EMPIRE

Note:Kirk,Spock in different font denotes mirror characters

i

Captain James T. Kirk of the I.S.S. Enterprise laughed with unadulterated glee at the sight of his two prisoners. He had encountered this Spock before and the humiliation suffered at those alien hands still rankled him. But this other Kirk, this soft double who had taken his place, subverting his Spock was his main interest. He grinned widely, enjoying the sensation of absolute power over the two men standing on the platform, caught in his trap, and surrounded by ten armed security men.

"Fire," he snapped, noting with satisfaction how a muscle on his counterpart's jaw twitched.

The human and Vulcan turned to meet one another's eyes. Kirk saw the small, lopsided smile on the identical face, and the answering softening of Vulcan features before both officers crumpled to the ground under the force of the heavy stunning beams from Farrell and Joseph's phasers. If he had thought to scare them with a show of strength, his ploy had been unsuccessful.

"Take them to the brig," he ordered angrily. "Put them in with that Vulcan traitor."

Farrell looked at him in confusion, but the guard did not hesitate in ordering his men to lift the prone figures. Kirk walked from the transporter room without a backward glance, strode along the access corridor and into the lift. He ordered it to deck 5 and, once underway, he clenched and slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. He had wanted that Kirk scared, wanted to see him cower, but instead the other had mocked him with that smile on his too-handsome face. Damn him!

Kirk knew that this other had responded to the threat of death in exactly the way he would have, with total unconcern and a show of bravado. Yet this Kirk was weaker than he. How was it possible for him to react in the same manner? And the Vulcan - that mild, peaceable scientist standing at his captain's side - had almost smiled! Not wishing to concede that he was dealing with men of exceptional bravery, Kirk sneered, exited the lift and headed for his quarters.

He eagerly activated the Tantalus Field, its sensors already keyed to Spock's location, and the brig shimmered onto the screen. The Vulcan was sitting cross-legged on one of the bunks, eyes closed, breathing steady, his demeanour that of one who was completely at ease. Kirk had seen him like this only once before, vulnerable to attack, in deep meditation.

A raw ache gnawed at the pit of the human's stomach as he remembered the time he and his first officer had been trapped by the Klingon terrorist, Kor. Spock had saved his life by rescuing him from the nightmarish torture of the mind-sifter. The two of them had hidden in a cave until Farrell and Sorav's teams had found them. During that time the Vulcan had revealed something of his background and had shown trust in his captain by entering a meditative state while Kirk kept watch. The warm memory of those hours of companionship and relaxation in one another's company had always remained something to be treasured in his most private thoughts.

Kirk savagely thrust the memory aside. His anticipation mounted; a deep, satisfying pleasure, an exciting sensation which he thoroughly enjoyed. Any moment now and the quiet meditation would be rudely interrupted. He grinned as the alien eyes opened at the commotion created when the two prisoners were thrown into the cell, and sniggered on seeing the shock on the normally impassive features.

"Oh, yes, my traitorous Vulcan, you'll pay," he crooned. "You'll all pay... "

ii.

Spock watched as the guards left, then drew on relaxation techniques and stared down at the two men sprawled upon the floor. It was impossible to repress his inward shudder as he realised the identity of those who now shared his prison. He moved across the cell and, with infinite care, bent to lift the alternate captain and then the Vulcan onto the bunks. He touched the human's wrist, relieved when he felt the erratic pulse beat. He arranged the tousled head more comfortably against the pillow, then studied the features of this dynamic being who - in a few short hours - had changed his life.

A deep sympathy for the plight of this compassionate analogue of his captain filled his hybrid soul. The human's life would be worth less than nothing now that Kirk had him in his power, yet his captain had to have some part of the counterpart's nature under that savage exterior. Spock had glimpsed it on rare occasions. Perhaps that inner person could be reached. If Kirk could perceive how charismatic his double was, he too might be persuaded to listen to reason.

The fool! cried Spock in silence. He could scarcely believe Kirk's temerity in bringing these counterparts through. Scheming, vicious, cunning, selfish were all descriptions that fitted the human but Kirk had never been stupid before.

He turned his attention to the Vulcan, and drew a deep breath on seeing the uncanny resemblance. He studied the smooth-skinned face, noting that its youthfulness was caused by more than the lack of facial hair. There was an innocence which made him, not so much a counterpart from another universe but like the younger sibling he had never known.

Spock drew on all of his reserves of Vulcan control. Kirk would be spying on them through the Tantalus Field. Marlena had described the device to him during the brief minutes before the transference between universes had taken place. He would not allow his captain any advantage over him, not even a glimpse of the raging emotions within. He wondered at the motive for kidnapping these two; it was not difficult to deduce how it had been achieved. Obviously, the ion storm had disrupted the equilibrium of the electromagnetic field separating the universes. The phaser attacks on Halka had further disturbed it, creating a fissure in the fabric of space, allowing a tightly focussed transporter beam to penetrate to the other side.

The implications were frightening. Spock, with his scientific knowledge and training, knew only too well what damage Kirk's petty revenge might have done to the stability of the two universes. There would have been massive destruction on the other Halka with earthquakes of immense proportions. It was even possible that a chain reaction would engulf both universes as a result of this one man's vengeance. No-one knew enough about the cosmos. Space held infinite mysteries. Those were the reasons he had pleaded with his family to be allowed to serve on a starship.

Even as a young child, the stars had called him. He had become one of the most celebrated scientists of his generation, not because of family connections but on his own merit. In the end they had been unable to refuse him, for his persistence and his talents were too great. With the blessing of his great-grandmother, T'Pau, and his grandfather, Emperor Demetrius, he had been permitted to join Starfleet. Every possible precaution had been taken for his welfare. Only the most trusted members of the Admiralty - all members of his Vulcan or human families - knew his identity. All his operatives on the ship were personally sworn to his service with McCoy, his extra safeguard in case of extreme emergency. However, the incident with Pike had highlighted his vulnerability to attack and he had fought against the intense pressure to return and work on Vulcan. His logical arguments on remaining had narrowly won but his number of operatives had been increased. Kirk by those actions of saving his life, and promoting him to first officer was considered a better risk than the previous captain. The young Terran's exceptional tolerance of alien life was a further point in his favour. Now, Spock seriously questioned that view. Kirk was highly dangerous, moreso than Pike had ever been.

Spock sat on the bunk beside his twin, pressed a hand against the sweat-covered forehead and wondered about the other's background. The Vulcan would regain consciousness soon, his body in shock due to the heavy stun used upon him. Kirk must not suspect, but Spock had to communicate urgently with his alternate; he owed him a warning.

He moved to the tiny washroom, dampened a towel and returned. He dabbed the identical face and, under cover from the material casually draped across the prone figure, pressed his forefinger and index finger to the other's. He knew instinctively that this being, although born in an alien universe, was closer to him than anyone else would ever be. Kirk - ignorant of such matters - would not know that a Vulcan could commune telepathically this way with a member of his family

Spock, he called, exerting gentle pressure on the dazed mind. Spock, he repeated as the glimmer of returning consciousness emerged from the darkness. Keep your eyes closed. Trust me, I only wish to help.

Who? came the uncertain response.

You are a prisoner of your captain's counterpart, Spock replied. Be still. I ask pardon for entering your mind without permission, but there was no other choice. It is not an activity that we Vulcans - even in this universe - normally indulge in.

The other, shocked to awareness, reacted strongly and caught those thoughts in an unbreakable hold. Jim... Where is Jim?

Spock tensed within the other's telepathic grip. He had never before been held by a force equal to his own. His Vulcan abilities surpassed even the strongest full-blood male, a distinction which had perplexed his teachers. Instinctively he prepared to repel the unusual threat, but the remembrance that the one who held him was another Spock dampened his urge to retaliate, and he forced himself not to react.

He is here, but still suffers the effects of the stun. He will recover shortly. I must give you warning, we are being watched. My captain spies on us through the Tantalus Field. He can kill with it, if he so desires. He plots revenge. On his return from your universe he murdered all my known operatives and imprisoned me. He seethes with hatred because I was convinced by your captain of the rightness of change. I could not persuade him to join me in reforming the policies of the Terran Empire. I was foolish to think that he might be converted. I should have taken your Kirk's advice to seize command of this ship.

Pain filled the link as Spock allowed himself to absorb all that had occurred since Kirk had returned. He struggled to cope with the unnerving experience, but the intensity of the hurt only increased. Without realisation of what was happening he sank deeply into the psyche of his twin, relaxing into the accepting warmth of the familiar patterns. The ache slowly eased as pleasure infiltrated his senses at the beauty, the profound togetherness, of the joining of their thoughts. He had melded many times during his life but none had reached the level he now experienced, as this Vulcan from the universe of light invited him to share companionship and knowledge in the ancient way of t'hy'la. Like a starving man who had not even known of his hunger, Spock immersed himself in satisfying his need for the incomparable euphoria of joining with a compatible mind.

