Chosen Brother
Part Three
The ballad Spock played on his lyre was an ancient one. It told of the sacrifices made by the warrior Sendel for his t'hy'la Sivan. It was an inspiring tale; its meaning Spock had never understood until recently. Sendel had gone into battle against the goddess T'Kava, the evil one, to save Sivan's life. His mentor, the goddess T'Lira, had given him shields of power to protect himself but to save Sivan he had been forced to lower them, exposing his mind to the worst torments a telepath could suffer. He had placed his friend's welfare above his own and had almost died, the torture he has endured....
Spock... The cry of anguish reverberated through his mind, and his lyre fell from his nerveless fingers.
He was in the corridor when the second cry jarred him and, quickening his pace, he ran to the turbo-lift. He tried to stifle the terror - both his own and Kirk's - that tore him inside. Those distress calls had held all the horror of a living nightmare. He trembled with the shock.
Jim, I am on my way, he tried to transmit as he waited for the lift to arrive. He slammed his fist into the bulkhead as the seconds passed. He counted them. Never had time moved so slowly. Illogical, he chastised himself.
At last, the doors opened and he dived inside. "Deck two," he ordered, certain where Jim was. "Faster," he urged, despite knowing that the lift mechanism would not understand the command. He leaned back against the wall, trying to garner his strength, when the third plea for help almost prostrated him with its intensity.
The doors opened, and Spock sped down the corridor, scattering bewildered crew but unaware of them in his focussed intent to reach his captain. He reached the closed doors of their passenger's quarters, and did not hesitate to use the emergency over-ride code. The doors hissed open and the scene that met his horrified eyes shocked him. Gary Mitchell was standing over a prone Kirk, aiming vicious kicks to the other man's naked body.
Despite his own fear and nausea, and without a thought for his own safety, Spock launched himself at Mitchell and forced him away from Kirk. A hard punch knocked him back but, ignoring the pain, he grabbed Mitchell - who was stronger than any human Spock had ever encountered - twisted him around and applied the nerve pinch. Spock had never known this to fail but it did this time. Now Spock was convinced that whatever he fought, it was not human, and certainly not Mitchell returned from the dead.
A tenuous psi touch grazed his mind. At once, Spock lowered his surface barriers and tried to make contact. Mitchell struggled to break free of him but Spock increased the pressure on the other's body. Everything fell into place as the discomfort he felt when with Lady Sara manifested itself. He did not know what kind of entity he battled, he only knew it was not Mitchell nor was it Sara but an alien shape-shifter of some kind.
As telepathic images flicked through his mind, Spock realised the torment his captain had endured at this creature's hands. It had, like some succubus of ancient Terran legend, drawn on the human, sapping his will and strength. Then when Kirk had still managed to resist its demands, it had changed both shape and tactics.
You will desist. You have lost, he sent the silent message.
It struggled violently as Spock's physical and mental powers began to weaken it. Spock maintained his hold, not daring to look at the crumpled figure lying at his feet. He would keep the pressure on the alien until it surrendered.
The human form he was holding shimmered and changed. Spock held onto his nerve as his mother now struggled in his arms. For one moment, he had almost let go but reason prevailed. Lady Amanda was safe on Vulcan. This was illusion. The creature spoke in his mother's voice. "Spock, my darling, my son. Let me go." She looked up at him with her expressive human eyes full of love.
Spock kept a firm rein on his filial feelings. "You are not Amanda," he said.
The imaged wavered, changed, and Sarek's form solidified. My son, release me and I shall forgive you, he said, in Spock's mind.
Spock's heart leaped with joy. To have his father's forgiveness after all these years... His logical, rational mind dismissed the momentary hope. "You are not my father," he stated.
Sarek's body dissolved and re-shaped into the child T'Pring. Her small body wriggled to break free. "Parted from me and never parted," the child said. "I await thee."
"You are not T'Pring. Reveal your true self," Spock demanded.
T'Pring grew, her features became fluid and changed, her body now transforming into Kirk's. "Spock, let go of me. That's an order," Kirk's voice ordered.
"No. You are not my captain," Spock replied.
"Spock, my t'hy'la, my brother. I have and always shall be your friend," it tried, in Kirk's sincere tone.
Fury, at this creature who mimicked and ridiculed all the Spock valued, strengthened his resolve to defeat it. Concentrating on his psi power, he drew on the untapped force of the Vulcan warrior that lay deep in the pathways of his brain. Embracing it, he threw it - like a phaser blast - through the alien's mind.
The Kirk-form wavered as the almost killing force from the Vulcan sapped the shapes-shifter's strength. It cried out in pain, slumped and slowly returned to its natural state; gratefully it sank, unconscious, into the long-awaited normality of its true self. A thin, gelatinous being, vaguely humanoid, with a narrow, pointed face and straggly, string-like hair hung limply in Spock's arms. Certain that it was now harmless, Spock lowered it to the ground and turned his attention to his captain.
First he called McCoy to the cabin, then he turned Kirk over and was relieved to see him still conscious, though there was a shocked but lucid expression in his eyes. Blood oozed from several cuts, bruises darkened his skin, and Spock could sense his pain. "I am here, Jim. All will be well." He touched the prone man's forehead, sending healing to him.
Kirk's eyes acknowledged his words and actions but he didn't speak. The shock of Gary's attack had been too much to bear. He closed his eyes and allowed Spock to help him but his shivering would not stop even when a warm cover was wrapped about him and a pillow placed under his head. After a short time, he became vaguely aware of movement around him and an increased warmth on his face. He submitted to it, knowing that Spock was taking him out of himself to that safe haven where his guilt and pain would be eased.
Spock, he began, reaching out for the other, but catching himself he jerked away. He was not going to burden him with this, his pain, for he had seen what it could do to his telepathic friend. His trembling increased as the hurts in his bruised body hit him full force, as the shock of the attack hit him anew.
"Jim, permit me to help," a deep voice pleaded.
"Jim," another voice intruded. "Easy. You're going to be all right."
The hum of the medi-scanner was a welcome sound. There was the slight pressure of a hypo against his arm and he drifted into sleep. He was glad to go. He needed peace. He needed not to think about what had happened.
***
The sounds of sickbay were soothing. He relaxed, knowing that he was safe in McCoy's capable hands. He tried to open his eyes but his lids were very heavy.
"He's coming around now, Doctor," a woman's voice said.
"Jim, Jim wake up," McCoy's voice insisted. "C'mon, everything is fine now. You're okay. Wake up."
His eyelids felt like lead; he was too tired to make the effort to lift them. Another hypo shot send fresh vitality through his system and the heaviness began to ease. He made another attempt and this time he was able to open his eyes. Instinctively, he looked to his right and met dark, concerned, alien eyes. "How did you know, Spock," he asked, not surprised to see the Vulcan there.
Spock was standing stiffly, with hands clasped behind him. "I heard you," he answered lowering his eyes.
Kirk was surprised. How had Spock heard him? He couldn't understand."
"Jim, how do you feel?" McCoy asked.
Kirk looked at him. "Better. What did you give me?"
"A vitaliser shot. You were very lucky, Jim. If Mr Spock hadn't found you when he did, you could have had serious injuries or worse. As it is, that alien shape-shifter worked you over pretty damn well. I've given you medication and I want you to rest for a day."
"I need to be on my feet as soon as possible, Bones. We rendezvous with the Scotia soon."
