LIKE STEEL TO A MAGNET
Spock remembered every vivid detail of the command crew's abduction to this remote planet at the edge of Federation space. Helplessly plucked from the safety of the Enterprise, they had been surrounded by armed Klingons, Kirk dragged away to an unknown fate, the rest of them herded into this dank cavern and imprisoned for more than a day without food or drink.
They had checked and re-checked their cell, but there was no escape. The entrance was sealed with a heavy stone even Vulcan strength was unable to shift. Reluctantly, Spock resigned himself to the knowledge that for now they were trapped here, prisoners of the Federation's most brutal enemies.
He recalled the events leading to their presence in this star system.
Klingons had been sighted in the vicinity by the U.S.S. Asimov. After reporting energy readings of an unknown type emitting from the only Class M world, this small scoutship had not been heard from again. Fearful that the Klingons were preparing for another war with the Federation, Starfleet had ordered the Enterprise to investigate in the hope that the might of a starship would frighten off their old adversaries. The instructions had been clear. On no account were Klingons to be allowed to establish a base in Federation territory. Kirk was given total authority to act in any way he thought necessary.
Once the Enterprise had achieved orbit, sensor readings had given conclusive proof that Klingons were on the planet surface. Kirk had ordered an alert, instructing that shields should be maintained at all times, and was in the process of choosing the personnel for a landing party when suddenly - inexplicably - the complete Bridge Crew had been caught in a powerful transporter beam.
Spock swallowed in an attempt to ease his aching throat. Normally he could have endured the discomfort of their confinement, but his worry over Kirk, the feelings of helplessness at his inability to help his cellmates was wearing down even Vulcan stoicism.
Gradually he became aware of stinging pains in his body that increased in severity as time progressed. With growing horror he realised the source; somewhere in this vast complex, Jim was being tortured. Instinctively through the tenuous link they shared, forged by the mind-melds they had participated in, and enhanced by the friendship between them, Spock was tuning in to the agony the human suffered.
The pain reached an overwhelming crescendo. Spock drew on every control he could muster, but the sudden cessation left him so weak that he gasped out loud. He opened his eyes to see the worried humans around him and, in an even voice, reported the heartbreaking news that he could still not accept, despite the evidence of his telepathic senses. Every word was drawn from him with agonising slowness. "I am no longer aware of the Captain's living essence."
The strain on the faces of his shipmates was difficult enough to bear, but their raw emotions were impossible for a telepath to endure. Spock attempted to protect himself from the intense feelings inside their small prison, but his own shock was numbing and it was increasingly difficult to maintain some semblance of control.
Shortly after, the Klingon commander came to gloat, boasting that Kirk was dead and threatening that by this time tomorrow they would join him. He watched them very carefully for a reaction, but no-one allowed him that satisfaction and with a sadistic laugh their captor left. Kazal was only too familiar to the Enterprise crew; they had met him previously during a brief battle over a territorial matter and, badly defeated by Kirk's cunning, the Klingon had sworn revenge.
Spock sat in silence amongst the distressed humans. He tried to protect himself from their overwhelming emotions, but there was no escape from them within the cramped confines of the cavern. He struggled, in vain, to reach the Vulcan disciplines necessary for his survival.
The humans saw his face contort with pain, and Uhura, who knew him better than any other there, reprimanded her crewmates. "Calm down everyone," she snapped, gesturing towards the Vulcan. The others immediately understood her meaning and sought to control their fears.
As the pressure lessened, Spock found himself able to achieve some degree of calm. He took a deep breath and with an effort that drew on all of his formidable will, he forced himself to remember his duty to these people and to the Enterprise. He did not dare think on the fate of his Captain. Not yet.
He stared at the faces watching him so intently. Uhura - calm and steady, only her eyes betraying her anxiety. Sulu - tense but controlled, ready to obey his superior officer's commands. Chekov - afraid and nervous, his youthfulness so apparent on his strained features. Leslie - shaken but alert and waiting. Galloway and Josephs of Security with their loyalty to him shining in their eyes. Hadley and Brent - apprehensive but trusting.
