Twice Upon A Time Pt 1 of 4 (K/S)

[gilda_elise]

Once upon a time, Jim Kirk had to kill his best friend. Twice upon a time.......



Originally published in Legends 2, 2002 by MKASHEF Enterprises

Twice Upon A Time

by Elise Madrid




Gary Mitchell pulled his shirt off, flopped down on the bed and kicked off his boots. He lay back, trying to forget the horror of what he had done, to forget that he had tried to take over the ship, kill his closest friend. And if it hadn’t been for their science officer’s quick thinking, he would have. Or Kirk would have killed him, if he could.

His captain had tried. Mitchell had the bruises to prove it. A few more minutes and one of them would have been dead. Just like Elizabeth...just like Kelso. He covered his face with his arm, hiding his shame and grief and bone-deep regret.

He remembered the desire to control, the paranoid delusions, and all the feelings that had propelled his actions. What he didn’t understand was why. What lay hidden within himself that, inveighed with that monstrous power, he had been capable of murder? He couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t actively desired Kirk’s death, because he had. There was no hiding from that.

There had always been a certain amount of envy on his part where his friend was concerned. Things seemed to come easy for Kirk. At the academy, women had flocked to the young cadet Kirk like bees to honey. And the boyish good looks had only matured to a devastating handsomeness that women found irresistable. When the captaincy had been handed Kirk, Mitchell had found old resentments he had thought long buried brought to the surface. The power had given him a way to bring himself up to his friend’s level, at least in his own mind.

The buzz of the door-signal interrupted his thoughts and brought him to the present. He sat up, unlocking the door and rising to meet his captain as Kirk walked into the room.

“Got a minute?” Kirk’s manner was hesitant.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?” Mitchell motioned to the chair placed across the desk and took his own.

Kirk lightly drummed his fingers on the desk, but self-consciously pulling his hand back when he noticed the nervous movement. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. Mark seemed to think that you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m happy the good doctor’s still concerned. I would have thought he’d recommend me for a padded cell first.”

“We all know what you did...wasn’t intentional.”

“Do you?” Mitchell smiled at Kirk’s look of surprise. “Did it ever occur to you that I might have always wanted to do the things I did? That the power only let loose what I already felt like doing?”

Kirk thought a moment. “Gary, we all have dark thoughts of what we would do if we could do whatever we wanted. Most of us never get the chance to find out. You weren’t so lucky.”

“Well, maybe.” Mitchell forced a mock gaiety, “So what’s the plan now? Do I get to stay with the ship, or are you going to ship me off to the closest hospital so I can be dissected...find out what makes me tick?”

“That’s not funny. Anyway, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Mark is leaving...guess he’s had enough. Our new CMO’s a good friend of mine, Leonard McCoy. I’m sure you’ve heard me mention him. I’ve known him for years. It’ll be up to him.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me about him. You think he’ll be able to tell me why I can’t...why I can’t...”

“What?”

Mitchell shook his head in confusion. “It’s hard to explain. Remember how I could always ‘feel’ my way through things? ‘See’ more than what showed on the surface, know when something was about to happen?”

“Yes. Your high psi-rating.”

“It’s gone.” Mitchell’s voice was almost angry. “Will McCoy be able to tell me why? Help me get it back?”

A look of compassion and regret passed over Kirk’s face. “I can already tell you why.”

“You know?”

“Yes. Mr. Spock told me.”

“Spock? What does he have to do with all this? I know he wanted me dead. If this is his way-”

“That’s not true. If he hadn’t figured out how to negate your powers, we would have had to kill you.”

Mitchell shrugged. “I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. It’s strange, I’ve never been able to figure Spock out. Always thought he just didn’t want to be involved with us emotional humans. But I always respected him, and I know that whatever he did, he did for the good of the ship. I guess I owe him one. So, what’d he do to me?”

Kirk rubbed his neck and hesitated a moment. “He tried to explain it to me. The serum he injected you with ‘blew out’ your powers by over-loading your brain with what gave you your psi abilities to begin with, a brain chemistry high in certain compounds. The added amount was just too much for it to handle. It destroyed everything. I’m sorry, Gary.”

Mitchell rested his head in his hands, vividly recalling the fight that had almost taken Kirk’s life. Caught up in the victory he thought was his, a boulder in his hands ready to crush the life from his captain, he hadn’t noticed the science officer sneak up behind him and empty the loaded hypo into his neck. “He might as well have killed me. I feel half dead this way, like my brain’s half asleep.”

“Maybe McCoy will be able to help you with that.” Kirk rose and came up to him, resting has hand on the bowed shoulders. “Listen, it’s almost dinner time. Why don’t we go for a bite to eat, maybe spend some time together...just you and me?”

He brought his head up and gazed at Kirk for a moment. He really didn’t feel like leaving his cabin. There were too many out there who hadn’t forgotten...or forgiven. “Jim, I-”

“Come on, Gary. You can’t hide in here forever.”

“I guess your right.” He reluctantly got up, and together they left for the mess. Mitchell still wasn’t sure where he stood with the ship...or his friend. But if Jim was willing to give it a try, maybe everything would be all right. He certainly hoped so.

* * *

Mitchell waited for his friend in the rec-room, taking the time to catch up on the latest gossip flying around the ship. At least, he was no longer everyone’s number one punching bag. Stiles now had that particular honor.

Kirk walked in and grabbed a cup of coffee before heading toward the table. He slid in across from Mitchell. “Been here long?”

“Just a few minutes. Been listening in though. The consensus seems to be that my back-up might need a few lessons in tolerance.” He was still on half-shifts, but maybe this would make his captain see how much he needed him on the bridge.

“You mean Stiles?” Kirk shook his head. “I’ll never know how he managed to get past the examiners at the Academy with that attitude. Hopefully, Mr. Spock saving his life will have a lasting affect. I just wish my science officer would open up more. It might have made a difference.”

“Spock’s okay. But I did tell you he’s almost impossible to get to know.”

“I’m finding that out. You should have seen McCoy’s first meeting with him. I’ve got a feeling it’s not going to be dull with those two at each other all the time.”

Mitchell frowned. “McCoy doesn’t like Mr. Spock?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that. Their styles are just different, that’s all. By the way, Bones tells me he’s been running some tests on you.”

“Yeah,” Mitchell replied ruefully. “For all the good it’s doing.”

“What’s wrong, Gary?”

“I don’t know, Jim. I feel okay, it’s just...like I’m seeing things through a fog. That’s not it, either...hell, I can’t explain it.”

“Bones is doing all he can,” Kirk replied softly.

“I know,” Mitchell barely whispered.

