A Common Odyssey (K/S) Pt 1 of 5

[gilda_elise]

Title: A Common Odyssey
Fandom: Star Trek (TOS)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Notes: Kirk and Spock end up in a Romulan prison after the ship they are passengers on is taken by Orion slavers.

Originally published in First Time 57 by Merry Men Press (July 2003)






A Common Odyssey



The sleek ship sailed through the vacuum of space. Its passengers, a motley group of businessmen, tourists and young adventurers, relaxed as they journeyed to their various destinations.

The cabin was quiet, the lights dimmed. Most of the passengers had taken the opportunity to get some rest. Even the two young girls in the seats facing theirs had finally gotten over their awe at meeting the legendary Captain James Kirk of the USS Enterprise and his first officer, and had fallen asleep.

Spock leaned over and removed his comslate from the small valise under his seat. He reached up to turn on the overhead light, readjusting it to shine directly on his reading material. Next to him Kirk dozed, his seat slightly reclined. They had been in flight over twelve hours and the inactivity had begun to wear on his captain. Luckily, they would reach their destination in three point two hours. It was a unique experience, traveling as passengers. The commercial star cruiser was on its way to Arzor, a backwater planet known for its rustic atmosphere and rugged terrain.

Kirk had used all his quite formidable charm to coax Spock into agreeing to this trip. The human had grown rapturous about the clean air and sunshine, the wide open spaces, and the fun they would have braving the untamed wilderness. Spock almost smiled. Surely by now Kirk must know that Spock would follow him anywhere. But the joy that had lit his friend's face when he had agreed had made any inconvenience insignificant.

He turned to let his gaze rest on his captain. When had this man come to mean so much to him? He had tried to pinpoint the exact date and time, but to no avail. Kirk had insinuated himself into Spock's very existence, and now he could no longer imagine a life without him. He bit his lower lip. That was the problem, was it not? The human would never be his, not in the way Spock truly wanted. A sigh slipped past his controls as he returned to the perusal of the report he had brought along to read.

He had just turned the comslate off, his reading done, when the entire ship lurched, throwing the passengers forward.

Kirk was instantly awake. "What happened?" He sat up and looked around the cabin. The other passengers were in a state of confusion, anxiously muttering among themselves.

"I do not know," Spock replied, straining to hear anything that might give them an idea what the problem was. Minutes passed, and yet there was no sign of any crew member to give explanation.

"I don't like this a bit." Kirk began to unbuckle his seat belt. "I'm going to the bridge, find out what the hell happened."

"The captain may not appreciate your concern." Spock gently lay his hand on his friend's arm.

The human gave him a derisive grin. "What? A captain who thinks he knows how to run his own ship?" He leaned back. "Maybe you're right. I'll wait a little longer to see if they decide to tell us anything."

"Perhaps that would be best." Spock frowned. Some of the other passengers had gotten up and were milling around the door that led to the narrow passageway separating them from the ship's bridge. Several minutes passed. But when nothing else untoward happened, most of them settled down and returned to their seats.

"Must have been nothing." Kirk started to slouch back down when the door at the back of the cabin was thrown open and a band of men, all carrying weapons, rushed in.

"Okay, no one make a move and you'll all get out of here in one piece," a dark haired man announced. A full beard masked most of his face. The obvious leader, he walked down the aisle pointing his weapon at anyone who looked like they might be thinking of resisting. The eyes of the passengers followed him as he made his way to the front of the cabin. He then turned and slowly walked back. He stopped every now and then and pointed his weapon at a particular passenger.

Amid shouts of fear and confusion, his men started grabbing those selected and shoving them toward the exit. Their captors moved like a well-oiled machine. As one man carried off those chosen, another man would follow up and slip a metal bracelet through the armrest to snap to the wrist of those left behind. They were effectively tied to their seats.

"They're taking only young women and boys," Kirk whispered.

Spock studied the men. Orions looked very much like humans, but it was obvious that was who they were dealing with. If there was any chance of helping those being taken they would have to do something soon. Once gone, very few were ever saved and no ship had ever been retrieved. Those who through their own good fortune managed to escape their life of slavery, reported that attacked ships were always destroyed, leaving no witnesses.

He noticed one of the men looking at him and his captain. "Jim," he quietly voiced.

"I see him. I wonder what that's all about. We're both too old to be of any interest."

"Recognition?"

Kirk shrugged. "Maybe. Either that, or he thinks we might be trouble. He's right."

"Jim—"

"Don't worry, Spock. We'll wait until they leave the cabin, then try to make our way to the bridge."

The Orion leader approached them. They quieted as he checked them out, only to be passed by without a second look. The two girls seated across from them were not so lucky. With a signal from the leader, they were pulled from their seats by one very large Orion. Neither made a sound as they were dragged forward, but both resisted their captor. One scratched at the Orion, leaving a bloody trail on the man's face. It did no good. Seconds later, Spock found himself shackled to his captain.

The kidnapping continued.

"You think you can break these after they leave the cabin?" Kirk whispered as he watched the slavers slowly work their way to the back of the cabin.

Spock quietly tugged at the chain binding them to the armrest. "No."

Kirk turned to him angrily. "No? Just no?"

"Jim, it is made of the same material as the ship. It is designed to resist the rigors of space travel. It will not give to the mere pressure of a person's musculature, even a Vulcan's. I am sorry."

"There's got to be a way. Once they're out of here, they'll blow up the ship."

"We will not be allowed to leave this place." He turned to his captain and gave in to the realization that their time was coming to an end.

"You don't know that," Kirk vehemently whispered.

"Yes. I do. And so do you." He held his friend's gaze, allowing his sorrow and regret to show.

"No. We can't give up."

"Jim." Spock grabbed the human's hand shackled to his. In the background he could hear the slavers' leader extol his men to hurry, and the muffled cries of their prisoners as they were led out. But his world had narrowed down to the man sitting next to him. His captain's eyes had gone wide, anger and resignation battling. But he didn't look away.

