Shieldbearer

(An Alternate Universe Story)

Part Two

Kirk easily slipped into his position as Chief Navigator, showing his usual professional skill and competency, but he really felt at home during the times spent in the command chair, running the ship, feeling the immense power at his fingertips and under his control. The crew were willing and efficient, happy as they went about their jobs, but there was a noticeable difference when Mitchell commanded, a tension which could almost be felt. He knew that the situation did not augur well for the future of the ship and its crew, nor for the resumption of the once close friendship he had shared with Gary.

A sense of grim foreboding settled around him and despite his best efforts to ignore it, a pervading depression began to linger in the atmosphere. As they travelled at warp six to the galactic barrier - a mission which every starship had vied for - there was little to do except maintain the Enterprise at peak condition. Mitchell took no interest in the welfare of ship or crew, only dealing with the most vital of administrative work. Kirk chafed as he saw his hands were tied. He could see where improvements could be made, but Mitchell dismissed them all as unnecessary, and Kirk grew angrier as he came to the realisation that it was more like laziness on the Captain's part.

He was an initiator of new ideas and procedures, enthusing his colleagues with his innovations, always getting the best out of them, sharpening their wits as he discussed new variations and concepts; essential for morale and efficiency during long voyages.

Kirk admired Lt. Uhura, a beautiful, charming, highly competent officer who ran her section with the greatest of skill. He was highly attracted to her but did not presume to make advances. As First Officer he trod a dangerous line, wielding almost as much power as the Captain. He had to be very careful about personal relationships with any female crewmember. There were non-fraternisation codes between the ranks and they were there for very good reasons; the protection of junior crew and the maintenance of discipline and morale.

One evening after his duty shift, he noticed Mitchell blocking Uhura's way in the corridor.

"Excuse me, Captain," Uhura was saying.

The tall, muscular Mitchell towered over her petite form. "Aw c'mon, Uhura. Be nice to your Captain." He leaned over to touch her face, laughing as she shrank back.

"You are drunk, sir. Please step aside," she insisted, her face full of anger.

He ignored her, bending down to pull her close. Kirk quickly intervened to nudge him away. "Lt. Uhura, allow me to escort you," he said.

Mitchell turned to look at him. "Ah, Sir Galahad himself. The rescuer of beautiful maidens. Butt out, I saw this one first."

"Captain, I strongly recommend that you retire to your quarters," Kirk suggested, keeping his tone calm but firm.

Mitchell laughed. "Are you telling me what to do, Kirk?"

"I am suggesting you go to bed, Captain and not allow the rest of the crew to see you in a drunken condition."

"That's just what I want to do, old friend, but the little lady here is not very cooperative."

Uhura stared at him, her dark eyes smouldering with fury. With an apologetic glance at her, Kirk took a firm grip of Gary's arm and led him away. "Come on, Gary. I'll see you to your cabin."

Although Mitchell struggled, Kirk discreetly managed to steer him to his quarters. He settled the Captain onto the bed and pulled the covers over him, stared down at the now snoring man, then left the room to walk for a time in the corridors of the ship. A deep weariness encompassed him as he thought about Gary's behaviour.

"Commander," a voice called. He stopped, turned around, then smiled as he saw Uhura standing by the Rec-Room door. "Thank you," she said with a wide smile. "I know he didn't mean to be so boorish, but when he drinks he can be... "

"Obnoxious," Kirk finished for her. "I know and I'm sorry. That should never have happened."

Uhura glanced down nervously, but bracing her shoulders she stood straight and looked at him. "Sir, a captain should not behave so irresponsibly. He has already flattered and cajoled his way into the beds of some of the younger women." She stared up into his eyes, her expression full of determination. "He has hurt a few with his sheer callousness. Well, once he gets what he wants he just goes on to another. It's like a game to him, but he's playing with feelings. They're only young girls; they don't know. The last one was barely eighteen, a yeoman on her first tour of duty. She's devastated, sir. How can the crew respect a captain who behaves like that?"

It was worse than Kirk had suspected. But what was he to do about it? A captain had to take the responsibilities to his crew seriously. Any other course would undermine his authority. A captain who played favourites, using his position to win conquests for his own sexual gratification was dangerous - an abuser of trust. It had happened during the early days of Starfleet and had caused the worst type of tension; now command trainees were warned of the isolation a captain must live with if he was to keep the respect of his crew. He could not play the field. If he had a wife or lover, it had to be a permanent, stable relationship. Very few captains knew such a partnership. Almost all lived apart; remote, respected figures who could treat all with equality.

Uhura's beautiful ebony eyes looked into his. They were full of worry and apprehension. She certainly knew that Kirk was Mitchell's friend and it was obvious that she feared having said too much.

"Lt. Uhura, I'll try to curb his activities," he sought to reassure her. "I'll speak to him once he sobers up. I hadn't realised the extent of his behaviour. He'll listen to me."

"You were his Captain once, sir. He has told us just how good you were. I've seen myself how you command. Everyone respects you." She hesitated, then with a resolute expression on her face added, "Don't trust him, sir. He resents you."

Shock-waves slithered down Kirk's spine. What exactly was she warning him about? What Mitchell had done or said? "Lt. Uhura, what do you mean?"

"He knows that you should have been Captain of the Enterprise. He's afraid of you. Once when he was a little drunk - before you came aboard, sir - he told me that he'd enjoy making you obey him."

He shivered. Could Gary really be so insecure and petty? He had known him for so many years. They had been good friends, but Kirk had quickly gained seniority in rank and had been the commander between them for more than a year on their last ship. He tried to keep his emotions from showing, but suspected that Uhura was a highly perceptive woman and could easily see his dismay.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for your candour." He paused, uncertain how to phrase the delicate matter needing to be dealt with. "I think it would be in the interests of the female crew if all were made aware of the Captain's weakness. I - as a man - cannot approach them on the subject; it would be inappropriate. You as the highest ranking female officer aboard must be the one responsible for their welfare in this. Be assured that you have my support at all times and do not hesitate to speak to me about it if you require any assistance. No-one should use the privilege of rank to gratify personal desires."

Uhura relaxed, and suddenly smiled. "Commander Kirk, thank you, I'll tend to this. I'm glad you understand. I had a feeling about you. Most of us thought you'd be just like him, but you're not. You're an honourable man, sir."

He returned her smile. "Thank you, Lt. Uhura."

He excused himself and walked away, wanting and needing to be alone to think over her words. He headed for the Observation Deck where he could stare out at the stars, his thoughts able to roam freely, and perhaps he would find an answer to the worrying situation they were in. He entered one of the dark, empty cubicles, stared out of the viewscreen and swore softly to himself. What the hell was Gary doing? Surely he knew his behaviour was wrong? He had been through the rigorous command training courses. How was the Enterprise going to survive with such a man as her Captain?

A slight rustling sound disturbed his reverie. Quickly he twisted around and saw the Vulcan rising from a chair, deep within a shadowy corner. He relaxed. "Mr. Spock, I'm sorry, didn't know there was anyone here."

"Excuse me for startling you, sir. I was about to leave."

Kirk took a step towards him suddenly wanting to unburden himself to someone; to share his worries and problems. Spock stood unmoving, hesitation and uncertainty showing in his tense stance, but Kirk walked over until only inches away from the Vulcan, his eyes intent on the angular face, searching for... desperate for help.

"Are you aware of the problems on this ship, Mr. Spock?" he asked bluntly.

"To what specific problems do you refer, sir?" Spock asked.

"The Captain's behaviour and attitudes towards his crew. Specifically you - a non-human - and the women."

Spock blinked once, then stared curiously at the First Officer. "Captain Mitchell does not hide his dislike for me, Commander Kirk. That is of course, his concern."