The doors opened up and Mr. Spock walked in. He headed directly for the food processors and punched up his selection. He took his tray and headed for a back table.

“Care to join us, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked, as the Vulcan walked by.

“No thank you, Captain. I have a report to go over at this time.” Spock nodded his head at the two men and continued on.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Mitchell asked, throwing a sympathetic look at Kirk.

“I know, I know. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“That’s what I like about you, Jim. Willing to try the impossible.”

* * *

Mitchell’s words were very much on Kirk’s mind weeks later as he watched Spock contemplate his next move. The chess set on the table created another barrier between them, a barrier just as inpenetrable as the one the Vulcan used to keep everyone out, including his captain.

Kirk sighed. Sometimes, he didn’t know why he even tried. Chess had been about the only thing Spock had been receptive to. It didn’t look like he was going to have any more luck figuring the Vulcan out than Mitchell had.

He saw Mitchell walk into the rec-room and head their way. He was surprised by the slight tenseness that shimmered through Spock’s lean physique when the science officer looked up and saw who had caught his attention.

“What can I do for you, Gary?” Kirk asked, as he moved his bishop up a level.

Mitchell straddled a chair, a sly look directed at Spock. “Just thought I’d see what you two were up to. Not to often you get to see our resident chess champion get spanked.”

Kirk’s eye’s flew to Spock. The Vulcan had stiffened even more, and Kirk thought he was going to cut Gary to pieces...figuratively, if not literally. Instead, Spock seemed uncharacteristicly unsure of himself, obviously stifling his initial response.

Finally, Spock relaxed and, lifting an eyebrow, gave Mitchell a look one would normally reserve for some species of fungus. “Being so easily amused must have its benefits. I am at a loss, however, as to what they might be.” He turned to his captain. “If you will excuse me, sir. There is an experiment in the lab that needs my attention. Perhaps, we can continue the game some other time.”

“Sure, Mr. Spock. No problem.” He watched the Vulcan stand and walk away before turning to his navigator. “What was that all about?”

“Beats me. He sure doesn’t know how to take a joke, does he?”

Kirk shook his head in exasperation, “Gary, have you been bothering him?”

“Who, me?” Mitchell chuckled, “Spock’s my pal.”

“Sure he is. That’s why he froze you out right now. I’ve never seen him do anything like that before.”

“So, we have a temperamental Vulcan on our hands. Forget about him. What I want to know is what your plans are once we hit Wrigley’s?”

The shoreleave rotation schedule had only been posted a few hours before, and Kirk had wondered if Mitchell would say anything to him. He already had plans with McCoy. “Bones and I are planning to go to a new place we’ve heard about. Suppose to cater to us military types.” At the fleeting look of disappointment on his friend’s face, he added, “Want to come along?”

“You sure McCoy won’t mind?”

“Why would he mind? Besides, it’ll be like old times. Remember that time you and I, and several junior classmen who shall remain nameless, spent the weekend checking out the strip joints in San Francisco?”

Mitchell grinned, and they spent the next hour reminiscing. But after his friend had left for the bridge, Kirk replayed the whole conversation in his mind. He never had seen Spock react that way... to anyone. He knew Gary was having trouble adjusting. They’d almost had some run-ins of their own.

What had Gary said? That Spock didn’t have a sense of humor? In fact, the science officer had proven to have a very compelling sense of humor. You just had to know what to look for. He remembered being both surprised and delighted the one time he had been the recipient of the Vulcan’s dry wit. It hadn’t happened again, much to Kirk’s disappointment.

He ruefully began putting away the chess pieces. It would probably be weeks before he’d be able to entice Spock into another game. Of course, it might have helped if he had called Mitchell on his less than respectful attitude toward a superior officer. Letting his old friend get away with that sort of thing was a habit he needed to break...especially since it seemed Mitchell was taking advantage of it more and more.

After what Kirk euphemistically called “the incident,” his friend had appeared to settle into his new existence, making a peace of sorts with himself. But it had only lasted a few weeks, and recently he had noticed a subtle change in the once carefree and happy-go-lucky young man. He was not quite so carefree anymore, sometimes displaying a certain level of surliness, and lashing out at the slightest provocation. It was putting a strain on the friendship...and maybe, on the running of the ship.

He finished putting the set away and headed for his quarters. They were on their way to Alfa 177 for a geological survey. If they were lucky, maybe they’d find something that would make this more than the milk-run it would undoubtedly be.

* * *

Kirk still thought his attempts to reach out to Mitchell, letting him know that the bonds of their friendship were still strong, and still worth holding on to, were worth the effort. At least, that‘s what he told himself as he waited abed in sickbay. He’d had the whole night to do nothing but think about himself, his friendships, and what it was that made a man who he was.

He hoped McCoy would finally release him. All the tests had shown that he was perfectly all right...at least as far as you could be after being split in two and then merged back together again. He sat up as the doctor came into the private room he had stuck Kirk in. No sense letting the crew think their captain was still having problems.

“Well? Do I get out of here?”

“Good morning to you, too.” McCoy ignored the look of disgust the other man threw him and handed him his uniform. “Yes, you can leave today. But take it easy. Let your first officer handle things for a while.”

“I plan to. He’s shown I can count on him.”

“Really?” McCoy’s eyebrows rose. “How? By treating what happened to you as a ‘fascinating’ experiment he was lucky enough to witness? I felt like slugging him.”

“He doesn’t mean to be that way, Bones. That’s just Mr. Spock.” Kirk got up and started to change.

“Yeah, right. By the way, Mitchell’s been asking about you.”

I’m sure he has.” Kirk finished dressing and then walked over to the mirror hanging over the sink in the corner, running his hands through his hair to try and get it into a semblance of order.

“What’s the matter? Something going on between you two I should know about?”

Kirk placed his hands on the sink’s edge and wearily shook his head, “Not really. It’s just that his reaction to all this wasn’t what I expected...or hoped for.”

“How’s that? He seemed to be acting okay to me.”

The captain turned and studied McCoy for a moment. “He’s just different, that’s all. The way he acted with my ‘wolf’...I got the impression that he’d prefer me that way.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Jim. He’s had a rough time, too. I’m still trying to find something to straighten him out. We’ve had a few successes but, by and large, he’s had to coup with the loss of his abilities alone.”

“Maybe you’re right. But sometimes it’s like I don’t know him anymore. He’ll act one way for a while, then make a one-eighty the next. I never know how he’ll react to anything. You sure there’s nothing going on?”

“Not that I’ve been able to detect. His tests have all come back negative, and the brainwave patterns that showed up before, haven’t returned.” He came up to Kirk and placed his hand on the captain’s shoulder. “Give him time. He’ll be okay in the long run.”

