shadows4

Jim Kirk rested, unable to sleep. He had learned that a phaser in this universe was a weapon to be feared for the cellular damage it caused was often irreversible. He tried to visualise how such a violent regime could survive. The universe he knew was far from perfect but basic decency, respect for others, and co-operation amongst different species were paramount. He opened his eyes, blinking furiously as the harsh light of the cell blazed down upon him. Turning onto his side, his gaze fell upon the aquiline profile of his Vulcan friend. Spock was sitting on the floor, calm and relaxed in meditation. Jim felt a surge of affection for this exceptional being who, even absorbed in the disciplines so vital for his peace of mind, nevertheless remained close by. Jim's stomach knotted painfully as he recalled how shamefully he had treated his t'hy'la after the first encounter with the parallel universe.

His eyes moved to the one, now sitting cross-legged on the other bunk, who had caused that fear. A still, silent duplicate of his own Spock, not evil or vicious but a being very like his alternate. This Vulcan was a product of a more ruthless environment yet was still a man of integrity and honour. Jim almost laughed aloud. He had suspected that his own Vulcan sprang from some kind of royalty but Spock had always denied it, informing his captain that his people did not believe in having a privileged class in their society. All were equal under Vulcan law, those in positions of power reaching it by merit alone.

He studied the twin profiles noting that the only obvious difference between them was the neatly clipped moustache and beard of the prince. Why had he feared the alien-Spock? The man possessed much of his own friend's incomparable compassion. He had known that. He blinked back the sudden rush of shame about the Kirk who commanded this Enterprise. Damn the man! Does he have no finer points to his character? Jim knew that he was far from perfect but it was impossible to understand how Kirk survived using such unrestrained cruelty and aggression! How could the man be happy without knowing the things that made life worthwhile? The exhilaration of commanding his ship; knowing that his crew followed him willingly; the love of his family during childhood; the women he had adored; the friendship with McCoy, his trusted confidant and conscience; the unique bond he shared with Spock.

The fool doesn't know what he has! He tortures me like a rejected child whose rival has stolen something belonging to him. Jim struggled into a sitting position as the truth of these thoughts struck him. He believes I have stolen his Vulcan, and in a way I have. Yet Spock's loyalty still lies with him. Why doesn't he realise it? If only I could make him understand.

He faced his friend's concerned, dark gaze. "I'm okay. Just having difficulty sleeping."

He studied the drawn features. If Kirk is jealous then logically some feeling for his Spock must exist. The true relationship is hidden under layers of distrust and fear, the very essence of their universe. Both are aware of it yet unable to admit it. They have protected one another, despite the ever present threat of assassination. Spock has served his captain, when he could so easily have removed him. Kirk has been secure with the Vulcan at his side, and now he believes he has lost that. Marlena recognised me as the man she once knew, so somewhere deep within he is just like me - or was. Could this brutal empire have hardened him so much that his sense of decency, his gentler side, has been destroyed?

Jim knew himself to be capable of cruelty. It was a legacy of his human heritage but his better side generally won out, softening his occasional slips from idealism. Also he had McCoy and Spock to keep him in check. The captain of the I.S.S. Enterprise had no such safeguards now. Presumably the other Spock had been a steadying influence over some of his excesses.

Jim smiled. Spock had occasionally helped him into a restful sleep using one of those amazing Vulcan methods of relaxation to induce calm upon his troubled captain. He nodded gratefully, settled back down on the hard pillow and closed his eyes as Spock sat beside him.

"How touching," a too-familiar voice sneered as slender fingers settled on his forehead.

The warmth fled as he sat up to see his counterpart staring at him. Beside him Spock had straightened, fists clenched on his lap. The Vulcan's tension was palpable and he tried to transmit assurances to his friend before both of them rose to stand side by side.

The bearded Vulcan stood up and stepped forward. "I wish to speak with you, Captain." His tone was hypnotically compelling.

Kirk took a quick backwards step. "Bring my double," he ordered the security guards who flanked him.. The imprisoned Vulcans moved closer to their human companion but Kirk only laughed mockingly. "You don't have a chance."

Jim shrugged at his would-be protectors, smiled encouragingly and walked towards the door, back ramrod straight despite his aches. He would not show weakness in front of this bastard.

As the force-field snapped into place, the prince's voice rang out with authority . "Captain, you are making a grave mistake by incarcerating us here. We must discuss the matters which disturb you. Return these men to their own universe then it will be possible to resolve our problems "

Jim held immobile by guards and, under phaser threat by two others, watched the interplay between his double and Spock's. He examined the features identical to his own, searching for any signs that the man was relenting. All he could see were beads of sweat breaking out along the upper lip, the throbbing of the pulse at the neck, the slight twitch of facial muscles; all indications of the turmoil raging inside.

A sudden twist from the other man, and a hard palm viciously slapped him across the face. He felt his lip split, followed by the warmth of blood trickling down his chin.

"Take him to the booth," Kirk ordered. A malicious grin spread across his face. "Full intensity. Double duration."

The tough security men paled but snapping to attention at their captain's dangerous expression, they dragged their prisoner along the corridor. Although knowing it was useless to resist, Jim did not go willingly. As he was forced away, he heard the commanding tone of the Vulcan prince fade into the distance. He struggled until overcome by the sheer weight of numbers and his own lingering weakness, he was finally thrown into the small torture chamber. Defiantly, he stood up and came face to face with Farrell. His eyes misted slightly as he saw the man who - in another reality - had been like a second father. Farrell stared at him and for a moment there was compassion on his craggy face.

"Well, what're you waiting for?" Kirk demanded, striding up to his uncle. "Begin, Farrell."

With an apologetic look at the man in the booth, Farrell keyed in the sequence on the console. Jim smiled as he understood the man's regret. With a slight nod he absolved him of his actions, closed his eyes and reached with his mind for Spock.

