the
sight of the Enterprise had caught the attention of a few Klingons as
well.  Why not give them a real show?  We moved into position.

I straightened my shoulders.  One olive branch coming right up.  "This
is the Starship Enterprise.  Captain James T. Kirk commanding."

The screen flickered.  "This is Kronus I.  I am Chancellor Gorkon."

As we exchanged pleasantries, I sensed the release of tension in my
crew.  I didn't think they'd be entirely pleased with my next
suggestion.  But, if the Federation wanted peace--well--one had to
start somewhere. "Would you and your party care to dine this evening
aboard the Enterprise, with my officers, as guests of the United
Federation of Planets?"  I almost smiled at Chekov's quick intake of
breath.

"We would be delighted to accept your gracious invitation."

My eyes dropped to the floor; it was too late to change my mind now.
"We'll make arrangements to have you beamed aboard at 1930 hours."

I turned to leave the bridge, walking past Spock's station. "I hope
you're happy."  The words were pitched low, intended only for his
ears.

--

He did not look at me or speak to me until he had finished his
communication with Chancellor Gorkon.  When he walked by my station to
exit the bridge, he favored me with a brief glance and said, "I hope
you're happy."

Initially, I assumed that he referred to his extension of diplomatic
courtesies to the Klingon chancellor, but then I remembered the scene
in my quarters.  Did he believe that I was interested in dissolving
our bond to enter into an alliance with Lieutenant Valeris?  No, I did
not believe that was possible.

He thanked Valeris for her recommendation for the state dinner before
he left the bridge.

---

Within moments I had reached the entrance to a private observation
lounge.  I entered, sealing the privacy lock behind me.  Hearing the
seal engage, I hit my fist against the bulkhead.  The pain was a
welcome relief.  For a moment. Then, I remembered the look on Spock's
face, his fingers on Valeris' cheek.  Why?  Couldn't he have had the
common courtesy to restrain from flaunting his new relationship until
after the mission had ended?

I rested my head against the viewscreen, its coolness offering me
solace.  But the solace I wanted--my Spock-- was one I could no longer
have.  Why was the death of love so painful?

---

Chancellor Gorkon raised his glass in a toast.  "The Undiscovered
Country.  The future."

"Hamlet Act three.  Scene one."  It came out automatically, but, of
course, I knew that the 'undiscovered country' referred to in
Shakespeare 's work was death rather than the future.  However, it
would not do to correct the chancellor.  I have learned something of
diplomacy.  My ready agreement with Chancellor Gorkon's error earned
me a puzzled stare from Jim.

The state dinner with the Klingon deputation was a disaster.  The
drink appeared to rob Jim of any semblance of his natural charm.
True, General Chang was uncommonly determined to provoke.

I will never know what he intended to respond when Chang asked how he
would feel about the cessation of war with the Klingon Empire and the
dismantling of Starfleet.  Perhaps I should have trusted him.

In his early years as a starship captain, although he was called upon
to be a soldier time and again, he had always expressed the belief
that he was primarily an explorer. Therefore, I answered Chang's
question for him. "Captain Kirk has always believed that Starfleet's
mission is largely peaceful."

His too-calm challenge cut through the sudden silence in the room.
"Far be it from me to contradict my first officer - "

Chang interrupted with a comment on the natural superiority of the
Klingon race, and Jim made an appalling remark comparing the Klingon
race to Nazi Germany.

Chancellor Gorkon looked from my no-doubt pale face to the flushed,
angry face of my bondmate.  "Clearly, we have a long way to go."  What
must he think of a peace negotiator who could not keep peace with his
own spouse?

---

I took another sip of Romulan ale, then replaced the glass carefully
on the linen cloth.  The icy liquid seemed to help cool my smoldering
anger.  It also seemed to muffle the stilted small talk occurring at
the table--which wasn't such a bad thing in itself.

When Chang had asked me 'Would you be willing to give up Starfleet?'
my answer had been ready--an appropriate, diplomatically correct
answer phrased from thirty years of experience as a starship captain.

And then, Spock had answered on my behalf.  What the hell was he
doing?  Didn't he trust me at all?  What next? Was he going to start
programming the replicator in my quarters to ensure that I only ate
leafy greens?