They were waiting for him to arrive at a solution, to make a decision and lead them. But he was afraid. Without Jim's supportive presence beside him, the awareness of his friend's being, he was lost and alone. Spock of Vulcan was no longer the alien amongst humans - the outsider. He could not pretend to be untouched by recent events, for he was living his worst nightmare - the death of the one person who had reached out to him in his isolation and had taught him the meaning of friendship.
He stifled a groan. NO, he admonished himself silently. He must not resort to self-pity and despair. He was a Vulcan; First Officer of the Enterprise. He must control and find the strength to continue as Jim would have wished.
"Sir, are you all right?" Uhura asked, in a concerned voice.
Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded
"Is the Captain really dead, sir?" Chekov asked the question all had feared to voice.
Spock swallowed. He had faced reports of Jim's death before, but had never believed them, knowing - somehow - that his friend was still alive. He had taken great risks to find him, but had never before fully lost the awareness of Jim's life-force. Yet surely he would have felt the death emanations of one so close to him? That thought provided him with the courage to take the only course possible.
"I do not know, but I will attempt a mind-search," he finally managed to say. "I am unable to reassure you if it will work. I will go into meditation, so do not be alarmed at anything I say or do. Do not, under any circumstances, touch me. I must stress the importance of that. Do you understand?"
Spock looked at each one in turn, accepting their word that they would obey his instructions. He closed his eyes to hide the sudden unbidden emotions threatening his weakened defences at their complete and utter faith in him, and set himself to achieve the depth of meditation necessary to harness his psi-powers for the demanding task of mind-search. It was an ability he had not utilised since his basic training as a child; now he must draw on that long-ago teaching to discover if his Captain was alive or dead.
As he slipped deeper into trance, his breathing slowed, and his Vulcan senses were heightened by his need to find his friend. He reached out into the void, searching for the mind he knew, a place where he was always welcomed, the familiar configuration of thoughts, the personality which had drawn him from the beginning, like steel to a magnet.
Jim, he called silently, with all the force of his powerful telepathy.
Jim, he pleaded, to the one so receptive to his thoughts.
Jim, he demanded his t'hy'la's response, as was his right.
In the empty darkness something flickered. Spock latched onto it, nurturing the faint spark, encouraging it to react to his call, yet not daring to believe that it could be Kirk. A sudden tendril of thought reached him, and a flash of joy spread through Spock's mind as he recognised the glimmer of the unique personality which belonged to only one man in the galaxy.
JIM. He increased the power of his signal, homing in on the weak flicker with uncanny precision and flooding it with vigour.
Spock? The reply was faint, the mind-voice filled with disbelief that rapidly changed to sheer happiness as Kirk opened his mind fully, accepted the force of the Vulcan's will and allowed it to bolster his strength.
It only took seconds to exchange news and Spock fought to control his fury over his Captain's treatment from the ruthless Kazal. Fate had played Kirk into the Klingon's hands and Kazal had relished the chance to hurt the human he hated above all others.
Confident that none could stop him, Kazal had revealed to Kirk the secrets of the old civilisation they had found on the deserted planet; advanced technology that included a transporter able to penetrate any shield. They had experimented with passing ships, including an off-course cargo vessel, the scout vessel U.S.S. Asimov, and now the Enterprise.
To Kirk's great relief, he had learned that his ship was now out of range and engaged in combat with a Klingon battle cruiser. He trusted Scotty to keep her safe and knew that a message would be well on the way to Starfleet with the details, for Kazal had also boasted to the Engineer about their findings after he had threatened the deaths of his prisoners. They had met several Klingon commanders before, all had been honourable opponents but none had been as downright vicious and stupid as Kazal was; a factor which might work to their advantage.
Jim, can you move? Spock urged.
A little, but I don't think I can stand.
Spock felt all the burning pain from the Human's damaged legs, and fought to restrain his anger from reaching the other. Jim, we cannot escape from here. Are you heavily guarded?