Spock brought his free hand up to caress Kirk's cheek, to memorize every line with sight and touch. When his fingers gently slid over the human's lips, Kirk's breath shuddered and his eyes closed.

"I have loved you since the very beginning, since that day you came aboard to take command of the Enterprise, and of my heart. I will love you until the end of time." Spock leaned toward his friend and gently placed his lips against the human's mouth. He pulled slightly back and waited for a response. It came quickly. Kirk brought his hand up to cup the back of Spock's head and pulled him forward to lock their lips together once more.

The kiss was gentle but deep, and Spock poured everything he was into it, knowing that this was all he would ever have. A kiss to see him through eternity.

Finally Kirk pulled back to rest his forehead on Spock's shoulder. Spock couldn't tell if the tremors that passed through his friend's body were of sorrow or anger or the echoing chords of the unfulfilled passion they would never share.

The cabin had stilled, except for the quiet sobs of the doomed passengers. Their captors gone, it was as if they held their collective breaths as the seconds ticked away.

"Spock, I—" Kirk's words were interrupted when the cabin door flew open again and hit the wall. He looked up, tensing when the man who had been watching them earlier pointed them out to his leader.

The Orion leader strode over to the two men and removed the shackles. He stood back, his weapon aimed at them. "Come on, you two. Hurry."

They both rose, glancing at each other in shock before Kirk spoke. "What about the rest—"

"I said move." The Orion pushed him and Kirk almost fell as he struggled to catch himself. He glanced at Spock again. With a resigned shrug he telegraphed his acceptance and they started forward, the Orion right behind them.

Outside the cabin three more slavers stood waiting. The one who had been watching them earlier attached metal cuffs to their wrists. They were hurried out and loaded into the already cramped shuttle docked on the side of the ship. All the other passengers taken were shackled to rings that jutted out of the shuttle floor. The two girls knelt at the back, the more aggressive of the two sporting a bloody lip.

"On your knees." Their captor brandished his weapon at them as he motioned one of his men to approach.

They gingerly lowered themselves. There was little space to maneuver. The second slaver bent down and secured them to the floor facing each other.

The shuttle door was bolted closed and it slowly pulled away from the star liner. Through the side-port, Spock could make out the large, slightly battered slaver ship. They were alive, but for what purpose? "I do not understand," he whispered to Kirk.

"I think I do. They apparently know who we are. Probably think they can get some kind of ransom out of Starfleet." Kirk kept his voice low while trying to turn enough to see their destination.

"Starfleet will not pay to ransom us. They have a strict policy against dealing with slavers."

"You know that, and I know that, but obviously, they don't know that. It's the only thing keeping us alive." Kirk directed a smile at him that promised pleasures yet to come. "And I do so want to live, Mr. Spock."

Spock ducked his head. It would not do to let their captors see the joy that could not keep from registering on his face. "as do I," he said, his voice low.

The journey to the slaver ship took only minutes. Their shackles were released from the floor rings, and they were marched out under heavy guard into a large cargo hold. But while the other passengers were taken and forced into the cages that filled the area, Kirk and Spock were shoved forward toward the door leading to the rest of the ship.

They were escorted down a long corridor. The Orion leader walked in front of them, two armed guards in back. They stopped at the entrance to the captain's quarters. Their captor rang for entry and the door swished open.

Behind a large desk sat a Romulan of indistinguishable background. His outfit gave the appearance of a uniform, but there was no insignia of rank anywhere on it. He looked up and smiled, motioning the two men to take a seat.

Spock glanced at his captain. With a tight nod Kirk conveyed his consent, and took one of the chairs himself. Spock settled in next to him.

The Romulan continued to smile, appraising both of them. "So, the famous James T. Kirk and his shadow, the Vulcan, Spock."

Kirk smiled. "You have us at a disadvantage...?" He tilted his head in question.

"Rotha, late of the Imperial fleet, at your service." He bowed his head slightly, obviously enjoying the game.

"And to what do we owe the privilege of your...hospitality?" Kirk asked. He looked around the small cabin, his face conveying a mild disdain.

Rotha stood up and placed his hands on the desk, leaning forward to tower over the two men. "Perhaps you are not aware that there is a price on both your heads. A very large price. One I intend to collect."

Kirk rubbed at his chin, seeming to think over the Romulan's words. "I see. You know, the Federation might be willing to make a deal with you."

"Don't take me for a fool, Kirk. The Federation doesn't pay ransom for its people, especially Starfleet personnel. My government, on the other hand, would be most generous to anyone who handed over two state criminals of such notoriety.

"Rotha, surely you are aware that my family is one of great wealth and importance," Spock announced. "They would pay even more than your government for our safe return."

Rotha looked at Kirk. "Is he always so quick to ensure your well being, Captain?"

KIrk turned to look at Spock. "He's my first officer...and my friend. It's no more than I would do for him."

"How very noble. In any event, I'm not foolish enough to take the chance. If I were to take you up on your generous offer, and my government were to find out—no, it's best this way." Rotha stood and called out, "Jarro."

The swarthy Orion leader walked in, casually swinging a short baton. "Are you finished with them?"

"Yes. Put them in one of the regular cells."

"Up, you two." Jarro nudged Kirk with the baton, and the human stifled a protest. He glanced at Spock, the silent message clear. There were too many for them to stand any chance of escape. They would bide their time.

They had reached the doorway when Rotha spoke again. "Jarro, they must be alive for us to collect the bounty. Do I make myself clear?"