What should I have done?  I knew I should have agreed with him and
left it that.  I did owe Spock an apology for that one.  And then we
could have disputed his arrogance in answering on my behalf yet again.
But it should have been done in a more private setting.

As for the Nazi statement, where had that come from?  I grimaced and
raised the glass for another sip.  Why not make it a gulp?  How much
worse could this evening get?

---

"Please let me know if there's another way we can screw up tonight."

I looked at my bondmate, and I could not trust myself to speak.  I
wanted to clamp my hand on his arm, drag him out of the transporter
room to our shared quarters, and explain to him precisely why his
behavior was unacceptable.   However, I did not trust myself to touch
him tonight without hurting him.  He has always inspired the strongest
emotions in me.  I have occasionally felt resentment, but I cannot
recall ever feeling the cold fury that I felt at that moment.  I left
the transporter room as quickly as possible to avoid further contact
between us.

---

"Please let me know if there's any other way we can screw up tonight."

I walked past Spock, tempted to ask Bones if I could drop by his
quarters for that chat I'd put off earlier today.  I could use some
reassurance that the entire world wasn't falling apart around me.

I rubbed my hand across the bridge of my nose.  The headache, which
had been a mere suggestion earlier tonight, had settled in with
ferocity.  I'm sure the Romulan ale hadn't helped.  It wasn't going to
be a pleasant night; as if it would have been in any event.  As I
walked away from Spock, for a moment I yearned for earlier days, for a
time when Spock would have been walking by my side; for a time we
would have gone back to our quarters and he would have massaged the
headache away.

No.  It wasn't a good idea to talk to Bones yet.  Later.

---

I didn't realize how tired I was until I stepped onto the bridge in
response to Spock's request that I join him.  But at the mention of
neutron radiation, my instincts started tingling.  Emanating from the
Enterprise?

I turned to look at the readings displayed at Spock's station.  The
first streak of red suddenly brought the bridge to life.  My headache
disappeared.

"What's happened?"

I listened in disbelief to Spock's answer.  We had fired on the
Klingon Bird of Prey?

Stunned, I watched as a second torpedo streaked away from the
Enterprise and scored a direct hit on the Kronus I.  In seconds,
information was being funneled to the bridge as we attempted to
comprehend the incomprehensible.  Scotty insisted we hadn't fired.
Uhura reported shots aboard the Klingon vessel.

"We haven't fired."  I knew my voice sounded incredulous, but damn it,
we hadn't.

"Captain, according to our databanks we have--twice."  I turned to
stare at Spock.

We needed time.  Precious time.  And the Klingons were not about to
give it to us. Think, James T. Think fast.

They were coming about, I heard the request for shields up.  I shook
my head.  No.  No.

"We surrender."   There was dead silence on the bridge.

I looked over at Spock.  I knew he would understand. We would not be
the instigators of full scale war on the eve of universal peace.
There was an explanation.  And we would find it.

---

When he came to the bridge in answer to my summons, his manner towards
me was almost casual.  I wondered whether he had felt my earlier
anger.  I wondered if he was too tired or too intent on his duty to
care what I felt for him.

I stood at his shoulder - where I had stood a thousand times before -
when he ordered the surrender of the Enterprise to the Klingon vessel.
When he said that he was beaming over, I tried to dissuade him.  "I am
responsible for getting you into this.  I will go."

"No," he said.  "You are responsible for getting me out of this."  He
looked into my eyes, and I realized that he was not angry or
resentful.  Rather, he was excited by the challenge and the danger.  I
remembered then why I loved him.  I wish that there had been an
opportunity to say more, but I could only touch him briefly when I
placed the patch on his shoulder, and then he was gone.

---

"Don't let it end this way."  Gorkon grasped the back of my head with
a fierceness borne of despair.  His fingers loosened their grip and
fell down my neck.  He took a final, raspy breath.

I backed away from the body.

As if in a dream state, I felt the cuffs being locked around my
wrists.

I protested.  "We tried to save him."  But we were hurried out of the
chamber.

---

"They've been arrested."  Commander Uhura's voice broke the dead
silence of the bridge.  I knew without looking up that every eye on
the bridge was fastened on me.