The two men walked out of the room together, and Kirk left sickbay and headed for his cabin, wishing there was someone he could talk to about this. McCoy was too involved, too close to the situation. He needed someone who could step back and be objective...someone like Mr. Spock. He laughed to himself. He could just imagine the Vulcan’s reaction to being pressed into service as a sounding board.

* * *

Mitchell sat at the back table of the rec room, his main objective anonymity. Mr. Spock had done a good job of cutting him done to size, and right now all he wanted was to sit by himself and nurse his wounds. The first officer had been on his back ever since they left Psi 2000. Actually, when he thought about it, the Vulcan had kept a close eye on him ever since the problem with the transporter.

Mitchell had been intrigued by the “wolf” Kirk, and had managed to talk to the man for a few minutes. Sneaking into sickbay, he peppered the supine man with questions, trying to find out what Kirk had kept hidden all these years. It turned out, Kirk wasn’t the saint everyone thought him to be. The “wolf” Kirk had almost talked Mitchell into releasing him when McCoy, Spock and the other Kirk had entered the room. Mitchell had made a fast retreat.

Ever since, he felt like he was constantly having to justify his actions, especially those dealing with their most recent mission. Maybe he should have got to the bridge faster than he had, but Ensign Rice had quite effectively side-tracked him. He had been after her for months, and the note she left pinned to his bed had proven too much to ignore. If they hadn’t bumped into Spock, the Vulcan wandering the corridors in a daze, no one would have ever known.

But they had, and now it seemed as if Spock was watching him all the time, just waiting to catch him in another slip-up. And Kirk...the captain had sided with the Vulcan every time. Mitchell didn’t hate the science officer, exactly. But he was making a good start. He rubbed at his neck, caught by his conflicting feelings. He kept trying to remember that it was because of the Vulcan that he himself still lived. It didn’t always help.

At the sound of the rec-room doors sliding open, he looked up from his contemplations in time to see Kirk enter with Dr. McCoy. He ducked his head down, making sure neither man noticed him as they took the table to his left. Ever since the doctor had come on board, he and Kirk had been thick as thieves.

Several months had passed since their run-in with the barrier at the edge of the galaxy, and it seemed to be getting harder and harder to keep his friendship with Kirk from imploding. God only knew he had tried, and if he was honest with himself, so had Kirk. But for some reason, the camaraderie and trust that had always defined their relationship was slipping away.

“I had to hit him, Bones.”

Kirk’s words caught Mitchell’s attention. He propped his elbows on the table and brought his hands up to shield his face, trying to hide himself from the two men. He listened intently to their conversation, stealing glances as best he could.

“What’d he do?” McCoy’s voice was pitched as low as Kirk’s, but Mitchell had no trouble making out what they were saying.

“He hit me back.” Kirk rubbed his jaw. “That seemed to shake him up even more, because he finally started coming out of it. It was so strange, seeing him that way.”

“How’s he been since?”

“Distant...more so than usual. I’ve tried to draw him out, but that little episode seems to have undone all the hard work I put in to get him to loosen up.”

“Well, Jim, I’ve never understood why you even try. Apparently, that’s just the way the man is. Why fight it?”

Kirk shook his head. “I don’t believe it, that’s why. There’s more there than he’s ever let any of us see. There has to be. I just wish I could figure out how to get to it.”

“Why? He’s done just about everything he can to discourage you.”

“I’ve wondered that myself. I can’t explain it. There’s just something about him that, I don’t know, ‘fascinates’ me to coin a phrase. I talked to Chris about him when I first got the ship. He said that Spock was loyal, efficient, and very private. In all their years serving together, they never had a personal conversation, never spent time together outside of duty. It just disturbs me, thinking that he’s all alone the way he is. I know if I could get through to him, we could have a really good relationship.”

“If you say so...you’re not planning on inviting him on shoreleave with us, are you?” McCoy asked.

“I’m not crazy. You and Gary would kill me if I even tried.”

“Gary?” McCoy’s voice rose slightly in surprise. “I didn’t know you had invited him.”

“Do you mind? Things haven’t been going too well between us lately. I figured it’s be a good way to-”

“Dr. McCoy, please report to sickbay.” The voice over the intercom interrupted Kirk and the doctor gave him a helpless shrug.

“Better go. We’ve got an ensign down there with a severe allergic reaction.”

“Nothing too bad, I hope.” Kirk looked up as McCoy rose from his seat.

“No, Seems he tried some new aphrodisiac that guaranteed results...well, he got them all right. Big, bright red ones all over his...privates. I’ve been trying to come up with something to help relieve the swelling. We probably got the latest lab results back.”

Kirk laughed, “You better be on your way, then. See you later, McCoy.”

The room quieted after that, but when Mitchell lifted his head Kirk was looking right at him, a small smile on his face.

“Eavesdropping, Gary?”

“N..no. I didn’t want to interrupt you and the doctor, that’s all.”

“I see.” Kirk got up and walked over to his table. He didn’t sit down, just stood next to it, but his eyes never left Mitchell’s face. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Sure we are, Jim. Why would you ask that?”

“Just wondering. I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“You can thank your first officer for that. It was his idea to put me on beta shift.”

“He’s only doing his job, Gary.”

“You always stick up for him, do you know that?”

There was a distant look in Kirk’s eyes when he finally answered. “Only when he’s right.”

The captain was half way to the door before Mitchell found his voice. “Jim?”

Kirk stopped and turned around. “Yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow for shoreleave?”

Kirk only nodded and walked away.

* * *

Shoreleave helped the two men draw closer together, even if sometimes Mitchell felt that he was still somehow losing his friend. He didn’t know where those thoughts came from, only that when they did, he wanted to lash out at the closest person available. More often than not, that person happened to be the first officer.

The Vulcan was up to something, he just knew it. Something to do with the captain. He was always there, making himself indispensible to Kirk, always ready with the answers. But Mitchell had been the one Kirk had turned to when, Kodos dead and his daughter completely insane, the captain had needed someone to be there in silent support. Later, after dropping Lenore and her father’s body off at the nearest starbase, the two men had gone out and got roaring drunk.

Trying to dispel the dark thoughts, Mitchell started whistling softly as he made his way to sick-bay. McCoy was nagging him about having another physical, still probing for any signs of instability, any sign that the powers were returning. He could have told him there was nothing to worry about.

He was better, the fog that had settled over his mind after his psi abilities had been destroyed had lifted, but that was about it. And if he had been left in a world suddenly flat and devoid of substance, no one seemed to be of the mind to care. All they worried about was what would happen to them. If he could do any of the things he had been able to, a certain science officer would be in deep trouble.