"Not when it affects the smooth running of this ship, Commander Spock. Not in a federation of species which believes in the equality of all. There is unrest on the Enterprise, there is bigotry and sexual harassment, and it stems from Captain Mitchell."

"His attitude to the female crewmembers is most illogical," Spock conceded.

"His attitude is inappropriate for a starship captain. He is taking advantage of his position of power to influence impressionable young girls. The crew must be treated with respect. They need encouragement to learn and grow, to achieve their potential and not feel threatened by senior officers. They must not be the target of prejudice."

Spock could not take his eyes from the young First Officer, so passionate in his words and genuine in his beliefs. He had never met anyone like Kirk, so open and guileless with a nobility of spirit the Vulcan had never seen in a human before. As the candid hazel eyes regarded him with an appeal which struck deeply into his heart; a cool human hand suddenly touched his arm in a strong, firm grasp.

He tensed. A human was touching him! He sought to strengthen his shields to prevent the churning thoughts from assailing him. He awaited the disgust he always felt whenever unfortunate enough to be in physical contact with one of the species; the nauseating conflicts of their turbulent emotions. Instead he was aware only of a warm, understanding presence, full of emotion - yes - but a positive, energetic, dynamic personality who held genuine feelings of friendliness towards him.

Friendliness towards him! Spock took a very deep breath. He had never experienced anything like this from another. He was respected, feared, liked, resented. He had even been loved! However, he had always repulsed all those feelings, maintaining his isolation and aloofness from this disturbing species, not fully trusting any of them, suspicious of their motives, their lip-service to the brotherhood of all, whilst in reality they abused it continually.

Kirk was different. He knew it. Why? How could Kirk be different? Why was the touch on his arm not unwelcome? Suddenly the cool fingers were gone and he felt an illogical sense of disappointment.

"Mr. Spock, please forgive me. I know it is ill-mannered to touch you. For a moment I forgot that Vulcans prefer not to be touched." The expressive hazel eyes stared at him contritely.

Spock was startled by the courtesy this man showed. "I am not offended, sir," he assured. "There is nothing to forgive."

Kirk sighed deeply, his relief apparent. "Thank you, Mr. Spock."

"What do you wish me to do, sir?" Spock asked as a sudden awareness informed his confused mind of his willingness to do this Human's bidding.

The happiness flew straight from the smiling Kirk to connect with the telepathic senses of the Vulcan. "I wish us to be friends, Mr. Spock."

Time halted as Spock's thoughts tumbled around in an irregular fashion. Half-human - not worthy of the deep bond of t'hy'la. Half-Vulcan - too cold and emotionless for even ordinary human friendship. No-one had offered him what Kirk now did. He had never sensed such a warmth from anyone ever before. There were no flickers of fear or xenophobia, no envy, resentment or unsureness from even the first moment they had met. Kirk genuinely liked and accepted him without any reservations at all. Spock with his acute hearing had heard all the Captain's uncomplimentary remarks and had been well aware of Kirk's disapproval of them.

His breath caught and his heart began to race as he realised that in this eager, young human he had found... He cast the illogical thought aside. In his loneliness, he was imagining things. Accustomed all of his life to a solitary existence, he was certain that he had finally accepted it, but occasionally his treacherous human half betrayed him as it yearned for someone to reach through and end the isolation. Kirk's eyes never left him as he awaited a reply. This human standing close to him was full of an emotion so familiar, that Spock - startled by it - hesitantly, but compulsively reached out to touch the taut arm for confirmation that his telepathic impressions were truly correct. The deep well of loneliness in Kirk was raw with pain. Spock was unable to understand. How could Kirk, a man who drew people to him in some unknown mysterious fashion, possibly be lonely? How could such a one want and need the friendship of an alien who knew nothing about such a relationship? His fingers tightened on the hard, muscled biceps as he concentrated on the emanations exuding from this most unusual being.

Kirk's expression softened into an understanding half-smile as he recognised in the Vulcan, the same inner void which had always plagued his own life. He sighed imperceptibly as the warmer-than-human touch caused relaxation to spread through his body. Knowing though that Spock never made concessions to the social mores of humans and had always kept himself strictly private; Kirk did not dare raise any hopes over this atypical behaviour. Yet the tightening pressure on his arm was reassuring and his grin widened as he noted the easing of the strict, Vulcan countenance. The moment did not last. Kirk's happiness faded as Spock snatched his hand away as if burned.

"This is impossible," Spock said harshly, turning away to stare out at the speeding galaxy. "I am a Vulcan."

"I don't understand," Kirk said, consternation and disappointment in his tone.

"It is impossible to be your friend. I have no emotions. I cannot give you anything. Do not waste your time on me."

Kirk curbed his rising apprehension. Spock's words were inconsistent with his actions! Then the answer overwhelmed him in a sudden clarity of vision. A human/Vulcan hybrid, neither one nor the other, accepted by none; that was enough to make anyone insecure and wary of commitment. How often had Spock been hurt by both Vulcans and humans alike?

"Spock, when I came aboard and saw you, I sensed... I knew and felt as if I'd come home." He moved to stand in front of the Science Officer, aware of the importance of making him understand, but only seeing eyes full of apprehension which after a few moments resumed their normal impassivity. He swallowed his frustration and continued with his impassioned words.

"Do you know about my reputation? My success, my meteoric rise within the Fleet? My first command at the youthful age of twenty eight, my legendary leadership skills and uncanny ability to inspire others?" He grimaced and looked down for a second, but immediately returned to the reassuring security of the Vulcan's gaze. "My unlucky landing on Dimorus cost me the captaincy of the Enterprise, making my First Officer the Captain and me his First Officer." An expression of pain crossed his features. "So much for the Kirk luck! I can't complain, but if I'm to be an effective second-in-command I must guide Captain Mitchell onto the correct path. To do that I need the support of the senior crew."

He searched for any signs of understanding but found none on the expressionless alien face. His pain deepened and he laughed mirthlessly, his tone self-deprecating as he continued, "James T Kirk, popular young officer with his many friends and lovers has no-one to turn to, talk with or be comfortable with, except the few times I've been in your company. I feel... I know there is an affinity between us." Hot tears scalded his eyes. Horrified and embarrassed by his lack of control he forced them away. He noted the shock on the Vulcan's face and knew that he had gone too far. "Forgive me, Mr. Spock. You must think me an ignorant and insensitive fool to intrude on your privacy like this." What had he been saying? How must he have sounded to a non-emotional being? No, not non-emotional, but a reserved, very private person. "It's just that I feel content when you're with me," he added, compelled to explain his behaviour, not wanting the Science Officer to think ill of him.

Spock was silent for such a long time that Kirk thought he was never going to reply. He held his breath as he watched the Vulcan fight to school his features into the normal mask. He will turn from me, his mind tormented him. He will withdraw into his own well of loneliness. I've frightened him away with my emotional words.

"You are not ignorant nor insensitive, sir. You are being honest, and I do appreciate that. Humans are often lacking in honesty."

The relief that struck Kirk was overwhelming. "I know, Mr. Spock, I know," he murmured. He had not offended the Vulcan after all! The sudden release of tension left him lightheaded.

Spock forced himself to stand straight, trying not to move closer to Kirk, but drawn to him by something he could not comprehend. What was so compelling about this Human? Why was he different from any other? "Commander Kirk... " he began.

"Please call me Jim," the First Officer requested.

Despite the informality he knew was involved by the usage of a first name, Spock nodded slightly in acceptance. "Jim," he ventured hesitantly. In reply he was given a wide, delighted grin, and Spock discovered an unfamiliar tightness in his throat that caused his voice to emerge in an unnaturally hoarse tone. "I am honoured by your words but please understand that I am unfamiliar with friendship. I am a hybrid being, spanning two different cultures neither of whom claim nor want me. I am self-sufficient for I can rely only upon myself."