Jim sent his profound gratitude as the needle-sharp waves of pain coursed through his nerves. He gasped, certain he would be unable to endure such agony. Then a soothing warmth filtered into his senses, slowly battling the pain and overcoming much of its intensity. Time slowed as the concentration needed to block the torture engaged the full attention of the three. Jim scratched at the sheer walls of his prison, his sweat-soaked fingers slipping from the surface, unable to gain a grip. The pain - despite the intervention of the Vulcans - saturated his abused nerves and it took all of his will and training to remain silent.

Relief engulfed him when the agony abruptly ceased. He slid to the floor, his breath coming in sharp gasps as extreme weakness permeated every muscle. Deep inside his mind he sensed the exhaustion of the two who had assisted him, and without whom he would surely have begged and cried in front of the gloating Kirk. With the remainder of his will, he sent his thanks and affection before the Vulcans slipped weakly from his mind.

There was total silence. With an aching sense of loss, Jim took a deep breath and forced his tightly clenched eyelids to open. He looked through the transparency of the booth to the shocked watchers staring at him with expressions openly showing their puzzlement and awe but Kirk's eyes flashed with molten fury. Jim wiped the sweat from his forehead and stared at his mirror double, horror pounding at him on seeing the distorted image reflected back. The old tale of Jekyll and Hyde tugged at his thoughts to be quickly dismissed. There would be no death for himself or his dark twin if he could possibly prevent it. There had to be another way.

Jim was lifted out of the torture chamber and held securely in Farrell's grip, arms pinioned behind his back. He concentrated on regaining his strength, but the shivering in his limbs would not subside and he was forced to lean back against the solidity of the man who might have been his uncle.

Kirk glanced around at his men then pointed at one young ensign. "Get in," he ordered.

The ensign's face drained of all colour, his eyes darting about as if looking for help. Jim recognised the terrified features. Heinneman, a new start in the science department on his Enterprise, who had come from the Academy with high credentials. Compassion was all that he could offer the boy and he saw it being absorbed. Slowly but obediently the ensign entered the booth, his gaze never leaving Jim's.

Kirk set the controls and watched, with dispassion, as Heinneman screamed his agony. With an angry curse he cancelled the sequence and the boy slumped sobbing to his knees. Kirk turned and there was confusion in his eyes. "Why didn't you scream? How are you able to endure the booth?"

Jim straightened his shoulders and, afraid he might just deduce the reason, determined to defy him. "Why don't you try it? After all, you're me, and if I can resist it surely you can."

"Afraid you might cry out?" Jim mocked, his voice dripping contempt. "Maybe you're not as tough as I am!"

Kirk's face flushed with rage and he attacked, punching wildly at Jim's unprotected body and face. There was no escape from the punishing blows and when merciful blackness descended, Jim gratefully fell into its welcoming pit.

Jim, Spock's mind called out, as he stood vigil at the cell door, awaiting his captain's return. He was exhausted from the effort of easing his friend's pain and had felt every blow on his own body. Then he had lost the sense of Jim's presence. Worry throbbed like an open wound until the touch of a warm hand on his arm distracted him. Gratefully he accepted the offer of comfort and allowed a surge of calming strength to slide through him. He took a deep, shuddering breath and reached out again, searching for the mind of his bond-brother. Silence persisted in the tenuous link between them although he was sure that it had not been severed. He would have known if Jim were dead. He would have 'heard' the emanations of the katra's passing. Wouldn't he? Surely Jim was just unconscious.

Peace, t'hy'la. Such a bond is unmistakable. You would have sensed his death, the other Vulcan assured.

What will he do to Jim? Spock asked, unable to prevent his concern from penetrating the other's mind.

The answer reinforced Spock's worry. He trained all of his senses for the spark of humanity which was Jim. He found nothing. If he were not a Vulcan, he would have wept his frustration and grief. Inwardly he cried as pain knotted his stomach and iced the blood in his veins.

Approaching footsteps registered on his acute hearing. He straightened in anticipation as they grew closer. Farrell came into view, carrying a limp form over his shoulder, followed by Kirk and four guards. Spock's heart thudded with fear as he took in the sight of the battered, bloodied, unconscious body.

He stood aside as the force-field was cancelled but once Farrell was inside the cell, Spock grabbed his captain from the man's hold, carried him with great care to the bunk and gently placed him down. His mind totally on his friend's injured form, he was unaware of anything else until roughly hoisted to his feet and dragged away. He struggled, throwing guards from him as if they were rag dolls. His perception narrowed down to one objective; remove these men who kept him from his t'hy'la's side.

"Stun gas." The frantic order barely registered in his enraged mind. As he slipped down into unconsciousness his only thoughts were of Jim.

Bright lights filtered through his half-closed eyelids. He blinked, opened his eyes and glanced around the small cabin. Tentatively he flexed his arm muscles and found his biceps securely restrained by tight metal bands. Exploring further, he discovered himself bound at waist and legs. Still nauseated by the lingering effects of the gas, he cautiously mind-searched and was rewarded by the faint echo of his captain's thoughts. Assured now of Jim's safety and knowing his own counterpart would do all in his power to help, Spock turned his attention to his own predicament.

He was not alone. The soft breathing of another was audible to his sensitive hearing, and he extended his awareness to touch a familiar presence. He recoiled and a moment later felt an open-handed blow across his face.

He looked up to see the too-familiar eyes upon him, swallowing the painful obstruction in his throat at the realisation of the unknown, never-before-seen hatred on those features. "Jim," he murmured as if trying to dispel the horrific emotions aimed so maliciously at him.

For a few seconds the hate disappeared to be replaced with a childlike confusion Spock had occasionally witnessed in his own captain. However it soon returned, scalding the Vulcan with its intensity. Suddenly recognising what he was strapped into, he braced himself for the worst. On the planet Organia he had been subjected to a similar device. Then it had been possible to fool the Klingons by using mind-techniques to impart false information. Kirk would not be as easily deceived as the inept Klingon soldiers who had interrogated him.