Looking to me for leadership?  I felt momentary agony, but there was
too much to do to give into despair.  I was responsible for 'getting
him out of this.'  I silently renounced any vows that I had ever made
to follow Federation Law or Starfleet Regulations.  I would do
anything that was necessary to retrieve him.

---

I straightened my shoulders, squinting upwards though the hazy smoke,
trying to distinguish the audience of Klingons - thirsty for the blood
of one Captain James T. Kirk - from the darkness of the chamber.

Although I recognized the futility of my efforts, I needed to try to
comprehend this mockery of a trial which was taking place around me.

Allegations of McCoy's incompetence and drunkenness. Me -- the
architect of this tragic affair.  Revenge for the death of my son.

But it was the excerpts from my personal log which sounded
particularly damning as they echoed through the chamber.

"Are those your words?" Chang's accusation was clear.

I couldn't deny them.  "Those words were spoken by me."

There was a flawless logic to their arguments.  I had to admire the
mastermind behind this plot.  I had been perfectly manipulated.  I
knew there was only one statement I could make.

"As captain, I am responsible for the conduct of the crew under my
command."

The chamber echoed with catcalls and whistles and stomping.  I stood,
shoulders squared.  I was a Starfleet Officer.  I would not be bullied
into submission.

Over the next few seconds, the chilling words of our jury and hangman
reverbated through the chamber.  "Rura Penthe.  There to spend the
rest of your natural lives."

There was a cold finality to the words.  But it was a finality I was
damned if I'd let become a reality.  We were getting ourselves out of
this.  How?  I didn't have a hell of a clue. Yet.

I felt a ripple in my mind.  I knew it was Spock, seeking some
reassurance through our bond.  I reached out, feeling my first
officer's thoughts.  //Spock.  It's okay. We'll find a way.//  And I
believed it.  I was confident that our years of teamwork would
guarantee us a way out.

---

After the verdict was read, I heard Mr. Scott's voice, as if in a
dream, "Rura Penthe!  Better to kill them now than a slow death in
that place."

I had turned the command chair away from the viewscreen as though not
watching would let me deny the truth.  I realized then that I had not
really considered what the trial meant.  I had not thought about the
grave danger he was in.

I closed my eyes.  Just for a moment to block out the noise and
confusion of the bridge.  //Oh, Jim.  What have I done?//

Through my haze of pain and confusion, I felt his mind brush against
mine.  //Spock.  It's okay.  We'll find a way.//  I felt that he was
not afraid.  I felt his cool determination.  His mind was the merest
touch, and then he was gone.  However, it was enough to restore my
strength and resolve.

---

"Mr. Spock, I have a call for you."  Commander Uhura came to stand
beside the command chair, her voice pitched for my ears alone.

I did not look at her, and my voice was equally quiet.  "It was my
understanding that subspace communications were malfunctioning."  I
had entered this falsification in the log; it must be true.

"The message is from the Republic."

I turned to look at her, and my throat was dry.  "I will take it in
the captain's quarters."

When I arrived in front of the door, I had a moment of fear that I
would be unable to enter.  However, the door slid open at my touch.
He had not changed the security lock.

The comm unit beeped, I touched a key, and a familiar face appeared.

"Lieutenant, you have placed yourself and your ship in an awkward
position by contacting the Enterprise."

Golden eyes flashed with anger.  "Don't 'Lieutenant' me, Father!  What
the hell is going on?  How could you have let Dad - "

"Calm yourself, Selek.  Think carefully before you say another word,
my son."  It was not the first time in the last several days that I
found myself unable to draw enough oxygen from the ship's atmosphere.
Yes, he definitely reminded me of his non-biological parent.

I saw a mask of control drop over his face.  "I ask forgiveness,
Father."  He steepled his fingers in front of him and looked down at
them.  "I spoke with Grandfather. He explained."

"I see.  I am not surprised that you blame me."

"Sarek blames himself, too."

"Blame is illogical.  It serves no purpose."

He gazed at me.  "Do you expect me to believe that you feel nothing
about what has happened?"

"To what purpose?"

"Liar."  His expression suddenly relaxed into one of gentle teasing,
one that I had seen on Jim's face a thousand times.  He tapped his
joined fingers on his bottom lip, and his expression was solemn again.
"Is he okay?"