To his surprise, Kirk reached out to clasp his shoulders in a tight grip; a myriad of emotions flowing from him in sharp, intense waves. Automatically, Spock's highly developed senses analysed the curious phenomenon and reached a remarkable conclusion. There was sympathy, understanding, sorrow, compassion, and a deep desire to give.

Give! Give what?

"What kind of people are we?" Kirk asked bitterly. "We subscribe to the belief of universal brotherhood, yet two of the most important species in the Federation withhold it from one who is part of both cultures." Hazel eyes were wide and shining with emotion. "Spock, I claim you as my friend, I want you as my friend. Give me the chance to prove to you that you're not alone."

Spock's mind was reeling with the amount of human feelings flooding through the touch. He staggered physically under the power penetrating his shields, but strong hands supported him, instinctively compensating for his weakness. Confusion swept through his logical mind. Alone all of his life, and now faced with the very real prospect of the end to that solitude was devastating to his carefully, controlled composure."Jim," he murmured, leaning for the first time ever upon another person. "I am a Vulcan, I cannot be your friend. You would be hurt at my inability to give what is accepted amongst humans."

Kirk frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"My Vulcan-half dominates my behaviour pattern. I cannot accept a shallow, temporary friendship. I am unable to laugh or joke or carouse. It is impossible for me to enter into a hollow acquaintanceship. Vulcans bond in lifetime friendship. I cannot... I am unable to accept less."

Spock trembled. He had never before experienced the confusion and emotional response Kirk so easily wrenched from him. The human started to laugh and suddenly, inexplicably, Spock felt deep hurt at the other's reaction to his honest words. It twisted painfully in his gut but quickly diminished as the mercurial Kirk's eyes grew moist with hope and happiness. Receptive to the human's moods, Spock easily read him like the proverbial open book.

"Spock, I've known so many shallow friendships in my time, but have always yearned for something more, something binding and deep. Spock, can't you see it? We belong together. We're like two sides of a coin!"

T'hy'la. The word came unbidden into Spock's thoughts. He knew it with a surety which went beyond anything else ever known in his life. This man was more than friend; he was bondbrother, despite the fact of Kirk's humanity and his own. For the first time in his life, Spock knew the emotion of joy. He was no longer alone, no longer the one apart.

"T'hy'la." He spoke the revered term aloud.

Kirk's smile lit his face in a radiant glow as he appeared to understand the strange Vulcan word. "T'hy'la," he repeated wonderingly.

"RED ALERT. RED ALERT. CAPTAIN MITCHELL, COMMANDER KIRK, COMMANDER SPOCK TO THE BRIDGE". Lt. Uhura's urgent call rang through the ship's intercom system. "WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. I REPEAT, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK."

***

The two men spun into action and headed for the Bridge at breakneck speed.

Mr. Scott, the Chief Engineer, vacated the centre seat as Kirk arrived. "It just appeared out of nowhere, sir!" the Scotsman exclaimed as the ship rocked wildly under the force of the alien weapon.

Kirk clutched at the back of the chair for support. "Have you tried to contact them?"

"Aye, it was the first thing I did, but they willna respond, they just started firing at us."

Kirk nodded, slid into the captain's chair and ordered reports from all stations. The crew obeyed him immediately, responding efficiently to his terse but courteous commands. Kirk rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. "Try to make contact again, Uhura," he said, swivelling around to her. "Have you reached the Captain yet?"

Mitchell was conspicuous by his absence. Kirk suspected he was still sleeping off the effects of his drunkenness but hoped to be proven wrong. Perhaps Gary was on his way to the Bridge at this very moment but Uhura's reply confirmed his deepest suspicions and Kirk swore silently. The Captain should be dealing with this emergency. Damn Mitchell!

"Send Dr. McCoy to his quarters," he said. Perhaps one of the good doctor's anti-hangover remedies would revive the Captain.

However, this crisis could not wait. Kirk forgot Mitchell and dealt with the alien encounter, working closely with the Science Officer in determining that their attacker was a renegade Orion vessel. Its commander - with a personal grudge against Starfleet - had run amok deciding to take on a starship, the mightiest symbol of power in the galaxy.

After an hour of tense negotiation, bluff and counterbluff, the Orion surrendered his ship, was brought aboard the Enterprise and placed in the Brig. His vessel was impounded and stored in Cargo-Bay One.

Kirk leaned back in his chair, his face shining with sweat, a stray lock of hair hanging damply over his forehead. "Continue on course, Mr. Sulu," he said with a smile to the young helm officer.

Sulu flashed him an admiring grin. "Aye, sir. Right away."

Kirk chuckled softly then turned around as Spock moved to stand by his side. "Well, Mr. Spock, tough going for a while don't you think?"

"I must congratulate you, sir, on your expertise in dealing with this difficult situation," came the unexpected response.

A flush spread over Kirk's face at that praise. "Why thank you, Mr. Spock but without your expert assessment, I doubt we'd have escaped with such minor damage."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, sir?"

"We make an excellent team," Kirk added with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

Spock was intrigued by the human's words and the unusually expressive gaze regarding him. He had never understood how non-telepathic beings could see into the personality of another, but studying Kirk now it was possible to comprehend the phenomenon. He was about to answer the First Officer but held his reply unsaid as Mitchell stormed onto the Bridge, his whole body bristling with aggression.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.

Everyone turned to look at the captain, and Spock noted the resentment Mitchell's presence inspired. As Kirk smoothly rose, yielding the command chair, Spock unconsciously fitted himself behind the First Officer's shoulder and stood motionlessly, his eyes boring into the now seated Mitchell, unaware of the impression he made as he stood, tall and alien-strong, radiating a supportive protectiveness around the smaller human.

As Kirk made his report, Mitchell glared at him belligerently, glanced at Spock, then returned his attention to the First Officer. Spock sensed Mitchell's anger slowly dissolve, to be replaced by an envy that filled his whole being with bitterness. The Vulcan attempted to strengthen his shields against such unsavoury emotions but it was increasingly difficult, for this close to Kirk he was unable to block the young commander's strong feelings as the receptiveness between them increased. It left him open - too open - to the others broadcasting so loudly in the immediate vicinity. An overload was an all too probable possibility. Spock knew that it was imperative that he leave the Bridge in the very near future.

There was a long moment of silence as Mitchell pondered over the report. Finally he smiled a little. "You did well, Jim."

Kirk's sense of relief was profound. Spock knew that was not due to fear of Mitchell or concern over having taken the correct actions in the emergency, but something else entirely which was incomprehensible to a Vulcan.

"Mr. Spock's rapid assessment and the skill of the Bridge Crew in general played the major part in bringing this incident to a successful conclusion," Kirk said.

Mitchell did not reply. He turned to the navigator and asked," How long until we reach the galactic barrier, Mr. Bailey?"

Kirk's annoyance was clear as he looked up at the tall Vulcan beside him, but his expression softened as his gaze met Spock's, acknowledging his appreciation to him without words. Mitchell returned his attention to them, noting as did all the others present, the compelling rapport between them. He frowned in puzzlement and with a sudden, raw surge of jealousy commented, "Don't look to him for friendship, Jim. He has no feelings. A Vulcan is an organic machine, existing for the pursuit of pure logic and knowledge. He knows nothing of emotions, he scorns them. You're a fool if you think otherwise."

Kirk stared at him defiantly. "The friendship of all species, sir, is what the Federation is all about. If Mr. Spock grants me the privilege of being his friend, then no-one has the right to interfere."

There was a stunned silence upon the Bridge as all there digested Kirk's words, for in the years the Vulcan had served on the Enterprise none had called him friend. Everyone awaited Spock's inevitable reaction, his aloof disavowal of Kirk's ridiculous belief, but when no denial passed the thin lips of the Science Officer, a wave of utter amazement swept through the onlooking humans, an emotion which swiftly changed to pleasure. All had seen the teamwork between the two during the crisis, and they noted the protective stance at Kirk's back from one who had never liked the close proximity of another. It was then that it dawned on the astounded crew that the likeable, charismatic First Officer had reached even the reserved, solitary Vulcan.