The Orion smiled. "Don't worry, Rotha. I won't hurt them...too much."

~~~~~

They were led into the bowels of the ship, past the engine room and down a narrow stairwell. The two Orion guards remained silent, but Jarro softly whistled as he led the way. The noise grated on Kirk's nerves.

A dark corridor met them at the bottom of the stairs. It was lined with metal doors, a small window set in the center of each. The first door was unlocked and a dank odor filtered out.

"In there, you two." The Orion unlocked Spock's shackles and shoved him forward, propelling him into the cell.

Kirk knew he shouldn't respond, that it was probably done on purpose and he was playing right into the Orion's hands. It didn't stop him. He turned and lunged at Jarro, getting his hands around the Orion's neck and squeezing his air off. He had scant seconds of satisfaction before he was grabbed by the other two guards and pulled away.

"You're going to pay for that," Jarro wheezed. He rubbed at his throat with a grin on his face. Suddenly his arm shot out as he buried the baton in Kirk's midsection.

With a strangled gasp Kirk fell to his knees, and desperately tried to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spock move forward, coming to his defense. But the Vulcan was stopped by the two guards and held back to helplessly watch as Jarro beat his captain almost senseless.

Kirk tried to stand up. But the blows continued to come and he found himself back on his knees. After one connected with the side of his face, he pulled himself into a fetal position and wrapped his arms over his head. It did little good. The Orion was working himself into a frenzy, the Romulan's warning forgotten.

He tried to crawl away, only to have the baton follow him. He was unable to stop the cry that broke from him as the weapon connected with his ribs. He almost screamed when his lower back was hit, the force of the blow sending waves of pain crashing through his body.

He could feel himself losing the battle for consciousness. The last thing he heard was Spock's cry of rage as darkness won out.

~~~~~

Kirk groaned as he came to. His entire body hurt. One of these days he'd learn to curb his reflexes. He tried sitting up, but was held down by the arm draped across his shoulders. It surrounded him without touching.

"Spock?" He opened his eyes to see his first officer's face hovering above him. He realized he was lying on some sort of cot, and that his head was pillowed on Spock's lap. He tried getting up again.

"Do not move, Jim." Spock kept his arm firmly in place. "You have several broken ribs."

Kirk relaxed, cautiously pressing a hand against his rib cage. Spock was right. Every breath brought a spasm of pain. He tried to keep his breathing shallow. His face was swollen, and he was having trouble seeing through the puffiness surrounding his right eye. "What about the liner?"

"Destroyed. I felt the shock wave when the slavers blew it up."

"And you? How are you doing?"

"I am....functional."

"No, you're not. Let me up." Kirk carefully leveled himself and pushed aside the blanket covering him. He went white. "He did a good job on me."

"Yes."

Kirk sighed, and then gasped in pain. He was in trouble now. Escape would be almost impossible...and he knew Spock was extremely upset with him. The Vulcan always clammed up when forced to deal with strong emotions. Kirk shook his head and looked around their small cell. There was the bunk they sat on and an ill-used commode in the corner. And that was all.

He turned back to his friend. At first appearance, Spock seemed okay. But there was something in the way he was holding himself. "What's wrong?" Kirk asked.

Spock stared at him for a moment before finally giving in. "My arm is broken."

"How did that happen?" Kirk slowly leaned over. Using his free hand, he tried to examine the arm without bringing pain.

Spock pulled slightly away but said nothing.

"What happened, Spock?" This time it was the captain asking.

"I...I attempted to distract Jarro from his attack on you—"

"And got a broken arm for your trouble. I'm sorry, Spock. Sometimes I just don't know when to quit."

"One of your more admirable qualities."

Kirk looked at his friend in surprise. "You think so, huh?"

Spock brought his hand up and gently touched Kirk's face, trying to keep away from the more damaged areas. "Yes, I do."

Kirk closed his eyes. "I love you. You know that, don't you?"

"I was under that impression, yes." Spock leaned forward and placed a kiss over first one eye then the other, before lightly pressing his lips to Kirk's mouth. After a few seconds he pulled away.

"Damn." Kirk opened his eyes but did not pull back. "It's going to have to wait now, isn't it? We can't afford to drop our guard long enough. But the first time we can, I'm going to show you just how much I do love you."

"I will look forward to that time." Spock straightened himself, and became the first officer once more. "How do you think we should proceed?"

Kirk easily fell back into the role of captain. "There's not much we can do right now." He tried to get comfortable, but any movement brought a protest from his body. "All we can hope for is that wherever they take us we'll have the opportunity to heal, then maybe find a way to escape." He studied his friend again. "Do you think you could go into a healing trance?"

"I would prefer to wait until such time as privacy would not be an issue."

"I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon." Kirk paused. "I wonder if they plan on feeding us. If they do, 'lights out' would probably be after that."

"Yes, I would need no more than three or four hours."

"Okay, let's wait until then." Kirk lay down again, his head away from Spock. "Come on. If you lie on your side, there's room for both of us."

Spock gingerly crawled over, fitting himself between Kirk and the wall. He awkwardly spread the thin blanket over both of them and then lay down. He pushed his good arm under Kirk's neck so that Kirk could pillow his head on it.