"This is a device we took from our vanquished enemies, the Klingons," the human explained. "We don't know very much about it yet, but are experimenting with the possibilities." He indicated a small viewer with attached electrodes lying tangled on the desk. "Images from a person's mind can be seen on this screen. It's most amusing at times." He fingered the small, round disks, slowly unravelling their thin cords, straightening them carefully. "These electrodes are placed on the head and face. Once I turn the machine on, it begins to pluck the thoughts from the brain." He grinned malevolently. "At certain frequencies it can cause severe pain, perhaps enough to disturb a Vulcan. I have so wanted to get my hands on a Vulcan subject."

Spock remembered the power of the mind-sifter only too well. In Kirk's vengeful hands it would be an all-out assault on his mind, scooping out his innermost thoughts, destroying him completely. He calmed himself. "Captain, there is no need for this revenge. I have experienced the device before. It is ineffective against Vulcans." The lie came easily to his lips.

"Captain, why persist in this madness? Release us. Return us to our own universe. Reinstate Spock. He only wishes what is best. He needs you by his side."

"I will not be silenced. You are not my captain. I do not take orders from you."

His face flushed, the human positioned the electrodes on his prisoner. "Just wait," he hissed, "you'll beg me for mercy."

Spock continued in his attempt to reason with him. "Where is the logic in your actions? You cannot hope to succeed in your plans for Spock. He is a Vulcan and the best first officer in the Fleet. He has not betrayed you. Starfleet will not permit his execution.

"They'll allow his execution when they learn of his traitorous behaviour," Kirk snapped. "And I'll find the proof, one way or another."

"You will find out nothing from either my captain or myself. You are deliberately acting in a malicious manner. It is illogical for a starship commander to indulge in torturing others like some mindless tyrant. You only hurt yourself. Can you not see this? Use your intelligence. No James Kirk can be a fool."

Spock sighed as Kirk turned his attention to the console before him. There was no reasoning with the man. This was not the compassionate Jim Kirk but some obscene travesty.. The mirror image was ruled by the ruthless side of his character, untempered by the warm, gentle humanity so much a part of Jim.

Spock prepared himself for the onslaught against his mind. He called upon all of his training, determined to block his thoughts from the probe. It began with the familiar tickling sensation. The Klingons had not proceeded beyond this minimum pressure to gain their knowledge about the dealer in kivas and trillium. He deliberately allowed access to certain memories about his scientific duties and experiments. Not once did he allow his friendship for Jim to show; only envisioning him as a remote figure of authority, respected and obeyed.

The tickling increased in intensity until it became a raging itch. He fought the probe with all of his strength but a wave of sheer agony ripped through his head as the pressure escalated. He had never known such pain. It attacked him in gut-wrenching waves, causing involuntary tremors in his limbs. The mind-sifter continued to drill at his barriers, unrelenting in its controller's hands until Spock accepted that it would be impossible to resist its entry to the deepest parts of his mind. It would take his secrets. Kirk would learn of his real relationship with Jim and use that against them. He would learn of Spock's true identity - and McCoy's position as servant to the prince. The knowledge would be enough to instigate a rampage of violence from Kirk, who in his unpredictable jealousy could destroy them all.

He had two choices. Either initiate K'hesrann, thereby causing his own death, or seek help. K'hesrann was not acceptable at the present time. That would leave Jim trapped alone here, unable to return home and subject to torture and death at Kirk's hands. There was only one possible course of action. He and his counterpart must join forces again..

He reached out for the security of his twin's mind. The other encompassed him, infusing him with the strength to oppose the intruder. They clung together, quivering with fear, for both knew they had everything to lose if Kirk reached his goal. All of their secrets exposed. Spock's mind emptied - a living death.

A tiny part of his mind whispered the name of his t'hy'la. Reassurance that Jim was alive and not in danger eased the fear and grimly he held on, bolstered by his alternate's highly trained psi-power. They merged together as one mind until neither knew where one began and the other ended, floating together in limbo. Unaware now of any outside influence they knew one another in total telepathic intimacy.

The intercom buzzed persistently. "Damn," Kirk depressed the button. "What is it?

"Captain," Uhura's voice said. "Unknown vessels approaching. They do not answer my hailing signals. Rendezvous in fifteen minutes."

He turned to the unmoving Vulcan, annoyed at the interruption. He had learned some interesting facts about the alternate-universe, nothing of real importance yet, but he was positive the Vulcan was weakening. With a sigh of disappointment, he disconnected the mind-sifter and called for his men to return the prisoner to the cell. There was plenty of time. Once the Pyran revolt was settled, there would be ten long days to devote to breaking the Vulcan and his captain.

He strode through the corridors, a satisfied air about him. This was his ship. All obeyed him, everyone feared his might. There would be no more assassination attempts on him now. The crew saluted respectfully, many openly showing their apprehension of him. He smiled with delight; the only way to command was through fear, unlike that 'Knight in Shining Armour' in Spock's mind. Captain James - the perfect - Kirk.

He entered the lift, instructed it to go to the bridge and stood, arms crossed, savouring the power which surrounded him. He stroked the bare flesh of his upper arms, enjoying the shiver that ran up and down his spine. Enterprise was his, only his, there was no Vulcan here to challenge him. How could he ever have believed that ridiculous story of Spock not wanting command? Everyone wanted command. It was the ultimate high, better than drugs, better than sex, superior to all the exotic sensations of the galaxy.

As he stepped onto the Bridge, Scott rose from the command chair. "Sir, the vessels appear to have come from Pyra."

"Aye. It's foolish, but they're a fiercely independent people who have never taken kindly to empire rule."

Kirk settled into his chair. "They'll learn the hard way." A grin covered his face as he anticipated the battle. "Phaser crew, standby." He swivelled to Uhura. "Transmit this message. 'If you do not surrender unconditionally, we will destroy you. You have one minute to comply.' Now, Uhura."