He entered sick-bay to find Nurse Chapel its only occupant.

“Where’s Dr. McCoy?” He smiled at the woman. She wasn’t half bad, but the entire crew knew about her ridiculous crush on Mr. Spock. Still, one never knew, and Mitchell wasn’t the type to pass up a chance like this. He came over and settled on the edge of her desk, leaning close.

“He went to the lab for a moment. He told me to tell you to wait in his office.” She nervously gathered up the report she was working on. “I’ll be in the back room if you need anything.” She got up and, with a backward glance, walked through the connecting doorway.

Mitchell laughed and went into McCoy’s office, taking the chair next to the cluttered desk. He propped his feet up on the corner, and leaned back as he scanned the room. He’d been there so many times he had the room memorized, so the large, obviously recent report on the nearby credenza caught his eye immediately.

He got up and sauntered over, casting a quick glance at the closed door. The over-sized words “Tantalus Colony” grabbed his attention, and he opened up the cover and began scanning through the report.

His eyes widened as he read what Kirk had gone through on the planet. The captain’s recent and numerous meetings with McCoy now made sense. Apparently, Kirk was still trying to deal with the after-effects of the machine he had been subjected to. Amazement turned to anger when he read how McCoy and Mr. Spock had known there was trouble on the colony. He slammed the report closed. As he tried to come to terms with his new life, a life drained of a large part of what had made him who he was, the Vulcan had blithely gone along, his mental powers not affected in the least. Mitchell thought about leaving, afraid of what he’d say to the doctor. How much of the animosity he felt toward the first officer would slip out as he demanded the answers that he felt were his due?

The door slid open and McCoy walked in. In a hurry, he sat down but didn’t look up from the chart in his hand, didn’t notice that Mitchell was barely containing his anger. “Just take a seat, Gary. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Mitchell sat down, trembling with rage. “Doctor?”

Something in Mitchell’s voice got through to McCoy and he looked up, puzzled. “What’s the matter?”

“Doctor, what exactly is a ‘mind-meld’?”

“How do you know about mind-melds?” McCoy watched him warily.

Mitchell only nodded his head toward the report.

“You had no right going through-”

“I had every right!” He came up out of his chair, and his hands slammed against the desk.

“Sit down, Gary.” McCoy stared at the younger man until, with a look of disgust, Mitchell returned to his seat. The doctor leaned over and hit the intercom. “McCoy to bridge. Jim?”

“What is it, Bones?” Kirk sounded mildly distracted.

“Jim, I’ve got a minor problem down here. Do you think you could spare a few minutes?”

They could hear soft talking in the background. Kirk was keeping his voice low, but Mitchell could distinctly pick out Mr. Spock’s baritone as he and the captain conversed. Finally, Kirk got back to them.

“I’ll be right there. Kirk out.”

The two men sat silently during the ten minutes it took Kirk to get to sick-bay. When the captain entered McCoy’s office, he glanced from one man to the other and frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Gary wants to know why we didn’t tell him about Spock’s telepathy.” McCoy leaned back, his arms folded.

Kirk pulled up a third chair, and settled himself next to Mitchell. “How did you find out?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not. Gary...you know what a private man Mr. Spock is. I wouldn’t have found out about it if he hadn’t thought it was vital to the welfare of the ship for him to use it.”

“So, you thought his privacy was more important than my right to know?”

“What right? What Spock has or doesn’t have, doesn’t concern you. It’s a strictly personal-”

“To hell it is! That...man took everything from me! Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to adjust to this...this change in me? Even after all this time, I still don’t feel the same. It’s been a nightmare. Hell, at first I didn’t even think I’d ever be able to navigate the ship anymore.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” McCoy interjected.

He rubbed the back of his head, a gesture that was becoming habit, trying to get his thoughts in order. “It’s hard to explain. It made me...more aware of the ship in an odd sort of way.” He brought his hand down, looking from Kirk to McCoy, almost pleading. “Can’t you see what this has done? He should have just let me die. Instead, he’s condemned me to this half existence, while he keeps what he’s got. Why is that? Why?” He waved the doctor off. “Forget it. I really don’t expect an answer.”

“Well, I’ve got one for you. I know you’re aware that the telepathy you had was caused by your brain’s somewhat unique chemical make-up. Mr. Spock’s, on the other hand, is physiological. It’s hardwired into him, part of his brain structure.”

“Gary, it’s not Spock’s fault. He was only trying to save your life,” Kirk said, his voice soft.

“He shouldn’t have bothered.” He looked at the doctor. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, go ahead. We’ll reschedule for another day.”

Mitchell got up and walked out without a word to either man. As he made his way to his cabin, he pondered the information he had garnered from the report. Mr. Spock was telepathic, but he had to be in physical contact to pick up anything. His skin crawled. No way was he ever going to let the Vulcan touch him again.

* * *

The turbolift doors opened, depositing High Commissioner Ferris on the bridge. Kirk looked over, noted the man’s smug expression and turned back to study the viewscreen. Murasaki 312 spiralled before them, blocking out the stars ahead.

“Captain to shuttlecraft Galileo. Stand by Mr. Spock.” He started to rise from his chair when the intercom opened up.

“Sickbay to Captain Kirk.”

“Bones? What are you doing in sickbay? The shuttle’s about to launch.”

“’Fraid not, Jim. I’ve got Spock down here. He collapsed on our way to the shuttlebay. I’m running some tests on him right now. Looks like some kind of poison.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Kirk frowned.

“I’m not sure yet. He’s pretty sick. You’d better get replacements for both of us.”

“Okay. Call me as soon as you know something.”

“Will do. McCoy out.”

Kirk thougt a moment before reopening a channel to the shuttlebay, “Kirk to Mr. Scott.”

“Scott here.”

“Something’s come up with Mr. Spock, and McCoy’s got him in sickbay. I’m going to need you to stay with the ship. I’m sending replacements down for the three of you. Go over the mission with them, make sure they know what to look for, then get up here.”

“Aye, Captain. Is Mr. Spock all right?”

“I’m not sure, Scotty. Kirk out.” Kirk ordered the replacements and then looked up at Commodore Ferris. “This won’t take long Commodore. The shuttle will only be out for a few hours.”

“I remind you Captain, I am entirely opposed to this delay. Your mission is to get those emergency medical supples to Marcus Three in time for their transfer to the New Paris Colony.”

“No problem, Commissioner. And may I remind you that I have standing orders to investigate all quasars and quasar-like phenomena wherever they may be encountered?” Kirk got up and proceeded over to the science station, checking the read-outs Mr. Spock had set up before his departure. “Besides, it’s three days to Marcus, and the rendezvous doesn’t take place for five. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see what’s going on with my first officer.” Kirk turned and started for the turbolift. “Mr. Mitchell, you have the com.”