"I'm not interfering, Jim, only warning you," Mitchell replied. "Mr. Spock does not deign to communicate with a mere human."

Kirk was deeply flushed with anger, his eyes flashing in an indignation he could not hide. "Even a captain may not insult a member of his crew. What right do you have to speak of Mr. Spock in such a manner?"

Hopelessly confused by the strange turn of conversation, Spock sought to defend himself from the maelstrom of emotions surrounding the arguing humans. They were in conflict over him! He could not understand it! "If you will excuse me, I will return to my quarters," he said.

Both men looked at him. Kirk's eyes changed and there was understanding there. Spock watched, deeply startled as Kirk turned to Mitchell and said, "If you will excuse us both, we were off-duty when this emergency occurred." His tone was full of barely restrained insolence.

Mitchell hesitated for only a moment before he dismissed them, but as the two officers left the Bridge, the expression of fury on his face did not go unnoticed by the observant crew.

***

As they stood in the moving turbo-lift, Kirk was filled with regret at having brought distress upon the Vulcan. Damn Mitchell! How could Starfleet have entrusted such a man with the responsibilities of starship command? Gary was a skilled officer, a fine helmsman, but not suited to the difficult duties and exalted position he now held. He was not a natural leader; Kirk knew that only too well. If the Admiralty were prone to such mistakes in their choices for promotion, then the progress made in interspecies cooperation would falter, perhaps grind to a complete halt! Yet, Chris Pike had been a fine captain and had now been awarded the coveted position of Fleet Commander. Kirk's own former senior officers had been excellent captains.

"Mr. Spock, I'm sorry," he began. The dark gaze which now met his was withdrawn and cold. Kirk shivered slightly but did not flinch; he would not permit Gary's insensitivity to ruin the inroad he had made into the Vulcan's isolation. "You called me t'hy'la. That means friend, does it not?"

The severity of Spock's expression softened slightly. "Affirmative, but more than the human interpretation of the word. It is a commitment of loyalty which transcends all others. I have called you by this most sacred of terms but I am unsure if it is possible between two such as we."

Kirk watched him intently. "You stood by me, ready to defend me. I felt your steadfast support. If that is not loyalty and commitment, I don't know what is. Do not doubt what has happened. I'm not a telepath but I know we are friends and will be for life." A slight smile appeared on his lips as he saw the Vulcan waver.

"How do you know this?" Spock asked, his confusion plain to Kirk's discerning eye.

"I feel it deep inside me," Kirk replied with firm conviction. He reached inwards trying to grasp the enigmatic source of his certainty and found it - a warm place where only a void of loneliness had existed before.

Spock looked down, wrestling with forbidden emotions that could not be controlled. "So do I," he finally whispered, shaken deeply by the intensity of his feelings.

This human had touched him from the first moment, this vibrant enthusiastic, young man had filled the emptiness of his life in a miraculous, awe-inspiring fashion. Kirk was his t'hy'la and instinctively both had known it from the start. Spock felt a warmth inside thawing his icy, Vulcan heart in a way he knew was right and natural. Vulcans - so remote from one another, self-sufficient telepaths - who had to keep their privacy intact as a defence against the overpowering emotions that could swamp them, were able with the special one - the t'hy'la - who was attuned to them, share in a friendship of profound depth, a brotherhood of spirit which brought peace and belonging.

Never before able to have faith in one of his mother's species, Spock had immediately trusted Kirk. The human's mind was open to him and he could read its honesty, the reciprocal trust and sincere willingness to give all the support he needed, the desire to be understood and supported in return. His lonely spirit responded to the warmth of the other's thoughts and he knew that his life had changed dramatically, never to be the same again. He had no regrets about the demise of his former existence and with a dawning excitement looked forward to the future. Kirk's aura glowed warmly; Spock could almost see the shimmering field surrounding his body. In that moment he knew that he would willingly die for Jim and be privileged to do so.

***

The coolness from the captain was very marked. However, Kirk did not allow that to stop him from telling Mitchell of his disapproval of a commander who allowed himself to lose respect by womanising amongst the crew, showing prejudice towards one of another species, and immersing himself in the dubious benefits of alcohol. Mitchell listened silently, a slow flush staining his handsome face, his dark, brown eyes glittering in guilty anger. He knew Jim was correct and only showing the honesty and integrity so much a part of his nature. The welfare of the crew and captain was Kirk's only motivation, but nevertheless Mitchell did not like hearing the truth, nor did he care for the hidden knowledge festering deep within him that plagued his every dream. Kirk should be Captain of the Enterprise - Kirk was ideally suited to the post - but had been robbed of his rightful command by the stupidity and cowardice of his closest friend.

The tension and unhappiness he constantly lived with suddenly overcame him. He looked down, attempting to control his many fears; Kirk would find out; Starfleet would strip him of his rank; he would be courtmartialled and his family name would be shamed.

"You're correct," he finally admitted. "Everything you say is correct." He looked up at his friend, his eyes pleading. "Jim, I've gone all wrong without you here to guide me. Please don't judge me too harshly, maybe the power went to my head a little." He stood up and walked over, seeing how the other man's forgiving nature was already asserting itself. "Help me."

The sudden relaxation in Kirk's stance showed Gary just how much his friend had been apprehensive of this meeting, despite the outer show of confidence. He held out his hand, and sighed with satisfaction as it was taken in a familiar, steady grasp.

"I'll help you in any way I can, you know that," Kirk reassured.

Gary nodded. "Good, I knew I could count on you, Jim. C'mon let's discuss how this ship should really be run." He motioned him to a chair, sat opposite, and for the next half hour listened in astonishment to the details and ideas aired. Even Mitchell who was used to Kirk's inspired leadership abilities was impressed! He grinned a little and shook his head. "Well, your ideas are all sound, Jim. But the work involved... " he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

"This is a five year mission, Gary, and you have a Vulcan Science Officer, the best asset your ship has," Kirk countered with a touch of awe and gentleness in his tone which inflamed the burgeoning jealousy in Mitchell,

"A walking computer," Gary scorned.

"No," Kirk insisted. "You don't know him. He's a genius, the best scientist on any ship of the Fleet. He will generously give his time on any problem. He inspires awe amongst the crew, but none are afraid to ask for his help. Despite that reserved demeanour he's not unapproachable. He's just incredibly shy, and I think sometimes we forget he's a telepath. It must be very difficult for him to be around so many humans." Kirk grinned and leaned forward. "I saw him today with Ensign Tamura. She's newly assigned to his section and was completely overawed by him. She is so young and tiny. He's so tall, dignified and assured in his enigmatic Vulcan way."

Kirk began to laugh as he recalled the scene. "She was so nervous at first as he showed her how to recalibrate the sensors, but within minutes of being under his gentle tutelage she had relaxed enough to ask questions." Kirk's eyes were sparkling with amusement. "She asked, and didn't stop asking for the next three hours... "

Gary chewed at his lips, barely restraining his annoyance at Kirk's obvious delight in the tale. He was about to speak, but Kirk was not finished.

"I don't know where he found the patience! He's a born teacher. Everyone on the Bridge was trying to contain their laughter. I thought Sulu was going to choke!" He paused for a breath, unaware of his friend's growing anger. "There's an aura from him which is so reassuring. I feel confident when he is with me."

"You're a dreamer, Jim," Gary scoffed. "You have a vivid imagination. He's a Vulcan; one of the coldest species in the known galaxy. He can't be your friend."