"Twenty three point six five solar hours, sir," Spock supplied. Kirk smiled then gave his friend a questioning look. "I believe you, Spock, but don't understand how you are always so accurate."
"It is a minor Vulcan ability, sir."
"I see." Kirk stared at Spock in curiosity, still wondering how the Vulcan had heard him call for help and how he had known where to find him.
Spock shifted a little. "Sir, I have interrogated the prisoner."
"Jim, this can wait. You're still in shock," McCoy protested.
"No. I need to hear Mr Spock's report. After that I'll rest, I promise. Please excuse us, Doctor." Kirk did not take his attention away from Spock.
McCoy shook his head, but he indicated to his nurse that they should leave the captain and first officer.
There was a long silence as Kirk considered the debt he owed Spock. Once more, the Vulcan had saved him and this time from the worst kind of abuse for Kirk had no doubt that the alien would have done anything to get its way. But....Spock had 'heard' him.
"How did you hear me?" he asked, at last.
The Vulcan's eyes met his, with reluctance. "You called me."
"I called you! How did I call you?" Kirk asked, confused.
"In your mind. You called me three times, Jim. I believe that your distress augmented the power of your call." His embarrassment was obvious but he continued, "We are joined in brotherhood the Vulcan way. My psi ability is strong. If you need my assistance, I shall always hear you, no matter the distance."
Kirk was stunned. He didn't remember calling out to Spock but he must have and those Vulcan senses had brought Spock to his rescue. Deep emotion almost overwhelmed him. How had had forged such a link with Spock? He didn't deserve it! He wanted to reach out and grasp the other's hand, draw him into a hug, show him some gratitude in the way he would do with another human. On seeing that Spock had read his intentions and now stepped back out of the way as if afraid Kirk might just act on his impulse, he restrained himself. Spock, closer to him than any other, still wary of a simple touch.
"Report," he said, trying to normalise the situation.
Spock fell, at once, into the familiarity of routine. "The alien is weakened and will cause no further problems, sir. I have confined it to the brig. Sir, the being originates in the Zmarran system."
"That's where she wanted to go," Kirk replied. Where Sara and Gary had wanted him to take... No, not Gary. Some alien shape-changer who had found the image in his mind and used it against him. He shuddered.
"The alien had cause to go there, sir. However, its methods were manipulative and vicious." Spock stared at the wall. "Hundreds of years ago, the Zmarran people were enslaved by invaders from a neighbouring world. They fought against their oppressors but many died. Their leaders devised a plan. The bravest were chosen to escape the planet and find help outside their star system. The being we rescued was one of those few. It had found its way to the Spican system during the Klingon attack and its ship was damaged in the cross-fire. It docked with Lady Sara's vessel only to find it damaged, and its occupant close to death. The only hope of survival lay in the cryogenic chamber. As the device was only suitable for human life-forms it was forced to alter its body shape, in effect to become Lady Sara. It took all the information necessary from her mind then discarded her body. It entered cryogenic sleep then once rescued, realised that it would have to remain in its adopted shape."
He paused, hesitating over his next words. Wondering if they would offend Kirk.
"Why didn't it just tell me, Spock? I would have been sympathetic. Why use such crude methods to try and force my help?"
Spock raised his brow and ploughed on. "It is an illogical creature, Captain. In its natural habitat, it uses its shape-changing abilities to please its mate or scare off enemies. It can read images and desires from another's mind; an empathic rather than telepathic skill. It lacks the intelligence to reason as you or I would do. It only knew that it needed a starship to take it home and that the captain of that vessel was susceptible to certain..."
Kirk's laugh was harsh. "I was easy prey. I allowed my hormones to lead me. Dammit, what happened to my intellect, Spock? Was I so sex-starved that I let some alien thing - that you call an 'it' to use me?"
Spock looked at his boots, very embarrassed now by the turn the conversation had taken. "Captain, it artificially augmented your natural instincts in an attempt to control you."
"It did a damn good job," Kirk said, scathingly. "What kind of starship captain am I? How could I forget myself so. You tried to warn me and I lost my temper at you. I treated you shamefully. Bones suspected something was wrong too."
Spock looked up to see the haunted expression in the human's eyes. "Jim, do not be so harsh on yourself."
"I was just ripe for the picking. No better than an animal in rut." Kirk clenched his fists.
Concerned by Kirk's self reproach, Spock tried to reassure him. "Jim, you must not condemn yourself. It is unnecessary."
"Condemn myself! Of course I condemn myself. I was thinking with my glands not my brains!" His humiliation was too much too bear. Misery overcame him at the thought that he might lose Spock's respect over this. He couldn't deal with that. "What must you think of me?" he murmured.
"Jim, please do not be distressed. Do not torment yourself with illogical fears. I think no less of you. I have given you my loyalty, something I would not entrust to one who was unworthy." Spock held out his hand, unable to deny the other a compassionate touch. Kirk grasped his hand. "Thank you, Spock. What would I do without you?" He hung onto the solid reality of the Vulcan's grip and relaxed a little. "You make me see things in perspective. You always bring me peace."
"Only if you permit it, Jim," Spock responded, a touch of criticism in his tone.
Kirk knew what he meant, and could not meet his eyes now. For weeks now, he had been avoiding discussing the deaths on Delta Vega with Spock. He had been running from his grief, bottling it up inside himself. He didn't want to cause Spock pain and if he allowed the Vulcans telepathic senses to read him, the effect on Spock would not be pleasant. Yet, Kirk was also aware that in rejecting Spock's help he was also hurting him. Was there no way around the problem?
Somehow, Spock's natural healing seeped through the touch and that helped clarify his thoughts. "Once I'm on my feet and after we've determined what happened to the Scotia, I will....I'd be grateful for your help. Maybe the meditation..." he broke off.
A fleeting expression crossed the Vulcan's face and he replied, "I would be honoured." He bowed over their clasped hands.
Kirk stared at the bent head in wonder. No man could have a better friend. No man had ever called a Vulcan friend, except himself. Kirk had quickly learned the value of such a friendship, and had once called it a gift beyond price. Now he knew that even that could not adequately describe it.
***
It drifted in space; the most advanced espionage ship in the Federation. Its hull had been penetrated by an unknown force and its crew, unless they had escaped in lifeboats, would have had no chance of survival.
Kirk listened to the reports and wondered who had done this to a ship that had boasted state-of-the art technology. He tried to concentrate on his science officer's report but his mind returned to the Zmarran and how it had used him. He shivered. Why had he succumbed to its demands?
"Captain, are you all right?" Spock was standing close to him, speaking in a low tone.
Kirk sat bolt upright. He had been slipping again, giving into the memory of his shame. He had to cast it aside for his crew depended on him. There was no time for the luxury of self-recrimination. "Yes, Mr Spock. I'm fine."
"Captain." Sulu's tone was urgent. "There's something at the edge of scanner range."
Kirk ordered yellow alert as he moved over to the helm. He leaned over studying the readings then made his way over to the railing, close to the science station. "Mr Spock?" he began.
Spock did not raise his eyes from his scanner. "I have never encountered such readings before, sir. I would suggest suitable precautions be taken."
Kirk nodded. "You're right. Maybe what destroyed the Scotia is ready to try the same with us." He returned to his chair. It was time to call battle stations.