The reply came within seconds. "We do not surrender. We are not slaves of the Empire. We are an independent world. Leave us alone."

Angry at their defiance, Kirk gave the order to fire. Soon the enemy ships were blasted out of existence by the superior weapons of the Enterprise. Kirk smiled with satisfaction. It had not been much of a battle, but he looked forward to much more resistance from the Pyrans.

"Good, I'm just ready to destroy a world. All they have to do is provoke me... just a little."

Scott moved over to the centre seat. "Begging your pardon, Captain, but Starfleet wants this planet left intact. There are too many priceless dilithium deposits on it."

Kirk's fury erupted violently at the reminder. He grabbed the engineer's shirt, pulled him closer and dug strong fingers into his neck. "Keep your place, Mr. Scott, or you might end up like Sulu and Chekov."

The Scot stared at the captain, his normal respect turning to a smouldering resentment which showed in his eyes. Kirk released him. He had been lenient with the engineer, allowing the man too many liberties. No more. He would be obeyed implicitly by all of his crew, none would be permitted to question him. They would learn that his word was absolute law.

Kirk stared straight ahead, aware of the fearful glances he was being given. A deep sense of isolation swept him, settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, chilling him. He was truly alone now. He had no-one except Farrell to trust. How long before even that small comfort was taken from him and his faithful uncle also abandoned him.

As they achieved orbit around Pyra, he savagely dismissed his morbid thoughts. He had a planet to conquer, there was no time for his personal problems. "Contact the planetary council, Uhura," he ordered. "Let's see if they want to be annihilated?"

Absolute power at his fingertips, better than drugs, better than sex, superior to all the exotic sensations of the galaxy.

How lang and dreary is the night When I am frae my Dearie, I restless lie from e'en to morn Tho I were ne'er sae weary.

ROBERT BURNS, How lang and dreary is the night.

Sulu watched helpless as his commanding officers dematerialised and as soon as he was released from the confinement of the Enterprise beam, he flipped open his communicator and called the ship. "Mr. Scott, a transporter beam has taken the Captain and Mr. Spock."

The Scot cursed then issued cool, controlled orders. "We'll handle it, Mr. Sulu. Co-ordinate rescue services. Report to me as frequently as ye can. Scott out."

Sulu followed orders and was soon caught up in the desperate bid to minimise the effects of the disaster. Severe aftershocks and the panic-stricken Halkans hampered the rescuers but the crew was trained to deal with any emergencies. They succeeded in their efforts until the sound of the approaching water, once restrained by the now breached dam, reached a thunderous roar. Hundreds were trampled as the terrified people stampeded in all directions.

A deep chill of terror filled Sulu as the torrent rushed down the narrow gorge. Only moments now until it flooded the town and drowned everyone in its path... He tried to remember that Spock had relayed the method to contain it but Sulu was only human and unable to restrain his doubts and fears. He could only fall back on his intensive training under the command of the unique team of Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock. He concentrated on his responsibilities, pushed his concerns aside and regained his composure.

The Halkans' screams of horror changed to cries of wonder as a shimmering force-field pierced the purple sky to form a protective barrier. The two powers battled for supremacy like some ancient gods of sea and sky and Sulu held his breath. Would the Enterprise be able to match this awesome force of nature? He had no time for further speculation as the next tremor hit. The ground shifted ominously under his feet; the sharp crack of splitting rock warned him of the imminent danger and he leaped away, fell down and tumbled over. Something heavy hit his forehead and he felt the warmth of his own blood as it began to stream down his face. He shook his head, trying to clear the fogginess from his mind.

He struggled to his feet, swaying unsteadily. Disorientated, he stumbled forward, unaware that he was heading directly towards a gaping chasm.

He hesitated at the sound, lifted a trembling hand to touch his brow then brought it down startled when he saw the redness covering his palm. Dizziness overcame him and he staggered. It was essential to find medical help; he could not participate in the rescue operation in this condition. His lips tried to form words but his voice refused to obey him. He wiped the blood away from his eyes. Where was he? He could barely see a thing! Was he going blind?

His legs were caught in a fierce tackle and he crashed to the ground. He scrabbled at the grass beneath his fingers, trying to find purchase on its soft surface. His orders were to co-ordinate the rescue parties. Where was his communicator?

He was gently lifted and his head cushioned on a warm lap. He tried to see who held him, but his eyes were still covered by a stream of red. He reached out, searching, and his fingers were firmly clasped between two slender, feminine hands.

Scotty sat on the command chair, fretting over his feelings of total inadequacy. All who could be spared were down on the planet, assisting in the terrible aftermath of the disaster. The Enterprise was being run by a skeleton crew working non-stop to keep the low orbit necessary to maintain the force field. The demands being made on his engines were alarming. There could be a disastrous overload!

Lt. Ben-Levi, the deputy science officer, was co-ordinating the search for the captain and first officer. "Mr. Scott, readings indicate that the transporter beam originated from the parallel universe. We have established that some unknown action taken there has, in likelihood, affected Halka. There is a rift in the barrier between the universes."

Scott swore under his breath as he realised what had happened. The orders to destroy Halka in the other universe must have been carried out and because the barrier was weak, the fabric of space had been damaged, allowing this side to be affected by those happenings.

He closed his eyes wearily. No, they can't have been kidnapped by their counterparts.

There was no other answer, despite all the arguments he tried to find against it. Their doubles in that other universe were vicious pirates and would stop at nothing to get their revenge.

"Mr. Scott," Ben-Levi's worried voice penetrated his musing. "Are you all right?"

"Aye, I understand what ye're saying, lass," he said. He turned to the communications officer to voice the order there had been no time to issue earlier. "Get me Starfleet Command."