Intense hazel eyes studied him candidly. "You're wrong. You have to throw out all those preconceived ideas about non-humans and learn to accept others for what they are. There aren't enough of the other Federation species in Starfleet because we humans still carry too many of our prejudices with us. We can't see past our own sense of superiority. It's got to stop, Gary. We have a duty to all species, we talk about the brotherhood of all, but do we really practise it?"

"Hell, Jim, that's for the diplomats to deal with," Gary said.

Kirk shook his head. "It's for all of us. We're the ones meeting new life-forms. How can we deal fairly with them if we don't welcome them and treat them on equal terms? How will it be possible for us to accept their cultures if we can't respect the customs and behaviour of a civilised people such as the Vulcans. They've been out in space for more than a thousand years! They've given us so much."

"You always were fascinated by aliens, Jim," Gary said. "Sometimes I think you care more for them than you do for your own people."

Kirk stood up, sadness mixed with anger showing on his expressive face. "If you'll excuse me, Captain," he said.

Mitchell also rose. Perhaps he had antagonised Jim too much. He needed his friend's goodwill. "Hey, don't run off. I hear you, Jim. I'm taking in everything you say, and I know you're right. It's just I can't take to Spock, that's all. Maybe it'll just take time."

Kirk frowned. "It's very important to this ship that you do learn to accept Spock. He saved your skin during the shakedown cruise. Just remember the debt you owe him. Another science officer would never have had the knowledge necessary to remove the Enterprise from the danger zone. You listen to someone like him, Gary; you don't mock him or make him the butt of your bigotry. He's a superior being. Maybe you don't like that but you have to accept it, and him. Deep down under that Vulcan mask there's someone very special. Everyone on the Enterprise knows it except you."

Mitchell flushed. That was all he had ever heard since taking over from Captain Pike; the brilliant Science Officer, the exceptional talents the Vulcan possessed, the respect in which all held Spock. The mystique of the alien was undermining his authority, the loyalty of the crew was not his, but directed at Spock and now Kirk. Bitter resentment towards his second and third in command flared violently in Mitchell's heart, but he caught it to himself not allowing Kirk to see it. He would have to keep his own council and at the first opportunity transfer the Vulcan from the Enterprise. Only then would he be able to run his ship properly. Away from the influence of the alien, Jim would once more be his closest friend.

***

Kirk sat at navigation control, watching as they neared the galactic barrier. The crew were in a fever pitch of anticipation as they concentrated on the task of monitoring the phenomena of this uncharted region. Spock had been working both on and off-duty studying everything with insatiable curiosity. Seeing his preoccupation, Kirk had not disturbed him except to make sure that the Vulcan ate occasionally.

He heard Mitchell's voice behind him. "All hands, this is the Captain. We penetrate the barrier in... " he hesitated and Spock's voice filled the silence. "Twelve point three nine solar minutes, sir." Kirk smiled at the precision. Mitchell continued. "We have no knowledge about this area and must be prepared for any eventuality. Good luck, Captain Mitchell out."

Kirk sighed deeply, the blood in his veins coursing through his body, singing with excitement. He exchanged a grin with the eager young helmsman, Sulu, seeing in him the same thrill of facing the unknown. The ship throbbed with unimaginable power beneath his feet, like the heart of a lover pounding, responding to his touch. She was his. She felt as if she belonged to him. She did belong to him.

Spock suddenly swivelled around. "Deflectors at full intensity," he ordered. "We are approaching a force-field." As he spoke, a purplish cloud formation appeared on the viewscreen. "Captain, these reports conflict. Sensors say there is nothing there, deflectors say there is. Density negative, energy negative. Contact in twenty seconds."

Tiny thrills of intense exhilaration swept along Kirk's nerves at those words. He concentrated on the spectacle before him. The ship was bathed in a brilliant light as she made contact with the field. Momentarily blinded, he struggled to maintain control of his station. He was aware of Mitchell, voice panic-stricken, giving orders which were lost in the confusion of impact and the hysteria of his tone.

Instinctively, he took over. "Gravitation on automatic, emergency stations all decks. Red Alert. Mr. Spock, any radiation?"

"No sir, but the computer is not responding."

Under Kirk's fingers the control panel exploded, sending blinding sparks everywhere. He scrambled out of his chair away from the danger, but as he stood waiting for the smoke to clear, he saw a powerful beam reminiscent of a lightning bolt materialise on the Bridge and strike the Captain. Mitchell cried out and tumbled onto the ground. A moment later the strange energy hit the Vulcan. Spock slumped against his console for a split second, but straightened himself with rigid control.

Immediately taking action, Kirk returned to the blackened, but workable station. "Sulu, neutralise controls, put it on manual, give me lateral power." He worked over his damaged panel. "We're getting out of here." Sighing with relief as the ship responded to his touch, he issued further orders. "Damage reports, Lt. Uhura. Mr. Spock, find out what that was." The Enterprise sped away from the dangerous force-field, retreating to a safe distance. "Medics to the Bridge. Emergency. The Captain is injured." He turned around to see the crew working efficiently at their stations. "Mr. Leslie," he called to the officer standing by the engineering console. "Take over navigation."

Leslie rushed to obey and Kirk, free to take full command, dropped down to kneel by the Captain. Gary lay stunned, but he still breathed and Kirk released a deep sigh of relief. As McCoy entered and took charge of Mitchell, Kirk moved over to the science station, remembering that Spock had also been hit. Uhura's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Six crewmen dead, sir. All hit by an energy bolt."

Kirk gripped the back of the Vulcan's chair. " Are you all right, Mr. Spock?"

Spock did not look at him, but kept his eyes on the sensor readings. "I experienced a mild electric shock, sir. I am quite recovered. However the ship is in difficulty, the engines are out. We will have to rely on our emergency power cells."

Kirk was horrified. "We can't rely on them for long. Even impulse power will have them drained in a few days!"

Three point one five days, sir." the Vulcan announced with his usual accuracy.

Cursing under his breath, Kirk walked back to the centre seat and sat down.

***

As the ship limped back into known space, Kirk and his crew assessed the damage while McCoy tended the injured Captain. Spock correlated all the data pertaining to the casualties and the two survivors, then presented his conclusions to the astonished Kirk who listened in horrified silence as the common denominator between the diverse people affected was revealed by the Vulcan's inescapable logic.

"Esper ability, sir. It only attacked those with a predisposition towards such a talent. Gary Mitchell has the highest rating of all amongst the humans."

Chills of fear ran through the First Officer. "But you are a true telepath, the only one on the ship. The lightning bolt, Spock. I saw it hit you. What did it do to you?"

Spock looked up at him, the dark, alien eyes clear and penetrating. "I am unsure, however the pain was only momentary and I am not experiencing any ill effects."

Kirk was about to speak, but McCoy's urgent voice over the intercom called him to Sickbay. "Okay, Bones. Don't panic. I'm on my way," he replied, then with a swift glance at the Vulcan said, "Please find some way of re-energising the engines, Mr. Spock."

"The Science Section is working closely with Engineering, sir. We will find the answers," Spock reassured calmly.

With a slight smile forming on his lips, Kirk spun on his heel and quickly left the Bridge. McCoy's tone had been full of apprehension, but knowing something serious must have prompted the Doctor's mood he tried to find a measure of calm before entering Sickbay.

To his great delight, he found Gary sitting up in bed watching a small viewer. McCoy stood at the Captain's side, studying him with intense concentration. Kirk stepped forward about to speak, when Gary lifted his head; the words freezing in the First Officer's throat at the sight of the normally brown eyes, now a glowing silver.

"What's happened to you, Gary?" he finally managed.

"I don't understand it," McCoy said. "He's perfectly healthy apart from the shock, but those eyes... I can't explain the eyes!"

Gary smiled. The silver orbs reflecting the harsh Sickbay lighting gave a menacing impression despite the friendly expression on his face. Kirk repressed a shudder. "How do you feel, Gary?"