As the lights flashed and Uhura's voice sounded the alert, Kirk's eyes remained riveted on the screen. He had no worries about the crew's efficiency. They would all do their jobs. He watched and waited as an unidentified craft approached them. It was approximately half the size of the Enterprise and its sleek lines indicated power and speed. Like some mythic beast, Kirk thought, then gave a start. There was no time for such fanciful thoughts. "Open a channel to that ship, Uhura," he said.
"No response, sir," she said, after a short time. "They are receiving but aren't replying."
"Keep trying. Patch me in." He threw off the remaining vestiges of his exhaustion and strain, for he couldn't afford to be below par during this hazardous situation. "This is Captain James T Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise. We are responding to a distress call from one of our vessels. You will see it has been damaged. Can you assist us in any way?"
After a few moments of silence, Uhura said, "Incoming message, sir."
"Let's hear it."
The voice was deep and harsh. "You come to fight us but I warn you that we are more than a match for you. Prepare to die."
"We do not want to fight you," Kirk began.
"Captain, they've closed communications," Uhura said.
"They are firing weapons," Spock warned. "Unknown energy signal. Analysing now."
Kirk gave the order to return fire. He sat, tensely, waiting for the alien beam and not knowing if the shields would hold. There wasn't long to wait. The ship rocked under the barrage but the shields did not buckle. Bridge crew had been thrown out of their seats by the impact but they picked themselves up and returned to their stations.
"We got a hit," Sulu reported. "One of their shields is damaged."
"Minor injuries reported, sir," Uhura said. "Maintenance crews confirm there was no serious structural damage."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Kirk turned to the first officer. "Mr Spock?"
Spock swivelled around. "It is most illogical, sir. Why did they attack us? This area is free space yet they destroyed the Scotia and are engaging us."
"Can you prove it was they who attacked the Scotia?"
"Affirmative. The damage to the Scotia's hull clearly indicates..."
"Later, Spock," Kirk interrupted, not wanting to hear all the details right now.
"Surely you will need evidence for your log before you justify your next action regarding the aliens," Spock insisted.
"Spock, if you say the evidence is clear then I trust your judgement. I need nothing more."
Spock returned to his console, a strange tight feeling in his throat. He logged all details for future reference. If by any chance he did not survive this encounter then his captain would be safe from inquiry. Kirk's trust in him was a grave responsibility. He could not fail the one who relied on him so heavily. He would not fail him.
Kirk tried to contact the aliens again. "If you attack us again, we will defend ourselves. This is a starship. We have powerful weapons at our disposal. Do not underestimate us. Who are you. Tell us what you want."
"I have visual," Uhura said.
"On screen," Kirk ordered, and waited in restless silence until the alien appeared.
It seemed to be humanoid with long, white hair surrounding a pale angular face. Deep red eyes gleamed in an odd, piercing way and its thin lips were a dark cobalt. It wore a silver, one piece garment with unknown symbols adorning the sleeves. The being's mouth opened to reveal teeth studded with shining jewels. "We wish to do battle with you."
"But why? We're no threat to you. We come in peace."
"I am Lyrond, battle leader of the Gya fleet. We conquer lesser species and enslave them. We have spread through our neighbouring star systems and now we cast our net wider."
"Commander, we represent many worlds who co-exist in an united federation of planets." Kirk hoped that this message was getting through to the war-like Gya. "We do not seek to conquer. We live in peace, exchanging knowledge, ideas, technology and work for the greater good of us all."
Lyrond laughed. "That is the talk of weaklings. There are only the conquerors or the conquered. That is a law of nature. It is our way."
Kirk glanced at Spock, deriving strength from the Vulcan's supporting look. All his crew awaited his decision, looking to him to bring them safely out of this situation. He had to do the right thing; he could not afford to make a mistake. Yet, there was something in him that wanted to run away, hide, and give the responsibility to someone else. He pulled himself together. He had to overcome these aggressive aliens then he would relax. Then, he would permit Spock to heal him.
Now, he had to find a way out of this. Bluff if necessary. If strength was what these aliens respected well he could be aggressive also. "It is not our way, Lyrond, but I warn you that we are not weaklings. We will defend what is ours. You are too close to Federation territory and you will go no further. You have destroyed one of our ships and attacked another. There was no provocation for those actions. You must justify yourself or take the consequences."
"We need not justify our actions to you. We are the Gya." The alien's voice dripped contempt.
"Why did you destroy the ship?" Kirk demanded, angered by the other's arrogance.
"It was in our path. It was an excellent target for our new weapon."
"There were living beings aboard that ship," Kirk said.
"Inferior life. We are the superior ones."
Kirk smiled. If the alien had known him, it would have recognised its danger. "We have heard that view from others. It is not, I must tell you, the belief of any Federation species. All life forms are sacred to us. Even yours. We do not subscribe to the theory of master races and we will not allow you to impose your will upon any others." He leaned forward, intent on the screen. "You will not encroach further into this area. I offer you two choices. You may stand and fight us. If we do not defeat you then a fleet will follow and you will be unable to withstand them. They will destroy you utterly. Your second option is to return in peace to your home system. There you will stay until you are civilised enough to respect others. You have five solar minutes to decide. Kirk out."
Uhura broke the connection and gave Kirk a slight smile. He returned it, wiped the sweat from his forehead and settled back to wait. The bridge was silent, except for the sounds of the various instruments, and occasionally some crew member would glance at Kirk, sitting motionless in the command chair.
The incoming message arrived in four minutes and thirty five seconds. Lyrond seemed to hesitate before he spoke, "We are the Gya. We are all powerful."
Kirk noted that he didn't seem as arrogant and as sure as before. "No, not in this part of the galaxy. Here 'we' control. I see we have to demonstrate our power to you. Mr Sulu, fire photon torpedoes. Wide dispersal." He leaned forward and muttered "I want him scared."
Sulu nodded. "Aye, sir." He smiled.
The alien ship tried to dodge the barrage but it took hit after hit, and Kirk waited for the next message with fingers crossed. It arrived within a minute.
"Captain Kirk, we did not know we were in your domain. We do not want to anger the Federation. With your permission we shall withdraw."
"Where is your home system?" Kirk asked.
Lyrond was clearly afraid. "We shall not attack any of your vessels again. It was an error. I beg your understanding."
Kirk sat in silence for a time, watching Lyrond squirm, then spoke in a deliberately harsh tone. "I tell you this. We are aware of you now and if you touch any of our ships ever again, we will hunt you down. Do not doubt that we have the technology. Consider yourself lucky that you met us. If you had encountered the Klingons you would all have been dead or enslaved by now. Return to your home. One day we shall meet again and I hope that by then you will have learned that co-operation is a better way than warfare."
Lyrond seemed to shrink into himself. " We shall obey you. We will return home and not bother you again."
"Make sure of that," Kirk replied.
As the Gyan ship retreated, Kirk sensed Spock's presence by his side. "Well, Mr Spock."
The dark eyes were puzzled. "Captain, why did you take such an aggressive stance with Lyrond. How could you know that he would retreat?"
"I didn't know what he would do, but he was a bully. When faced by a superior force most bullies will retreat. I was just hoping that once he realised we were not an easy target, like the Scotia, he'd be afraid to face us, a much bigger ship. What I don't yet understand is why the Scotia with its state-of-the- art sensors didn't get any warning of the attack. Maybe there was a malfunction of some kind."