I closed my eyes briefly, reaching for Jim; I felt only the merest
whisper of his mind, but it was enough.  "He is not afraid."

A quick grin.  "No, of course not.  Not James T. Kirk." Selek looked
away.  "I love him so much, Father.  And I am so afraid that I will
never see him again.  They showed the trial in the main recreation
hall and everyone was speculating whether or not he was guilty."

I found that I had some difficulty swallowing.  "Surely, no one
believes that he would do such a thing."

Selek nodded.  "I couldn't believe it either, but some of them
applauded the attack.  They don't want peace with the Klingon Empire
any more than whoever authored the attack."

"You know - "

"Of course.  I know that he would never do such a thing. I also
understand why we can't raid the Klingon Home World to retrieve him
and the doctor."  A deep breath, slowly let out.  "What are you going
to do?"

"Everything possible, my son."  I watched my words register and a
smile lit his eyes again.  "Now you must go. The Enterprise is
maintaining subspace silence. Commander Uhura was in violation of
orders when she accepted your transmission."

"Yes, of course.  Father, I love you.  Be careful.  I long to see both
of you."

---

It was cold.  Even bundled up in the extras furs we had managed to
secure from Martia, I was having a hard time falling asleep.

"Psst."

My teeth chattering, I turned on my side towards the sound.

A combination of quiet mumbled words sounding suspiciously like a
swear word or two was all the sound I heard for a moment.  Finally, he
became intelligible. "..and here I am, feeling guilty about the fact
that I didn't force you to sit down and talk to me about Spock back
aboard the ship, and now we're in the middle of this frozen hell hole
and we'll probably never see daylight again, so what am I doing even
trying to act as a marriage counselor and ---"

"Whoa.  Bones.  What are you talking about?"  Spock? Marriage
counseling?  Was McCoy even awake?

Silence.  "Bones?"  I heard the soft rustle of furs rubbing together.
A dark, lumpy shape lifted itself from the adjoining bed and inched
it's way closer.  Upon reaching the edge of the bed, McCoy rearranged
the blankets and furs around his head.  In the dim light, his face
looked gaunt, his eyes a faint shadow of their normal liveliness. Even
his voice lacked its normal bite.  McCoy shouldn't be here.  I should
have been here alone.

"Jim.  It's about you and Spock.  Remember that chat we had in your
quarters before the briefing at Starfleet?"

I did.  All too well.  Our discussion about my fears of growing old.
Where Spock was going.  Where I wasn't going.  And then that
disastrous briefing afterwards.

My voice was rough when I answered.  "Yes.  What about it?"

"Damn it, Jim.  You never make it easy for those who love you, do
you?"

I turned my head abruptly towards McCoy.

"Jim."  His voice was weary.  "Spock and you.  You were wrong.  Bloody
wrong.  And if you'd gotten off that high horse of yours and just sat
down and talked to him like I told you to--well, we might still be
here, but at least I wouldn't go to my grave thinking that I had
failed in my duties."

Confusion.  What duties was he talking about?  "Bones--"

"It's your turn to listen, Jim.  And listen good.  Because unless we
get rescued soon, I may end up dying in here and I will not, repeat,
will not, go to meet my maker with this guilt hanging over me.  Jim--
Spock loves you. Desperately and so completely that it still makes me
believe that maybe there is such a thing as eternal love. That entire
'volunteering' business--Chancellor Gorkon wanted you, Jim, you and
nobody else, to captain the ship which would begin the peace process.
Spock was so goddamned proud of that fact--you should have seen him.
Why, he was glowing with pride."

I was still confused.  "But--"

"No buts.  Spock and I had a talk the day of that disastrous dinner.
He had no idea how you were feeling. He didn't have a clue what you
were accusing him of. Jim--he loves you.  He has never--never--used
you.  He wouldn't know how.  He'll be by your side until the day you
die...as long as you get us out of here, that is."

Had I been a complete fool?  The special envoy business? Valeris?  Had
I just misinterpreted everything?  I lay there, stunned, for several
minutes in silence.

"Bones."

"Yeah."  I heard the hesitation in his voice.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Jim-boy."

---

"Couldn't you have just waited two seconds?  He was about to explain
the whole thing."  I had materialized, sputtering and swearing.   Even
though I was damn glad that he'd beamed us out of there, I was
frustrated that it had been just before the Klingon commandant had
told us the details of the conspiracy.