Kirk closed his eyes, glad for the warmth of his friend's body.

~~~~~

The meal they brought them was almost fit to eat. It wouldn't have mattered in any event, because eating was painful. Any movement brought stabs of pain around his chest, and Kirk held on to his ribcage while swallowing the little amount he felt he could handle. As soon as the food had been delivered Spock had gone into a healing trance, leaving Kirk to sit alone.

He squirmed slightly, and tried to find a more comfortable position without disturbing the Vulcan. He had planned to sit on the floor, allowing Spock the cot, but his friend had been adamant. The only way he would enter the trance was with Kirk firmly ensconced at the foot of the bed. Kirk had given in, partly because he wanted the Vulcan healed, but also because he didn't think he could have tolerated the hard floor anyway. Breathing was becoming more difficult. The muscles of his chest spasmed as they tried to compensate for the broken ribs. Spock would need both arms to bind them with whatever clothing they could possibly spare.

Trying to take his mind off the pain, he studied his friend's serene face. The lines of worry were smoothed over. Spock looked younger in repose. The welling of emotion stunned Kirk with its intensity. He loved this man. And now he knew Spock loved him, too. He idly wondered how long it might have taken them to finally admit what they felt for each other if this hadn't happened.

The last few days before their capture had been some of the best of Kirk's life. As they had traveled from starship, to spaceport, to space liner, the bonds of their friendship and affection for one another had woven a cocoon of intimacy about them. But never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined this outcome. Spock was in love with him, returning all the affection and desire that had resided in his own heart for longer than he cared to admit. Now all they had to do was find a way out of this mess, so they could get on with spending the rest of their lives together.

A slight movement from Spock pulled him from his musings and he scooted off the cot and hesitantly moved to sit at the Vulcan's side. It was time. He could see the effort on his friend's face as Spock tried to resurface from the trance. Girding himself, Kirk grabbed Spock's arm and pulled him to a seated position.

Kirk gasped in pain, as agony ripped through his chest. He had to do this. He had to put aside his own pain if there was any chance of helping Spock. His jaw clasped rigidly shut, he pulled his other arm back and swung it forward to connect with the Vulcan's face. He hit him over and over in blind desperation.

Motes of light danced in front of his face as his chest constricted with every movement. Please, Spock. Wake up. Wake up, now. It was taking so long. Maybe he wasn't striking hard enough. But Kirk couldn't manage anymore, and was in fact losing strength as the pain shot through him with every contact of his hand on Spock's face. When a hand finally reached out and grabbed his own, he cried out. The sudden halt sent shards of torment through his body. As the blackness took him, he heard his friend call his name.

~~~~~

"Hold still. I have almost finished."

"I can't, it hurts." Kirk sucked in his breath as Spock's arms went around him once more. But as painful as it was each time the Vulcan readjusted the makeshift bandages, he had to admit that his muscles weren't spasming as badly, that the agony that had held him in a viselike grip for the last two days had finally calmed down to a dull throb.

He didn't know how long he had been out. Spock had only muttered something about it being long enough. The pain had pulled him into consciousness, and he hadn't imagined that breathing could be something he ever would have thought of foregoing. But lying there, desperately trying to still the torture by holding his ribcage tight, it had seemed a viable alternative. Somehow Spock had managed to work off Kirk's tunic and undershirt, pushing his arms aside as Kirk struggled against his unwilling tormentor. Spock had removed his own undershirt and torn both shirts into strips to bind the broken ribs.

Tears of pain leaked from eyes squeezed tight by the agony produced by the first binding. Kirk had been visibly shaking by the time Spock redressed him and settled him back on the cot. Thankfully, each time had hurt a little less.

Now, almost forty-eight hours later, the healing process had begun. Spock gave a last tug and tied off the strip. He stepped back and surveyed his work. "The bandages must be kept securely tied if they are to provide the added support you will need until your ribs mend."

Kirk lowered his arms, testing the bandages by taking a deep breath. He felt a twinge, but that was all. He smiled at his friend. "It seems to be working."

They sat on the single cot, leaning against the cold wall. Their jailers hadn't been back, and Kirk was beginning to wonder if they had been forgotten. He rubbed at his still sore chest, while his stomach made its own protest.

"It's been almost two days. I wonder how long before we get wherever it is we're going." He looked at his science officer.

"Unknown, since we do not know where, in fact, that is."

"Wherever it is, I hope it's soon. I'm hungry, and the food's got to be better than here."

Spock gave him an amused look. "I would not care to quote the odds on that."

Kirk grinned. No matter where they were, somehow they always managed to make it better for one another. "We were quite a ways from Romulus, so I'm hoping they drop us off at one of the outer planets, some backwater settlement where the post commander won't have the men, or the inclination, to watch us properly."

"That is a possibility. I do not believe we are of such import that the Praetor himself would wish to see to us."

"It's the only way we stand a chance of getting back to the Federation. Starfleet won't—"

"We have dropped out of warp." Spock grabbed hold of Kirk's arm, helping him up. They edged over to the door as sounds of footsteps reverberated through the outside corridor.

"Open the door." Rotha stood on the other side, a phaser pointed at the two men as they edged out of the cell. Their hands were re-shackled. Two Orions flanked the Romulan as he motioned Kirk and Spock forward. "This way."

Kirk threw a glance at his first officer and with a shrug started down the corridor, the Vulcan swiftly at his side. In the transporter room, two more Romulans stood at attention. They were dressed in some sort of uniform and had apparently been waiting for them. The two guards from the ship stepped back, and allowed the new Romulans to take their places as the prisoners were shoved onto the transporter pad. With Rotha and the two unknown Romulans, they beamed down to whatever planet rotated beneath them.

They materialized in front of an imposing edifice of stone. High walls blocked any view of what was within. The front entry was ominously shut, featureless but for the small screen in its center. Rotha placed his palm against the screen. With a silence that was somewhat unnerving the doors gave way, opening to a small courtyard. A metal fence at the other end separated the area from the rest of the compound. On each side, doors equally spaced lined the walls. Rotha turned and swept his arm in front of him. "Your new home."

They walked in and Rotha escorted them into a large office to the left.

It didn't look like any prison Kirk had ever imagined. The office was lavishly decorated. Ornate paneling lined the walls. The floor they stepped onto blazed with a star map of the Empire, a mosaic of white, yellow and red stars against a backdrop of deepest black.

But the Romulan who sat behind the huge desk was dressed in the same plain uniform as the guards. He looked up, mild surprise registering. "I had not expected it to be you, Rotha. What brings you to our little outpost?"

Rotha laughed. "Your new prisoners, Traccus. You've been given the honor of housing two of the Empire's greatest criminals." He stepped aside, showing off his prizes. "Captain James Kirk, of the Federation starship, Enterprise, and his first officer, Spock of Vulcan."

Traccus stood up and came around to inspect the new prisoners. He stood in front of Kirk. He placed the handle of the whip he affected under Kirk's chin and lifted his head. "This one will not last long. He will be someone's bed boy within days."