Kirk sent an image of a sparsely furnished room with a small bed and chair, shuttered window and open door. I'm alone. No-one's guarding me. I was unconscious until you roused me, I doubt they expected me to wake at all. A touch of wry humour spread along the link. They didn't reckon on the determination and skill of my Vulcan friend.
A blinding surge of pain overlapped the communication and Spock recoiled for a moment from the agonising force of it. Permit me to ease your pain, Jim, he said as he regained his control.
No, I can't allow you to suffer this, you must withdraw, Kirk protested.
I cannot, Jim. You must accept my assistance. You are the only one who can find and free us. If I can reach the alien transporter, perhaps I will be able to operate it and return us to the Enterprise.
Kirk hesitated for a few seconds. I don't like it, Spock, but it's the only game in town.
Game in town? Spock asked.
Kirk's mind-laughter was a welcome sound to the Vulcan. I'll explain later.
Very well, Captain. Now please, you must trust me. Relax your mind, permit me to control the pain. Do not be distressed if you feel discomfort at my constant presence. I will endeavour to remain as unobtrusive as possible.
Why should I be distressed, Spock? You're with me, I am not alone anymore. I'm so relieved to know that you're all safe. The reassuring reply dissolved the Vulcan's fears.
Not for the first time, Spock marvelled at his Captain's unconcern at the mind-links, his uncanny ease with them. How could Kirk - a human - such a very private person, possibly be relaxed with such an intimate form of communication? He sighed, throwing the thought aside for the moment. The phenomenon could be analysed later. The immediate problem was to assist his friend enough to allow him to function.
***
Kirk lay on the narrow bed as strength poured into him from the Vulcan's mind. He stretched out his limbs as the pain began to ease, and as soon as was humanly possible, he gingerly sat up, swung his legs onto the floor and stood. As dizziness overtook him, he clutched the bedpost, grimly hanging on until it passed. Although he gratefully accepted Spock's help, a part of him knew the toll it would take on the Vulcan. Resolving to ease his dependence as quickly as he could, Kirk firmly drew on every reserve available to him to fight his weakness.
Kirk's vision cleared and, slowly he made his way to the door. He halted, then cautiously peered into the dimly lit corridor until satisfied there was no-one near. With infinite care, he walked along, drawn to Spock by the link, his body automatically heading in the right direction. After travelling a short distance he heard voices. Stopping dead in his tracks he listened intently, ascertained that the Klingons were coming towards him and glanced around searching for cover. He caught a glimpse of a tiny alcove and heart thumping with fear, he scrambled into the safety, and shrank back against the wall.
The Klingons marched past, not noticing the trembling man so close to them. As the noise of their pounding steps receded into the distance, Kirk began to breathe normally again, but he stayed hidden in the shadows until sure it was safe to proceed on his journey. On a subliminal level, he was aware of the Vulcan and instinctively sent a message of reassurance to him. In return he received a wave of encouragement and support that caused him to smile and increase his speed.
The bond between them was the only thing keeping him going now, and the easing of his weakness and pain was allowing him to think and act. He did not consider his abused body and the healing that would be necessary if he ever returned to his beloved Enterprise. Relentlessly, he forced his exhausted body on.
The sense of Spock's proximity increased with each passing step, and he knew that the prison where his crew was being held was close. How was he to release them? What chance did he - an injured man only on his feet due to the power of his friend's telepathic skills - have against a group of Klingon warriors? At the sound of approaching footsteps he froze. Perhaps this solitary Klingon was his answer. He calmed his ragged breathing, flattened himself against a doorway and waited.
The soldier never knew what hit him. Kirk stood back, grinning with satisfaction at his easy conquest, but with a laugh amended that... at their easy conquest. He had felt the force of Vulcan strength added to his own much weakened muscle power.
What a team! he sent silently as he grabbed the fallen Klingon's disruptor and continued on his way.
Indeed, came the expected response.