"It is a possibility," Spock said, hesitated then continued, "Captain, you used an unreliable and risky method on the alien. There was no logic to it."
"I'm an illogical human, Spock, but you have to admit that it worked." Kirk rubbed at his eyes, suddenly very weary, and leaned back.
Spock, noting the human's strain, suggested, "Captain, will you not rest now that the crisis is over. All me to attend to the final details."
Kirk almost retorted with a sharp reply but bit it back. Spock was only trying to help him. Kirk had asked for that help and now he must permit himself to accept it. "Thank you, Mr Spock. I'll do as you suggest. When you're finished cleaning this up, you'll find me in my quarters."
He saw Spock's expression change as his friend realised his meaning. He stood up, smiled a little, then made his way off the bridge. He was glad now to be leaving command on Spock's capable shoulders.
Spock was relieved. Now he would be able to so his duty by his t'hy'la. This time he would not shirk it. This time he would go to the very root of the problem. Aware of Uhura's attention on him, he gave her a sharp glance and she turned to her console. With head held high, Spock sat on the command chair and organised an investigation into the Scotia's last hours but a part of him marvelled at the way his captain, despite all he had endured, had dealt with the Gya. How had Kirk done it? How had a man, so drained and shocked, judged how to counter the alien's aggression? Spock's admiration for Kirk's strength of character and resilience deepened.
Spock would not have dealt with the alien in that way, and realised that there was much he needed to learn from Kirk if he was to a successful first officer to him. He did not want Kirk to be disappointed in him in any way. Spock would strive to understand those qualities that made Kirk the exceptional commander he was. Yet, he wondered if it were possible to learn something that might be a unique part of Kirk's personality. He anticipated a most interesting time spent in his study of his captain.
***
Kirk agreed to accompany Spock to a privacy cubicle. Spock was aware that the human's stress levels were at an unacceptable level. McCoy's medi-scanner had recorded it but Spock's psi ability sensed the actuality of it; the human suffering involved. As he locked the door mechanism, Spock wondered how he was going to obtain Kirk's permission for a deep meld. He had no plan, no prepared speech, he would have to operate by instinct - something that did not come easily to him. He needed to draw on his submerged human heritage, the gut feelings he had always fought so hard to subdue and erase. Was Kirk worth such turmoil? Was the human's friendship worth it?
Yes, he answered the doubts. He is worth it. We are t'hy'la.
Kirk silently stared out the observation port, fascinated as always by the beauty of the galaxy, yet not for the first time he questioned why he had chosen this wandering life. He could have had a quiet and stable time on some Federation world, a choice of careers, a wife and family, the opportunity to watch his children grow up with the woman he loved by his side. He shook his head a fraction, dismissing the rosy picture, for it was not to be. He was too restless. Seeking the unknown was his reason for being here; it was all he had ever wanted to do. He was an explorer, a commander of like-minded people, and he had no regrets.
Sensing Spock by his shoulder, he sighed. The Vulcan had become his most trusted friend. Spock was always calm and dependable, always logical, yet underneath that mask of non-emotion lay a caring and understanding heart. Kirk knew why Spock had suggested they meet here. The Vulcan had been attempting to speak with him for weeks and Kirk had always avoided it. Fool that I am, Kirk told himself. It's time to stop running. I can't continue under this pressure any longer. I've asked for Spock's help and now is the time to accept it.
He wanted that help so badly now that he had almost run - in his eagerness - to get here. Only strict self- discipline had checked his stride. He turned and faced his friend. He would gladly allow the Vulcan to ease his pain.
Spock saw the almost - acceptance on his captain's face and that encouraged him to speak plainly. "Jim, I have observed you closely since the incident at the galactic barrier." He paused on noting the change in the other's eyes, and wishing that he had a better understanding of the finer nuances of standard. Yet, unlike the Vulcan language, it lacked the shades of meaning so vital for communication. "Mr Mitchell's death, given what he had become, was inevitable," he continued, becoming aware now of the rising tide of anger and rejection from Kirk. "You must accept his demise and the events surrounding it. Logic dictates that you cannot continue in this manner. Your ship and crew depend on you for leadership. It is not acceptable that you should..." He broke off on seeing the fury on Kirk's face. What had he said to so incense the human?
"Logic!" Kirk shouted, in a tone that set Vulcan hearing on edge. Spock stepped back, as the full force of Kirk's anger struck him. The distraught human, full of unleashed guilt and pain over the loss of Mitchell, Dehner, Kelso, and now Sara, and with all the humiliation the Zmarran had forced him to endure, was unable to contain himself any more.
"Damn you. I can't be logical and unfeeling about death the way you are. I am a human and my emotions run deep. Gary was my closest friend for years. It's my fault he is dead; my fault that Lee and Elizabeth are gone too. My fault for allowing myself to be used by an alien shape-changer. Everything is my fault."
Kirk's despair pierced Spock's mental barriers. "No, Jim," Spock whispered.
"What can you know about human love, human feelings? Don't speak to me about accepting death when you don't understand the pain of losing a loved one." Kirk's tone was scathing.
The human's eyes blazed with a fury so intense that Spock retreated a few steps. The words sliced through his defences, Vulcan shields useless against this man. Spock had known of it before but had still not fully realised his vulnerability to Kirk's emotions. "I only wish to help," he murmured in an attempt to soothe the other, despite seeing that it was impossible.
"Help! How can you help?" Kirk's tone was rough. "You can't help me. I am alone."
Spock braced himself against the other's pain. "Jim, no, not alone. You are not..."
"Get out," Kirk ordered, harshly. "Get out of my sight."
"Captain...."
Kirk grabbed Spock's arms and shook him hard. The full intensity of Kirk's emotions penetrated through to the Vulcan and he shuddered in reaction. His face anguished, Kirk pushed the unresisting Vulcan away with a force that knocked Spock to crash against the door. "Get out. I don't need you," the human rasped, then turned away and sank onto the couch. He lowered his face onto his hands and released a harsh sob.
Spock staggered to his feet, weaving as Kirk's pain reverberated through him. He touched the unlocking mechanism. He had to leave this room, away from those fearsome emotions, those bitter words and the rejection. The door slid open and he stepped out. He needed to be in his quarters, safe, far from this man, to find peace. There....He stopped. There I will not find peace. He drew himself up. Coward, he chastised himself. You are running from your responsibilities. You must face them. With a steadying breath and strict Vulcan control, he forced himself back. The door closed, and he re-locked it.
Leaning against the wall for support, he studied the huddled figure before him with all of his still jangled senses. Faintly, he heard the almost inaudible whisper coming from the distressed human. "I'm sorry, Spock. What have I done to you?" Spock was about to speak but Kirk continued, "I've given him more pain. I swore I would keep it from him."
Suddenly everything fell into place. Unaware that he was not alone, Kirk had given it away. It was not that he was unwilling to discuss his problems and did not want help but that he was trying to protect Spock from the pain. He had been driving him away to protect him, until now when his tight control had been lost. Kirk, always thinking of others, had known that Spock's psionic ability would leave him vulnerable.
Deep compassion for Kirk swept through the Vulcan and, before he realised what he was doing, he moved over to his friend and knelt beside him.
In despair, Kirk heard Spock leave the room. He pressed his face into his hands, murmuring apologies that now would never be heard. Why had he lost his temper? How could he have subjected his friend to that? He had seen the pain he had caused but had been unable to stem the bitter words that had emerged, words he would have given anything to have left unsaid. Spock, with that eidetic memory of his, would never forget that or the anger that had hurled him against the door.