Kirk pulled back, but was stopped by one of the guard's well-placed fists to his side. He went down, falling to his knees as he tried to bite back the cry that threatened to escape. Spock was immediately at his side, the Vulcan's shackled hands there to help him up.

"I'm all right," he gasped, and rose to face his new jailer.

"He has spirit, I'll say that for him." Traccus turned to Spock. "If he is your friend, keep him close. He's small and fair, and a human to boot. I don't allow my prisoners to brutalize each other, but I won't interfere if one of them tries to claim him." He shrugged. "That's the way of all prisons. I'd have a riot on my hands if I tried to change it."

Spock nodded and stepped closer to Kirk. "I understand."

Traccus gave him a quick nod, and then motioned the guards to take them out. He had started back to his seat when Kirk called to him.

"What about our trial? If we're criminals, what was our crime?" He tried pulling away from the guard that had grabbed him, but was held fast.

Traccus laughed and stepped forward. "Trial? Kirk, your trial was years ago. Right after you stole the cloaking device. Don't you remember? Be thankful that the Praetor has decided to be merciful. You are not to be executed for your crimes." He shook his head, and turned back to his chair. "Take them to their cell."

Kirk considered continuing to resist, but after a warning look from Spock decided discretion was the better part of valor and allowed himself to be led away. Outside, they were directed through the barred gates at the end of the entryway.

The area on the other side was a vast complex of buildings. Around the perimeter, guards could be seen walking the high walls. In the middle of the large central area stood a tower, two guards stationed in the small room at its top. But cellblocks dominated the enclosure and they were led to one of them near the back. The entrance in front was unlocked to reveal a long corridor. Each side of the hall was lined with metal doors, behind each door a cell.

The cells were completely enclosed, but for a small glass windows in the doors at eye-level. A narrow slot about halfway up spouted a small shelf along its bottom edge and locked shut with a lid. They continued almost to the end of the hallway. They were ordered to stop, and one of the guards opened a cell door.

Once inside, the door was slammed shut and the bolt fell into place with a loud clang. They looked at each other, and then around at their new home.

"It's not as small as I thought it'd be." Kirk tried to pace off the room.

"Approximately twelve by twelve feet. Quite spacious, considering," Spock responded.

"Considering it's a cell." Kirk shook his head, and sat on one of the bunks attached to the wall. There were two.

Making an ell in the corner to the right of the door, the bunks were effectively hidden from outside view. A small commode took the next corner, while a small table and four seats, bolted to the floor catty-corner to the bunks, took up the remaining area. A set of shelves was placed against the wall on one side of the table. On the other, directly across from the door, a window at least seven feet off the floor allowed what little daylight still remained to enter the room. The sun was just beginning to set.

Spock walked to the window and tried to lift himself up, his fingers gripping the narrow ledge. It was no good. There wasn't enough room to get a good purchase.

"Come sit down, Spock. We're not going anywhere at the moment." Kirk patted the spot next to him.

Spock looked once more at the window, and then turned to obey his captain. He sat next to Kirk, deliberately close.

"I'm safe in here, you know," Kirk teased.

"It is not amusing. You will be in constant danger when we are away from the cell."

Kirk shrugged. "There's nothing we can do about it right now. You'll think of something. You always do." He looked across the room. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Four chairs. Four prisoners. Perhaps our cell is not quite as spacious as I first assumed."

"Yeah. We could have guests." Kirk looked down at the bed they sat on. "No wonder they're so wide. Two to a bed. Lovely."

Spock eyed the wall above the other bunk. "It looks as if there was once an additional bunk above these two. Perhaps it is our jailer's way of precipitating matters in regard to the prisoners becoming coupled. It would keep discontent to a minimum."

Kirk laughed. "He'll get no argument here." He twisted around a bit, trying to get comfortable. Even bandaged, his ribs tended to give him trouble.

"Do you wish me to retighten the bandages?" Spock asked.

"No, they're fine." A slight noise drew his attention. He leaned forward to look around Spock. The slot in the door was open, and a tray with two bowls slid through.

Spock got up and proceeded to the door. He picked up the tray, and with a nod to Kirk walked over and took a seat at the table.

Sliding in across from his friend, Kirk took one of the bowls and the utensil accompanying it. He eyed the almost totally flat stick of metal, a shallow bowl at one end the only clue as to its use. "A spoon."

"Evidently." Spock examined the contents of his bowl and sniffed it gingerly. An eyebrow rose in surprise. "Vegetarian."

Kirk dipped his spoon into the stew-like concoction and brought it to his mouth. He eyed it warily before quickly taking it in. A look of surprise passed over his face. "It's not bad. Not bad at all."

The food turned out to be not only palatable, but filling. Kirk tried not to eat it too fast. It had been two days since his last real meal and the last thing he needed was to have to vomit. Just the thought of what that would do to his ribs was enough to keep his intake slow and easy.

They were almost finished with their meal when the overhead light went on, then off, then on again.

"Now what?" Kirk groused.

"It may be some type of general signal. Or perhaps it is only to compensate for the loss of natural light." Spock looked up at the window.

"Maybe. I wonder how long they stay on." Kirk scooped out the last of his food, relishing the taste.

"Not long I would think. What little I know of prison life would lead me to believe that 'lights out' comes somewhat early." Spock gathered up their trays. He gave Kirk a long-suffering look until his captain handed over his bowl, and returned them to the shelved slot. Seconds later the tray disappeared and the slot firmly closed. Spock tried to look out, but all he could see was the door across from theirs. If the cell was occupied, there was no sign. And there had been no tray on the shelf. "Perhaps we will have the cell to ourselves for the present, at least."

"Why's that?" Kirk got up and joined Spock at the door.

"The cell across from us appears to be unoccupied. If the prison is not, in fact, filled..."

