Sacrifices
The words of Dr Marcus are final. There is no way to stop the Genesis torpedo
It takes but a split second to make my decision.
In truth there is no other choice.
There is one remote chance to save my ship, my cadets, and my friends.
"We need warp speed in three minutes," Jim says.
Such a short time.
He sits on the command chair, arms tightly clasped around his chest, and knowing for certain that this time he has not beaten the odds. His famous luck has run out.
Not if I have anything to do with it. I will not permit the deaths of those I hold dear even if it demands the ultimate sacrifice from me.
Knowing that Jim's almost empathic awareness of my presence can thwart my plan, I endeavour to cover my movements, using long unused Vulcan powers. As long as it is possible for me to maintain the deception, he will believe that I remain on the bridge.
I leave and if any other note my departure they do not question.
I reach Engineering and am intercepted by McCoy. Foolish human. Does he not realise that I am no longer the naive young Vulcan of the five-year mission? I have learned to interact with my mother's people, the most devious species in the known galaxy, and I was taught the art of bluff by a master.
McCoy slumps to the ground. No human can withstand the nerve pinch.
A wave of remorse hits me but I push it aside. There is too much at stake. The lives of everyone aboard depend on my next actions yet the call of Vulcan is too strong and I instinctively initiate the correct procedure before the body's death. My katra recoils, for the mind of even this close friend is not compatible. He who should have received it, sits on the bridge, awaiting the destruction of the Enterprise, unaware that I have left his side. There is no time for regrets. I force my katra's compliance and it begins its journey.
I enter the chamber. The deadly energies begin their devastation of my body but I ignore the rising pain. All that exists for me is the knowledge that I must succeed for the many precious lives at stake.
Khan, you shall not destroy them.
The next minutes drag by. I do not allow myself to fail.
The mind rules. There is no pain. What folly! The Vulcan Masters have never experienced such agony. What do they know of pain?
Now it is done and I collapse to the ground. My eyes grow dim and I reach out to touch the walls. Their solidity reassures me. The ship is still around me. I am blind that is all. That is nothing new.
A vivid memory overcomes me and I almost break down as I recall the warmth of Jim's compassion as he supported me in my sudden blindness. So many years ago. He will never be with me again.
"Spock," his agonised cry pierces me.
I cannot bear his pain. Somehow, I must reassure him. Drawing on my reserves, I force my pain-wracked body to its feet, automatically straightening my uniform jacket, and follow the sound of his voice until the duraglass walls stop me.
I sense the start of horror from him as he becomes aware of my blindness.
My eyes are irrevocably damaged yet how is it possible for me to see his face? I almost smile at the vision. He is so youthful. He wears a gold shirt with braid, denoting his rank, on the sleeves. His ready smile and boyish charm hide a complex being. A man who is a born leader whom all are willing to follow unto death if necessary. Even I - the unemotional Vulcan - am captured by his charismatic personality.
This human with his generous and wholehearted acceptance of me, has changed my life and enriched it beyond measure. I am privileged to have been his friend.
His shock penetrates my agony and I reach out to soothe him.
The mind rules. There is no pain.
Foolish hopes yet it begins to recede. If I could but touch him I could ease his hurt as I have done so many times in the past.
I try to speak. "Ship out of danger?" The effort is too much for me.
He assures me that I have succeeded.
A strange peace flows through me. I beg him not to grieve but know he will do so. "The needs of the many outweigh...." A stinging wave of agony stops my words. I attempt to control but am but partially successful.
"...the needs of the few," he prompts me.
"...or the one." I force past my constricted throat.
His pain is palpable and I attempt to lighten the mood. Tease as he has taught me. "I never took the Kobayashi Maru until now. What do you think of my solution?"
It only serves to increase his anguish.
As my control slips, I slump to the ground. His agonised call rouses me and I try to straighten my shoulders. Time is short now. I press my hand against the wall, my fingers paired in the Vulcan salute. Before it is too late, I must speak of my eternal loyalty to him.