His hands continued to dab Spock's face with the towel but inwardly he was learning of the parallel universe, and life-history of his double. In return he revealed his own background and could not conceal his amusement at the open, unvulcanly amazement in the other's thoughts.

Fascinating. You are a prince of two empires! I am merely a scientist and son of prominent Vulcan and human families, not royalty.

Spock's amusement almost spilled over into outright laughter. In this universe, there are no Romulans. The clans did not split from us and are still Vulcans of the Empire.

In mine, they are enemies of the Federation, Spock replied, as are the Klingons. Your Terran Empire must have immense military resources to have destroyed the Klingon homeworlds.

Indeed, the humans have adhered to a martial philosophy for centuries, Spock replied. It is truly fascinating to meet you.

I am honoured, the other replied.

I like you, Spock sent a warmth-filled tendril of feeling into the double's mind.

Logical, as you and I are one person, the twin replied.

Indeed. Spock withdrew slightly, shielding his inner thoughts from the eager curiosity of this innocent. We are one, but there are many differences between us. I have blood on my hands. Your goodness makes me ashamed. A heavy feeling oppressed him as memories of the many evil deeds he had perpetrated returned to haunt him.

Spock, the gentle mind-voice chided him. You have seen the error of your ways. Jim has touched your soul, as he did mine. You have placed yourself in jeopardy by your actions. You are to be admired.

Spock was swept by emotions not experienced since the day his sehlat had died. The gut-wrenching ache caused by his beloved childhood pet's death was now felt at the absence of something he had never known. You and he are t'hy'la. Thee are blessed, his mind whispered.

Indeed. The bond of t'hy'la is rare even in my universe, Spock answered.

Unknown in mine, except as legend. I envy you but am pleased you have found such a friend. A flash of warning shot through the meld. Never allow Kirk to know. He would use it against you. He is not like your captain; he is ruthless and knows only the use of terror. Perhaps once he was different, more like...

Spock trailed off as the memory of his rescue by that younger Kirk surfaced in vivid detail. Bitter regret at what might have been, burned like acid in his mind. He brought you here for a purpose. Do not trust him. I fear for your captain. We must endeavour to protect him.

The other's inner smile trickled through the meld. Jim affects all who come into contact with him. He is unique. His charisma is most powerful.

I have cause to know that, Spock said ruefully. He has changed my life.

Suddenly, he felt a tension in the other's body and knew the reason with a surety which was undeniable. The human was struggling to consciousness. The bond between these alternates was vibrating with distress. He marvelled at the experience. To actually feel the pull of a joining known to him only as a vague, mystic legend of ancient times!

I will tend to him, he offered.

NO, Spock protested sharply. It is my duty.

Spock reluctantly conceded remembering from the other's memories, the human's fear of even his own Vulcan after the incidents in this universe. Jim had to be very carefully briefed on his current predicament, something only his t'hy'la could do. Very well but take care. Remember we are being watched.

He sat back, removed the towel and waited until the dark brown eyes opened to meet his own. "You are in the brig of the ISS Enterprise," he said aloud for the benefit of the watcher in his lonely cabin. "We are all prisoners of Captain Kirk."

Spock stared up at him, raised an eyebrow, and then slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. "You are he - my counterpart. Fascinating."

"Indeed," he replied. "I am positive that your captain has informed you of my existence."

"Indeed, he was most impressed by your beard," the other commented.

Spock raised a curious brow, but did not question the odd remark. He rubbed at the soft hairs of the carefully tended beard, tilted his head and watched the actions of his interesting counterpart.

iii.

Spock swung his legs from the bunk, moved over to sit by Jim and touched the glistening forehead. He remembered his double's cautionary words and with that Vulcan's knowledge of his captain, plus his own unpleasant experiences with the savage human, was careful not to place his fingers anywhere near the telepathic contact points. It was difficult to restrain himself from reaching out to reassure his t'hy'la, but Jim would recognise his touch and perhaps understand the warning he was attempting to transmit.

The human stirred. "Spock?" The hoarse voice was raw with pain. "What happened?"

An empire phaser at the highest stun setting was an instrument of torture. Unlike its Federation equivalent the weapon was intended to cause maximum discomfort. Spock had gleaned this information from his counterpart's knowledge and, with a sense of dread, he knew that the human would be disorientated, shivery, and possibly violently sick. Even he - a Vulcan - still felt the effects.

He clasped Kirk's right hand between his own, rubbing briskly, pressing his fingertips to his t'hy'la's for long seconds, feeling the familiar tingle of their bond of friendship ignite, spreading itself through nerves, sweeping along at lightning speed until it reached their minds. With deep relief he began to relax as non-verbal contact was established and, placing the now warm hand upon the bed, lifted the other and proceeded to give that the same treatment.

Jim, he tried to send along the link but with a psi-null human, despite the compatibility and the close friendship they shared, it was impossible to communicate this way.

He concentrated hard, and clearly sensed Jim's emotions. From the days of their earliest acquaintance a connection had sparked between them. With uncanny intuition Jim had always understood him. Spock had always known when the human was in distress. He had often wondered about it and could only surmise that the bond had formed spontaneously, without his awareness or conscious consent, as was told in the ancient tales of Vulcan's past. Two minds drawn together, their differences combining to create strength, meaning and beauty. IDIC.

Jim, he called with all of his strength. T'hy'la.

Spock... t'hy'la. The reply was weak but audible.

Spock almost gasped with joy as Jim again proved him wrong about the impossible. Do not be alarmed by whom you see. He is a friend. But be cautious, we are under surveillance. He heard the faint acknowledgement and relaxed slightly. "Captain," he said aloud. "Wake up."

He continued to rub at the cold hand, giving more than body warmth to his friend. Steady reassurance designed to facilitate recovery from the effects of the stun force seeped from Vulcan fingertips through the cool skin into Kirk's tense body until large, hazel eyes slowly opened to meet his. Spock nodded fractionally, received an almost imperceptible reply, and then helped his captain to sit up. Kirk stretched his legs out and softly groaned. It would only take a minute for the numbness to subside, but it would be extremely uncomfortable for a human to endure.

Spock allowed him a short recovery period then, knowing there was no logic in delaying the inevitable, stood up and cleared his throat. "Captain, we are not alone."

"Who?" Kirk asked, looking up at him.

Spock allowed his features to soften slightly, then he moved aside. "May I present Commander Spock of the I.S.S. Enterprise."

iv.

All Jim's bodily discomfort was forgotten at those words. He gulped nervously as the bearded Vulcan, dark head bowed respectfully, appeared in his line of vision

"Greetings, Captain Kirk," the harsh, yet familiar voice said. "I had not expected to have the honour of meeting you again."

His initial fear of the Vulcan still remained and his reply was curt. "Nor I you, Commander."

Spock raised an eyebrow, and that oh-so-typical gesture suddenly warmed Kirk to him. If his t'hy'la said that the counterpart was a friend, then he had to believe it. Yet had he not always known that to be true? This Spock had helped them return home. This Spock was a prisoner too. Jim had no doubt why the Vulcan was here and knew exactly who was responsible. Not the Kirk of this universe, but himself. Those idealistic parting words had persuaded one who had been a servant of this brutal empire to change the habits of a lifetime in an attempt to end the oppression.

It was not difficult to surmise the outcome. Instead of taking command of this Enterprise, Spock through loyalty to his captain had not incarcerated nor killed him. Instead he had tried to persuade the man to join his cause. Jim was hardly surprised once he remembered the warning the Vulcan had given him of Starfleet's orders, and Marlena's admiring words. 'You'll never find another man like him.'

Spock was still Spock in any universe - always loyal to his Captain.

"What went wrong?" he asked.

Spock clasped his hands behind his back, adopting the same stance as his counterpart. Jim almost smiled, despite the grim circumstances of their imprisonment. Two of them! What an amazing sight!

"My captain is a man of strong convictions. He would not listen to me. He does not wish to be a rebel. He killed my guards and arrested me. I have no power on the Enterprise anymore. I am subject to his will." The bearded Vulcan halted for a moment and looked towards the doorway. "He knows my loyalty to him remains unchanged."

Jim exchanged a worried glance with his t'hy'la. The alternate-Kirk was only too familiar to them both, for they had seen shades of him years ago on their own Enterprise. However, they knew that the integrated person in this universe, dominated by the ruthless aspects of his nature, was far more dangerous than the negative side of himself. There would be none of the weaknesses shown by that incomplete half of his personality. Yet, Marlena had recognised and sought the man she once loved. Was it possible?

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the bearded Vulcan. "Captain Kirk, the ship has left orbit. You are trapped in this universe. It is regrettable that the damage to the barrier allowed the inter-dimensional transportation to be successful. I would deduce from the state of your apparel that your Halka was affected by the phaser barrage from this side."

Jim nodded wearily. He struggled to his feet, careful not to show exactly how much the effort of standing hurt him. He clenched his fists, straightened his back and lifted his chin, determined to retain his dignity in front of the unseen watcher. Spock's presence supplied the extra strength as his support enfolded him despite the lack of physical contact.