I watched Spock's eyebrow arch upwards.  The familiar gesture made my
knees weak for a moment.  I had thought I would never see it again.

I stepped off the transporter pad.  "It's cold."  I looked up at
Spock, tilting my head in the direction of the door.  I knew that he
*knew* that I wanted to get out of there. We had things to talk about.

--

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"  When he pulled me aside after
returning from Rura Penthe, I wondered whether he would kiss me or
backhand me.  However, his mind was entirely occupied with the crisis
at hand, and he wished only to tell me of his idea for trapping the
hidden assassins.  I nodded assent.  For a moment, we stood close
together, our eyes on each other; he was close enough that I could
feel his breath on my face.

I was aware that McCoy glanced over at us.  No doubt, Jim was also
aware that we had an audience.  He dropped his hand from my arm, but
before we parted, I touched his mind.  //I cherish thee.  Thee are my
life.//

He smiled into my eyes.  //I know.  But we've got a job to do.//

---

"I have been dead before."  My words were defiance against the
seemingly impossible situation that we faced. I heard his sharp intake
of breath, and saw his quick smile.  As always, his smile was a source
of hope and comfort to me.

However, once we had discovered the location of the peace conference,
I found myself drained of energy, holding myself up at my station by
sheer force of will.

He strode up to the science station, and almost seated himself on the
railing, but sensing my attitude, he moved closer, draping himself
across the console.  "You look like you could use some rest."

I shook my head without meeting his eyes.  "I am in no difficulty,
Captain."

"Liar.  Look, I know that you've been through some pretty rough stuff
in the last few days."  He crossed his arms, and he *willed* me to
look up.  I did, and his voice was pitched for my ears only.  "Did you
eat or sleep the whole time that I was gone?"

I met his eyes but said nothing.

"No?  I didn't think so.  Spock, we've got six hours until we can
reasonably expect to reach Khitomer. If we encounter any trouble
before that, I promise I'll have you called."

Six hours.  It was logical to rest during that period, but I was
reluctant to leave his side.

"Do I have to make it an order?  I don't think I'd have any trouble
getting Bones to temporarily certify you unfit for duty.  I'm going to
need you well-rested later."  He gave me a smile.  "Now scram."

I obediently 'scrammed' after I reminded him that he too, could use
some rest and a clean uniform.

---

Spock's last words, "And you, Captain," had persuaded me that a shower
was in order for the captain as well.

I enjoyed the simple luxury of changing into clean, warm clothes.
Standing in my quarters, looking into the mirror above the sink, I
smiled.  The captain in the mirror smiled back at me.  We had beaten
the odds yet again.  Spock had found us.  And the look on Spock's face
when we had beamed back aboard--I knew it had been reflected on my
own.  I couldn't live without him.  I couldn't.

But we still needed to talk. We would have to make time before
Khitomer.  We each had a lot of forgiving to do. And Valeris.  I knew
Spock was still in pain. That meld--I shuddered to think what it had
cost him.

I headed out of my cabin toward Spock's quarters.

---

Agony.  How could I have not known that Valeris was a traitor?  How
much of it was my responsibility?  I had not known of her desire for
me.  How much of what she had done was an attempt to destroy Jim?

I had felt the horror of my shipmates on the bridge when I had touched
Valeris' mind.  Even Jim had looked momentarily shaken, as though he
could not believe what he was seeing, but then he accepted the
necessity of what I did.

What no one but I knew was that she gave me silent permission.  A
Vulcan's desire is the desire to touch the other's mind.  In spite of
my reason for entering her mind, she welcomed the intrusion.  The
tears they interpreted as pain at being forced were truly tears of
regret that my mind touch was not given in voluntary sharing.

My door slid open, and he walked in.  He opened his mouth to request
illumination, but I stopped him.  "I prefer it dark."

---

His door opened.

"Spock?"  I hesitated for a moment.  Why I was so nervous?

"I prefer it dark." His deep voice warmed me.  I could discern his
figure reclining on his bed, dressed in his white meditation robes.

I stepped inside.  "Dining on ashes?"  I moved toward the bed.