His eyes burned and his head ached. Dizziness and nausea wreaked their misery on him. Shame scalded him. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he lowered his head further and clasped the back of his neck. "What have I done? How could I have hurt him like that?"
"Jim," the voice insisted. "Jim," it persisted. Spock's voice. Was he dreaming? "Jim," it repeated. He was fantasising. "Jim." he was imagining it. "JIM," it commanded in a way, he had heard only once before. Kirk lifted his head and met the concerned face of his Vulcan friend. He gave himself a shake.
"Jim, permit me to help you," Spock insisted.
Kirk's throat was tight with emotion. "Spock," he murmured.
"I wish permission to touch your mind. I will attempt to heal these wounds that plague you."
"No," Kirk said, despite his memory of the warmth of previous melds. Spock soothed his pain in a way no-one else could manage. "I can't give you any more distress. I saw what I did to you. I won't let you endure that again."
Spock's gaze was steady. "I was unprepared. I was afraid. Now I realise that my own fears are unimportant. I can master them. We are friends, t'hy'la, and it is my duty and my responsibility to help you. You shall permit me to exercise my right concerning your welfare. You must yield to me in this, Jim."
Kirk saw his determination and heard the conviction behind his words. He wavered, wanting now to give Spock permission for the meld.
"I will not permit you to torment yourself further, Jim," Spock continued. "I have been remiss in my duty. Your very command is at stake here. Do you not realise this?"
Kirk saw the truth in those words. His command was in jeopardy. Too much had happened in too short a time, more than any man could handle alone. He had once told Spock that he accepted their friendship on Vulcan terms. He had not understood the ramifications, nor had he been concerned about that. His relationship with the Vulcan was close, relaxing, but at times unfathomable. All he really knew was that he trusted Spock implicitly and if his friend required his compliance in this then he was obliged to concede. He almost laughed at that. James T Kirk complying, conceding, and even yielding to another like this! Had that ever happened before? Apart from Spock, had he ever allowed himself to be dependent on another? And even that time, had it been given willingly, or because he had no choice, injured as severely as he was.
He looked into his companion's earnest and worried gaze and all his resistance deserted him. He would yield to Spock in this and be glad to do so. He was tired of bearing the burden and stupid to continue in the same manner. "What must I do?" he asked.
Spock began to relax. "It is different from the physical healing. It necessitates a deeper probe that can only succeed if you co-operate with me." On seeing the other's alarm he hesitated. "Jim, I have never attempted this type of healing. It will be difficult for I do not know how to guard myself against your emotions. I am not trained in these disciplines. I believe that my success last time was due to instinct and the special attunement we share."
"I'll place my trust in those," Kirk said. "I'm in your hands, Spock, but I don't want to hurt you. I've seen what my anger can do to you."
"Fear not. I am prepared. I will assist you to reach the correct level of meditation then you must open your mind to me." Spock glanced away for a moment, wondering how to explain this to one whose thoughts and memories had been violated by the Zmarran. How could he reassure Jim? There was only one way. A method he had used once before.
He gripped Kirk's shoulders and allowed his sympathy to flow through. He saw it take effect as slowly tightly bunched muscles relaxed under his hands. "You have experienced the mind-touch before but that was at a shallow level. This must go deeper, into those memories that you must reconcile and overcome."
Kirk could not suppress his slight shudder. Despite his trust in Spock, it was daunting to be touched at such a deep level by another. Could he bear it? He would be more than naked, his petty weaknesses exposed to the highly civilised Vulcan. He would be subject to another's will; just like he had been with the Zmarran.
"No, Jim." Spock clearly sensed his unease. "Do not fear the meld. You will be a willing partner in it. Remember also that I understand how you feel for I too, have been apprehensive at being this close to any other."
Kirk smiled, his nervousness abating at that admission. "I am sorry, Spock. I've come into your life and have wreaked havoc."
Spock's eyebrows rose, his surprise obvious to the human who watched him so closely now. "Do not apologise, Jim. Until you came into it, my life was empty and I did not realise it. You have given me a great deal. You have done me great honour in becoming my t'hy'la. Allow me to repay you by using my Vulcan abilities. I swear that I shall be careful of your privacy and will only touch those memories that are pertinent. I would die first rather than abuse your trust in me."
"I know," Jim replied, his voice hoarse. He tried to clear his throat but the hard lump persisted. "Please proceed."
"Very well."
A flash of fear that he was unable to control, insinuated itself down Kirk's spine. "Spock, forgive me," he murmured, knowing that the Vulcan would have sensed it.
"Do not be afraid, Jim," Spock murmured.
Kirk berated himself. Fool, how can you be afraid of Spock? We've already joined in the friendship bond, we are t'hy'las.
Spock, catching his thoughts through the touch, increased the volume of reassurance to him. He was committed to his captain's peace of mind and he would permit no-one to prevent him from fulfilling his responsibility. Not even Kirk himself. He helped the human reach the required level of meditation then said, "Jim, you will open your mind to me."
Relaxed now, Kirk gave his consent. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, he must face this with as much courage as he could muster. My mind is open to you.
I am here. Do not be afraid.
I am not afraid, he reassured, and it was the truth.
Slowly he relaxed further and welcomed the peace it brought. After a time, there was a jolt of returning memory and the events at the barrier replayed. He forced himself not to recoil from them. Gary, struck by the energy bolt, his eyes turning silver. The horrible callousness that had grown along with his power. The fight to the death when he had buried his friend alive. Time flipped and he relived Gary's attack on him during their academy days. Outwardly reconciled they had become close friends but....
All those years and it was still there, Kirk said, in the depths of the meld. His desire for me remained. It grew and twisted inside him until that day in my quarters when he voiced it again. I rejected him again. That's the reason he let the power corrupt him. It was all my fault. Would it have been so difficult for me to give him what he wanted? I did love him as a friend. Why couldn't I let him make love to me? Why was it so repulsive to me?
It was not your fault, Jim. You cannot be held responsible for another's needs? I do not understand human sexuality but I do know that you would have destroyed your own self esteem if you had succumbed to something you had no desire nor interest in. Accept what has happened and realise that it was not your fault. Mr Mitchell could not help himself for his character flaws were too deep to handle the immense force he acquired. Dr Dehner showed how human integrity could handle the power. Her nobility and self sacrifice saved your life. She died willingly for you. Respect that and mourn her. Gary was a friend who went astray. Remember the person whose company you enjoyed for so many years. Remember him as he would wish you to. It is not wrong to mourn the friend who was close to you once.
Peace descended on Kirk, as the good times spent with Gary crowded in but the thought came unbidden. Sara.... His fragile peace shattered as shame at how he had been used by the shape-changer overcame him. I should have resisted it, he said. It used me, played with me, predicting my every response. Revulsion for himself encompassed him.
No, Jim. Do not be so harsh on yourself. Accept what happened. No-one, and certainly not I, thinks any less of you. It was not your fault. You were not weak. You fought against the Zmarran, and did not take it to its home planet. Allow me to ease the sharpness of your pain and grief. Permit me to help you, my t'hy'la.
Yes, Jim replied, I'd like that.