"Spock will tell you about the earthquake and the deaths of Halkan children," he said bitterly. "I'm going to clean up."

He entered the tiny washroom, not daring to relax his guard in case he was under observation even here. The facilities were basic but welcome and feeling decidedly better, he returned to the Vulcans. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and, looking up at the two pairs of dark, brown eyes upon him, could not help but smile. "If only Bones could see this sight!" he exclaimed jokingly.

"Indeed", Spock replied, rising to the bait. "The comments of the good doctor would surely offend even Vulcan ears."

Kirk laughed, delighted at Spock's response to the teasing banter. He knew that they both needed the sense of normality it brought to their shocked systems. "I thought Vulcans had no emotions, Spock. How can they be offended?"

"I was speaking figuratively, Captain," Spock replied, folding his arms across his chest in the distinctive way he used when portraying Vulcan innocence.

Kirk almost forgot the danger they were in as he teased his friend for a further few minutes until the intense gaze of the other Vulcan, curiosity showing openly in his dark eyes, stopped any further words. He shivered slightly under the hypnotic stare.

v.

The first officer of the I.S.S. was confused. He lowered his gaze in embarrassment. That he could feel such emotions further perplexed him. He had sensed Spock's deeply hidden feelings during the meld, and had absorbed the profound regard and loyalty his counterpart held for Kirk. Now, as they bantered as if safe aboard their own ship, he clearly saw the chemistry between them . It was certainly a cover for their fear, but he was impressed by the attunement they shared. He trained all of his psionic senses on them, drawing on childhood lessons in an effort to understand the elusive quality of their rapport.

All sentient beings emitted an aura but only those with exceptional empathic abilities could sense them. A minor part of Spock's training in the psi-arts had been in aura-reading and he had used the skill on occasion as a guide in detecting enemies. Now in retrospect, he realised that the unease he had felt when Kirk and his landing party were brought here had been his subliminal awareness that his own captain's aura was missing. He chastised himself for his neglect. He should have been able to ascertain that Kirk had not returned from Halka. His own counterpart had easily discovered the impostors on his ship.

If he had placed his captain under scrutiny after the return from the other universe perhaps all of these distasteful events could have been avoided. He recalled the incident in Kirk's quarters. The weaker human, held immobile by vulcanoid strength, had known exactly how to free himself using that easy, dangerous charm and disarming smile to lull him into believing that words of treason would be considered.

He quickly repressed those thoughts. He would not allow a human to possess such power over a prince of royal blood. Yet deep within his soul he knew that Kirk, the man who had saved his life, the hidden, gentler being who so rarely surfaced in the hard, embittered, all-powerful captain had captured his loyalty. A tentative friendship had formed between them which could - under other circumstances - become what he now saw before him in these fascinating alternates.

The auras surrounding the two officers were palpable to Spock's heightened awareness as he drew on untapped resources to define their meanings. This Kirk and Spock were t'hy'la, a phenomenon unknown in this time and place, and he was eager to understand it, to check its authenticity, to learn all that he could about the bond known only as myth in this universe. He forced back his envy of his counterpart's good fortune in being part of such a relationship.

He breathed deeply, focussing on the shimmering fields now swirling visibly around the two men. He saw the golden haze of the human blend with the blue mist of the Vulcan creating a rich, jade green. He forgot to draw breath as the beauty of the sight overcame him and he struggled to hide his awe at this proof of the legendary bond that had been honoured in song and verse by the bards of ancient times.

The human in command gold, his natural aura-colour, shone brilliantly in a blaze of glory. Radiant, volatile, courageous, a natural leader, but glowing with compassion and love of life. The Vulcan in science blue, his true aural colour, the icy hue denoting cool intellect, reason and logic. Yet within its perfect sheen a kaleidoscope of shapes blended and shifted creating a rich azure, revealing the warmth and affection of the inner being.

Spock gasped aloud at the sharp pain in his chest as he fought to force air into his lungs. He - a prince of two empires - was as poor as the humblest slave compared to his counterpart.

"Are you unwell?" the object of his envy asked with concern.

He shook his head. Merely sick with jealousy, his mind supplied.

The human moved to his side and he knew he had shown emotion to these discerning t'hy'la, yet he was not ashamed. They were as he and Kirk might have been, should have been, and he had nothing to hide from them. This man - his captain as was meant to be - had in a few, short minutes changed his outlook on life, causing him to question the universe which had spawned him.

Being honest with himself, Spock knew that he had always disliked the rule of terror. The Vulcan Commonwealth of Planets tolerated it as the only way to remain at peace with the war-loving humans, but now he wondered if it would be possible to sway Vulcan and her allies to the paths of reason then teach the humans a better way.

He thought of his grandfather, the Emperor. A kind man but one so used to the trappings of power that he allowed his minions to rule by force. Starfleet used its mighty weapons to subjugate entire planets, and terrorise any world which attempted revolt. But space was too vast to control. Starfleet could not enforce the will of the Cabinet everywhere. The Empire was doomed. Civilisation would be destroyed as world after world struggled to break the yoke of oppression. The Vulcan Commonwealth of Planets would survive but the humans could revert to barbarism. A dark age might descend on their section of the galaxy perhaps never to lift..

A soft voice called his name. A strong grip on his arm forced his attention away from his unsettling thoughts and he blinked as he found himself looking into the depths of familiar hazel eyes.

No, not familiar. These eyes were not hard with cunning but soft and expressive, filled with worry. I am not his friend, yet he is concerned for me, the Vulcan thought with amazement. Kirk smiled slightly, and Spock knew that again he was revealing too much to this perceptive human. I am the Prince of two Empires, yet I would give it all up to be my counterpart.

"Captain," he responded, the word escaping his throat in a hoarse whisper.

"All this is my fault," the human said. "I've brought you nothing but trouble. I'm sorry."

Spock shook his head. This Kirk had not caused the problem; it was his own weakness in not taking command. "No," he replied. "The fault is not yours, but mine. I succumbed to a human weakness called hope and did not kill him. I should have known better. His background has hardened him to the cruelty we inflict. His finer senses have been obliterated by too many massacres. There is no hope for him."

He noted the human's compulsive swallow, the slight quiver of the mouth, and brightness in those compelling hazel eyes. "No," Kirk said, "he is me. He cannot be the monster you describe."

"He is not you," Spock insisted, unable to stand the pain emanating from the man. "You bear no responsibility for his actions."

Kirk looked at his Vulcan friend as if to draw strength and comfort from his very presence, and Spock repressed his bitter envy. If only... If only. Vulcans did not fantasise, but he was very close to this particular human failing. He imagined himself and his captain in a close, comfortable friendship . His mind projected a scenario in which he revealed his identity. Although stunned, the human bowed to him with respect, vowed to follow him loyally, and promised to aid him in his quest to change the Empire.

Kirk said his name in a tone of concern he had never heard from his own captain. "I feel responsible for the predicament we are in."

"Please do not be, Captain," he responded but as those expressive eyes rested on him, he could feel his barriers wavering. Something in the human touched Spock on a level he could not shield against. Alarmed, he tore his gaze away, searching for help from the other.

The edges of lips identical to his own, turned up in a minute but knowing smile. "It is impossible. You are my twin, my very self here. You cannot help yourself."

Kirk looked at his friend, confusion on his mobile features, but the two Vulcans exchanged a glance of perfect understanding. Spock mirrored the other's smile. He could not comprehend the power of the remarkable human. Yet there was no point in denying its presence. It existed therefore it must be accepted.

Simple logic - yet Spock was rapidly reaching the conclusion that logic did not apply where this other-Kirk was concerned.

vi.

Kirk had seen enough. He closed the Tantalus Field with unnecessary force. His lily-livered counterpart would pay for the trouble he had caused. Try to subvert his Vulcan! He slammed a fist down upon the desk. Damn him! Kirk with all that charm and gentle persuasion has my Spock eating out of his hand like a tame puppy! Tears of frustration and anger swelled up in Kirk's eyes. Why do I have to always use my power as a starship captain to persuade people to follow me? Yet, Spock has been loyal. Is it only because I saved his worthless hide? What has existed between us over the years? Has it been friendship? Or has the Vulcan kept me safe only to retain his own comfortable niche, content to be a lesser target knowing that no-one would seriously attempt to assassinate the best science officer in the fleet?

The sound of the door-buzzer interrupted his ragged thoughts. "Come," he snarled. Uhura entered the cabin, a seductive smile on her lovely face. "Captain, the repairs are continuing on the communications malfunction," she reported.

"How long until it's fixed, Uhura? I need to get in touch with Starfleet."

"With so many circuits damaged, sir, it's impossible to give you an exact estimate."

He cursed silently. The power needed to transport his captives across the barrier had played havoc with the ship. Warp speed, sensor, and transporter capabilities were severely reduced. Subspace communications were completely out. He stood up and began to pace the room, his tension increasing as he realised how Starfleet might view his vengeful actions.