"You were right.  It was arrogant presumption on my part that got us
into this situation.  You might have been killed."

For a moment, I felt reassured.  This was an emotion I could deal
with.  Guilt.  "The day is young.  You said it yourself, it was
logical.  Peace is worth a few personal risks. "  I moved towards his
desk, driven by an inexplicable curiosity to investigate what he had
chosen to unpack.

I lifted the small canister from his desk.  I sniffed at it. The tea
that he had shared with Valeris all those days ago?  I frowned, but I
remembered that it had not meant what I had thought.  I put it down
and turned towards him.

For a moment I was silent, appreciating the sight of the Vulcan before
me--a Vulcan who, for several days, I had thought never to see again.
Where to even start?  How to tell him that he was the very reason for
my being--that without him I would be anchorless?

---

"Dining on ashes?"  I did not understand his reference, but his voice
was a cool touch, and I welcomed it when his mind also touched me
gently. In a space of silence, I dropped the words that tormented me.
"You could have died."

"The day isn't over yet."  He smiled to soften the effect of his
words.

I waited for him to come closer, to touch me, to forgive me.

It is not important what we said to each other.  What is important is
that we shared our pain, and the sharing healed both of us.

"C'mon.  I need you."  It was not possible to interpret his words as
anything beyond an invitation to return to the bridge.

I looked into his eyes, and reached for his mind.  //Duty? It is
always duty with thee.//  We still had not touched.  I put out my
hand, two fingers extended, longing for his embrace.

He touched his fingers to mine, and the heat flared in the bond
between us.  //Just a little bit longer, and I will meet you in the
appointed place.//

I nodded at the ritual words of Vulcan seduction.  //I await thee.//

He leaned in to brush his lips against mine.  Barely a kiss. More a
promise of what we would share later.  After we had prevented disaster
at the peace conference.  I remembered his words of so long ago.
Haven't we done enough?

He stepped away from me.  "We're most likely going into battle."

I understood immediately.  I felt regret.  We had just reopened our
bond after a long period apart.  The thought of re-erecting the
shields between us filled me with pain. But duty did require it.  If
either one of us fell in battle, the ship required the other to be
fully functional.

"I'll see you on the bridge."  He turned to go.

I longed to pull him into my arms, to hold him and never let go, but
he had already become a starship captain again.

"I love you, Jim."

At first I was uncertain that he heard me, but then he turned with a
smile on his face.  For a moment, I believe he considered teasing me
by saying simply, 'I know,' before he walked out of my quarters.  But
then his face turned solemn and he walked into my arms.  "I love you,
too, Spock."  He lifted his face to mine for a swift hard kiss, and we
held onto each other tightly.

"I regret - "

"No, love, don't regret a thing."  His head was on my shoulder, and my
left hand was in his hair. "What we've had has always been perfect."

"Perfect?  No, perfect is not the word that comes to mind."

He laughed softly and leaned back in my arms to look into my eyes.
//My Patroclus.//

"Patroclus?"  After a moment of uncertainty, I remembered Achilles'
lover who had asked him to forget his quarrel with Agamemnon in order
to fight Hector.  An ancient Terran myth.  "Patroclus asked Achilles
to fight.  I asked you to stop the fighting."

//Don't be so literal.//  Soft mindlaugh as he extricated himself from
my arms and departed for the bridge.

For a moment, I could not recall which had died - Achilles or
Patroclus?  Terran romantic tales frequently end in death.  As I
changed my meditation robe for my uniform, I remembered.  Patroclus
dressed himself in Achilles' armor and died in battle.  Only Achilles
could have defeated Hector.  He did so to avenge Patroclus' death.

Perhaps if Patroclus' father had been a diplomat in Agamemnon's court
--  illogical thought.  However, I took comfort in the fact that 'my
Achilles' had acted - albeit with my machinations rather than at my
request - and, therefore, we would both live.

---

I was striding down the hallway to the transporter room where Spock
was waiting with the assembled security team.  As I rounded the
corner, McCoy stepped out from a turbolift.  Silently, he fell into
step with me.  I looked over at my oldest friend and grinned.

"Warmed up yet, Bones?"

He turned his face towards me, a scowl battling with his grin.  "As a
matter of fact, I haven't.  That's the last time I'm volunteering to
beam over to a Klingon ship with you. Got it, Captain?"