Warmth spread through him as the healing power eased the bruised passageways of his mind. Relief from the torment that had plagued him for so long left euphoria in its wake. The tight bands of tension disappeared leaving him weak and shaken and he slid into a dark place and was comforted by the touch of an alien mind. He huddled there, secure, as his strength began to return, until he was able to reassert his own will and determination and find himself again.
Spock, how can I ever repay you, he said into the darkness.
Spock's mind-voice was faint. Let there be no talk of payment between us. I fulfilled my obligation to you, that is as it should be. Forgive my weakness. I must break the link now.
Spock? Kirk was worried as he concentrated on the Vulcan's wavering presence in his mind. He could sense the weakening of that dependable strength. He could feel an exhaustion that was not his own. Upset now, he realised that the Vulcan had paid a price for helping him resolve his problems.
The shock of being so utterly alone drenched him like an ice-cold shower. He blinked tears from his eyes then rubbed at his face. His uniform shirt clung damply to his neck and it dawned on him that he must have shed a lot of tears during that meld yet had been unaware of them. He sniffed, searched for control, and found it easily enough for the deep pain he had harboured for so long was barely a faint echo now. The nightmares of Gary's, Elizabeth's and Lee's deaths - the episode with the shape-shifter - would always remain with him but they would never haunt him again. He would run his ship, his life, without the guilt and grief that had almost destroyed him.
Gratitude for Spock was uppermost in his thoughts. How could he ever thank the one who had taken on all his suffering and shown him the way to accept and overcome it.
"Spock," he said, in alarm, on seeing the bent head of the Vulcan now slumped at his feet.
Spock heard his captain's voice and banished the trauma and exhaustion caused by the healing. It was possible for a time and he would deal with it later. He straightened his shoulders and looked up but once again he had underestimated the human's uncanny perception.
"You need to rest. You look very strained." Kirk's voice was filled with concern.
"I am functional," Spock tried to reassure.
"No, you are not," Kirk argued. "You will rest."
"But, Jim," he protested.
To his surprise, he was hauled to his feet and, too bemused to resist, he allowed Kirk to sit him on the couch and lift his feet up onto it. As he was settled onto the cushions, he tried, "Captain, I...."
"Don't argue with me," Kirk demanded. "Just lie there and rest."
At first Spock was uncertain what to do but he was aware that Kirk's command air was fully operational now. There was no choice in the matter, he realised. The healing meld had worked and Kirk was his normal assertive self again. To reach the exact memories, to exorcise them and assuage Kirk's guilt and grief had been the most difficult thing Spock had ever done in his life. Once there though, it would have been so easy to access other memories, to sweep through the unprotected mind to read it fully. However, as he had told Jim, he would have died first rather than abuse the trust placed in him. Exhausted now but content, he closed his eyes. Jim had permitted him to help and would now be able to face the future without guilt.
He sat up with a start on realising that he must have drifted into sleep for a time. He focussed on his friend who stood staring out of the port viewer, watched him for a few moments, and noted how Jim slowly became aware of his gaze. Once again he wondered what kind of rapport they had; Vulcan and human, telepath and non-telepath.
Kirk turned to face him with a smile. "You didn't sleep for long."
"How long, Captain?" he asked, his time sense was uncertain.
"About an hour." Kirk sat beside him.
"I did not intend to sleep. I am sorry..."
"You must take whatever steps necessary for your full recovery from all of this. I can only guess at the toll it must have taken on you. I require that you care for yourself now, Spock."
"Captain, I am...."
Kirk grabbed Spock's arm. "You told me that our friendship means taking responsibility for one another."
Although startled, Spock nodded in agreement. He 'had' said that to Jim. "Affirmative," he replied, wondering just where Kirk was leading. He tried to clear his head but he was still weary from the healing.
"Then, you must permit me to exercise my right concerning your welfare," Kirk replied, with a satisfied grin. You must yield to my judgement in this."
Spock sighed in resignation. "I yield to your judgement in this, Jim."
"Good. Now you must do whatever it takes to recover from this ordeal. What do you need to do, Spock?" Kirk asked.
"Meditate and rest," Spock replied.
"Then implement at once," Kirk ordered, afraid that Spock, in his unselfish way, might neglect himself.
"And nourishment," Spock added. "Healing uses much energy." He paused then asked, "Will you dine with me?"
"I'd be honoured," Kirk replied, delighted with the invitation. He realised that it was likely that Spock had never asked anyone this before.
Friendship meant responsibility, that much was certain, but Kirk knew that his obligation to Spock went beyond what he was used to in normal human relationships. To Spock this was a deep and personal commitment. The Vulcan had given him his trust and Kirk was aware that Spock would die rather than break it. He wondered how he had become so close to the Vulcan. Why had the reticent, self-sufficient logician allowed it? Kirk made a silent vow to himself to always honour and respect his Vulcan friend, and never intentionally cause him hurt. Also to remember his non-human sensibilities, to understand them, and to learn all he could about Spock's customs and philosophy. He became aware of the other's stare and knew that those psi-senses had caught his thoughts. He smiled, not minding, and glimpsed the Vulcan's surprise at that.
What did he feel for this being who had become closer to him even than his own brother. The bond he and Spock had forged was something that few were privileged to know; a fact even the Vulcan didn't deny. His affection for Spock was deep and he wondered just what Spock felt for him. He felt something; Kirk had sensed it in the meld but Spock could never articulate his feelings and that was something that Kirk would have to respect.
He dismissed the thoughts; he would ponder them another time. "I'm ravenous."
"Indeed. I too am somewhat hungry," Spock stated.
"Then let's go and eat. Your health is very important to me."
Spock swallowed hard. "Captain, I am unworthy of your concern. I am Vulcan and cannot return human emotions..." He stopped, on seeing that Kirk was startled by his words. "Forgive me, it was not my intention to read your thoughts. Due to the residue left by the mind-meld they are audible to me. Given time, this will fade." He swallowed again and bowed his head.
Spock was unable to meet this man's eyes. He was afraid of his anger and even worse, his fear and rejection. Kirk would resent having his thoughts known without permission. Why had Spock not been able to shut them out? Why had he admitted to hearing them? It suddenly dawned on Spock that to lose Kirk's friendship now would be a blow he would not recover from. They were t'hy'la.
His recriminations were cut short by a hand pressed on his shoulder. "Spock, being your friend sure ain't dull. Let there be no misunderstandings between us. I don't mind if you picked up my thoughts. They were genuine, meaningful thoughts but I am sorry they made you uncomfortable."
Spock looked into the human's open and smiling face and relaxed. "Very well, Jim. No misunderstandings."
"I promise not to think so loudly again in your company," Kirk added with a smile.
"Thank you, Jim," Spock replied, and there was some relaxation of the lines of his face that appeared to Kirk almost like a smile.
Kirk led the way from the cubicle. He was at peace having, with Spock's help, laid his ghosts to rest. He would be able to face the Zmarran without anger or revulsion and would offer it Federation help for its enslaved people.
Human and Vulcan walked the corridors of their ship in silent harmony. The gentle vibration of the ship's engines under their feet was a familiar and reassuring sensation. The crew, they passed, stepped aside for their command team. Everyone respected the bond the two had forged and knew that Kirk and Spock were the pride of Starfleet Command because of it. Receptive to the thoughts of the humans in the confined area, Spock tightened his mental shields against them but he permitted himself a moment to savour the positive warmth of those around him.