"Maybe we lucked out. So far, this doesn't seem to be that bad a place." He scanned the outer corridor before returning to his seat. "I've been thinking..."

Spock gave him a questioning look as he sat across from him.

"What if this place is more for political prisoners, dissidents, nonviolent offenders?"

"It would be logical. The Romulans can be ruthless, but they have never struck me as being unintelligent. It would serve no purpose to expose those whose only crime was one of dissent, with those who could teach them skills to further their agenda."

"That being the case, it might be easier to get out of here than we thought. I don't know what planet we're on, but there must be somewhere around here we could hide out until help arrived."

"It could prove difficult, Captain. Even if we were to escape, we do not know if the area has the requirements needed to sustain life. A drinkable water supply, food, access to shelter—"

"I get the point, Spock. But if there's a spaceport around here..."

They continued their conversation, making and discarding plans until the light above them flickered and went out. The room fell into darkness that was relieved only by the diffuse light that shone through the window.

"Time for bed." Kirk got up and moved over to the bunks. He undressed, and placed his clothes across one of the beds. He pulled down the cover on the other one and climbed in.

Spock walked over and stood next to the bunk. He looked quizzically at him. "Captain?"

Kirk smiled. "We might as well get used to sleeping together, Spock. You never know when we might be assigned roommates." He lifted the cover in invitation.

With a slight nod Spock assented and removed his clothes. He slid in next to his friend. The bunk, wide when occupied by one, was somewhat narrow for two. They lay in the dark, shoulders and hips pressed against each other, silence stretching between them.

Finally, Kirk spoke. "It's your move, Spock. These ribs aren't going to let me maneuver around too much."

"I do not wish to hurt you." Spock voice was a warm whisper in the dark.

"Come here, my friend." Kirk raised his arm and gently tugged at the Vulcan's shoulder until Spock rose up on an elbow and turned toward him. He moved his hand to the back of Spock's head and gently pulled his friend down. The hotter than human lips settled on his own.

At first, all there was was the kiss, slowly deepening as their mouths opened to admit the other. Kirk sucked at Spock's tongue, encouraging the Vulcan to plunder his mouth, to wrap his hand around Kirk's head and hold him close, the long Vulcan fingers carding through his hair.

Slowly, so slowly, to prolong the anticipation and draw out the triumph of this first time, Kirk began to chart Spock's body. He sought out all the hidden places he was finally to know. His hands skimmed through the fine gloss of dark hair on Spock's chest, following it down until his fingers could curl around the engorged cock that throbbed between the Vulcan's legs.

With a moan, Spock pulled back and dropped his head on Kirk's chest. He panted softly, and his body took up a rhythm as he thrust himself into Kirk's hand.

"Do you like that, love?" Kirk whispered. His other hand worked around to lay across Spock's ass and gently urged on the pistoning hips.

Spock didn't seem able to do more than silently mouth Kirk's name as his shaft was brought to heavy fullness. His head lifted as his breath quickened, his release drawing near.

Kirk looked down between their bodies, watching as the Vulcan's cock slid between his manipulating fingers. It was like holding fire, the hard shaft a demanding flame. It was driving him crazy, seeing his staid first officer turn into this wanton creature. Spock's head was thrown back, his mouth open as he heaved in breath and moaned out his lover's name.

Kirk shifted slightly and pressed his cock against Spock's leg. He knew he couldn't take much more. He was going to come, just from watching Spock. Just from having the hard, lean body moving above his consumed in a maelstrom of sexual desire, and knowing that he was doing this to Spock. Finally, with an almost silent keen, the Vulcan came, his semen pulsing out over Kirk's hand, his body convulsing in ecstatic release.

Bonelessly, the Vulcan's heavy weight fell off to Kirk's side. Kirk drew him close and pulled his hand out from under Spock's body. He brought it up and licked at the emissions that slid through his fingers. He had never tasted another man. It startled him to realize that he craved the taste, that it could easily become an addiction he couldn't control. He laughed to himself. Who was he kidding? The shaking Vulcan in his arm already was an addiction, one he had no intentions of ever losing.

"Are you all right?" Kirk whispered into the pointed ear.

Spock nodded, and then slowly turned to lie against Kirk's side. He lightly rested his head on Kirk's shoulder. "I have never felt anything such as this," he spoke with a touch of awe in his voice. "These feelings you engender in me...I was not aware of their depth until this moment."

"I'm glad. Because I'm not letting you get away, Spock. You're stuck with me."

The Vulcan lifted his head, a small smile lighting his face. "I will always be yours. I have from the first."

"The first?"

"Since the day you first entered my life. I did not know what it was that passed between us that day. I did not have the experience to draw upon in order to understand. But I knew that it had changed my life, and that I would never willingly leave your side."

"Oh, Spock." Kirk pulled the Vulcan against him, pressing a kiss against the dark strands that lay against his chest. He thought his lover had fallen asleep, until he felt the hot tongue slide along his collarbone, nipping at the skin exposed above the bandages.

Silently, Spock worked his way down the compact body, until his head rested on his lover's stomach, the aching penis inches away. His mouth almost watered as he contemplated the rigid shaft. He lightly touched it with his tongue, lapping at it when he heard the hiss of shock from the human. He continued his study, working his tongue over and around the pulsing organ, learning what Kirk liked as the human's soft cries grew more insistent, the sturdy fingers burying themselves in Spock's hair, urging him on.

He came up on his elbows, and lifted Kirk's hips by wrapping an arm around the human's hips. His other hand fondled the lush buttocks as his mouth descended on the engorged penis.

"Oh, love, yes." Kirk's hips jerked, driving the human's cock deeper into Spock's mouth.

The feel of the human's penis in his mouth and the firm flesh in his hands was making Spock hard again. He sucked harder, bringing more cries from his lover. He fondled Kirk's testicles, hard and tight against the human's body, and then dipped his hand down to lightly skim his fingers against Kirk's anus.