'Unnecessary risks', the judges would say at his trial. He would be sentenced to life imprisonment on one of their notorious penal planets.

No. He would not allow that to happen. He would score a fine victory on his next mission; the subjugation of the Pyran system. They would reward him with more medals, credits, promotion...

"Captain, I'm off-duty, now." Uhura's voice penetrated his thoughts.

Kirk stared at her, his gaze hungrily travelling over her petite form. "Later. I'll call you when I want you. Get back to the repairs."

Her smile did not waver. "Yes, sir, I'll be waiting."

He grinned slowly. "Yeah. After I deal with my prisoner, I'll be ready for you." The flush of excitement tingled provocatively in his groin. "I'll give you a real good time." He shifted uncomfortably as the pressure built against his tight uniform trousers.

Her ebony eyes flashed. "Then it's true. You mean to keep them here."

"Yes, they'll pay for the indignity we suffered in their universe."

Uhura ventured closer. "They deserve punishment for that, Captain."

She was near him now, looking up with adoration. Her perfume filled his senses, making him light-headed. He could not resist pulling her to him, kissing her roughly. She squirmed against him, moulding her small body along his, her arms reaching up to encircle his neck. His passions - ever near the surface - claimed him thoroughly and for a time he forgot the prisoners in the brig, the instrument failures and his worry over Starfleet Command as he absorbed himself totally with the warm, vibrant woman in his arms.

Afterwards, he lay on his bed, petting her soft, black hair and enjoying the relaxed pleasure of her stroking hands. "Uhura, why did I never take you to my bed before?" he asked.

She leaned her chin on his chest and studied him. "Didn't you find me attractive?" She smiled pertly, her large eyes holding a touch of mischief in their depths.

"Oh sure," he replied. "But you're the communications chief. I never sleep with my department heads and anyway, I didn't know if you were willing."

"I didn't think that mattered to you, Captain."

He laughed. "It does, Uhura. I'm not a rapist." A sudden coldness swept him as a vision of Marlena appeared in his mind. So what did you do to her? he asked himself as her struggles and screams returned to haunt him. He quickly dismissed the unpleasant memories. "I can be very nice," he added, drawing the woman up to kiss her soft lips.

Uhura stroked his smooth cheek with a long finger. "I am aware of that, Captain." She nibbled enticingly at his ear. "Will you be merciful to the prisoners?"

He stiffened, pushed her away and sat up. "What is it to you?" he asked suspiciously.

Uhura smiled sweetly. "I'm concerned. Starfleet are very touchy where Vulcans are concerned. I'm afraid for you if Mr Spock is harmed."

Kirk turned to her. "Afraid for me?" He watched her face closely, unsure of just how far to trust her. There had never been any cause to doubt Uhura; her record was impeccable but she seemed just a little too concerned over the first officer.

"Yes, Captain," she replied, the expression on her beautiful face completely without guile.

He hesitated for a moment then decided to test her. "I haven't decided what to do with him yet but I do aim to have some entertainment with the others. Would you like to watch?"

"Certainly, Captain," she promptly replied.

Kirk grinned with satisfaction. "You and I will get along just fine. Marlena never did have a strong stomach. You're made of sterner stuff - a fitting captain's woman." He swung his legs from the bed. "Get dressed. You'll see a real show, that I promise you."

Twenty minutes later he strode, Farrell at his back, into the detention area. He stood in front of the entrance to the cell and stared at the three inmates. The Vulcans protectively flanked the human. Kirk smiled. They would soon find out that they could do nothing to prevent the torture he would inflict on their pretty charge.

The other-Kirk's stance was defiant. "Return us to our universe. You've caused immeasurable damage there and we must help the Halkans."

Kirk sneered. "Why the hell should I care about your Halka? Come with me, I want to show you my ship."

"I've seen as much of your ship as I care to." The reply was filled with contempt.

"If you don't obey, I'll shoot your Vulcan." He raised his phaser. "As you can see, it's set to kill." The look of horror on the well known face was eminently satisfying. He pointed the weapon at Spock, whilst behind him Farrell and the other guards trained their phasers on both Vulcans.

"Captain... " Spock began.

"It's all right, Spock. I'll go. Don't attempt anything."

Kirk gestured to Farrell to cancel the force-field, then avidly watched as his victim exchanged a glance with first his own Spock then the other before stepping forward out of the cell. The controls were immediately reactivated, trapping the two Vulcans. Kirk nodded and the counterpart was held in the vice-like grips of the strongest security men and hauled along the corridor to the ship's main Agony Booth. A thrill of delight swept through him at the prisoner's reaction on seeing the transparent cubicle. This weak imitation had seen Chekov's behaviour on his previous visit. Unable to bear the navigator's pain, he had ordered Farrell to confine the treacherous Russian to quarters. Now this pseudo-Kirk would see how a real man - a real captain - maintained discipline.

He wondered what it would take to break the other ; it would be highly interesting to find the limits of his endurance. "Enter," he invited, "or do you have to be forced in?"

The penetrating gaze raked him and he could not avoid the overwhelming discomfort caused by those expressive eyes. "Why?" his double asked. "Why are you doing this? What satisfaction do you gain by hurting others? You are me as I would be in this universe. Surely there's a spark of decency in you. Why command by terror when you can earn the respect and loyalty of your crew? Break this conditioning that forces you to degrade yourself as a human being?"

Kirk felt a deep surge of resentment at those castigating words. "Don't give me that holier-than-thou attitude. In this universe weakness is despised. In this universe we are men."

The other's eyes lightened with a touch of amusement. "In my universe men have compassion, understanding and tolerance."

"Here such 'men' are eliminated," Kirk replied maliciously.

"Then this is a poorer place," came the reply as the prisoner's gaze alighted on Uhura. "The women in my universe have equality. I don't have a 'captain's woman'. No crew-woman on my ship has to sell sexual favours in order to advance. She reaches her rank by merit just like a man does."

Angered beyond endurance, Kirk motioned to Farrell and snapped, "Throw him in."

Farrell obeyed and the counterpart landed on his knees on the floor of the narrow compartment, his skull hitting the hard material. He grunted, and shook his head whilst Kirk waited for the moment there would be fear in the other's eyes. Mounting excitement suffused his body. What would it feel like to see 'himself' tortured?

Dishevelled hair damp with sweat was stuck to the high forehead now being raised. Eyes, bright with defiance, shot a challenge at him as they met his own; a lop-sided, mocking grin formed on the firm mouth.

Kirk's fury exploded. He would teach this weak parallel to defy him. "Full intensity. Full duration," he ordered.

vii.

Jim's heart lurched in his chest at that familiar command. Memories of his nightmare flooded back. Had that dream been a premonition? He shrugged the thought away; it was unimportant. He had to prepare himself for the torture and somehow find the strength not to succumb to the pain as Chekov had. It was imperative that no weakness be shown to this evil parody of himself.

With a wide, insolent smile at his counterpart he forced himself to stand. He would not plead for mercy nor show any subservience to this man. Bracing his hands on the sides of the narrow booth, he turned his thoughts to the meditative techniques Spock had taught him. As the agoniser assaulted his body, he attempted to distance himself from the pain filtering through his nerves. 'Pain is a thing of the mind. The mind can be controlled', Spock had once told him, but Jim was not a Vulcan and only partially succeeded in blocking it. Sweat oozed from his pores, streaming down his body, plastering the hair to his head, and soaking his uniform. He closed his eyes, increasing his concentration, forcing himself to keep on his feet and willing his body not to betray him as the torturing device intensified in power.

Spock, his mind called as the pain finally overwhelmed him.

A sudden vision of his calm and assured friend burst through the haze of agony, bringing a sense of peace. He grasped at the promise of sanctuary and wrapped himself within it, allowing himself to rest a moment before returning refreshed to the battle.

viii.

Spock jumped to his feet as the resonance of Jim's torment shot through the link they shared. "No," he whispered hoarsely as he felt his t'hy'la's suffering. "NO," he cried as fear for his captain's well-being overcame even Vulcan controls. He hurled himself at the force-field, his one coherent thought to escape this place of confinement, rescue Kirk and destroy the torturers. The high-energy field threw him back into the cell and he landed heavily on the ground, curled up into a foetal position with involuntary shivers wracking his body.

Gradually another persona infiltrated his shocked mind. What has happened? Why did you attempt such a foolish...? The voice trailed away as the other discovered the link and the suffering of the man irrevocably bound to him.

Spock instinctively reached for and found comfort in a mind of strength and compassion which matched his own. His trembling subsided and his fears and horror reduced to a tolerable level. The mind soothing his own was a mirror image and he gratefully sank into the familiar pathways. Deep in the meld he could see aspects of his own personality in the other, intensified and trained in techniques normally forbidden to a telepath. The other routinely used these methods of control. Although he himself had used some of those ways on occasion, it had been during times of dire necessity. The only circumstances in which they were permitted.