The alien complex ended in a wide archway built into the natural rock. Kirk sped through, almost running in his haste, barely halting his stride as he sent a burst of disruptor fire at the two unsuspecting guards who sat drinking outside the sealed-in cavern. He scanned the large boulder that covered the entrance, despair creeping over him as he realised the impossibility of moving it by himself. Stoically shrugging the negative emotion away, he searched for the means to release his people, his fingers carefully covering the smooth stone until they found a slight depression almost at ground level. Grinning, he pressed hard and the rock slid smoothly aside.
Spock, he called, suddenly completely exhausted from his efforts.
Moments later he was surrounded by his bridge crew, their shock at his physical condition apparent in their outcries of concern. "Spock," he repeated aloud, searching for his friend.
The others parted to allow Spock to reach the Captain's side and Kirk saw the strain in those dark eyes, an expression which quickly changed to extreme anger at the evidence of Kirk's injuries.
"Spock, we must find that transporter," Kirk said, deflecting the Vulcan's show of emotion as he had intended, and drawing his attention to the job which had to be done.
"Yes, sir," Spock replied with noticeable effort.
Pulling the mantle of command around his shoulders, Kirk organised his tired and hungry officers. Within minutes they were spreading along the corridors, in possession of three disruptors and searching for the means to get back home. None of them were fit for a battle with highly trained Klingon warriors but, if it was necessary, they would fight to the death.
Knowing that proximity would make it easier for his friend to maintain the meld, Kirk walked close to Spock's side. However being honest with himself he admitted that being near his friend's physical presence brought him a great deal of reassurance. As he met Spock's eyes, he grinned with embarrassment knowing his feelings were bleeding through the link, but he relaxed on receiving the amused almost-smile in return.
A harsh yell reached them. "qama' 'e' DaH yISam"
They all knew the identity of that hateful, rasping voice... Kazal.
Spock translated quietly. "Find the prisoner now!"
"They must be near," Kirk whispered, "we have to take them on. There are only thirty of them, I've disabled three." He grinned mischievously then added, "That should make the odds a little better."
He was rewarded with amusement from his people, and he chuckled, well satisfied at having eased their tensions. Leading the way along a corridor, Spock at his heels, the others following, they reached an intersection. He stopped and glanced at Spock, a silent message passing between them as they heard the approach of booted feet.
It was over in a few seconds; their prize was four more disruptors.
Spock held one of the prisoners in an unbreakable grip. Kirk questioned the Klingon who, obviously terrified by threats of Vulcan mind-control, soon capitulated and revealed the location of the transporter. The hapless captive then slumped heavily to the ground as Spock's mercilessly applied his famous nerve-pinch.
"Captain, your remarks about the mind-power of the Vulcan people were most inaccurate," complained the slightly aggrieved first officer.
"Tell me about it!" Kirk exclaimed, but he added silently, Sorry, Spock, but it sure scared him, didn't it?
Spock's only reply was the familiar lifting of a slanted brow.
The Transporter Room fell to them easily. Galloway and Josephs guarded the door, whilst the others attempted to decipher the alien control panel. The Klingons who had been guarding the area were soldiers not scientists, and could not give them the necessary information.
Kirk paced restlessly as his crew worked. Spock's control of the pain was weakening, but he did not inform the Vulcan knowing how deeply his friend was concentrating on the alien technology. If anyone could uncover its secrets quickly, it would be the best First Officer in the Fleet. He breathed deeply, attempting his own form of pain-management, and finally settled onto the floor and clasped his knees to his chest.
Uhura knelt beside him, her eyes full of concern as she studied him. "Captain, are you all right?"
He roused himself to smile at her. "Yes, I'll be fine, just resting. Help Mr. Spock as much as possible. He is under great strain."
"Yes, sir. I know his use of telepathy to search for you has exhausted him."
Kirk grimaced. "He's still using it to ease my pain. Uhura, watch over him, for I can't."
Uhura's eyes widened with awe, but she rapidly overcame it and obeyed her captain's order. Kirk smiled as he watched her protective and supportive stance beside the science officer, and relieved by the calm efficiency of his crew as they worked, he allowed his head to rest on his knees. His people were all specialists in their respective fields. They would find the answers.