"I have been and always shall be your friend. Live long and prosper."
I sense the movement as his fingers reach for mine. In my last moment of life I regret being unable to physically touch, a human form of comfort, perhaps even a Vulcan one.
My katra has almost departed from this body. There is no more time left.
Farewell, Jim.
***
Wrenching pain. I float until an unrelenting force captures me. I struggle but it is impossible to resist its pull and I am drawn to the source.
Fear of the unknown turns to acceptance as I realise that which calls me is the essence of myself implanted so hurriedly in McCoy's mind. I retreat within his thoughts, causing disturbance and deep stress. Sometimes, as if in a dream, I see Jim's face and know I have been talking to him. I am unsure if my attempts to urge him, through McCoy, to take me to Vulcan have been successful.
Looking through alien eyes, I have seen a bar, a security area, the Enterprise, a lush planet and a Klingon Bird of Prey. Perhaps they have been true perceptions but I have also seen my own body. Surely this is a hallucination caused by my residence in this highly emotional human mind?
I withdraw into myself to escape the pressure of the intense emotion around me and know only an endless time spent in a grey featureless void.
Surely this is death.
***
My eyes open.
My eyes open!
"Father, this is impossible. I am dead!"
His eyes are warmer than I have ever seen them. "No, my son. Your body was regenerated on the Genesis planet. You have undergone Fal Tor Pan."
He informs me of the details surrounding my rebirth. The story he tells is one of heroism and sacrifice by the humans who await us below. I am confused. I do not remember my long career in Starfleet nor those who served with me, but something tells me that I must.
"No matter, my child," my father says. "You will remember in time."
As instructed I follow the Masters. As I pass the group of humans I am acutely aware of their intense emotions. It is painful. I stop, however, and waves of hope penetrate my shaky defences.
What strange, uncontrolled beings these humans are.
They interest me and I turn, walk back and study them one by one. I sense that I should know them. They gaze at me with their feelings plainly written on their faces. What was I to them that they should care so?
One stands apart. I stare into his familiar face. His eyes glisten with tears and I am unhappy in the knowledge that it is I who has caused his pain. Unable to bear it, I am forced to speak. "My father says you have been my friend. You came back for me."
"You would have done the same for me," he replies with an utter conviction that further confuses me.
"Why would you do this?" I ask.
"The needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many," he answers, his eyes never leaving me.
I turn away. I am totally bewildered.
A mental cry jars me. Spock....
As if a door has opened in my mind I see his face, so young and eager, as he materialises on the transporter pad on the day he takes command of the Enterprise. I recall his understanding when Pon Far strikes me and his selflessness in taking me to Vulcan; the moment I 'kill' him and when he appears, alive and well, in sickbay. The memories begin to crowd in on me and it is difficult to separate one from the other.
I force them aside. "I have been and ever shall be your friend," I need to tell him.
"Yes, Spock. Yes," he says, his eyes glowing.
"Ship out of danger?" I asked him. I was confused. What does that question mean?
"You saved the ship. You saved us all. Don't you remember?" he prompted.
Then it hit me in an exhilarating blaze of knowledge. "Jim... Your name is Jim." My certainty in this pleases me.
"Yes," he replies, his face lightening in a delighted and affectionate smile.
This bewilders me further and I turn sideways to meet the eyes of my other friend - he who held my katra safe. With a mischievous grin, he taps his forehead. What does this gesture mean? Humans. Who can understand them? I face Jim once more and stare long and intently at him. His aura radiates with happiness. His thoughts reach mine and they transmit hope and joy. I bask in their happiness. The others crowd round me and I do not mind their touch.
I raise an eyebrow at Jim and he grins. It is a human characteristic impossible to understand but I welcome its warmth, It tells me that I am wanted in the lives of these very special people.
I am Spock of Vulcan.
I am Spock of Terra.
I am a son of both Vulcan and Terra.
I have returned home and I live again.