He informed the shocked members of the Admiralty Board of the events, and received assurances that all available rescue ships would be sent to assist them. He was warned that on no account was he to attempt to cross the inter-dimensional barrier in search of the missing command team. Scientific specialists would be dispatched at once to study the phenomena. He was to expend all Enterprise resources to help the Halkans until relief ships arrived. Scotty slumped in his chair, only too aware of the unnatural silence from the bridge crew. They all knew that Starfleet had pronounced the death sentence on Kirk and Spock. Intellectually he knew the decision to be correct; to attempt to breach the unstable barrier could cause further repercussions. Both the captain and first officer would have given him exactly the same order, but emotionally he rebelled against the restraints. Two of the finest men in the Federation were in the hands of an evil empire. Scott shuddered at what their fate might be.

With steely resolve he returned to the burden of command, feeling it weigh very heavily upon his shoulders.

Sulu came to awareness. He heard the sound of muted voices, anguished moans, terrified sobbing and remembered exactly where he was. He tried to sit up but a firm hand held him down.

"Relax, you have a concussion. Dr. McCoy is sending you back to the ship for a while."

"Oh, no you don't," McCoy's authoritative words stopped him. "You're no use to anyone if you have a concussion. You need a little rest, then you can return here." The med.-scanner hummed as the Doctor took a reading. "Hmm, a few hours sleep and you'll be just fine, son. Lucky, Uhura stopped you or you'd be one very dead young man."

"You were hit by something. Almost knocked you out but you stumbled on, heading for an enormous crevasse. If Uhura hadn't acted, you'd have fallen right in. Damn finest football tackle I ever saw." McCoy smiled, pressed a shot into Sulu's arm and studied the scanner readout.

Sulu gripped her hand tightly, his gratitude towards her overwhelming him. "Nyota... "

A tear slipped down her cheek. "Please, we'll talk later. I just want to tell you how sorry I am for treating you so badly."

"Nyota, I understand," Sulu murmured, the relief over their reconciliation causing him intense happiness. "It doesn't matter."

She smiled, wiped the tear away with the back of her hand, and spoke in a tremulous voice. "He was vicious and cruel and would have killed me without compunction. He... he wanted me with such violent lust. At the time I was able to deal with it, but later I had time to think about what could have happened... "

"I know," she replied, leaning over to tenderly kiss his forehead. She stroked his hair. "I've been such a fool. Whatever must you think of me?"

A comforting warmth stole over Sulu's body and he sighed with contentment. Uhura sat back, squeezed his hand, then slowly rose to her feet. After a shy smile to McCoy, she left the temporary hospital area to resume her work.

"Lord, she's one gorgeous woman. I envy the man who has her affection." the Doctor drawled. "Okay, Hikaru, someone will be along to take you to the beamdown point. Just relax."

"What about the Captain and Mr. Spock?" Sulu asked, before McCoy could move away.

The doctor's face was tired and deeply lined as he wearily related the news. Sulu closed his eyes, horror spreading through every cell in his body. The captain and first officer in the hands of those savage barbarians! Hot tears stung his eyelids as fear for the two commanding officers he idolised settled like ice into his heart.

Scott lay down on his bed. He had been on duty for so long that he had almost fallen asleep in the centre seat. Dr. M'Benga had ordered him off-duty for rest and he had conceded only after much protest. With DeSalle in charge, he was able to relax a little. The lad was an excellent officer, definitely command potential, and well capable of running the ship.

The drain on his engines worried Scott. Although the water had now been diverted, the geologists were unable to predict if any other seismological disturbances would follow. Much depended on the happenings in the other universe. If that Kirk decidesto blast Halka again... Scotty shuddered at the thought. There had been no further 'ghost' readings, and the cosmologists had tentatively reached the conclusion that the other Enterprise was no longer orbiting Halka.

Once thing was certain; the area close to the Halkan city was now highly unstable. Further ground movements were possible, if not immediately - any time in the future. All the experts Starfleet could mobilise would be arriving within the next few weeks. The technology existed to stabilise such faults and there was no doubt that Halka would be offered this aid. The proud, independent people down there had wanted to be left alone, to live their lives in their own way but the actions of the mirror-Kirk had destroyed that option. Now they would be forced into accepting Federation help and in gratitude would almost certainly supply them with dilithium.

He tried to sleep but it evaded him. He had been unable to check on the status of his beloved engines for too long. Perhaps now, it would be possible to inspect them but sheer exhaustion claimed his body and he was totally unable to move. He lay awake for many long hours, his muscles tense, his mind overactive as he worried about the ship, the captain and first officer, the tragedy on the planet below, and his bairns, his little dearies. Did they miss his loving touch?

As he finally slid into restless slumber, the words of an old Scots poem drifted into his mind. 'How lang and dreary is the night'.

As further tremors caused more chaos and destruction on the planet, the pressure on the weary crew of the Enterprise continued unabated, until relieved by an armada of science and medical ships led by the U.S.S. Excalibur. It was with great relief that acting-Captain Montgomery Scott handed over the responsibility and ordered his crew to take much needed rest. Wearily, he briefed the newcomers, noting the wonder on their faces on hearing about the achievements of his crew.

There was an empty feeling inside everyone aboard with the sure knowledge that the other Enterprise from the parallel universe was no longer detectable on the instruments. With its disappearance, any final hope of rescuing their commanding officers had died. Even if permission was given to search, the chances of finding them were minimal.

Scotty sat in the command chair, his heart and mind filled with the deepest sorrow he had ever known. McCoy stood by his side, his blue eyes unashamedly misting with tears. The atmosphere on the bridge was heavy as every officer recalled the heroic young captain and the brilliant science officer who had led them through so many dangers.

The sensors were still fixed on the shifting patterns of the damaged inter-dimensional barrier, but still no further signs of the ghost readings had been observed. The science vessels turned their specialised instruments on the phenomenon. The astronomers exchanged excited speculation over the unusual data but the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise had no interest in the scientific euphoria.

They were in mourning for the two unique beings whose like they would never see again.

There's a heart that leaps with a burning glow The wronged and the weak to defend; And strikes as soon for a trampled foe As it does for a soul-bound friend. ELIZA COOK, - The Englishman.