As they stood in the turbo-lift, Spock asked, "Will you be attending the concert, Captain?"
Kirk's eyes lit up. "Certainly. Will you?"
"Indeed. I shall be performing," Spock replied. Startled by his captain's sheer delight, Spock stepped back a pace.
"I am so pleased, Spock," Kirk said, full of enthusiasm. "Lt Uhura liked your playing then?"
"Affirmative. As well as playing solo, I am accompanying her singing."
Kirk gasped, stopped the lift and shook the confused Vulcan's arms exuberantly. "You're accompanying Lt Uhura?"
"I believe that I just informed you of that fact, Captain," Spock responded. Why was Jim shaking him? Why was he so excited? Human behaviour was inexplicable!
"I can't wait to see this. I just can't wait!" Kirk laughed with delight. His quiet, reserved Vulcan friend was coming out of his shell. To play his lyre in public was something he had never done before but to combine his talent with Uhura! Kirk was deeply touched, knowing that Spock was doing it for him. "Thank you," he said, knowing that nothing else was required.
"I am honoured," Spock said, bowing his head in acknowledgement.
Kirk unlocked the lift mechanism and leaned back against the wall. What would his crew make of it all? He had a feeling that both he and they were going to be pleasantly surprised. He didn't know Uhura very well but instinct told him that she was a remarkable woman and one not afraid to disturb a Vulcan's cool. What was Spock in for at this concert? Kirk couldn't wait.
***
McCoy accompanied Kirk to the concert, delighted to see his captain back to his usual dynamic self. Kirk was extremely eager to see Mr Spock play the lyre; in fact, once the crew had heard that their mysterious science officer was an accomplished musician and would be taking part in the concert, their curiosity and excitement was apparent.
McCoy knew that the Vulcan was responsible for Kirk's better condition. He would have given anything to have been a witness to whatever had taken place but was aware through Kirk's carefully guarded words that it was a private matter between himself and Spock. Kirk could not explain it to McCoy in anything but general terms. Although pleased by Kirk's recovery, McCoy could not help but be a little jealous that the Vulcan was able to do what he - a doctor - could not. Also he found it difficult to understand Jim's attachment to the cold, austere first officer. McCoy recalled the Vulcan rejecting his offer of a drink. That had hurt McCoy in some way and made him angry every time he thought about it.
He settled into a seat and looked around. The theatre was full but the rest of the crew could watch from the rec rooms, and those on duty would be able to view the show on tape or hologram whenever they wished. McCoy suspected that everyone would want to watch this history- making event. Mr Spock, the ice-cold automaton, playing for an audience! Deigning to share his talent with the inferior humans on the Enterprise! It had to be the event of the century...
"This had better be good," he muttered.
Kirk grinned at him. "It will be."
Uhura stepped onto the stage. She wore a colourful gown of African design that set off her lovely form to perfection. As she introduced the first act, McCoy settled back to enjoy it.
The enthusiastic audience gave all the performers loud applause but as Spock's appearance drew near, there was an anticipation in the air that was electric. Even McCoy felt it as Uhura introduced the Vulcan.
Dressed in a black, outfit of Vulcan design that accentuated his lithe, slim body, Spock walked onto the stage. There were gasps from the crowd for no-one had ever seen him wear anything other than Starfleet clothing.
"He is stunning," Janice Rand's unmistakable voice whispered nearby. "Like some Vulcan warrior prince."
"He's magnificent," Christine Chapel breathed.
McCoy shook his head, and prepared himself to be bored. He knew that the sound of the stringed instrument would not be to his taste, particularly when played by a cold Vulcan musician with no soul.
Kirk knew that beneath that calm exterior, his friend was nervous; as much as any human might be and perhaps even more. Kirk watched him with pride for he knew that Spock was overcoming deep-seated reserve to please him. Kirk sat back and relaxed, knowing that the crew was in for a real treat.
Spock sat on a stool, tuned the lyre, and then looked at the audience. "I will play a Vulcan melody for you. It is called 'T'hy'la". The word seemed the linger in the air as Spock picked out the figure of his friend despite the subdued lighting. Reassured by Jim's presence, Spock proceeded to play the ballad of Sendel and Sivan - the warrior brothers.
Chills ran up and down Kirk's spine as the alien music entwined itself into his soul. He had seen Spock's gaze on him and knew that the title, although he did not understand its meaning, the melody and words of the song were all dedicated to him. The strange alien chords caused delightful shivers in those with an ear for music but Kirk felt it the deepest of all.
When the music stopped there was a stunned silence before a sudden riotous applause rocked the room. Spock bowed his head until there was quiet then played two more pieces, one Vulcan and the other an old Earth song recognised by everyone.
Kirk was smiling. Spock had played him those songs once before and he loved them. He applauded loudly, once Spock had finished then waited with glee as Uhura returned to the stage for he knew what no-one else did. That these two were joining forces. He was not disappointed at the audience response to Uhura's announcement that Mr Spock would accompany her.
"Well, I'll be damned," McCoy uttered, beside him.
Uhura sang three old ballads as well as two recent compositions, flawlessly accompanied by the Vulcan harp which added an other-worldly and spine-tingling sound. Kirk was mesmerised by the performance and wondered how long the two had rehearsed and when they had found the time. The final song was a humorous little ditty about a girl who fell in love with a handsome man who didn't notice her. As Spock played the instrumental section, Uhura moved closer to him and clearly taking her courage in both hands, she began to sing to him. Kirk spluttered and laughed. He had suspected that Uhura might not be able to resist the temptation but how would Spock react?
Spock had enjoyed playing in the concert. He had even found satisfaction in accompanying Uhura's fine voice but when she turned and sang words of passion to him, he almost faltered. Surely she should know better than to behave in this fashion for in the past, she had always respected his differences. He resolutely continued to play, deciding to freeze her with a look if she dared take any more liberties but Jim's delighted laughter reached him and something in the happiness of that, stopped him. Jim had suffered enough. How could Spock deny him a little amusement, even if it was at the expense of Vulcan dignity.
He gave Uhura a long-suffering look, conveying to her his acceptance of her actions. She smiled and seized the moment, singing and dancing around him with sensuous abandon. The audience went into fits of laughter as he continued to accompany her with complete unconcern, a perfect foil to her teasing. Attuned to his t'hy'la, Jim's chuckles rang in his ears and, inwardly, Spock smiled.
The song over, the audience cheered and clapped and would not let them go. Spock stood, awkwardly, at Uhura's side and waited patiently until they quietened then the other performers clustered around the two of them, full of congratulations.
Uhura turned to her superior officer. She was still dazed that he had permitted her to tease him and had even gone along with it all. He stood beside her now, all formality and reserve, and so handsome in his dark outfit. Why had he done it? She was unsure but suspected that it had something to do with the captain. "Mr Spock, you were wonderful. The hit of the show."
"You are too generous," he replied. "All those who participated were excellent."
She smiled a little. "May I ask a favour, Mr Spock?" She didn't know whether he would allow it but she was determined to try.
"You may ask, Lt Uhura."
"Would you teach me to play your lyre?" There, she had said it but regretted it on seeing the flicker of surprise in his eyes. He raised a brow, blinked several times, then swallowed. Stupid. What a stupid request to make! He would be offended and most certainly refuse.
"It would be an honour to teach you, Lt Uhura," he said to her complete and utter delight.