I couldn't resist chuckling.  "That, Dr. McCoy, is a promise I would
love to see both of us honor."

As we neared the transporter room, McCoy's steps slowed down.   "Jim,
could I have a minute?"

McCoy's tone was serious.  "What's up, Bones?"

"Call me nosy.  Call me a friend.  But how are you and Spock doing?"

I relaxed.  "I won't call you nosy.  But I will call you a friend.
We're doing fine.  And if not for you--maybe we wouldn't be. Thank
you, Bones."

I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, wanting to convey how
much I appreciated his friendship over the years.  But a touch on the
shoulder didn't feel like enough, especially after what we'd just been
through. I pulled him close and hugged him hard, and as I held him for
that brief time, I realized how frail he was.

"Come on, Bones.  We have history to make."

---

We beamed down outside the council chambers.  As soon as the beam
released us, Jim plunged through the door.

The Federation President was at the podium, and the occupants of the
room shouted with surprise when we burst in.  The first shot was
perhaps a misfire.  Jim turned and pointed up in the direction of the
unseen gunman, and Security Chief Giotto, followed on his heels by two
of his security men, ran up the back stairs.

"Spock."  Jim gestured, and I understood that I was to find the
conspirators.

Cartwright jumped to his feet.  "Arrest those men!"

"Arrest yourself."  I gestured to Valeris who was in the custody of a
security officer.  "We have a full confession."

---

After the beam materialized us outside the Council chambers, I used
gestures and vocal commands to disperse my team.

I paused for a moment and caught Spock's eye to direct him towards
Admiral Cartwright.

I looked towards the podium.  "Mr. President!"  When I yelled out the
warning, the President of the Federation turned towards me, puzzlement
registering on his face. Dammit!  What did he think I was doing?
Yelling out a friendly greeting? I knew he wasn't going to move in
time. I ran towards him.

---

I directed the remainder of the security team to round up the
conspirators that Valeris had identified.  Another shot rang out, and
I looked around the chamber for additional gunmen.  Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw Jim begin his leap to knock the Federation President
down, to protect the older man with his own body.  I knew that Jim
would be very sore tomorrow.

I felt agony explode in my chest, but when I looked down, I saw no
wound.  //Spock!//  And then there was a terrible silence in my mind.

I turned to look at the podium.  The Federation President had a
stunned look on his face.  McCoy knelt beside Jim. When the doctor
looked up to meet my eyes, the emptiness that I saw there reflected
the emptiness in my soul.

---

I did not look around when the door slid open.  I was indifferent as
to who had walked in.  The one person that I cared to see would not be
walking through that door again.

"Spock."  McCoy stopped beside me and placed his hands on the railing
next to mine.

"I would prefer to be alone, Doctor."

"Well, I wouldn't."  He took a deep breath and I glanced over at him.
His eyes were red-rimmed, and he seemed to have aged ten years in this
one afternoon.  "Damn. First the chancellor and now Jim.  I should
have retired long ago."

I felt my mask of indifference slipping.  This man had been a friend
to both of us.  What comfort I could offer, I would give to him.  It
is what Jim would have done, and I would honor that part of Jim that
lived on inside me.  "I have never thanked you for his life."

McCoy turned to glare at me.  "What the hell is that supposed to
mean?"

"Only consider how many times you have saved his life.  I am in your
debt for all of those times."

He opened his mouth to speak, but then he turned back to stare out the
viewport in silence.  Then, his voice a low mumble, he said, "Thanks,
Spock.  I guess that's something - "  He lifted a fist and scrubbed at
his eyes, which made them even redder.  "He wasn't much over 20 when I
first met him, and I sometimes doubted that he'd live to see his 30th
birthday. "  He closed his eyes and shook his head.   "Damn."  He
opened his eyes and looked at me.  "How are you?"

"I am undamaged physically."

"Yeah, that thing you do - blocking the bond.  Guess it saved your
life."  McCoy frowned and looked at his boots. "Your father was
concerned, but I told him you were okay. You didn't want to talk to
him, did you?"

"Not at this time.  Thank you for diverting him."