On his way to sickbay, he thought about this latest problem with Spock. Recently, nothing had gone right for the first officer. He couldn’t imagine that someone as responsible and intelligent as the man was could misplace so many things, or make the errors that had been showing up in his work. Could he be that wrong about him? Spock had seemed at a loss to account for the problem, but it had been disconcerting to see the Vulcan obviously upset, or at least as upset as Spock ever got. Kirk pushed the problem aside as he made sickbay. He walked over to McCoy, who was sitting at his desk staring at his computer screen.

“What’s going on?” Kirk took the seat across from the doctor.

“He’s been poisoned.” McCoy leaned over and pushed the terminal around, allowing Kirk to see the chart there.

Kirk shook his head and pushed it back. “I can’t make out anything from that. Tell me what you’ve found.”

“I don’t know how, but he’s got traces in his system of the same poison that almost killed Kevin Riley.”

“The one Lenore Karidian used?”

“That’s right. It’s not normally effective on Vulcans, but Mr. Spock’s human half proved to be a problem. I don’t have to tell you how that particular bit of news went over with him.”

“Is he all right?”

McCoy sighed, “He’s out of the woods, but he’s far from all right. That stuff played havoc with his system. I’m keeping him here for at least two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“Hell, Jim, he almost died. It almost destroyed his liver. That’s not something you get over in a day, even with a Vulcan healing trance. He’s going to have to take it easy for a while.”

“I don’t understand. Riley was out of here within hours.”

“Yeah, but we caught it right away. This stuff has been in Mr. Spock’s system for days. If he had bothered to say something as soon as he started feeling bad...” The doctor shrugged.

“I guess I can have Gary back-up as first. Science is going to be a tough one, though.”

“That’s not your only problem.”

“No?”

“No. Maybe I’m not making myself clear. Spock didn’t just accidently ingest this stuff. Someone tried to kill him, and came pretty close to succeeding.”

Kirk rubbed his chin as he pondered McCoy’s accusation. “That is a problem. Who on board would have the opportunity, and desire, to do that?”

“I don’t know, Jim. But you’d better find out. I wouldn’t imagine that whoever it is is going to just give up.”

I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to kill him? What motive would they have?”

“You’re kidding. He isn’t exactly Mr. Popularity, you know. He’s pissed off more than a few people. Not exactly the friendly type, if you know what I mean.”

“Just because he keeps to himself is no reason to kill a man, Bones. Can I see him now?”

“Yeah, just keep it short. He needs to rest. I put him in the back room. It’s more private, and I could raise the temperature to make it more comfortable for him.”

Kirk got up and headed to the room. The temperature was well over ship’s norm, and a light sweat broke out on his forehead as the door closed behind him. His first officer was asleep, the signs of illness and exhaustion etched on his face. Kirk walked over and stood beside the bed. More than ever, he wished he and this man had been able to connect more than they had. As it was, he didn’t have a clue as to what could have transpired to make anyone hate the Vulcan enough to want him dead. And Spock probably wouldn’t tell him, even if he knew. He started to leave but was drawn back when Spock moved, his eyes slowly opening.

“Captain?” The Vulcan tried to sit up, but apparently decided against it after only a half-hearted attempt.

“How are you doing?” Kirk asked, studying his first officer.

“I am functional.” Spock looked away, but not before Kirk saw in the Vulcan’s eyes a vulnerability he had never thought to see there.

“McCoy says you’re going to be in here a while.”

“Yes,” Spock nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

“Spock, someone tried to kill you.”

“I assumed as much.”

“Do you have any idea who it could have been?”

Spock shook his head. “No, Captain, I do not.”

“I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to kill you? You haven’t done anything to warrant it.”

“Sometimes...sometimes what I am is enough provocation for some.”

“Because you’re Vulcan? I can’t believe that.”

Spock looked at him, as if he wanted to say something more. But in the end, he just looked away.

I’m trying to help you, Mr. Spock. If you have any suspicions, I need to know about them.”

“No, Captain. No suspicions.” Spock kept his head turned away, his words barely audible.

Kirk sighed, “Okay, I’m letting it go for now. Get some rest. But don’t think I’m letting this drop, Mister. You’re hiding something. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone kill you just to preserve your precious privacy.”

He walked out and headed back to the bridge. Would he ever understand this man?

* * *

The bar was only half full when they entered. Kirk motioned to a vacant table at the back and, with McCoy and Mitchell in tow, wended his way over. He took the chair against the wall, scanning the room as his friends sat down. The waitress came over and graced Kirk with a smile.

“What can I get you, gentlemen?” Her words were for all three men, but her eyes remained locked on Kirk, her appreciation obvious.

McCoy noticed the unspoken exchange between his captain and the young woman and shook his head. “I’ll have a bourbon, straight up.”

“Whiskey.” Kirk smiled, turning the full force of his charm on her.

“Uh, the same.” Mitchell laughed as the waitress walked off. “Careful, Jim. That one’s known to be trouble.”

Kirk turned to his friend in surpise. “Trouble? How so?”

“She’s looking for a meal ticket. Your face wasn’t the only thing she noticed.” He tapped a finger against the captain’s stripes on Kirk’s arm.

Kirk shrugged. “I can handle it. Besides, the night is young. Plenty of time to decide how I want to spend it.” He noticed a lot of military personal in the bar. Figured. Starbase eleven was a favorite stop-over for space-weary crewmen looking for a good time...or a way to forget about the companions they had lost. He mentally shook himself. Now was not the time to think about the seven crewmembers lost on Taurus II.

He glanced over at McCoy, and noticed the doctor appraising him. He gave a weak smile. This whole thing had been set up to help him get over, or at least put behind him, the tragic incident. When, with Scotty expertise, they had finally been able to pierce the sensor interference and locate the small ship, he had ordered a rescue party down to the planet. The Galileo was in pieces, parts strewn across a wide expanse. The crew had made a valiant effort to keep the natives of the planet out, but with little success. Seven bodies were finally found and brought back to the ship. Even now they lay in deep-freeze, waiting their eventual return to the planets of their birth.

Kirk lapsed into silence until their drinks were brought. But the smile he gave the girl had lost some of its previous wattage. He turned to the doctor. “I’m glad you were able to make it, Bones. I thought you had decided to stay on the ship.”

“I was going to, but Mr. Spock’s getting better. I added a mild tranquilizer to his medication, keep him from trying to leave sickbay. I swear, that man’s almost as bad as you are when it comes to staying put. Kept going on about needing to finish his work.”