Forgive me. Vulcan control is impossible where Jim's safety is concerned, he apologised.

The prince was amused. Little twin, I admire your ethics, but may I point out that such abilities can also be used benevolently. If you had been reasoning with your intellect instead of your emotional human heart, the answer would have been apparent. It is possible to assist your captain through the link.

Spock's eyes opened to meet the warm, brown gaze upon him. He was lying propped up in his counterpart's arms, wrapped securely within a physical strength equal to his own. Slightly embarrassed, he struggled out of the grip and rose to his feet. You are correct," he said.

The prince stood. "Indeed," he replied in a familiar tone

Although Spock knew it was illogical to be embarrassed in front of his twin, it was difficult to overcome. Ignoring the meaningless emotion, he prepared himself and reached out to bolster Jim's flagging strength with his own. It was not difficult to make the connection for the anguished mind was desperately searching for him, instinctively knowing that Spock would try to help him. However, the distance between them meant that Spock's assistance was only sufficient to dull the edge of the biting pain. He drew on all of his considerable abilities but, weakened by the shock received from the force-field, the concentration essential for the continuing success of the protecting link was soon lost. He staggered with exhaustion as the drain on his energies began to deplete the remainder of his fragile strength.

There was the sound of amused laughter in his fogged mind. For one who follows the doctrines of Surak, your behaviour is most illogical, a deep mind-voice commented.

Perhaps, but Jim's needs are more important than my physical well-being. He cannot allow your captain to humble him, Spock replied.

My captain is expert at humbling men, the prince said ominously. Will you permit me to assist you both?

Why would you do this? Spock asked, suddenly cautious about the other Vulcan's motives. This counterpart had trained in some arts long fallen into disuse in his own universe. This royal double was far more skilled than he. What if he should harm Jim?

You do not trust me, the other said. Granted you have the right to question my motives. There was a moments pause, then a wave of aching loneliness swept from the bearded Vulcan into the recesses of Spock's mind. It was an emotion only too familiar. I would know what it is like to experience the bond of t'hy'la, if only as an observer.

Spock reached a swift decision, for Jim's welfare was paramount. Very well. Do you sense the bond?

Yes. I am ready, the prince acknowledged.

Opening his mind further, Spock allowed the counterpart's vigour to revitalise him. Jim's torment sliced through them both but they channelled soothing warmth to the human, feeling him absorb it gratefully, hearing his whispered thanks. Encouraged by the success of their joint venture, the two Vulcans increased support to Kirk, their minds entwining around his, shielding him from the intensity of the pain until the torture stopped. Wearily, Spock opened his eyes to discover himself lying down, his alternate slumped on the floor. He rolled from the bed, knelt beside the other Vulcan and turned him over. Haunted, moisture-filled eyes stared up at him.

Spock helped the other to sit on the bed, propped him against the pillow and sat down facing him. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

The prince shook his head, turned his face away and stared at the wall for several moments before returning his attention to Spock. How I envy thee, he said, easily reaching his twin's mind.

Spock blinked in surprise. He could not normally hear another's thoughts without touch, although Jim had, on occasion, been an exception to that rule. However this intense meld had dispelled the need for physical contact between them. I thank thee, he replied formally.

My captain will attempt other methods of breaking Jim.

How can he be so different? He is the same person, Spock said.

Once he was not unlike Jim but I do not think he can ever return to those days of his innocence. I will do all in my power to protect thy t'hy'la, that I swear to thee. I wish that he... that my captain could be... Emotion flared between them. I have everything. I have always had all that money, power and privilege could supply, but I am truly alone. I have nothing in comparison to you, no friend such as he.

Compassion welled up in Spock for this unhappy prince. I am with thee. I will be thy t'hy'la in this place. Thee has proved thyself mine.

Identical sets of lips almost smiled. Two minds found one another and brought peace and contentment. They remained in silence, drawing strength from each other.

ix.

Jim slowly released the breath he had been holding. His relief made him light-headed and he grasped the transparent walls of the booth, forced his respiration rate back to some form of normality and reviewed the startling events.

Spock had helped him. He was amazed that their link could function at a distance, but did not question his friend's right to offer assistance. Without it he would have been a quivering wreck, humiliated by screams he would have been unable to control. The Vulcan had unselfishly given his protection, and Jim was aware that any rejection of that offer would have hurt and angered Spock. Jim would never have allowed such all-encompassing support from any other yet felt privileged to accept it from Spock. The relationship they shared was unique by any standards.

He braced himself and opened his eyes to meet the hate-filled stare of his alternate. With a mocking smile to the other, he glanced around at the observers - Uhura and four security men. There was admiration on their faces which swiftly disappeared as their captain snapped orders to them. The door opened and Jim was dragged out to face his tormentor.

"So command training is thorough in your universe. Who would have believed it!" The counterpart's tone was icy.

Jim's smile of defiance provoked a hard slap to his face by the other. The blow rocked his head back and he reeled, only staying on his feet due to the tight grip of the security guards.

"So, pretty boy," Kirk hissed, "you think you're tough, do you? Will I show you the other little diversions I use to break men?"

It was not difficult for Jim to allow his contempt to show. "Maybe that's the only way you feel like a man," he taunted. "I only see a vicious, mindless animal in front of me."

Hard, hazel eyes darkened with rage. "Hold him," Kirk ordered, raising his fist.

Using advanced techniques learned from a Vulcan, Jim twisted free, disposed of one guard with a hard chop to the neck, the other with explosive punches to chin and groin, then retreated backwards along the corridor. He kept a wary look out for other crew as Kirk and the remaining men followed, but the detention area was deserted. Jim had no idea of how he would escape however it was imperative to try and release the Vulcans. With them, there was a chance. The cell was close. If only he could reach it, disable the guards, cancel the force-field.

"Get him," Kirk ordered. The men raised their phasers. "No, not yet," the capricious captain added, a malicious grin spreading across his features as he looked beyond his prisoner.

Jim knew that tone and glanced behind to see Farrell waiting at the turbo-lift doors, phaser aimed directly at him. He stopped dead as he suddenly recognised that face. Farrell, the personal guard who had seemed so familiar the other time he had been in this place yet who had not been in his own universe. The truth swept over him with devastating clarity. Farrell - his mother's name before she had entered into a life-marriage with his father.

A cold shiver travelled his spine as the memory returned. Uncle Frank, his mother's older brother who had been killed in a shuttle accident twenty years ago. Uncle Frank who had been a tower of strength when Dad died, becoming a substitute father to his two young nephews. Jim's eyes filled with tears. This man was older, brutalised, but he was undoubtedly Frank Farrell.

He took a step forward, reaching out his hand. "Uncle Frankie?" he murmured. Farrell's expression changed, his eyes softened and the phaser in his hand was lowered. Jim swallowed as the realisation hit him that in this universe it was possible that his father and brother were still alive. "In my reality you're dead. I can't believe I'm really seeing you again, Uncle Frankie." His voice broke on the name.

The big man clenched his fists and took a step forward.

"Fire," Kirk yelled.

Jim's eyes locked with the guard's until blackness overtook him and he knew no more.

x.

Kirk stared across the crumpled body at his uncle. The gaze that met his was dark with resentment. Controlling his fury and un-admitted fear he turned to the others, dismissed them, then walked over to the man he had always relied on. "Take him to his cell."

Farrell chewed at his lip, then nodded and bent to lift the unconscious man into his arms. "I knew there was something wrong the time he was here. He was so distant but I didn't suspect it wasn't you. I just thought you were preoccupied. He didn't recognise me then, he couldn't have been expected to. I'm dead where he comes from."

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Then be glad you're here, Uncle. Remember just where you belong and who really is your nephew."

Farrell hesitated. "Why don't you send him back? There's no purpose to be gained by this."

"No purpose!" Kirk exclaimed. "There's a real good purpose. He's changed Spock's loyalties. He's subverted my Vulcan."

The security chief shook his head. "No, I can't accept that. Spock has never wanted command, he's proved it to you time after time."

Kirk turned away, his hurt threatening to overwhelm him. Had even his trusted uncle deserted him? "He wants change, rebellion against the Empires. He speaks treason."

"He was in your debt. He never once betrayed your trust. His loyalty protected you better than I ever could."

"Don't you think I know that?" Kirk twisted to face him, beating down the raw ache in his guts that plagued him constantly now. "And that... that impostor stole him from me."

Farrell looked down at the limp form he carried. "Are you sure of that, James?"

Kirk's anger swelled. Now Farrell was questioning him. Would his uncle be the next to betray him? "Throw him in the cell, Farrell. And call me Captain. Do you hear?"

"Aye, Captain," the other man said.

As the security chief left with the prisoner, Kirk silently watched them, his stomach churning with emotions he was unwilling to define and he bit at his lower lip until it bled.

xi.

The two prisoners stood as Farrell entered their cell. The unconscious body in the guard's arms was soaked with sweat, the skin pale with shock. Both Vulcans had experienced the phaser stun on Jim and it had taken their combined will and strength to overcome its effects upon them. Spock sent a tendril of comfort to his concerned twin.