He closed his eyes knowing that his duty lay in easing the burden from Spock as much as possible; it was the only assistance he could give at present. If he interfered it would hinder any progress. They did not need to be diverted by caring for their injured captain. When he was needed, they would inform him.
None heard or saw the Klingons enter the room from a sliding panel directly behind Kirk's slumped form. Kazal was upon the Human in a moment, disarming and trapping him in a vice-like grip. Three other Klingons flanked them. Too late, the Enterprise security men turned to face the intruders, and Kazal laughed maliciously, pointing the tip of his disruptor at Kirk's forehead.
"One move and he dies," he threatened. "Throw your weapons over here."
Jim. Spock worriedly sent along the link along with the regretful realisation that his concentration had slipped, allowing Kirk to suffer too much pain and be so easily captured.
It's not your fault, Kirk reassured, staring at Spock anxiously.
As his arm was brutally twisted up his back, Kirk could not restrain his gasp nor the spread of the agony through the link. Spock's horror swept into him, but it quickly dissolved and was replaced with a tightening hold on the pain. Kirk sighed, soaking in the easing touch. His thoughts tumbled rapidly around his brain, searching for some solution to their problems and a possible answer presented itself. Immediately he projected it to the Vulcan with all the will power at his disposal.
Spock blinked, partly raised his left eyebrow, then straightened and looked Kazal in the eye. "Release him or we all die."
The Klingon commander frowned. "What do you mean, Vulcan?" he asked in a voice dripping with contempt.
"I have learned how to operate this transporter. It has been re-calibrated to transfer us to the Enterprise. However, I have also prepared a delayed action explosion to take place in exactly five point five minutes."
Kazal's expression was full of disdain. "Impossible, Vulcan. It took Klingon scientists three days to work out these alien machines."
Spock raised his chin. He stood proud and tall, the very picture of Vulcan superiority. "I am a Vulcan. I am science officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise. My knowledge far surpasses any Klingon's. To a Vulcan, scientific expertise is life itself. It is my heritage. This complex will be destroyed in exactly five minutes. Vulcans are always precise, always accurate."
Kazal tightened his hold on his bruised and aching captive. "You lie," he spat.
"Vulcans never lie," Spock replied calmly. "At this very moment there is a fleet of ships en-route to this planet. You are encroaching on Federation space, Commander."
Kirk was filled with complete and utter delight at his friend's bluffing. Well done, Spock, he encouraged.
"Release him then I will deactivate the explosive device," Spock continued.
"No, you do not bargain with me. I give the orders here. Deactivate it, then I will release your Captain. If you do not, I will kill him."
Kirk felt the Vulcan's resolve waver at the threat. Spock, don't give in, he won't keep to any bargain.
"The Captain is expendable; as we all are," Spock said, with renewed strength, carefully not looking at Kirk. "If you do not release him, we all die. Humans, Vulcan and... Klingons." He folded his arms across his chest. "The choice is yours."
Kazal's face twisted into an ugly mask. "HeD. Ha'. nom," he barked at his men. With a snarl he hurled Kirk towards his former prisoners and hastily retreated, slipping behind the open panel which slid shut after him.
Kirk was caught in strong arms. He grasped onto Spock for support, breathing raggedly, his heart thumping violently in his chest. "Spock can we get out of here?" he asked. His legs trembled, but he forced his body to obey his commands, managed to take his own weight and stood.
"Affirmative. We have traced the Enterprise. In a few minutes it will be possible to beam aboard."
Kirk smiled with real pride in his friend. "Well done, Spock." He glanced around, taking in everyone. "All of you."
Galloway stepped forward. "Sir, we should have detected the Klingon's arrival, we... "
Kirk shook his head. "It's all right. You were not to know about the hidden entrance," he reassured.
The tension drained from the two security men, but their words of thanks were interrupted by Uhura. "Captain, the Klingons are activating their transporter. Sir, they are evacuating the complex."
Kirk laughed. "Well, the whole galaxy believes that Vulcans cannot lie. There's no point in enlightening them, is there, Mr. Spock?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I spoke no untruth, sir. Vulcans do not lie. However I am half-human, a fact Kazal did not know, or did not consider."