Uhura knew there would never be a better opportunity. Kirk, after destroying the capital city of the most powerful nation on Pyra, had beamed down to accept the surrender of the planet's remaining leadership. He had taken Farrell and a large security contingent. Scott was in command of the Enterprise and the disgruntled engineer was still smarting from his earlier clash with Kirk.

She slid from her chair. "Not much, Mr. Scott. It'll take a major overhaul of the complete communications network. That can only be done at a starbase."

He sighed, opened his mouth to speak then changed his mind and remained silent. Uhura knew he had bitten back a criticism of their commanding officer.

"May I leave the bridge, Mr. Scott." She smiled at him. "I must prepare for the captain's return."

Scott shook his head. "Lassie, does being the captain's woman mean that much to ye? I thought you were different."

Uhura shrugged. "It's the only way for a woman to get promotion, no matter how good she is at her job. You know that. Don't you go by those rules yourself?" He had the grace to flush at her question. "Anyway, I'm not a fool like Marlena. I know how to please him."

"Aye, no doubt. Well ye had better go, or else he'll blame me for keeping you here."

Uhura touched his shoulder sympathetically. "He doesn't appreciate you, Scotty." It was all she dared say to him, but from his troubled expression knew that he believed it to be true.

Scotty had always respected Spock and perhaps could be recruited to his service. However, Uhura's first task was to rescue the prisoners. How could she manage to reach them without arousing suspicion? It would be possible to take the guards by surprise once the force field was down but she was unable to cancel it herself for Kirk had taken elaborate security precautions.

As she made her way to the brig, an idea began to form in her mind. The other-Kirk had been beaten up by the captain. If she could get McCoy into the detention area that might help her rescue bid. Yet she dare not yet confide in the doctor. Sickbay was normally monitored; security scans would reveal any conspiracy. She would have to work alone until the very last moment and hope that McCoy would follow her lead.

She brushed at her hair, adjusted her short skirt to show a little more leg, and tugged her uniform top down until her cleavage was even more exposed. As the lift came to a halt she took a deep breath, waited for the doors to open, then walked out and along the corridor to the detention area. Two tall officers stood there; not exactly the smartest on the ship but that was to her advantage.

She reached out to touch his broad chest. "Oh, Mr. Galloway, you can't seriously believe he included me in that order?"

Uhura's hands gently caressed the muscled form. "Oh c'mon now, Lieutenant. I'm the captain's woman, and second-in-command while he's away. If I tell him you disobeyed my order, he might just try you in the booth on double duration."

Galloway wavered and glanced at the other man for help. "She's right, of course."

"Sure, there's no harm in letting her take a look," Josephs, the other guard agreed.

Uhura's eyes widened. "Search the captain's woman!" she exclaimed. "How dare you. I'll tell him and then see what kind of punishment he metes out to you." Her anger was genuine. It was also tinged with fear. She could not permit a search.

The man's frightened expression betrayed him and suddenly changing tactics, Uhura chuckled softly. "Anyway, just where could I hide a weapon in this outfit?"

She stepped back and twirled around, displaying herself for the two men. They grinned appreciatively at her performance, then waved her in. She deliberately swayed her hips as she walked past them, her thoughts full of contempt. What fools men are!

She stared into the cell. Kirk lay on a bed. His upper body had been stripped and there were dark bruises marking his smooth tanned skin. His face was swollen, a deep cut split his lip, and he had a black eye. His breathing was laboured but he made no other sounds despite his obvious discomfort. The un-bearded Spock leaned over his captain, bathing him with a damp cloth. Her master, the prince, stood in the centre of the cell, his eyes closed. She studied him. He looked tired and drawn in a way she had never seen before. His normal healthy, green-tinged skin was sallow; his usually ramrod-straight posture almost slumped with weariness.

At her scrutiny, his eyes flicked open. In them she read surprise then curiosity. Checking that the guards were behind her and unable to see, she carefully raised her hand, giving the Vulcan salute of servant to master. His eyebrow climbed as he recognised the significance of her action.

Now was the moment to bring her plan into action. "Guard," she called urgently. "Summon Dr. McCoy. One of the prisoners is seriously ill."

Spock smiled very slightly at her, then turned to his counterpart, exchanged a long look with him then also leaned over the figure on the bunk. As if by command, Kirk began to moan, his body convulsing; he screamed as if in unendurable agony.

"You fool, can't you see he's having convulsions! If he dies, the captain will have you both executed," she snapped. "Call McCoy."

The man obeyed. Two more officers rushed to join them and all five people watched as the Vulcans tried to restrain the writhing human. Uhura was impressed by the convincing performance and her admiration for this other-Kirk increased. She waited impatiently but it seemed like hours before McCoy arrived although she knew only minutes had passed.

Uhura stepped backand made her way behind the unsuspecting guards. She watched as the security codes were accessed and, as the force-field dissolved, she reached into her boot, drew out her tiny, ornamental dagger and pressed the concealed button on the hilt. The blade slid into the hidden sheath within the handle, a small barrel emerged and she fired the miniature phaser, stunning the security men before they could reach for their weapons.

McCoy stared at her in shock but she smiled, showed the Vulcan salute and he relaxed, his own smile rivalling hers as he realised she was on their side. Spock walked over to her and she bowed her head in obeisance, awaiting his orders.

She sensed his presence immediately in front of her, and kept her face hidden as his hand touched her head. "Who are you?" his deep voice inquired.

"I am Uhura, assigned to my lord's protection by His Majesty, the Emperor. I was not permitted to reveal my identity unless your life was in danger. I beg forgiveness for my inability to release you sooner, and submit myself to your punishment if I have failed in my duty."

He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. His hypnotic gaze pinioned her but she did not flinch from him. "May I confirm this?" he asked.