"Step back," Farrell ordered. "Don't try anything or my men will stun you."

The Vulcans retreated to the back of the cell as Farrell gently placed the captain on the bunk, then stared down for a moment at the younger man.

"May we have permission for Dr. McCoy to attend him?" Spock asked.

Farrell's usually harsh features showed an unusual compassion. "I'll ask Captain Kirk," he replied gruffly.

Spock applied his aura-reading technique and glimpsed the genuine softening in the man's harsh red glare. "This James Kirk is also your nephew. Would you see him destroyed?"

Farrell straightened, the aura-field around his body coalescing into a cold crimson haze. Without a word he turned and left the cell. The prince blinked rapidly, dispelling the disturbing after images remaining on his retina, remembering why he so rarely used the technique. It was disruptive to his peace of mind, causing blurred vision and damage to his mental shields. Only when he had viewed these t'hy'la from the other universe had he not suffered any adverse effects. It took him long minutes before he was able to concentrate on his surroundings again.

Spock bathed his friend's face with a damp cloth. His concern was only too apparent to one who understood him, whose mind had been joined to his so closely, whose very essence was a mirror-image to his own.

"The Agony Booth does not leave permanent scars," Spock reassured, "that is its main usefulness. A man can be tortured without physical harm. It is an excellent deterrent."

The other looked up at him, eyes blazing in unrestrained anger. "Most convenient, pain without scars, punishment which does not destroy the ability to work. No blood, no broken bones, no lacerations. I commend empire efficiency."

He recoiled from the emotions assaulting his mind, unable to shield against his twin. "I did not say I approved. I do not condone unnecessary suffering," he responded defensively.

"Then why have you permitted it?"

Spock hesitated. Why indeed had he? Prince that he was, it would have been possible to use his influence to modify or change unjust laws and practices. Instead he had chosen to serve in Starfleet as a means to further his own selfish quest for knowledge when he should have stayed on Vulcan or Earth, working from within the family to improve the lot of their subjects.

He recalled his privileged upbringing. The best of everything had been his - food, clothes, education, every luxury the galaxy could provide; slaves to attend his every whim, servants and guards for his protection. Poverty and privation had been unknown to him until his father had taken him on a tour of the conquered Klingon worlds. He had been horrified by the treatment meted out by the humans to their former enemies. Sarek had only commented that these allies, bound to Vulcan by the very marriage which had produced Spock, could stoop to a level of depravity which no civilised being could understand. Only through association with Vulcans could humans learn the control of their baser emotions.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had pleaded for permission to join Starfleet. To set an example to these unpredictable, barbarous, yet fascinating people and civilise them. He thought of his mother, the most gentle, compassionate and loving being he knew. If only all humans could be like her. "I have attempted to moderate my captain's excesses," he eventually replied.

But his twin did not accept that explanation. "You had the power to do more than that." He shook his head, disappointment showing in his intense gaze. He returned his attention to the prone man, leaving the prince with a deep sense of guilt.

"Yes," the first officer of the I.S.S. Enterprise agreed. He should have taken over the ship. He should have realised that his Kirk was too much the savage, hooked on violence, terror and power and totally without the inherent goodness of the captain from the other side. Now through his naivety he had contributed to the deaths of millions on both Halkas, unknown damage to the two universes, pain and probably death for the very man who had given him pride in himself and the belief in a just and worthwhile cause. The prince slowly walked over to the other bunk, lay down and closed his eyes. Despite his superior intelligence, he had been an utter fool. Kirk ruled the ship now. There was no hope of rescue. All was at an end.

NO, the mind-command drowned his defeatist thoughts. You will not give up. There will be a way to resist your captain. I need your strength, t'hy'la, do not abandon us.

You would honour me still? he asked unable to hide his gratitude and surprise.

Forgive me. It is not my place to judge you. You have been a true friend to Jim and I. Do not allow these events to deter you from your ultimate goal. There is a human saying: 'Where there's life there's hope.' I have found it to be true.

You shame me. I will not give up the fight for change. That I promise, t'hy'la.

I am pleased.

A warmth suffused Spock in body and mind. He identified it as happiness, both his and the other's. It was illogical, but at this moment he was more content than he had ever been in his life.

xii.

Jim Kirk fought his way to consciousness. Memory trickled back. The pain of the Agony Booth; the easing of its effects through the link; the brief struggle in the corridor; the horror of recognising a man he knew as dead; the sharp stinging discomfort of the stun-effect. His thoughts whirled chaotically as shock settled into his system, but through it all there was a tendril of familiar warmth and he relaxed knowing that Spock was nearby. He attempted to open his eyes but his eyelids refused to obey him.

Easy, Jim. Do not move yet, a familiar mind voice said.

Spock?

I am with thee, t'hy'la.

This is only a brief respite. He'll try again, he wants to break me.

He will not break you, Jim.

No man can stand that kind of pain forever, Spock. Not even me. I realise that and am not ashamed to admit it.

A warm glow of amusement tinged with affection filtered into his thoughts. You are the bravest man I have ever met, Jim. You know your weaknesses and limitations and are not afraid to voice them.

Only to you, Jim replied with an inner smile.

I am honoured, t'hy'la, but you must rest now. We will devise an escape plan, although it will be difficult. The brig is secure. All Spock's operatives but one have been eliminated. He appears to be our only option at present.

Who is the one left? Jim asked, curious about the relationships amongst the crew in this universe.

Once he was informed, Jim could not help but smile. To have the doctor on their side was a plus yet it was more than that; to know that even here McCoy was loyal to the Vulcan was a relief and somehow a pleasure. Spock was silent for a time and, a little worried about his withdrawal, Jim reached for the familiar touch of minds. Are you all right?

My counterpart has given permission for his status to be made known to you, the reassuring voice said.

Jim listened with amazement to the history of this mirror-universe and the place Spock held in it. Kirk really doesn't know! No-one on this ship knows?

Only McCoy. It is fortunate for the doctor that his position as Spock's servant is a secret.

I'm absolutely amazed! Jim exclaimed. But surely if Spock revealed his identity, the crew would switch loyalties to him? A member of the royal family would be safe.

That cannot be taken for granted. Kirk is unpredictable and dangerous. He craves power; it is like a drug to him and he has no great love for royalty. The prince believes there would be a violent reaction. Kirk is jealous because you won Spock with your parting words, encouraging him to rebel against the Empire. Your counterpart is a most irrational being even for a human.

Jim almost laughed aloud at that remark. He managed to open his eyelids this time and met his friend's concerned gaze. Clasping the thin wrist lightly to assure himself of the solidity of that presence, he turned his attention to the other side of the bed to meet the curious stare of his Vulcan's mirror image. He smiled slightly, still unused to the sight of the two of them, and touched the bearded Vulcan's arm.

For such jealousy to exist means that some finer feelings such as love and friendship still live in my counterpart's twisted personality. He was startled when the presence of the alternate entered the link, but relaxed as he realised the Vulcan was not a threat. It felt like his own Spock's presence intensified and its familiarity suddenly became apparent. You helped Spock protect me from the booth. Thank you.

It was an honour to serve you, Captain, the prince replied. However I cannot accept your assessment of Kirk's feelings. He hates and fears me. Anguish spread through the three-way link.

No Jim Kirk could hate his Spock, Jim soothed. I believe that you must gain control of this ship and of him. Only then will you be able to make changes in your universe. You were wrong to attempt to persuade him to join you. You should have appointed yourself captain; declared your true identity. It would've been simple then to prove it. You could have forced him to see sense. He'd have accepted your command. He can only submit to one who is stronger and whom he cares about and respects.

How do you know this? the prince asked curiously. He is not you.

Kirk could not restrain his smile. Oh, he's me. Deep down he's exactly me. I would and have followed Spock, because I trust and respect him and am honoured by his friendship. He's closer to me than my own brother ever was.

There was a long silence in the link and after showing a touch of amusement at Spock's embarrassment over such statements, Jim dozed lightly, basking in the safety of the two Vulcans' protection as the aches in his mind and body began to ease. It was a only a temporary measure until the proper conditions for Vulcan healing methods were available, or a doctor could attend him, but Jim was only too glad of it.

He roused himself. I can understand his behaviour in a dim kind of way. He's like a child who's lost his only friend. He's hurt, scared and alone. Hell, if Spock ever turned away from me, I think I'd fall apart. He stared up into the bearded face, not menacing now but with a compassion showing in those almost-sable eyes that was mesmerising. Don't you see he's depended on you over the years, secure in the knowledge that you didn't want his command, and protected... supported him. Now he believes you've transferred your friendship and loyalty to me.

We were not friends, not as you two are, the prince replied bitterly.

Jim squeezed his arm tightly. Perhaps there is still time.

The prince's eyes darkened with emotion, his forehead creased in pain. He is evil.