Before she could thank him, Kirk came striding over to them. She had not seen him so relaxed before. His eyes sparkled with pleasure and his body seemed to dance with exuberance and vitality. He had never looked more handsome. Uhura sighed with regret. It wasn't fair that he was out of bounds to her.
"Uhura, you were wonderful!" he exclaimed. He put his arm around her for a moment. "Thank you for putting on such an excellent show. Well done."
She smiled, pleased by his praise, and accepted it. "My artists are all very talented, Captain, don't you think?"
Kirk took them all in with a sweeping glance. "Yes, every single one of them." He smiled at everyone.
Blushes, smiles, and murmured thanks were the responses to his praise and he looked at them with pride. His gaze lingered on Spock though and Uhura could see the affection in his eyes. She beamed with happiness. It was her privilege to serve on a ship with two such command officers. She had never seen their like before and suspected never would again. The true principles of the Federation were embodied in these two.
Kirk drew Spock aside. "May we talk?"
Spock visibly tensed, but he followed Kirk to one of the backstage dressing rooms and awaited his friend's words. Kirk studied the wall decorations for a minute before speaking. He hardly knew what to say to this friend who had given him so much. "Thank you," he said, at last, knowing that the words were inadequate.
Spock bowed but did not reply.
Kirk took a deep breath and asked what had been gnawing at him since the first song. "What does t'hy'la mean, Spock?"
Spock stared at him with almost hypnotic intensity. "It is an ancient Vulcan word. It means friend, but more than that, it also means brother. It is what you are to me, Jim. My t'hy'la, my bond-brother, my chosen brother."
Kirk couldn't speak, emotion choking him as he realised that the song had truly been dedicated to him. He sighed with contentment for in this alien being he had found a friend like no other. "You have truly honoured me, Spock." He smiled. "My t'hy'la." He sounded the word out. "Did I say it right?"
In answer, he received the faintest hint of a smile.
"Are there words to the song?" he asked.
Spock gave a slight start. "Affirmative."
"Will you tell me what it is about?"
Spock nodded. "It concerns the warrior brothers, Sendel and Sivan. It is an ancient myth of the Vulcan people."
"Yes," Kirk encouraged.
Spock seemed hesitant and Kirk wondered if he had inadvertently asked the wrong thing. There were still so many unknowns concerning Spock. His customs and tradition were still a mystery.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It wasn't an order."
"Such legends can be whimsical, Captain."
"Legends interest me, " Kirk replied.
Spock squared his shoulders. "You must understand that it tells of a time when Vulcans were passionate, emotional beings. We had not yet adopted the tenets of Surak."
"I'll keep that in mind," Kirk said, with a slight grin. This might prove to be interesting.
He settled on a chair and listened as Spock related the tale of a bond between two warriors that had withstood all that a malevolent goddess had thrown at it. Spock's voice was even and emotionless but Kirk could tell that the story held special meaning to him. Sendel and Sivan had endured terrible torment for one another, both ultimately dying, each one believing that his sacrifice could save the other. Kirk sensed that Spock compared their bond to that belonging to the heroes of the myth and he was deeply touched.
In the silence that followed, Kirk thought about the closeness he shared with his Vulcan friend and in a moment of insight, understood the depth of Spock's commitment to him. He knew also that his own to Spock was just as profound. He would give his life and career for Spock, just as surely as Spock would do the same for him. He recalled what his friend had already done for him, feats of loyalty and courage that the ancient Vulcan heroes would have approved. He fought to control his sudden surge of emotion.
"Forgive, me. I have upset you," Spock said.
Kirk sniffed, blinked, then stood up. "No. It's okay." He reached out, suddenly wanting to hug this alien-brother close, hoping that Spock would allow it and sensing somehow that he just might.
A familiar Georgia drawl stopped him in his tracks. "So there you are, Jim. Y' coming to the after-concert shindig?"
Kirk turned to him. "Sure, we are."
"Captain, I have matters to..." Spock began.
"No," Kirk interrupted, annoyed that the moment of openness had been disturbed. Spock bowed his head but not before Kirk saw his uncertainty then the mask of aloofness that settled onto his face. "Please," Kirk said, changing his approach.
Spock looked at him with sudden resolution in his eyes. "If you command it, sir."
Kirk smiled a fraction. "It's not a command. Only my wish."
"Very well, sir, I shall accompany you."
"It'll sure be a dull party," McCoy mumbled.
"Bones!" Kirk chided.
"Mr Spock is not a party-goer, Jim," he said, with a touch of mockery in his tone. "Vulcans don't know how to have fun."
"I have never understood the term 'fun', Doctor. Such frivolous activity is not logical," Spock countered, with a lofty disdain.
"Humans need to let their hair down sometimes," McCoy said. "It's good for them."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Let their hair down?"
"Whoa. Enough," Kirk interrupted. "It's just an expression, Spock. It means to unwind and enjoy oneself."
"Illogical!"
Kirk grinned and didn't reply. As he walked to the turbo-lift with his two friends in tow, Kirk reflected on his good fortune on having such good friends beside him. He was determined, though, to help them through their mutual hostility to understand one another. He suspected that it would not be easy, given two such different personalities. He stopped, placing a hand on each man's shoulder, and they both looked at him in surprise. He chuckled at their expressions but was determined to tell them of his feelings.
"I'm the luckiest captain in the fleet. With you two by my side, nothing will defeat me."
McCoy's face showed his pleasure and a certain, uncharacteristic embarrassment. "Let's hope nothing can defeat you, Jim."
Spock was silent but there was a warmth in his dark eyes.
No matter the trials ahead, Kirk knew that they would survive them. He felt great now. Ready to take on all the galaxy could throw at him, for recent events had been resolved and there would be no more nightmares to haunt him. The future beckoned with promises of hope and adventures beyond his wildest dreams.
***
McCoy stretched out on his bed, unable to sleep. His mind kept returning to the sound of the Vulcan lyre. What had he sensed about the quality of the music and the skill of the player? How could someone as emotionless as the Vulcan play such beautiful melodies with feeling. Then there was the other matter of why Spock had permitted Uhura to tease him as she sang? There was also the unique relationship that had formed between the Vulcan and Kirk.
McCoy sighed in defeat and ordered the computer to play a copy of Spock's appearance at the concert on his console. After it had finished, he lay back. It had been a stunning and moving performance and showed that the Vulcan had deeply hidden depths. He hadn't played like a computer generated program but like a true musician. He knew that he had not started on the right foot with the Vulcan and they just rubbed one another the wrong way. In the main, McCoy admitted, it had been his fault. He needed to keep his caustic remarks under control.
He recalled Jim's parting words that evening. "I want you and Spock to get along."
Kirk was the most intuitive person McCoy had ever met, always cutting to the heart of the problem. He knew what damage a clash of personalities between the science officer and medical officer could cause the ship. A mutual antagonism had developed between himself and the Vulcan that could easily get out of hand. McCoy resolved to try and gain some kind of understanding with the Vulcan for it dawned on him that he actually respected him perhaps even liked him - a little. He had seen what the Vulcan's friendship had done for Jim. It mystified him still, but he was pleased for Jim's sake. There was a confidence in the captain, a relaxed assurance, and a comfortable air of authority that had been lacking before. Spock was the key to his captain's well-being. McCoy was certain of it.
Aliens. Who could understand them? Vulcans were impossible, but he was damn well going to try.
The end.