“Well, I can’t fault the man for that. He is the best at what he does.”

“Yeah, well, those two gorillas you have stationed outside his room don’t help much, either.”

“Someone tried to kill him, Bones. I needed to do something. Until we find whoever it is-”

“Gentlemen, may I remind you that we’re on shoreleave?” Mitchell looked from one man to the other. “As ‘fascinating’ as you both seem to find our first officer, I, for one, would much rather talk about something else.”

“Okay. How about the three women you promised would be meeting us here tonight?” Kirk took a sip of his drink, his glance drifting around the room.

“They’ll be here, don’t worry. Have I ever let you down before?”

“Who are these women, anyway?” McCoy asked.

“Tina’s an old friend from the academy. One of the few girls with enough sense to prefer me to Jim. I’ve never met the other two. I think they work with her.”

“I don’t understand. Isn’t she in the military?”

“He left that part out,” Kirk quipped.

“She didn’t finish. Seems they found out she was making money on the side...spreading her charms,” Mitchell replied sheepishly.

“Oh, great. Professionals. That really wasn’t what I had in mind,” McCoy groused.

“No, no, they’re not. She was only doing it to pay for tuition. After she left the academy, she got a job with some transport company. Been in that line of work ever since. Right now, she’s working for some outfit...Eternal Travels, or something like that.”

McCoy almost choked on his drink. “Eternal Travels? Don’t you know what that is?”

“Never heard of it.”

“What is it, Bones?” Kirk asked.

McCoy chuckled, “It’s a funeral service. They load up your body and, for a substantial fee, shoot it into orbit around the planet of your choice...an uninhabited one, of course.”

“You’re kidding?” Mitchell looked stunned.

“I kid you not,” McCoy turned to Kirk. “I hope this doesn’t say anything about what the other two are like.”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Kirk looked at Mitchell. “Do you know what the other two look like?”

“Actually, I do. One’s a great looking brunette, and the other is a stacked blonde...and they just walked in the door.”

All three men rose as the women approached, Mitchell taking the tall, willowy, brunette in an intimate embrace. He gave her a thorough kiss before turning to his friends. “Jim, Leonard, meet Tina Lewis.”

The woman put out her hand, and firmly shook both men’s with a confident grip. “Gentlemen, this is Kelly D’Angelo.” She motioned to the other brunette who only smiled and stepped aside, letting the buxom blonde come forward. “And Michelle Stuart.”

The blonde woman stepped closer, her eyes on McCoy. “Tina says you’re a friend of Gary’s.”

“That’s right.” The doctor grinned and pulled out the seat next to his, “Your chair, my lady.”

With a laugh, the woman sat down. Tina took a seat and pulled her chair close to Mitchell, while the quiet brunette, after a hesitant look, sat next to Kirk.

“You’re their captain?” She gazed at Kirk.

“Yes,” Kirk smiled at her, liking her quiet charm right off.“But my name is Jim.”

“Jim. Nice name. Have you known Gary long?”

“Almost fifteen years. Since the academy.”

Kelly looked at Mitchell and her friend, both lost in a deep conversation. “Yes, Tina mentioned that’s where she met him.”

“Is that a problem?” Kirk watched the play of emotions across her face.

“No, no problem. I guess I just figured you would be more like them.”

“Them? You mean Gary and Tina?”

“Yes. You know, boisterous, the life of the party type.”

Kirk took her hand. “No, we’re not all like that. Some of us like quiet times, good conversation.”

She smiled at him then, a smile that promised both, and more.

* * *

Kirk strolled through the corridors of the ship, heading for the transporter room. It was nice to be back on board, but he kept thinking about the shoreleave the week before. Kelly had been great. After a night of conversation and dancing, they had gone to her apartment. The sex had been fabulous. Slow, and just hard enough. For the next three days, they had divided their time between on-the-town with their four friends, and quiet interludes alone together. He hoped she was still unattached the next time he made the planet.

The shoreleave had had the added plus of seeming to completely restore his and Gary’s friendship to its previous level. It had been like old times. They had double-dated a lot as cadets, and those last few days had brought back the closeness they had lost.

The picnic the six of them had gone on the second day of their leave had been the catalyst for a long talk between the two friends. While McCoy had enthralled the three women with stories of life aboard a starship, Kirk and Mitchell had taken a walk, trying to sort through the complex web of hurt feelings and betrayed trust that had come between them. It hadn’t been easy.

The path they chose meandered through the dense brush that grew wild in the now-dry stream bed, creating a cocoon of quiet and solitude. After twenty minutes or so, they had sat down in the deep grass and fought to find a way to restore what had been lost.

“Do you remember Rene Wells?” Mitchell’s question had broken the silence that had suddenly come between them.

“Long, dark hair, blue eyes?” Kirk leaned back, resting on one elbow.

“That’s the one. I had a real thing for her, did you know that?

“No, I didn’t. What happened?”

Mitchell was quiet for a moment, picking at a blade of grass and absentmindedly chewing on its stem. “She wouldn’t give me the time of day. The only one she was interested in was a certain intense cadet with his nose constantly buried in a book.”

“Me? I didn’t know that.” Kirk pondered the information for a few moments. “I wonder why she never said anything. I don’t remember her ever even talking to me.”

“No, she wouldn’t have. She was one of the quiet ones. She would have waited for you to make the first move. And of course, you never did. This was right before you met Ruth.” Mitchell chuckled, “I guess it took an older woman to get you out of your shell. Anyway, I think that was the first time I lost out to you. It sure hasn’t been the last.”

“Does it bother you, Gary?”

“It hadn’t, not for a long time. But this thing,” Mitchell made a motion to his brow, “it’s dredged up a lot of old issues I thought dead and buried a long time ago. You’re my friend, Jim. That hasn’t changed. What’s changed is how I see things, people. Maybe that’s why I’ve been having trouble with Mr. Spock.”

“What’s he got to do with us, our friendship?”

“I’m not sure. But I think he still sees me as a danger.”

Kirk sat up, a red-alert sounding at the back of his mind. “Are there problems between you?”

“No. He doesn’t do anything that could be construed as a threat. It’s just a feeling I have. You’ve gotten closer to him, haven’t you?”

Kirk was taken aback by the question. “No, not really. He’s a hard man to get to know.”

“Then how come you’ve been spending so much more time with him?”

“He’s my first officer. I need to know him.” He puzzled over it for a moment. “And...there’s something about him that...calls to me. That’s not right, but I can’t find the words to really explain it. I guess he intrigues me. I won’t deny I’ve tried to become friends with him, so far with little success.”

Mitchell seemed satified with that answer, sitting up and smiling. “That mean I don’t have to worry about him taking you away from me?”