The humans could not restrain their mirth at that statement. "Well, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, "whether it was the human or Vulcan part of you that lied and bluffed is irrelevant. Kazal believed you." A mischievous grin spread over the bruised face. "And - you certainly blew your own trumpet very convincingly."
Everyone awaited the expected response and were not disappointed as two slanted brows rose almost into the black, shiny hair. "Blew my own trumpet, sir?"
"I'll explain later," Kirk replied with a chuckle. "Now can we get out of here?"
It was a very startled Mr. Kyle who reported to Mr. Scott some minutes later that the abducted bridge crew had suddenly materialised in the Transporter Room, despite the fact that ship's shields were still in place.
"Scotty, " Kirk inquired as soon as he reached the comm-link, "what are the Klingons doing?"
"They just warped out of orbit," came the welcome reply.
"Good, maintain alert. We called their bluff but they may only be retreating to a safe distance. We stay right here until reinforcements arrive. I'm on my way to the bridge."
"Captain, you need medical attention," Spock protested.
Kirk looked at him and decided that it would be impossible to fool someone who still monitored and exerted pain control over him. "I know. We all need rest, but Starfleet will send other ships to protect this world, they won't want such advanced technology falling into Klingon hands. In the meantime we have to remain vigilant."
They turned at the sound of the doors opening. McCoy hurried in, took one look at Kirk and said, "Others can command, Jim. Sickbay for you." He passed his mediscanner over the Captain's body, frowning as he saw the readings.
"Bones," Kirk protested.
"I will send the report, Captain," Spock said. "Please go with the Doctor."
About to argue, Kirk stopped the words before he could utter them when he sensed Spock's silent discomfort. It was then he realised the toll that the constant monitoring was taking on the Vulcan, and he bent his head for a moment as a pang of guilt at his selfishness overcame him.
I'm sorry, my friend. I'll go, he sent silently.
The answer came in a wave of gratitude. Kirk smiled and permitted McCoy to lead him out. He was not indestructible and neither was Spock, a fact he too often forgot or ignored.
With resignation he accepted medical treatment, and when Spock came to Sickbay to report that the Klingons had been chased to the Neutral Zone by the U.S.S. Excalibur, he finally relaxed, aware that the imminent danger was over.
"I don't know how to thank you for your help," he said clasping a blue-clad arm.
Spock treated him to one of his almost-smiles. "If not for your determination, courage and quick thinking, we could not have survived, Jim."
"You give me too much credit, Spock."
"No, Jim."
"Well. I don't see it quite that way," Kirk countered. " All I can think of is the way you reached my mind, how you bolstered my strength and eased my pain."
"My privilege, Jim." the Vulcan insisted.
Kirk stared up at the unique individual who regarded him so highly, humbled that he could inspire loyalty and devotion in such a person.
"Rest now, Jim."
He nodded. "Yes, I will." But as Spock turned around to leave, Kirk added, "Rest also, Spock."
The Vulcan bowed courteously. "If it is your wish."
Kirk smiled. "It is."
"Then I must comply, " Spock replied, his eyes warm with affection.
Kirk stretched out comfortably as his friend left the room. Another mission had been safely completed, there had been no casualties this time and he was immensely grateful for that. Although badly hurt from Kazal's brutality, Kirk knew he would recover. His worst injuries were healing and in a few days he would be discharged from Sickbay.
Sighing deeply, he allowed sleep to overtake him. In his dreams he relived the touch of another mind in his, protecting, soothing, strengthening at all times. The sensation was reassuring and he was content. Loneliness held no meaning in the depths of the mind-link; it lost its powerful hold when Spock melded with him.
One day - perhaps - there would be no barriers. No more isolation for either of them. In a remote corner of his unique, unorthodox and lonely mind, Kirk wistfully hoped that day might soon arrive.
*This is a rewritten version of the story which won 1st. prize in the 'Outpost' fiction competition - general category in 1992.