"Fine except for the eyes. They kinda stare back at me." Gary laughed, making Kirk's skin crawl at the strange, hollow sound.

"You'll stay here under observation for a few days, Captain," McCoy said. "Jim can run the ship for you."

"Yes, Jim can run the ship," Mitchell repeated, his tone ominous. "It's what he was born for. The perfect commander, that's James T Kirk."

Kirk exchanged a concerned glance with McCoy. The Doctor motioned him towards the office and once there, poured them both a glass of brandy.

"I'm worried, Jim. He's reading at an incredible speed, the silver in his eyes is deepening with each passing hour and... I can't pinpoint it exactly, but he seems more aggressive, he's saying things a captain shouldn't."

Kirk took a deep swig of his drink. "Keep him here as long as possible. He cannot run the ship in such a condition. I have to find some way to re-energise the engines or we may never see home again."

McCoy nodded. "He was never fit to run a starship, Jim."

Kirk stared at his old friend for long moments before replying. "He is the Captain, whether or not you or I think him suitable."

The Doctor's look was grim. "I have the authority to pronounce him medically unfit. I won't hesitate if it's necessary to do so."

"I know, Bones," Kirk replied, placing his glass down.

He returned to the Bridge, weary and dispirited by the sinister turn of events. There had been a callousness in Gary's manner which had struck a chord of dread into him. His gut instincts warned him of worse to come.

Spock immediately turned to face him. "Sir, we may have arrived at a solution. There is a dilithium cracking station on Delta Vega. It would be possible to adapt some of its power packs to boost the warp engines. At current maximum speed, our ETA would be two light days."

"But can we reach it before the power cells fail?" Kirk asked, afraid to raise his hopes too high.

Spock stared at him for an endless moment. "I regret that I am unable to be more definite, sir. It is possible but there is no guarantee."

As a sudden rush of depression swept through him, Kirk glanced down at the deck. Spock was normally so accurate on these matters. If he didn't know, then what were their chances? A momentary touch on his arm brought an easing of the negative feelings. He smiled at the Science Officer, aware of the Vulcan's wish to help him.

"We'll make it work, Spock. Thank you," he said.

A new course was set for Delta Vega. Kirk announced the decision plus the reasons to the crew, and there was a renewed sense of hope amongst all aboard. There was a chance of survival now, for all trusted the First and Second Officers and the eccentric Scottish Engineer. They knew that if any could save the Enterprise, it would be them.

Kirk and Spock studied the autopsy reports on the dead crewmen. "In each case there is damage to the body's neural circuit. An area of the brain was burned out," Spock said.

"Why are you not affected?" Kirk inquired, still worried about his friend.

"I am a Vulcan. I have my will and I am familiar with telepathy. We are taught to control the power of the mind. Captain Mitchell's human ESP is latent. The forces that attacked him have taken root within him. The effect may be temporary, but it must not be underestimated. He could be very dangerous."

Shivers slid down Kirk's spine at those warning words. "Explain," he snapped.

Spock straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath before he replied. "If his power increases he will wish to experiment with it. He has had no training in the usage of such an ability. He is human and he has... "

"Faults," Kirk supplied.

Spock swallowed in what Kirk was discovering to be the only outward show of nervousness the Vulcan could not conceal. "Vulcans are taught from childhood. We can restrain mental powers more successfully than any other telepathic species because we have eliminated emotion."

"Are you saying that the more powerful he gets, the more dangerous he'll become? He'll be tempted to use it to gratify his emotional needs?"

"Yes, sir. I regret... " The Vulcan lowered his eyes before the Human's horrified stare.

"You have nothing to regret, my friend," Kirk reassured. "It's not your fault." He sighed and turned on the Sickbay monitor. "If only the effect was temporary."

He watched as Mitchell flicked through the pages of a book-tape, the rate of speed increasing with each passing second. Suddenly Mitchell looked up, stared at the monitor-lens and smiled. "Spinoza, Jim. I don't agree with him at all," he said. The silver eyes deepened in shade and Kirk's uneasiness became a wild, gut-wrenching fear as a vicious expression crossed the Captain's face. The screen flickered and became blank.

The Vulcan eyes on him were wide with concern. "Perhaps we need privacy, Jim," he suggested.

Kirk nodded, assigned the Bridge to Mr. Sulu and led the way to his quarters. Once there he paced the floor, a queasy feeling inside him; Spock stood silently, a tall, remote figure, but comforting by his very presence. Kirk halted by the desk as the intercom sounded. He switched it on and listened to McCoy's latest report, an incident involving Mitchell and a young nurse.

McCoy leaned forward and added, "I'm worried about Nurse Chan. We can't rouse him, it's as if he's in a coma. Now I've just caught Mitchell playing with telekinetic powers. He filled a cup with water and brought it floating over to him. Jim, I don't know what he might try next. He's like a cat playing with a mouse, there's a streak of real cruelty in him. I don't like it.

Kirk was silent as he digested the worrying words. "Thank you, Doctor. Do your best, I'll get back to you shortly." He turned to face the Vulcan. "It's got to stop. He was bad enough before. Who knows why or how it happened but we must restrain Gary before he goes too far. Spock, if you talk with him, if you can explain how he must control, if he will allow you to guide him." Kirk's mind was in a turmoil, this was like nothing in his experience and he reached for the calmness, the support, the certainty of the Vulcan's greater knowledge of esper abilities.

"I will try, Captain but... " A flush of green darkened the angular cheeks. "Forgive me, Commander. Captain Mitchell does not like me. It is doubtful if he will listen."

Kirk's tension snapped at the Vulcan's mistake. A slow grin spread over his face at the sight of the so-proper, unemotional Science Officer blushing like an embarrassed teenager. He sighed, bringing himself under control. "He must listen. We'll go to Sickbay now."

"Very well, sir," Spock replied.

"Are you all right?" Kirk inquired on seeing that the Vulcan's heightened colour had not faded. "Why did you call me Captain?"

As soon as the words passed his lips, he regretted them. How could he have brought the subject out into the open? Vulcans were meant to be emotionless. Spock never made a mistake, yet he had done. What a fool you are, Kirk. You've embarrassed him by drawing attention to his lapse!

Spock bowed his head. "I ask forgiveness, sir. It will not happen again."

Kirk dismissed the apology with a wave of the hand, but Spock calling him Captain had sounded so right.

***

Mitchell did not look up from his reading as they entered Sickbay. "Hi, Jim and of course your shadow, Mr. Spock," he said in a mocking tone.

Kirk frowned, glanced at Spock then returned his attention to the man on the bed. "How did you know?"

Mitchell smiled as his gaze met Kirk's. "I saw you in my mind."

Kirk bit back his nauseating fear. "What are you feeling, Gary?"

The sinister smile widened, and Mitchell's expression filled with an almost wicked glee. "I feel great power coursing through me. No-one on this ship can stand against me." He laughed, his voice echoing eerily, the silver eyes staring at Kirk. "My old friend. Jim, my old commander." Something flashed from those alien orbs causing shivers of pain along Kirk's nerves. "Remember Dimorus, my friend? No, you don't do you? But I do. I was the hero, I saved you. Oh yes, my dear friend, I saved your life, sucked the poison from the wound, but no-one knows what happened earlier. No-one knows it was Gary Mitchell, hero of the Dimorus expedition who provoked the attack, who fired first when that rat-thing pissed at us."

The dreams! The dreams which had plagued Jim returned full force to his memory. Not dreams now, but reality. As if a fog had lifted from his mind, he recalled every detail of the terrible events which had caused the deaths of three of his crew. He glared at Mitchell in horror; fury threatening to overcome him.

"You omitted that part from your report, making it appear as if you were the hero. You allowed me to believe my dreams were wrong, leading me on, telling me that one day I'd recall the details. You took advantage of my memory impairment! They rewarded you with my command!"