“Taking me away from you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just kidding, Jim.” Mitchell stood up and extended his hand to help his captain up. “Come on. Let’s walk some more.”

And they had. By the time they returned to the rest of the group, Kirk felt that the air had been cleared between them. It was a good feeling to have things back to normal.

He reached the transporter room, looking forward to the reception Commodore Travers would undoubtedly have waiting for them on Cestus III.

* * *

Kirk turned over on his side, trying to get comfortable on the narrow bed. McCoy had insisted on him staying in sickbay for the night, arguing that you never knew what the side-effects the kind of transporting Kirk went through might have. God, he felt like this was becoming his permanent quarters, he was landing in sickbay so often. But the array of bruises on his body had been the clincher. The Gorn had almost crushed several ribs, and his ankle would need a few more treatments before it was back to normal.

The very dim light allowed him to see only a vague outline of his first officer, still ensconced in sickbay. McCoy had hinted at releasing both of them in the morning. He hoped so. The last days had shown just how much he had come to rely on Spock’s expertise. He wished he could somehow make contact with the man. The news the Vulcan had received earlier in the day couldn’t have been easy to take alone.

When Kirk saw Spock’s hand come up and lightly rub his forehead, he made his decision. He got up and quietly walked across the room until he was at the side of his first officer’s bed.

“Mr. Spock?”

Spock slowly brought his hand down, eyeing his captain warily. “Yes, Captain?”

Kirk shifted on his feet, beginning to doubt his hasty decision. “I thought you might feel like talking. You seem to be having the same problem sleeping as I am.”

“Vulcans do not require the amount of sleep humans do. I have tried to make Dr. McCoy cognizant of this fact, but he has seen fit to ignore me.”

“He’s only looking out for what’s best for you.” Kirk watched the Vulcan for a moment. “I thought you might want to talk about Chris Pike.”

Spock stiffened, his stare locked on the ceiling above. “There is nothing to say.”

“You served with him for a very long time. His death-”

“Vulcans do not react to death the way humans do.”

“Don’t they? I thought he was a friend of yours.”

“As you say, we...served together. I respected his professionalism and adherance to duty.”

Kirk knew there was so much more going on here than Spock was willing to admit. Sorrow radiated off the Vulcan. Was he the only one who could see it? “Spock...I know it’s hard to lose someone you’ve known a long time, even if all you felt was respect. Even Vulcans honor their dead.”

“Yes...even Vulcans.” He hesitated a moment. ”There was much to honor in Captain Pike.”

“I wonder what he was like...as a person, I mean. I imagine we all wonder about people after they’re gone, if perhaps we should have tried to know them better, spend more time with them.”

Spock finally turned and looked at Kirk. “Why are you here, Captain?”

Kirk gave a small smile. “I’m not really sure. I wanted to say how sorry I was to hear of the death of your fr...of your former captain. But I guess that’s only part of it. You see, Mr. Spock, for some unknown reason I feel a connection to you. I can’t explain it. You’ve done just about everything you could to discourage any kind of relationship between us, other than a professional one. Yet I still can’t help but feel there could be something really good between us, if you’d let it.”

“Why? Why would you desire such between us?”

“Why not? Is it so hard for you to accept that someone might want to get to know you? Might find you interesting, and worth cultivating as a friend?”

“That thought had not occurred to me.” Spock’s gaze strayed back to the ceiling. “Captain Pike was not my friend. There was mutual respect, and the loyalty that a Vulcan must give to those he serves, but never the intimacy of friendship. I believe it is something he might have desired, but I was unable to respond. What you ask of me...it is difficult for one such as I.”

“I know that, but I don’t expect miracles. Just think about it, okay?”

“Yes, Sir. I will do that.”

“That’s all I ask. Now get some sleep, Mr. Spock.” He returned to his bed, knowing that he’d be able to sleep now. Something had started tonight, of that he was sure. Only time would tell if it would grow into more. He hoped so.

* * *

True to his word, McCoy released both men the following morning, with the proviso that they both “take it easy.” Easier said than done. It was several weeks before there was a break in the constant emergencies that seemed to follow the ship. When asked by Ambassodor Fox to remain with him on Eminiar VII for a few days to aid in his efforts to bring peace to the system, Kirk jumped at the chance. He was pleasantly surprised when Spock agreed to join him.

The room they were given overlooked a large park, a city-locked island of green. Kirk stood at the balcony, enjoying the view while Spock completed his preparations for dinner. A banquet was being prepared in honor of Ambassador Fox and his successful negotiations of a peace treaty. When the Vulcan came to stand beside him, Kirk turned and smiled. Gone was the regulation blue of Starfleet. Ordered to present themselves at their best, Spock was dressed in a black tunic and pants, the austere color complimented by the dark-purple piping set in an inticate design on the shoulders and lapels of the tunic.

“You look great, Mr. Spock. Is that the way they dress on Vulcan?”

Spock nodded. “For formal occasion, yes, Captain.” His eyebrows went up in questions. “And you?”

Kirk shrugged. “Might as well go with the program.” The pale gold tunic he wore was off-set by the tan pants that hugged his body. He hadn’t worn the outfit in a while, the need for such formal dress rarely needed on a starship, and handily covered by his dress uniform anyway.

They left for the banquet, arriving with several minutes to spare. Their assigned seats were at the table immediately to the right of the Ambassador’s. Taking their places, Kirk began to scan the room. “I hope this doesn’t last too long. Sitting for such a long time really doesn’t suit me. I’d never have made it as a diplomat.”

Spock cocked his head, ”I would think you would make an excellent diplomat. Your ability to see things as they really are, to ‘cut to the chase’ of the matter, would be invaluable in the arena of negotiations.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stick with being captain of a starship.”

“To which you are extremely well suited.” Spock hesitated a moment. “I must admit to have had certain...misgivings when it was announced that you would be the next captain of the Enterprise.”

“Really?” Kirk was intriqued. “Why’s that?”

“As I have previously stated, my relationship with Captain Pike was a formal one. But I was not his first officer. And I knew that the very nature of our association would demand more.”

“But that would have been the case with whoever got the ship.”

“Perhaps. But I was cognizant of your...unorthodox mode of operation, having read your complete file-”

“You read the whole thing?” Kirk was amazed. He’d seen his file. Starfleet bureaucracy being what it was, the thing was massive.

“Of course. I desired to know all I could about you.”

“And you thought we wouldn’t work well together.” It was not a question.

“I believed there would be a certain...difficulty in reaching a satifactory work environment.”

“And was there?”

Spock almost smiled, or so it seemed to Kirk. “No, there was not. You were everything I could have wished for in a commanding officer.”