He's scared. He needs you, Spock. Maybe in this universe he needs to follow you. Have you considered that?

He is and always will be Captain of the Enterprise, the other replied.

He can still be captain and follow his prince.

The bearded Vulcan seemed to arrive at a decision. He rose to his feet, drew himself to his full height and strode to the brig entrance. "Inform the captain that I wish to speak with him," he ordered the guards.

The men lowered their eyes, clasped their drawn phasers and turned their backs on him. Spock stared at their stiff forms for a moment, raised an eyebrow then walked back to his cell-mates. Jim smiled in encouragement and focussing his attention upon the wall, the prince crossed his arms across his chest and spoke. "Captain, I wish an interview with you at once. There is much to discuss." The guards looked in, but quickly moved out of sight after the Vulcan swivelled to meet their curious gazes. Spock smiled very slightly. "I know you watch, Captain. I have learned your secret. Do you wish to kill me for it? Or will you speak to me?"

Jim exchanged a worried look with his friend. Both knew that Spock played a highly dangerous game. Kirk had only to press a button for the first officer's life to be terminated. Was it bravery or foolhardiness which motivated the Vulcan, or the hope that his captain retained some feeling for one he had once thought a friend?

"Be careful, Captain," the prince continued. "What would Starfleet do to one who so casually murdered the best science officer in the Fleet - and a Vulcan."

The menace in his tone was chilling and Jim barely restrained a shudder. It had been this side of the Vulcan which had caused his problems with Spock on the return home, but beneath that surface reaction he applauded the tactics. Kirk would not respect anything other than a dangerous, powerful Spock. Perhaps... just perhaps there was a little hope for them all.

xiii.

Kirk closed the Tantalus Field. He was shaking with anger and fear. The Vulcan's tone had sent tremors through him and he did not understand his reactions. He was safe here in his cabin, whilst Spock was locked away and unable to reach him. Yet, old propaganda tales of telepathic atrocities committed by Vulcans returned to haunt him; the hypnotic gaze which took a human's will, enslaving those in their power. He flopped down on his bed, curled up on his side and hugged himself around the chest. Breathing slowly and deeply, his heartbeat dropped to normal and his fear began to subside. Fool! he chastised himself. How could he believe such nonsense? Yet he had seen Spock control the minds of others.

The sound of the door chime was a welcome relief from his imaginings. He rose from the bed, straightened his uniform tunic, retied his silky sash more comfortably then checked the monitor, relaxing as he saw it was McCoy. "Enter, Doctor," he said.

"Farrell told me you wanted to see me," McCoy said as he walked in.

"Yes. You know about my prisoners?"

McCoy studied him with those disconcerting blue eyes. "Yes, Captain."

"I want your medical opinion about my counterpart. He's had two heavy stuns and full duration of the Agony Booth. He appears to be ill and I want him fit enough to go through another session of the booth."

"The booth won't harm him physically but two heavy stuns so close together might have caused neural damage, not to mention cell disruption. I'd better examine him."

Kirk's gaze was hard as he surveyed the older man. McCoy had always been a trustworthy doctor, his loyalty had never been in doubt but sometimes he wondered what lay behind that cool professionalism. Spock also trusted McCoy and had permitted his medical attention. Just where did the man's real loyalty lie? "No tricks, Doctor. I'll be watching you all the time."

"Tricks, Captain?" McCoy's expression was guileless. "Do you take me for a fool? These men are your prisoners. I'll make sure your double will be fit to suffer the full force of the Agony Booth, don't worry."

"Good," Kirk said, as his thoughts lingered on the exquisite torment he would inflict upon the other. "This time, he'll receive two consecutive periods of full duration."

McCoy stared at him in shock. "No man can endure that!"

Kirk sneered. "He withstood one session without crying out for mercy, without even a moan of pain. I don't know how he did it, but I intend to break him. I want him alert not sluggish from the stuns. See to it."

He was aware of the doctor's distaste but shrugged it aside. He would make his counterpart scream with agony, beg to be released, and he would gloat and refuse until the bastard crawled on his knees in abject terror.

Yes. He would enjoy every delicious moment of the other's humiliation.

xiv.

McCoy walked to the cell, his thoughts in complete turmoil. At last he would be able to see his master but what could he do to help? The brig was too well guarded and under observation at all times, yet at the very least he would be able to ascertain the prince's condition and perhaps receive some indication of how he could be of assistance.

Although aware of the presence of the doubles from the other-universe, McCoy could not prevent the stab of shock he felt on seeing the two Vulcans together, the alien-Spock looking like a younger brother of the prince. He cleared his throat, waited for the force-field to be cancelled and warily entered the room.

"Captain Kirk ordered me to check on his... " He trailed off as he saw the man who was lying on the bunk, those familiar features drawn with pain, the skin pale, a lock of hair hanging damply over the wide forehead. It was difficult to maintain his medical detachment as the young man's eyes opened and a soft voice murmured, "Bones?"

He ran the med.-scanner along the sweat-soaked body, but did not speak. Something in the man's attitude towards him, the trust so readily and easily given, the affectionate name, all of which denoted a close and caring friendship in that other universe, caused a sympathetic ache to throb in his heart.

"Your diagnosis, Doctor." The prince's commanding voice reached him.

He winced slightly then caught his patient's eye. There was a certain wonderment and not a little sympathy on the expressive features.

"You're so like Bones," the prone man said.

"You're very like Captain Kirk," he replied defensively.

"I am Captain Kirk," the man replied.

McCoy turned away from that disconcerting gaze and looked up at the prince he had sworn to protect. "He's sustained some damage. I'll give him a shot. That'll help."

Spock raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Yes, he must be able to suffer the full effect of the Agony Booth again. Is that not the reason you were sent here? To repair his ability to feel pain?"

"I follow orders, sir," McCoy replied, hoping, waiting for a sign from the Vulcan.

"Indeed, you must always follow orders," the prince replied.

McCoy chewed at his lip. What did his lord mean? He awaited the Vulcan's touch. He detested this invasion of his privacy yet could not refuse it. The prince knew of his aversion and rarely used the method except when there was no other way to communicate. He outwardly returned his attention to his patient again, inwardly attuned only to the dark-eyed prince he was sworn to serve. He calmed his mind, opening the implanted device which allowed Spock to home in on his mental patterns and sighed as the familiar telepathy of the Vulcan filtered through his senses. In a few moments he imparted all that had occurred during his lord's imprisonment.

Do nothing at this time. You cannot effect an escape on your own.

Christine would help. We could eliminate the guards.

She is not my operative.

She worships you, my prince. She would do anything for you.

No. I cannot trust her

I could incapacitate the captain. I could kill him.

The vehemence of the Vulcan's refusal shook him and he swayed. Kirk reached up to steady him, holding his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "Who's the patient here," McCoy snapped.

A slight smile curled the younger man's lips. "Sorry, Bones."

"That ain't my name," he grumbled.

"Sorry," Kirk replied, sighing as a drug was pressured into his arm.

The prince's dominant tone swept McCoy's mind once more. You will wait and watch. You will determine those dissatisfied with the captain's behaviour. You will attempt to send a coded message to Vulcan from the transmitter hidden within my cabin. It may not have been affected by the communications damage as it is independent of the ship's network.

But how do I get into your cabin? It's under guard. And even if I do succeed, if the transmitter's out then rescue is impossible. I may yet have to kill the captain, not something I would relish.

Killing him will not help me. Farrell would revenge his death and not hesitate to assassinate me. It would be simple for him to fill this cell with gas deadly to Vulcans.

Very well, sir. But what of this man? Kirk is determined to break him.

Give him some medication to increase his resistance to the pain.

There's nothing to ease the torture of the Agony Booth. All I can do is give him vitamin concentrate to boost his stamina.

Then do so.

McCoy obeyed. He dared not look into the trusting face of the alternate-Kirk. He had noted from the start that this man was exceptional. He pressed the gold-clad arm. "Rest now."

"Thank you, Doctor," Kirk said.

Compelled by the gentleness of that voice, McCoy could not prevent himself from glancing at his patient. The warm smile and grateful expression caused an ache inside which the doctor immediately identified as guilt. Damn. How can I allow this innocent to suffer at Kirk's hands? What kind of physician am I? I can stop Kirk. I could slip him a neural paralyser, he would...

NO. The order sounded in his head. We will bide our time. Do as I have commanded.

McCoy stood up, unable to fight the direct order. He looked at the two Vulcans, his gaze lingering on the un-bearded one. This scientist had so easily detected their presence on his ship; immediately consigning them to the brig, efficiently locating and returning his own crewmates. This Spock was not royalty yet he exuded all the dignity of a prince.

"I'll be back to check on him," he said. It was imperative to be physically near the Vulcan to receive the messages. Once he had found a way to send the distress call, he would return.

Our lives depend on you, doctor. The telepathic thoughts of his prince whispered deep in his mind.

xv.