"Yes, my friend." Mitchell's tone grew more menacing. "I wanted you here in case you did remember what really happened, so I'd be able to deal with you."

"Why tell me now?" Kirk demanded, unbearable hurt growing with each passing moment. "Why?"

The sinister laugh echoed and re-echoed in his ears. "Because there's nothing you can do about it now, is there? I'm superior to anyone aboard this vessel, even Mr. Spock - the perfect Vulcan. I've gone beyond caring what insects like you think or feel." He slowly rose to his feet. "I can do whatever I want to you now and first I'll experiment with you, Jimmy boy."

He lifted his hand and it began to glow with the crackling, alien power that had struck him. "I can destroy you with a thought, but first... "

A streak of flashing energy streamed from his fingertips, hitting Kirk straight in the chest. The First Officer doubled up in agony, clutched at his stomach and slid to the ground, the stabbing pain tearing at his innards like a raging, burning fire. He gasped and bit his lip to stop himself from screaming aloud. Suddenly, a hard body crashed against him and he toppled over, winded by the weight of the Vulcan who had been hurled violently onto him. He bent his head down, struggling for breath.

"Spock," he whispered, his throat so raw he could barely speak. He forced his pain-wracked body to its knees, reaching out in an attempt to help the other, but his blood turned to ice as he saw gleaming, silver eyes staring back at him. Oh no, not Spock, his mind pleaded.

Instinctively, he recoiled from the Vulcan, but the shining eyes suddenly showed a flash of hurt, cutting Kirk to the bone with their agony and mute appeal. He chastised himself for his cowardice, gripped Spock's arm tightly and assisted him to his feet, aware of one incontrovertible fact. He had to be strong enough to help the Vulcan. Their friendship had been acknowledged as a lifetime bond, therefore it was essential that complete trust be shown. Spock would never hurt him.

The two men exchanged a long look, a reaffirmation of their commitment to one another as t'hy'la.

Mitchell stared at Spock, disbelief written all over his face. "So you join me. Did your Vulcan controls delay the inevitable? It matters not, my pure and perfect Science Officer. You'll help me. We'll resume command of the ship then the whole galaxy will be ours for the taking." His eyes rested on Kirk and a speculative expression crossed his features. "You will learn how unimportant they are, how they can be controlled, I've only begun to test it, but have discovered how much satisfaction can be gained." His eyes blazed with vicious malice. "I am all-powerful. I will be a god." He smiled with evil intent. "I am a god."

Spock stood on unsteady legs, listening to Mitchell's ravings with increasing fear. It was as he had suspected. The Captain was too full of flaws to be able to use the immense power benevolently. He had mutated into a menace which would destroy all in his path. The alien force was drawing at his own will, tempting him to use it, whispering of mighty conquests, tormenting weaker beings, the dark pleasures to be gained in torturing them. He wrenched those thoughts away, only aware now of Kirk's convulsive grip on his arm. Trust, need and friendship flowed into him, penetrating through cloth and skin, strengthening his will.

"Feel the power," Mitchell's voice continued. "Yield to the gratification of the senses, the sublime ecstasy of absolute power.

Blinding energy erupted from the Captain's fingertips, a narrow, tight beam which burned into the vulnerable flesh of Jim Kirk. His face contorting in agony, Kirk slid limply onto his knees like a broken toy. Spock, his mind cried out as his hand lost its grip on the solidity of the Vulcan's wrist.

"See how weak he is. Time to pray to me, James," Mitchell sneered, eyeing the slumped man maliciously.

Kirk's hands were forcefully clamped together in an attitude of prayer, but he raised his eyes defiantly. "Is this what you think you are, Mitchell - a god?" he stammered through tightly clenched teeth.

"Yes, a god. I can force you to my will, old friend, or I can kill you, but slowly... very, very slowly."

Spock, frozen in horrified fear, jolted out of it as he heard that threat. "No, release him," he demanded.

Mitchell's eyes had taken on a deeper hue, his power rapidly increasing. Spock knew that to save Kirk it was imperative that Mitchell be rendered harmless, or even destroyed. Kirk, the ship and perhaps the very galaxy had only one champion. There was a single option available and it had to be taken now, before this mutated human could grow any stronger.

He called upon Vulcan mastery of the mind, drawing on every scrap of training and skill at his command. He touched on the bond - so new and unknown - between himself and Kirk, testing its uniqueness and strength, adding its emotional substance to his will, focussing it all in an attempt to forge the weapon that would defeat Mitchell's awesome power.

The hold on Kirk intensified, the human crying out in agony as Mitchell laughingly tormented him, setting his nerves alight with searing pain, revelling in sadistic enjoyment, savouring the humiliation of the man who had been his friend.

"Spock," Kirk moaned as he curled up into a foetal position on the ground, his body trembling violently under the barrage of excruciating torture.

That cry for help fuelled Spock's determination. He drew himself to his full height, opened his mind and allowed himself to absorb the glowing energy residing within. It swirled around his senses, making him lightheaded, but he clamped down on that reaction and concentrated on channelling it towards Mitchell in a searing blast controlled by his disciplined Vulcan mind. It hit the Captain forcibly, causing him to stagger back with shock, but reviving quickly, the human met the Vulcan's attack with his own, his violent emotions feeding the response.

A crackling radiance surrounded the two officers as they battled for supremacy. Kirk, released from Mitchell's hold, was assisted to his feet by McCoy, the silent and helpless observer of events. The two men hung onto one another for support as they awaited the outcome of the struggle, aware that neither could intervene. Their minds numb with horror, they watched the titanic battle taking place before them.

Calling upon all of his formidable will, Spock mercilessly ripped into Mitchell, drawing the alien force out, fighting the evil which had threatened and hurt his t'hy'la. He battled desperately as it gained further strength from human weaknesses. The Vulcan; honest, honourable and loyal, a being devoid of malice or wickedness, used the power without the temptation of personal gain, only knowing that Mitchell's fault-ridden personality must not be allowed to harness such awesome energy.

He thought of Jim, his friend from the first moment they had met. His more than friend, his bondbrother must not suffer more agonising torture at Mitchell's hands. He would not permit it! With a cry that reverberated around the room, he released a blast of power, doubled and redoubled by his profound sense of protectiveness towards his very special human. Mitchell gasped as he was caught in the flames of primitive Vulcan emotions, his crackling force succumbing to the deeper power and slowly fading into nothingness. He toppled forward, his eyes returning to their normal shade of brown as a dark void rose to claim his senses.

Spock staggered, unconsciousness threatening him as the battle ended. "Jim," he called weakly, his exhausted mind and body desperately searching for assistance.

Kirk and McCoy caught the Vulcan and gently lowered him to the ground, but Jim would not release his hold and knelt cradling the nerveless body to him in a tight embrace. "McCoy," he demanded, trying to hold his fear at bay.

The C.M.O. studied his mediscanner. "I don't know, Jim. These crazy Vulcan readings... " He turned to Mitchell's prone form. "The Captain's body functions are extremely low, but the psi-energy is gone."

Kirk was only dimly aware of the now crowded Sickbay. He looked down into the drawn, angular face, fearful for the life of the one who had become so important to him. "Spock," he murmured. "Spock."

The Vulcan opened his eyes in response to that heartfelt plea. "He will not hurt thee again, my t'hy'la," he whispered hoarsely.

Filled with an emotion so profound, Kirk could barely speak. Carefully he lifted Spock, staggered under the weight but carried his friend to the nearest diagnostic bed and placed him down. "Get a medic over here," he snapped.

Spock's eyes met his. "I only require rest. Do not fear for me."