She was startled by his request yet felt curiously warmed by it. He did not need to ask. She was required to co-operate with any form of questioning he desired. With a smile she nodded, unable to speak as relief over his safety finally overwhelmed her. His touch was gentle and she welcomed it, opening her mind as she had been taught to by the Vulcan Masters.

I thank you,Uhura, he said in her mind after learning of her efforts to protect him. It was logical to provide me with an operative unknown even to me. You have done well. You will be rewarded.

He withdrew from her mind and she sighed with delight at his approval. His dark eyes seemed to soften as he watched her and, melting under his spell, she lifted his hand, pressing her lips to the palm with adoration. He patted her hair, gently drew his fingers away and turned to the three watching men.

McCoy chewed at his lip, bent his head and murmured. "No, my prince All long range communications have been damaged. I beg forgiveness."

Spock raised a slanted brow. "Indeed. Well it is not your fault. I forgive you. I wish all medical staff, who can be trusted, issued hypos filled with dyzocaine. The crew who will not join me must be incapacitated, then imprisoned."

McCoy bowed over his master's outstretched hand, lightly clasped it in his and kissed the palm. Over his head, Uhura saw the amazement on the faces of the two alternates. Even the unemotional scientist stood with his mouth slightly open.

"The captain needs medical attention. See to it at once," Spock commanded. As McCoy obeyed, the prince turned to Uhura. "I must proclaim myself and take over the ship."

Uhura and the prince stripped the phasers from the prone guards and with the help of the other Vulcan, placed the men into the cell. McCoy gave Kirk some swift treatment for his injuries then after a glance to the prince, the doctor hurried away.

"I'll manage," Jim replied, flashed him a determined grin and pulled his shirt on.

Uhura handed him a phaser and found herself the recipient of that brave, stunning smile. Already half in love with him she returned it, suddenly envious of her own counterpart in his universe who had the privilege of working with such a man.

The prince remained still for a few moments, drawing upon all of his strength for the coming ordeal. He straightened and assumed his mantle of royalty around him knowing he could project the very picture of regal authority.

Jim exchanged a startled look with his first officer but Uhura only smiled, her beauty enhanced by the glow of happiness within her. The three remained silent, awaiting orders, for there was no doubt now as to who was in command.

The prince strode down the corridor, closely followed by the small armed party of Uhura, Jim and Spock. Crewmen shrank against the bulkheads as the determined foursome passed by and once at the turbo-shaft, Spock turned to address the confused and startled people.

"This ship is now under my command. I take her in the name of my grandfather, Emperor Demetrius and my great-grandmother, T'Pau - Matriarch of Vulcan. I am the prince of both Empires. You will swear allegiance to me at once."

His penetrating gaze raked them, fear of Vulcan abilities made them to tremble. One by one they bowed to him and satisfied by their homage, he entered the lift. The others followed, Jim chuckling softly.

Jim grinned then winced as his split lip began to bleed again. "That's quite a trick."

"Your manner. You almost make me want to pay homage to the 'Royal Prince'," Jim answered. He wiped the blood from his mouth.

"I shall require it," Spock replied, not allowing his amusement to show. He exchanged a short telepathic discourse with his counterpart and bolstered by the knowledge that Jim disliked, even abhorred showing obeisance to so called 'royalty', could not resist the impulse to tease further. "I will no longer deny my heritage. I am the prince of two Empires. All will bow to me."

Jim's eyes lit up with laughter, and in amazement, Spock realised that his intention had been read perfectly. "Then I will bow to you, Lord Prince, if that is what you desire."

Spock's vision blurred, his own captain's face superimposing itself over the gentler features of the man beside him. "It is not your homage I seek but his." The image faded, the alternate's youthful, bruised features came into focus again. "Do you think I will succeed?"

Jim hesitated then replied. "He'd be a fool not to give what is rightfully yours."

The prince was unable to restrain the overwhelming surge of pleasure the human's words evoked. A wide grin crossed his normally grave features to be met by Jim's delighted smile and a touch of mind-laughter from the other Vulcan.

"That's only the second time I've received a grin like that from a Vulcan," Jim said with an amused glance to his first officer.

"Indeed, Captain," Spock remarked. "However due to the circumstances it was an entirely logical response."

The turbo-lift slowed, halting the friendly banter. As the doors opened, the two Vulcans stepped out, phasers drawn, with the humans bringing up the rear. Scott jumped out of his chair, his eyes widening with shock.

"You will all remain perfectly still," Spock warned. He moved forward and without further delay, revealed his identity to the stunned crew. Their ready acceptance of his status warmed him, for he had been loath to resort to violence against them, and within minutes, the full bridge crew had sworn allegiance to him.

"What'll ye do about the rest of the crew, sir?" Scott asked. "I know there are many dissatisfied with the captain and his methods."

He considered the matter. Starship captains ruled by fear and bribery. Kirk was one of the most intelligent, ruthless officers in the fleet. There had always been dissension amongst the crew, but most were too afraid of antagonising a captain who had the protection of a Vulcan first officer. The realisation hit Spock that he was directly responsible for having kept such a man in power.

An empty, hollow feeling clawed at the Vulcan's stomach as the recollection of that other Enterprise, received from his counterpart's mind, filled his inner vision. To live and work on such a ship, with such a captain... "Those who accept me are free to continue their work, the rest will be imprisoned," he finally answered. He gestured to Uhura. "Take over your station. Disconnect ship to surface communications. I do not wish Kirk to be alerted by anyone."

Jim stood by his friend as the prince made his startling announcement to the crew. Despite McCoy's painkillers, he was hurting from the pounding given to him by his counterpart. However the relief at the turn of events was enough to help him ignore his discomfort. For the first time since their kidnapping, he was beginning to believe that he and Spock would be able to return home. He looked up at his own loyal unassuming Vulcan, so very different from the prince, without that royal air of command about him. He smiled to himself and sighed with contentment at his lot. He had much to be thankful for. What did Kirk of this universe have? Nothing now. The crew of the I.S.S. Enterprise, with very few exceptions, followed the command of the prince.