"Oh, god, Spock." Kirk squirmed in his arms. The human's movements grew wilder. "Yes, there. Touch me there."

Spock gently pushed his finger into the welcoming orifice and let the heated wetness pull the digit in. He began to slide it in and out, taking up the rhythm of the shaft driving in and out of his mouth.

His universe centered on the man in his arms, the heavy organ that seemed to fill more than his mouth. A fire was spreading, taking him over. He fell willingly into it, almost devouring his lover as he sucked the human's penis and buried his fingers in the snug channel of Kirk's anus.

Kirk's heels dug into the bed, and with a muffled cry lost himself in orgasm. His seed pumped into Spock's mouth who greedily swallowed it. Spock's mind opened up and reached out to pull Kirk's to his. He froze as the human's orgasm flooded his consciousness, bringing on his own. He heard Kirk cry out again, but he could only hold on, while Kirk's penis softened in his mouth and the rush of sensations slowly died away.

"What the hell was that?" Kirk's breathing was still ragged.

Spock released the spent organ, and pulled himself back up to his lover's side. He slipped an arm under Kirk's head and took the human in a loose embrace. "I was unable to control. Our link was re-enforced by our coupling and has grown."

Kirk laughed shakily. "Into what?"

"A bonding link," Spock answered warily.

"Don't act so worried. It isn't something I didn't want."

Spock relaxed noticeably. "I am pleased to hear that. I, too, wish this between us."

"Well, there you go. Besides, doesn't this effectively deal with our other problem?"

"Which problem is that?"

"About the other inmates trying to stake their claim on me."

Spock thought about it a moment, and then nodded. "I believe you are correct. Though not true telepaths, Romulans retain a vestige of their Vulcan ancestors' 'sensitivity'. They will consider you off-limits, though be unaware why."

"Good. I wasn't looking forward to having to constantly and literally watch my ass." Kirk grabbed at the blankets pushed against the wall and attempted to clean himself.

"Allow me." Spock finished cleaning Kirk and then wiped himself down. He got up and grabbed a blanket from the other bunk. He spread the clean cover over his bed mate and crawled back in to resume his former position. Tipping Kirk's face up to his, he placed his lips against his lover's. Their kiss was gentle, a sweet goodnight.

~~~~~

They were roused the next morning by a loud bang on the cell door. The room was still dark, a vague light barely discernible in the window above. They untangled themselves from each other and quickly dressed. Kirk was sitting on the bunk, Spock on his knees helping his captain with his shoes when their cell door was thrown open.

"You two, come with me." A middle-aged Romulan stood outside the door, a stun gun securely in his hand. The look of disgust on the guard's face when he look at him was not lost on Kirk. The man motioned them out and then led them to a small building off by itself. A young Romulan sat behind a counter, half asleep.

"Wake up, Tal. You've got two new prisoners to process."

The younger man stretched, scratching himself as he walked to the counter to mentally measure the two prisoners. He seemed especially intrigued by Spock, but after a moment apparently lost interest. "All right, get them cleaned up. I'll take their gear in to them in a minute."

"This way." The older guard brusquely nodded his head toward the back.

They walked through a large room filled with benches bolted to the floor and spaced several feet apart. It reminded Spock of the locker-rooms at Starfleet Academy. At the back was a wall comprised mostly of a glasslike blocks. On the other side was a shower area.

"Strip and get in there," the older man ordered.

Kirk grimaced and began to undress. Spock noted with trepidation that the guard had taken an almost instant dislike to his captain. It did not bode well for their future.

"Those, too," the guard barked at Kirk. The human had removed everything but the bandages around his chest.

Kirk stilled for a moment and gazed intently at the guard. Spock thought there might be trouble, but then Kirk slowly began to unwind the strips of cloth protecting his ribs. There was still a great deal of bruising, and a grin spread across the guard's face.

"Been causing trouble, huh? Well, not here, you won't. First time you make trouble will be your last."

"Leave them alone, Hoben." The younger guard came in and deposited two bundles of clothing on one of the benches nearest the shower room.

"Don't tell me my job. Humans are trouble. I'm making sure this one knows the rules."

"I'm sure he does. Don't you?" Tal turned to Kirk.

"Sure. Sure I do." He watched with dismay as the young guard began picking up their discarded clothing. "What's going to happen to our clothes?"

"These?" Tal looked at the bundle he held. "They'll be burned."

"What about the bandages? Can't I keep them?"

"I don't see why not." He started to place them with their fresh clothing when Hoben stepped forward.

"No, it's against the rules. Everything is to be burned." He grabbed the bandages. "No exceptions."

Tal looked at Kirk with sympathy. "I'm sorry. He's right, though. Maybe we can get you something later."

Kirk nodded, and joined Spock as they were ushered into the shower room. The door was closed behind them as a stinging cold spray was released. It had a chemical smell that was overpowering.

Spock tried to control his breathing and hoped the dousing would soon stop. He could see the strain on Kirk's face as the human tried not to cough. He quickly went to his captain and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. "I will hold you. Allow yourself to cough."

Kirk did, until tears were running down his face. In the large steamy expanse, the sound of his coughing reverberated off the walls, competing with the water as it sprayed out to splash against the cement. It was like being lost in a poisonous vapor. The human's fight for breath was the only thing Spock could perceive, the only thing that mattered. Finally the water slowed to a trickle, then stopped altogether, and the air cleared. Spock continued to hold his captain, afraid of the damage that might have been done. After a moment, Kirk unclenched his hands. He had instinctively grabbed hold of Spock as he fought for breath.

"I think I'm all right now." He slowly straightened, his body rigid.

"Jim—"

"No, Spock. Let it go. I don't want any trouble."

The door opened and they walked out. Each was handed a towel to dry off with and then ordered to dress in the prison garb issued to them. The material was harsh but clean. The pants tied at the waist, the oversized tunics falling to hip length. The shoes provided were utilitarian, slip-ons made of some artificial material except for the thick leather that covered the soles.

Hoben stood to the side and watched them both with ill-disguised malice. His gaze seemed to linger on Kirk, eyes narrowing in thought.

Tal returned from discarding their old clothes. "I'll show them the commissary and finish getting them situated."

Hoben only grunted and turned to leave, but not before giving Kirk a passing glare.

"He doesn't like me, does he?" Kirk asked.

"Hoben lost his father in the war with humans," Tal said as he motioned them to follow him out.

"That was over a hundred years ago."

"Maybe in Terran years. We live longer than you do." Tal shrugged. "In any event, Hoben has hated humans all his life. I've worked with him for two years now, and I've never heard anything but pure hate on his part when it comes to your kind. So if you have any sense, you'll stay out of his way. If you need anything, ask me. Don't do anything that might call attention to yourself."

"Your superior implied that mistreatment of the prisoners would not be allowed," Spock responded, his worry increasing.

"Well, there's mistreatment, and there's mistreatment. Hoben can't do anything to you for no reason. But given a reason, one Traccus could agree with, he could do just about whatever he wanted."

They followed the young guard out, and were taken to a squat building located near the center of the compound. Tal led them in and pointed to the line of men already in place along one wall. "That's the mess line. Meals are served three times a day, first come, first serve. Your cell doors will automatically open right before breakfast. There's a general signal for the other two meals."

"What about after we eat?" Kirk watched the men slowly work their way through the food line and come away with their meal.

"Today you're free to do what you want. Your cell door will remain unlocked during the day, but following your last meal you must go back to your cell. Tomorrow," Tal pointed to a large bulletin board set off to one side, "you'll find your work schedule for the next ten days. Follow it."

The two men waited for the young guard to walk away before moving to get in line for breakfast.

"Tal. Why does that name sound familiar?" Kirk mused.

"The sub-commander aboard the Romulan ship where we acquired the cloaking device," Spock answered.

"That's right. No relation, I hope." Kirk moved forward as the line shortened.

"I would think not. Perhaps it is merely a common name." Spock surveyed the room. There seemed to be somewhere around two hundred prisoners and the room was still filling up.

They finally got their food, and found some empty seats at the end of a long table. No one sat nearby.

"What do you think we should do with ourselves today?" Kirk chewed on the flat bread he had chosen to go with the porridge-like fare. He absent-mindedly rubbed at his chest as he talked.

"I would think find something with which to rewrap your ribs."

"They're not really bothering me much anymore."

"You have not had to work strenuously. Unwrapped, any continued use, especially while doing any type of physical labor, is bound to aggravate them."

"Damn. That means running, too. We'll have to figure out something. I'm not waiting the four to six weeks it's going to take them to completely heal to try and get us out of here."

"Jim, will not the Federation look into our release? As a trade of some sort?"

"They would if they thought we were still alive. But with the liner blown up, as far as the Federation is concerned, we're both dead."