"Two 'thank yous' in one day after none for so many years?  This is a
momentous occasion."  McCoy gripped the railing a little harder.
"Damn.  Sorry, Spock.  It was a stupid thing to say."  Another deep
breath.  "Have you talked to Sel?"

For a moment I could not determine to whom he referred, and then I
remembered our son.  "Doctor, I do not - "

"You have to call him.  He should hear it from you."

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what words I would say.  And I
failed.  "No doubt he already knows.  It was a rather public - "

I was startled to heard McCoy's chuckle.  How could he laugh?  "You
know, Spock, he would've loved it.  It was exactly the way he would've
wanted to die if he could have chosen.  So much for his intuition that
he would die alone."

I felt white-hot anger at McCoy, and then I paused, realizing that he
needed to talk, needed to find some comfort, to accept what had
happened. "Doctor, surely - "

"No, I'm not hysterical.  I know it hasn't really hit me yet, but now
I feel like I'm in full control of my faculties, but think about it,
Spock - "

"I find I can think of little else."

"A full room of diplomats and the command crew of both the Enterprise
and Sulu's ship.  Dramatic entrance.  He's been vindicated of all
charges related to the death of the chancellor.  Oh, yeah, before that
there was the dramatic rescue from Rura Penthe."  He took a sidelong
glance at me.  "A reconciliation with the love of his life."

I gasped softly and gripped my hands behind my back.

McCoy continued to speak.  "The daring leap to save the life of the
Federation President, and he dies instantly, a martyr to the cause of
the Klingon-Federation Peace Initiative."

I rested my forehead against the viewport.  It was cool like the touch
of his hand.  "You will forgive me if I am less than inspired by the
picture.  Perhaps you have forgotten that I authored the script that
set these events in motion.  I did not anticipate - "

"That he would ever die?"  McCoy gripped my elbow.  I flinched, but I
accepted that he required the touch.

"I had hoped - "

"For many more years together?"

"Yes."

"Think of what you had."  McCoy let go of my elbow and dug his hand
into his pocket.  "I almost forgot.  I have something for you."

He took my hand, dropped something into it, and stepped back to study
my face.

Initially, I clenched my fist and felt cool metal bite into my palm.
I thought of Jim's teeth nipping gently at the sensitive skin of my
palm and fingertips.

I almost stopped breathing when I opened my fist and looked down at
the two bands.

One was his Academy ring.  He had told me early in our friendship that
it was his most precious possession.  He had always been so very proud
of being a Starfleet officer.  I knew that I wanted more for him, but
it was logical that he had died the way he lived.  A Starfleet
officer.  I had worn this ring for a time when we were first bonded.
A private sign of our private commitment to each other.

The other band was the wedding ring that I had given him the day we
had formalized our bond on the red sands of Vulcan.  He had been
amused that I had chosen dilithium crystals to ornament the wide gold
band.  A practical - as well as aesthetically pleasing - choice.  I
remembered a day some years later that I had done the necessary
calculations to use the small, extremely refined crystals from both of
our wedding rings to give the Enterprise enough power to reach another
source of dilithium. Fortunately, we had found an alternative source
of power, and the rings had never left our hands.  Until now.

McCoy's voice was very quiet.  "It's amazing, isn't it?  The
sentimental power of a couple of hunks of metal."

I did not trust myself to speak.  I looked at McCoy, thinking how very
brave this man was.  I knew that he loved Jim.  Not in precisely the
same way as I; a Terran could not understand a Vulcan's love for his
mate. However, McCoy loved him with the same all-consuming intensity.
Had loved him.  Where does love go when the beloved is gone?

I knew that McCoy had personally completed the autopsy on Jim's body.
The autopsy required by regulations was the last of the numerous
medical procedures that McCoy had performed over the years of their
friendship.  His control at such a difficult time was impressive.

McCoy shifted from one foot to another.  "Well, I don't know about
you, but I'm going to go get rip-roaring drunk."

"That would not be my chosen way to honor his memory." I hesitated
when McCoy swept the back of his hand across his eyes.  "I will join
you for a drink after a time.  I require a moment to determine what I
will say to Selek. Then I will join you.  In your office?"

McCoy nodded. He walked out the door, and left me in silence.  A
terrible silence that would last for the next century that would
comprise my natural life span.

---

The End