Something passed between them then, an unspoken promise of trust and reliance, something that didn’t lessen as the night wore on and the days passed. And when, three days later, they were picked up by the Enterprise, Kirk felt he had finally found the friend he had always known was there waiting for him.

* * *

Mitchell kept his attention fastened on the board in front of him, his hands at the ready. The explosion at the helmsman’s station, and Sulu’s temporary incapacitation, had almost distracted him from his job. The Enterprise glided over and around the ripples of time displacement as Mitchell’s fingers flew over the controls. He felt alive, the ship an extension of his own body, and he finally turned to throw a fast wink at the still shaken helmsman.

No one was better at this than he was. No one. He had brought the ship through, unscathed. Just as he had when they had almost collided with that antique of a ship floating in space while the captain and first officer had been off pretending to be diplomats. He was up for a commendation for that one. Too bad the occupants hadn’t made it. The eighty of so life readings had stilled before Mr. Scott finally decided to board her.

As he brought the ship safely through the last of the disturbances, he relaxed back in his chair, turning to face his senior officers. How’s that, Mr. Science Officer?

“Captain, the last of the readings from the planet below have been forwarded to Starfleet. Will we be going down to investigate?” Spock was standing next to the captain, that odd look on his face that Mitchell had been noticing more and more whenever the Vulcan and Kirk were together, ever since they had spent days together on Eminiar VII.

Kirk looked up at his first officer. “No, I don’t think so. Starfleet’s already got another problem for us. Seems that Commissioner Hedford has developed Sakuro’s disease. McCoy’s got the antidote on board. If we leave right now, we can get there in time.”

“I do not believe that Commissioner Hedford would appreciate being designated a ‘problem’.”

“No? Well, Mr. Spock, that’s exactly what she tends to be. From everything I’ve heard, the woman is...difficult.”

“If you say so, sir. I presume you will be accompaning the good doctor?”

“It’ll only be for a few hours. Once McCoy is sure she’ll recover, we’ll beam back up to the ship. And ‘we’ will be accompaning him. If I’ve got to have the pleasure of her company, so do you.”

“Indeed?” Spock’s eyebrow rose, the tone of his voice misinterpreted by the fuming navigator. Who the hell did that Vulcan think he was, talking to the captain in that manner?

Kirk laughed in delighted surprise, “Yes, indeed.” He looked over, catching Mitchell off guard. “Mr. Mitchell, set a course for Epsilon Canaris Three, warp six.”

“Yes, sir.” The smile he sent his captain’s way was not returned. Was not, in fact, even noticed. Mitchell swivelled forward and plotted the new course, his attention still on the conversation behind him.

“Up for a game tonight? We won’t make the rendezvous until morning, but after that it might be a while before we have the time again.” Kirk’s voice was low, sharing an intimacy with the Vulcan that had always been reserved for him. Mitchell’s fists clenched at the first officer’s response.

“Is nineteen hundred hours convenient? There is an experiment in progress that I wish to observe.”

“That’ll be fine. I’ll even have supper brought up, because I know you won’t have ate.”

The rest was lost on Mitchell, and when the two men left the bridge, Kirk’s leaving Sulu in charge didn’t even register. His slow burn had flared to a roaring blaze, his growing distrust of the Vulcan taking on a new dimension.

* * *

Kirk’s fingers drummed impatiently, his other hand holding open the book propped on the desk. He glanced at the chromometer, his eyes narrowing. It wasn’t like Spock to be late. Closing the book, he reached over to the intercom.

“Kirk to science lab. Mr. Spock, please respond.” The seconds passed. When no reply was forthcoming after his second request, Kirk knew something was wrong. He switched channels and ordered security to the science labs before hurrying there himself.

The lab doors opened and he rushed in. Mr. Spock was being helped off the floor by two security men, blood slowly oozing from the crown of his head. He was lowered to a chair where he sat staring vacantly.

“What happened?” Kirk frowned when the Vulcan didn’t respond. “Get McCoy down here,” He ordered, before going down on one knee.

Spock’s head was lowered to his chest, and his breathing was labored. Kirk gently lifted the Vulcan’s chin, his worry deepening when he saw the pain etched on Spock’s face, the obvious fight to retain consciousness. “Hold on, Spock.”

Spock hesitantly nodded his head, “I do not...I-”

“Don’t try to talk right now. McCoy will be here any second.” Kirk looked anxiously around, until his gaze was caught by the bloodied stick one of the security men was carefully wrapping. “What is that?”

“It’s from engineering, sir. It’s used to manually tighten down the air hatches in the event of power loss.” The man turned it, bringing the hooked end into Kirk’s view. Blood and hair matted its end.

Kirk swore. This was the second time an attempt had been made on Spock’s life. “Get your chief down here.” Looking back at his science officer, he feared that this time it might still be successful. Spock’s eyes were open, but dulled over, and shivers were beginning to course through the lean body. “Where the hell is McCoy?”

Just then the doors opened, and McCoy entered followed by two medics pushing a gurney.

“Out of the way, Jim.” McCoy instantly took charge, his instructions quick and concise. In no time, they had the Vulcan strapped onto the gurney, while the doctor set up a sterile field around the bleeding cranium.

“Is he going to be all right?” Kirk leaned over, trying to see what was going on as McCoy pumped hypo after hypo into Spock.

“I’m not sure, yet.” McCoy scanned his tricorder and frowned, “I’ve got to get him to sick-bay. I’ll let you know.” With a nod, he motioned the two techs forward.

Grimly, Kirk watched his science officer wheeled out and then turned to Giotto. The security chief had showed up and was now in command of the investigation. “Find anything else?”

“No, sir. Whoever did this covered his tracks pretty well.”

“I ordered two men posted to Mr. Spock. What happened?”

“Sir, Mr. Spock countermanded your order. He said it wasn’t necessary any longer, that the danger was over. I assumed that you were aware-”

“Damn that man!” Kirk fumed. He wasn’t sure who he was more mad at. Spock, for putting himself in danger, or himself for not anticipating it. “From now on, I want two men with him at all times. Is that understood? And they are not to be dismissed until I say so.” He sighed in exasperation. “Find out what you can and let me know. I’ll be in sickbay.”

Sickbay was quiet when Kirk entered. He walked to the back room where McCoy would be working on the Vulcan. Sure enough, the door was closed and the light above the door shone red. No admittance. He waited several minutes but then figuring it would probably be more like hours, Kirk decided to return to his cabin. McCoy would let him know as soon as there was anything to report. An unexpected flash of pain went through him as he thought about Spock, about the possibility of the Vulcan not making it. He could lose the man he had just begun to think of as a friend.

* * *