~~~~~

McCoy sat at his desk in sickbay. His terminal screen was the only light in the darkened room. He brought his hand up and took another drink of whiskey, emptying the glass. Without conscious thought, he uncorked the bottle and refilled it. His hands were unsteady, and he spilled a bit on the desk.

The door opened and he looked up to see the Enterprise's chief engineer, a bottle of his own tucked within his folded arms. "I thought ye might do with some company, Doctor. Drink a few to the lads."

"Sure, more the merrier," he slurred.

The Scot took the seat across from McCoy and placed his own bottle next to the doctor's. "I see ye started without me."

"Sorry." McCoy pressed the glass against his forehead. "I just couldn't handle it sober...not yet."

"Tis hard to imagine. Them not coming back. It won't seem the same without them, those two running the ship as if it was what they had been made for."

"I just can't believe it, Scotty. Not those two. They both cheated death so many times, pulled each other's asses out of the fire more times than I could count. It doesn't seem possible." He took another drink and turned to the message on the terminal. After reading it so many times, he still expected it to say something other than it did. Captain James Kirk and Spock of Vulcan, lost with the rest of the passengers of the ill-fated liner.

"At least it was quick and they were together. I canna imagine how it would have been had only one of them been taken. The other would na have survived long. They were too much a part o' one another."

"More than you know, Scotty." McCoy put his drink down and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to keep the sob inside that was threatening to tear loose. Not a week before he and Kirk had sat right at this desk and shared a drink to see the captain off on his upcoming shore leave.

The younger man had been so excited, his happiness at the thought of spending so much time in the presence of his first officer blatantly obvious.

"It's going to be just the two of us, Bones, miles from civilization. Spock won't be able to bury himself in a report or experiment. He's going to have to have a good time," Kirk had gleefully pronounced.

"Don't expect miracles, Jim." McCoy had warned. "Just because that overgrown elf has agreed to go with you, doesn't mean he won't find a way to sneak some time to do the things he finds so 'fascinating.'"

"Oh, I know. I wouldn't want him to give up on what he likes to do. I just know that away from the ship and our responsibilities, Spock is bound to loosen up."

McCoy had smiled. "You're probably right. It's not as if there isn't anything your Vulcan shadow wouldn't do for you."

Kirk had blushed and given him the oddest look. McCoy would never know, but he had the strangest impression that Jim had planned on there being more going on than hiking on this trip. Maybe a bit of exploring....the kind two people did with each other when they were ready to go to the next level of a relationship. If that was the case, he had no doubt that Spock would have followed Kirk there, too. McCoy had never had any illusions about the level of affection the Vulcan held for his captain and friend.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting tears that were returning with a vengeance. They were both gone, and if they had been about to step into that gossamer world of love and desire, then fate had been doubly cruel.

The battle lost, McCoy blindly reached out his other hand, knowing that Scotty would be there. He held on to his friend's hand for dear life, and let the onslaught come.


~~~~~

Continue to part 2.