Respect for the Empire was deeply ingrained, or perhaps the crew thought that to refuse the Vulcan's orders might bring them and their families a painful death. The fear of imperial revenge was far more potent than that of one starship captain. The fact that the prince was a rebel was a consideration they would all have to face one day. Whether they would remain loyal was unknown but Jim hoped that he and Spock would be home by then. Yet he wished this strangely, compelling Spock to succeed in his plans. The prince with his inherited power and deep-seated wishes for justice might be able to change the excesses of the Empire to a more democratic system.

However without the support of his Kirk, it might be well nigh impossible. Spock needed his captain just as his own Vulcan relied on him for companionship and support. He suspected that the reverse was also true. The mirror-captain was dependent on his Spock but would pride allow him to submit to the leadership of his former subordinate? Would his jealousy and petty behaviour subside? Would he accept the Vulcan's royal status and give the homage required of him?

Jim's thoughts returned to the ordeals he and Spock had endured at the man's hands and recoiled, trying to control his revulsion for the one who wore his face. A warm touch on his back brought him to instant alertness, and he grinned with embarrassment at his friend.

"Your injuries are paining you, Jim. You need further medical treatment," Spock said.

Jim stared at him with disbelief. Who said that Vulcans could not lie? There was strain in the normally calm eyes, deep tension lines on the forehead. "The bastard. Just wait 'til I get my hands on him," he muttered.

Spock's sensitive hearing must have caught his remark for the slanted brow rose sharply in a disapproving gesture to the strong language. Jim smiled an apology and returned his attention to the new commander of the I.S.S. Enterprise.

The Kirk of this barbaric universe was heading for the biggest shock of his life, and Jim wanted to be around to see every moment of the man's humiliation.

Kirk flipped his communicator open. The mission had been successful and he was pleased. The destruction of their capital city had brought the Pyrans to their knees. Faced with the total devastation of their world they had capitulated to his every demand, grovelling in the dirt at his feet. That sight had boosted his ego and he had magnanimously allowed the leaders to live.

He would receive another medal for this victory and the credits would bolster his finances considerably. Maybe enough to bribe a few admirals into sentencing a certain Vulcan to death. A wave of bitter regret slid through him. Spock dead! The one man he had been able to talk with on an equal level. The brilliant scientist whose support had brought him so much status in Starfleet, and a companion he had been able to relax with during their occasional chess games.

"Damn," he muttered as an ache rose in his throat, threatening to engulf him. "Damn that bastard for subverting Spock."

Kirk did not spare him a glance as he called the ship. He could barely speak the words necessary to identify himself.

Kirk recalled the shapely body of his new lover and shivered a little, in response to the stimulus of his thoughts. Once aboard, he would order Uhura to his quarters. "Start beaming up landing parties, Uhura. The first group are at these co-ordinates."

"Aye, sir," she replied. "Transporter lock verified. Five persons to beam aboard. Energising now."

Kirk closed his eyes and allowed his fantasies of the coming night to occupy him as he felt the familiar tingle of the beam on his body. The sense of displacement lasted for a split second, and as he materialised on the pads was still caught up within his own private world of passionate kisses, the warm, voluptuous female form under him, the sound of her cries as he...

The first awareness of wrongness hit him when Farrell's soft gasp reached his ears. He opened his eyes, disbelieving what he saw. The prisoners he had left locked in the brig stood at the console, their phasers aimed right at him!

Icy fear and shock caused him to hesitate for a few moments, but that was enough time for the landing party to be surrounded and disarmed by their former colleagues from security. As he realised what was happening, Kirk began to struggle until a stern, commanding voice rang out, halting him.

The other members of the landing party were hustled out of the room, leaving him standing alone on the dais. Blind fury tore at his guts as he realised that he'd been tricked, but control was essential. He was cornered, trapped like a hunted animal yet he would not allow anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cower. He was a starship captain and no-one would intimidate him. He clenched his fists against his sides, determined to defy the Vulcan.

"So, you escaped," he scorned. "Trying to take over my ship, are you? Well, you won't get away with it."

Kirk lifted his chin in defiance. He met the Vulcan's black stare but unable to stand the piercing demand in those eyes, he blinked and glanced away. At the edge of his vision he noticed the amused flicker of a smile cross Spock's lips. At that, his barely held anger overwhelmed him, filling his whole being with such venom that he dived for his former prisoner's throat; the only thought in his mind to wipe the smile off that alien face.

He met strength so powerful, that panic surged through him in waves. He had never tested himself against Vulcan muscle, as he had always been afraid to be seen as weak compared to a subordinate. His only experience of being restrained by Spock had been immediately after his return from the other universe when the Vulcan had stopped his blow. It had scared him then and petrified him now. His fist connected with the hard Vulcan jaw but his satisfaction was short lived as he was ignominiously forced to his knees, both arms twisted behind his back, and his head pushed down until his face touched the deck.

More panic-stricken than he had ever been in his life, humiliated by his inability to defend himself, almost hysterical with fright at his predicament, Kirk reacted in the only way possible by spouting the foulest obscenities he knew at his captor. His unbridled fear increased at the realisation of his complete helplessness in that iron grip. His frantic struggles were totally useless and it took several seconds for the easing of that hold on him to register in his terror-filled brain. With a gasp of relief, he found himself able to regain the use of one arm. He clutched at the floor, trying to pull away, desperate to escape anywhere away from this nightmare of Spock in command, having power over him. Non-human strength dragged him backwards, his body hauled up until the back of his head touched the alien-heat of a hard muscled chest. Unable to stop his cry of fright, Kirk looked up to see the satanic features of the Vulcan looming over him. No... his mind screamed as he struggled in vain to escape. "NOooo... " He heard the unearthly sound that had somehow emerged from his own throat.

He felt the dreaded touch of the Vulcan nerve-pinch, and screamed with pain and horror as he spiralled down into oblivion and knew no more.