Spock helped to ease his captain into a sitting position, watching intently as some colour returned to the human's face. Although Jim tried to hide his discomfort, Spock was well aware of his distress for a residue from the mind-meld had increased the attunement to his t'hy'la's mood. He raised an eyebrow at the dismissive smile aimed at him. Jim grinned shamefaced then apologetically. The attunement worked both ways, and Jim's knowledge that he could hide nothing was easy to read.

"Captain, you must rest," Spock said.

"I'll be all right," the stubborn human replied.

Spock repressed a sigh of annoyance and allowed Jim to stand. There were too many times when he forgot his Vulcan heritage and permitted his human half to dominate his behaviour. Jim evoked a protectiveness in him which was difficult to restrain. The human always seemed to attract trouble. Spock was aware that Jim was a self-assured, strong for his species, Terran male who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. However there were times, like the present, when he was vulnerable and Spock was only too willing to expend any energy at his disposal to assist him.

It was a measure of Jim's trust that he would allow himself to show his pain and insecurities to Spock, and lean on him for support. Always the captain to others, Jim could only relax with two people; his doctor and first officer. Only with them could he - at times - lay down the heavy burden of command and be himself. Spock valued his friend's complete confidence in him and forced himself to draw back for if Jim reached the end of his endurance, he would not hesitate to reach out for help.

The telepathic touch of the other Vulcan sought entry to his thoughts, and Spock learned of the hidden transceiver. McCoy is a faithful servant. He will find a way, the prince added.

A thread of amusement spread through the link. Our Dr. McCoy would be horrified at being my servant!

Then they are not un-alike. He does not enjoy it, but it is his job and his family's lives are at stake.

Barbarous, Spock commented.

You worry about your captain, the other said.

Spock was silent, unable to speak openly about his fears even to his twin.

You cannot hide your concern from me. It is nothing to be ashamed about. He is your t'hy'la and worthy of the love you bear him.

Spock gave a start and automatically responded. Vulcans control their emotions.

Mocking laughter swept through their linked thoughts. In this universe Vulcans do not deny their emotions. Even the followers of Surak are more sensible. They repress the negative emotions and embrace the positive, that is their strength and it is what I have tried to learn from my teacher. It is not always an easy path, for violence is inherent in the Vulcan nature. In the past forty years many of us have begun to follow the Tenets of Surak and have found a greater tranquillity. If Jim was my t'hy'la, I would not hesitate to show him my regard.

A touch on his arm recalled Spock from this conversation. His eyes re-focussed and he saw Jim staring at him with concern, questions in those troubled eyes. He sent reassurance through the physical touch and Jim smiled, squeezed his arm then released him. Spock smiled inwardly, knowing that this perceptive human understood him with perfect accuracy. It was an ability Jim had always possessed, even from the early days of their acquaintance.

The other Vulcan mind registered surprise at that revelation.

xvi.

Kirk stormed onto the bridge. He had seen enough. Damn Spock! Damn the alternates! Everyone stood to attention but he ignored them, sat on the command chair and stared angrily at the viewscreen.

"Uhura, how are the communications repairs going?" he snapped.

"Progressing, sir, we have limited range now."

He swivelled to face her. "That's not good enough. I want subspace communications fully restored."

"Yes, sir," she replied, her lovely face tight with worry.

He gritted his teeth, attempting to prevent an outburst he would regret. Uhura was doing her best. She had worked long hours at the comm-centre, co-ordinating her staff, doing work her technicians were assigned to, not trusting them with the delicate repairs. She was a woman to be valued, both as an officer and a lover. Whether she could be fully trusted was another matter.

Damn the Halkans. Damn the counterparts whose kidnapping has caused this damage. He desperately wanted to get his hands on the scheming Vulcan who had switched loyalties, but Uhura's warning words nagged at him with their truth. Harm a Vulcan, especially one as highly regarded as Spock, and Starfleet would have his hide - and his command - if he was unable to prove the truth of the accusations.

He could not use any evidence from the Tantalus Field, for he did not want the Admiralty to learn of the device. Its existence must remain a secret to ensure his own rise to power. He would dispose of Marlena, the only other person who knew of its existence. Spock would claim knowledge of it but with Marlena gone, his evidence would be discounted as hearsay. He caught his breath as he remembered that one other had seen it. However the alternate-Kirk was unimportant; he would not be around to give evidence.

The only proof of Spock's treason lay in the ship's spy-eye tapes. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the command chair, knowing he would need more than a few recorded scenes to indict the Vulcan. One as clever as the first officer would find a way to explain away the evidence. But what if he is believed about the Tantalus Field? What if he accuses of me of his operatives' murders and says that his imprisonment was a deliberate ploy to hide the evidence of the Tantalus Device from Starfleet? What'll happen to me then? There are many in the Admiralty who dislike the 'boy wonder' captain, envious of my successes and only too willing to bring me down. There has to be a way of discrediting Spock and a method of breaking that icy, Vulcan control.

He chewed at the inside of his mouth as a plan gradually evolved in his clever, devious mind. He had noted how Spock had accepted his alternate; the empathy between them was obvious. Kirk recalled every detail he had learned about Vulcans. Not very much, he conceded sourly. Yet it was possible, even logical, that the first officer - a telepath - would be affected by the sufferings of one who was his other self. If he could not torture Spock directly in case of future repercussions, there was nothing to stop him from trying to break the other Vulcan.

His face twisted into a leering grin. First he would continue with his own alternate. Then he would take his revenge on the mild scientist who had imprisoned him, hopefully causing the bearded, superior Spock to regret ever having defied him. If it worked, he could plead ignorance of Vulcan psi abilities. If it works... he mused, a flood of pleasure sweeping him. He imagined bringing Spock to heel, completely under his command, that Vulcan menace and power subdued.

In a decidedly better mood he settled down into his chair and ordered the helmsman to increase ship's speed to the maximum available warp. To hell with the engineer's warnings about overtaxing his 'bairns'. The faster they reached Pyra to quell the uprising there, the faster he would be able to turn his complete attention to his entertainment with the prisoners. It was a tedious ten day journey to Starbase 30 from the Pyran system, but he knew exactly how to keep himself from becoming bored.

xvii.

Uhura worked at her console. Occasionally, she glanced at the man who was her captain - now her lover. She fractionally shook her head. Not her lover! Their relationship was certainly not one of love. She was doing her job, it was her duty to protect the prince in whatever manner possible. She shuddered at the thought of what would happen to her if she failed in her task. The price of failure was high.

Once more she contacted her subordinates, haranguing them mercilessly for not having completed the repairs. Damn the Captain for causing such damage! If Kirk had not, in his petty revenge, abducted the counterparts, she could have implemented her phoney sabotage, contacted the Royal Security Force, thus ensuring her prince's rescue.

He turned to look at her, a smile creasing his handsome face. She swallowed, attempting to dispel the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Damn, he's an attractive man, she thought, not for the first time.

"I can tell why you made chief, Uhura," he said, his white teeth gleaming against the tan of his perfect skin.

"I demand the best from my staff," she replied, forcing herself to return the smile.

"As I do," he replied, his gaze travelling along her curved figure and long legs.

She moistened her lips with her tongue, lowered her eyelashes, and provocatively glanced sideways at him and returned to her console. She attempted to subdue the loud thundering of her heart. To be the captain's woman was a coveted and influential post on a starship. It did not clash with her primary concern if she enjoyed her new status, and the man who thought he had given her some kind of honour.

For a moment she recalled the sight of the other-Kirk, so noble, like some hero out of a fantasy adventure from her childhood imaginings, as he defied torture and pain. His words to her had burned themselves into her brain, never to be eradicated.

'The women in my universe have equality. I don't have a 'captain's woman'. No crew-woman on my ship has to sell sexual favours in order to advance. She reaches her rank by merit just like a man does.'

She had seen little in the other universe, except the transporter room and the brig. There had been no real proof of his statement yet somehow she believed him. Such a man would not take advantage of a member of his crew for sexual gratification. Such a man would respect everyone. She wondered what it would be like to be the lover of the alternate-Kirk.

A familiar, masculine scent brought her from her musing. He stood only a step away, his bare arm almost touching her shoulder. Mesmerised, she looked up into his face, the hairs on the back of her neck rising as she saw the desire in his intense gaze.

"1900 hours, my cabin," he murmured.

"Yes, Captain," she replied huskily.

He knew his magnetic effect on women and used it ruthlessly. With a deep sigh, Uhura returned to her work; she must keep the captain occupied until she found some way to rescue her master. Afterwards, she would regret Kirk's death, but there would be no reprieve for the man who had imprisoned a Vulcan prince.

Again she toyed with the idea of killing him herself and dismissed it. There was no guarantee that her master would be safe. Kirk's men would assume that Spock had engineered it and execute him. The only other option was to announce her lord's identity but that was a secret she had sworn to uphold. If only she could contact Headquarters. She had to have instructions.

Uhura redoubled her efforts to repair the communications network. At least enough to enable her to contact her superiors.

Next section - Shadows (4)

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