Kirk smiled and grasped the bony shoulder tightly. "You saved me and the ship from... " He shuddered at the thought of Mitchell unleashed upon them all. His body still suffered pain from the torment inflicted upon it and he could not prevent the inner tremblings which racked him. That unearthly combat between two silver-eyed males fighting for dominance had been the most terrifying sight he had ever witnessed, the tremendous forces being generated had filled the room with vibrations even a psi-null human like himself could sense.

Silver eyes? The thought hit him suddenly. Kirk stared into the normal alien-brown of the Vulcan's eyes and sighed with relief; it was over.

McCoy came over to the other side of the bed, pushing aside the doctor who had responded to the First Officer's order. "Damn Vulcan readings," he muttered as he checked the panel. "I don't know what's normal for him!"

"What happened, Spock, what did you do to him?" Kirk asked gently, totally ignoring the Doctor's grumbles.

Spock's voice was weak but his gaze was peaceful. "I burned out the alien-power in both of us."

"How?" Kirk asked incredulously.

"I do not know, Jim. It was imperative that he be neutralised. He would have destroyed you. I could not permit that." The normally even tone shook with emotion, the words slurred with exhaustion.

"He ought to rest," McCoy's voice finally penetrated to Kirk's weary mind.

He glanced over at the Doctor, noting the other's surprise at the break in control of the supposedly, unemotional Vulcan officer. Had no-one ever understood the difficulties Spock had lived with all his life? Did none but himself see past that front portrayed to the world? "How is Gary?" he finally asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

"Weak, but he'll live." McCoy eyed Kirk carefully. "Jim, I'd better check you out. He really hurt you. I saw what he did."

Kirk shook his head. "No. I'm in command and must attend to ship's business first. I'll be okay." He took a deep breath. He did feel better than before, the resonance of the stinging pain was gradually receding but he knew the hurt of Gary's betrayal would never leave him.

"Captain, please allow me to assist you," Spock said, his voice immeasurably stronger now.

Kirk grinned, his momentary depression dissolved. "Spock, I am not the Captain!"

"You will be, Jim. It is your destiny," Spock replied with deep conviction.

Kirk's feelings threatened to overflow at the Vulcan's words, and the trusting, near-human eyes which seemed locked with his own. "I would not presume to argue with you, Mr. Spock," he said teasingly. "However I think you should rest for a while and only resume your duties when Dr. McCoy has certified you fit."

"Human medical personnel do not understand Vulcan requirements. I can assure you that I can function, sir." Spock protested.

"If Dr. McCoy's staff don't know how to treat your injuries, Spock, then that is a gross oversight on the part of Starfleet Medical Wing or sheer stubbornness on yours. You will cooperate with McCoy. I will not allow anything to interfere with your health. It is of the greatest importance," Kirk replied firmly.

The Vulcan's eyes lowered. "Very well, sir," he finally conceded.

Kirk smiled triumphantly. He could be just as stubborn as any Vulcan and would not permit Spock to suffer needlessly because of lack of knowledge about his unique hybrid physiology. He was aware that Vulcans could induce self-healing under certain circumstances, but it was foolish to rely only on that. There might be a time when Spock's own ability would not be enough. He glanced over at McCoy, noting with amusement that the other man watched them both with complete astonishment. The time for change in both of his friends' attitudes had arrived.

***

The Acting-Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise lay on his bed, able to relax a little for the first time in days. The engines with full warp capacity restored, were taking the ship at maximum speed to Starbase 15. Gary - still confined to Sickbay - was stable but weak from his battle with the Vulcan. McCoy sent regular reports about him, but Kirk had not yet found the time, nor the inclination to visit him. He did not allow himself to dwell on the unalterable facts of Mitchell's deceit; it was too soon and the pain still too fresh. The only escape was to immerse himself in work, resting finally when too exhausted to continue. It was impossible to face his old friend. The indisputably hurtful betrayal was relentlessly pushed to the innermost recesses of his mind.

The sound of the door-chime roused him and he jumped to his feet, immediately alert. "Enter," he said, determinedly forcing his tired body into a military stance, but he stood at ease when he saw his visitor was the Vulcan. "Yes, Mr. Spock?"

The Science Officer studied him for several seconds. "You are troubled, Jim."

Kirk looked away from that penetrating gaze. "Just tired."

Spock walked over until he stood close to Kirk. "I am not human, Jim. Do not think it is possible to lie to me."

Kirk flushed under that reprimand and retaliated with defensive anger. "Don't pry into my personal business, Mr. Spock. Please leave, I want to sleep." Those Vulcan eyes saw too deeply. Kirk wanted to be alone with his pain.

"I do not understand humans," Spock continued relentlessly, "but I sense your torment. Let me help. It is my place, my duty as your friend."

Kirk chewed at his lip, unsure of what to do, afraid to open out and give free reign to his fears, yet knowing that he should not reject such a generous offer.

"My t'hy'la." The Vulcan's voice softened as he spoke the revered term, "Please allow me the honour of sharing your worries."

Kirk sighed wearily, flopped back down on his bunk and lay back. How could he resist that plea? "What will happen, Spock? What will the Admiralty decide? What'll they do to Gary?" He waved his hand as the Vulcan began to answer. "Hey, I don't expect you to know!" He stared at his friend's non-human countenance and reached out silently, seeking reassurance, needing support.

Spock understood his uncertainty and sought to comfort him with his own logical projection of the known facts. "They will appoint you as Captain of the Enterprise," he said, jolting Kirk with that confident statement.

The human sat up quickly and stared at him in amazement, wide hazel eyes glowing with barely restrained emotion. "Spock, how can you know this?"

Spock could not prevent his features from softening into an almost-smile. "I feel it!" he exclaimed incredulously, his eyebrows journeying upwards to disappear under the fringe of black hair. Feel it? he questioned silently.

Kirk broke into loud laughter that echoed infectiously around the cabin. Spock, who had never laughed in his life before, now fought to suppress the strange, heaving sensations which preceded this illogical, human quirk. He barely succeeded as Jim curled into the bedcover in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, appearing very young as the lines of worry cleared from his face. Spock took his churning emotions firmly in check. He was a Vulcan. Control was all, yet... to laugh with his t'hy'la would be a joyous experience. He struck the tempting thought from his mind and forced his features into a proper seriousness.

After a short time, Kirk managed to control his mirth, but those eyes sparkling with tears of laughter caused Vulcan control to waver again. What was this power Jim possessed to so rock his calm? The power of a t'hy'la, his inner self replied with confidence. He surveyed his friend, allowing the warmth he felt to surface. Kirk grinned, automatically returning it.

***

Captain Mitchell remained in Sickbay during the rest of the voyage to Starbase 15. He officially logged the change of command to Kirk pending his own disciplinary hearing, and refused to see anyone but the medical staff, barely speaking even to them. Kirk respected his privacy, but before they beamed to the starbase he insisted on a meeting; his compassionate nature having overcome the anger and hurt.

Mitchell was deeply ashamed and would not raise his eyes as Kirk entered, but the First Officer stood facing him until the Captain was forced to look up, compelled by a deep need to see his old friend again. Kirk was assured, confident and relaxed, his understanding and merciful personality showing strongly in his gaze.

"I'm sorry, Jim," he said, knowing that words were not enough to make amends for the wrongs he had committed. "I robbed you of command, cheated you of what was rightfully yours, tortured you with the power I gained. I am unfit for the captaincy and will be resigning, although they'll probably courtmartial me."

Jim reached out a hand, his eyes filled with forgiveness and pity. That broke Gary's tenuous control; he turned away, trembling with grief, unable to take the guilt that gnawed at him. "I'd have killed you if the Vulcan hadn't stopped me," he confessed brokenly.

"Gary," Jim began, his voice faltering over the name.

Mitchell drew himself up, gathered his courage together and turned to face Kirk. He had to make reparation in some small way for what he had done, and the only way possible was to explain to Jim what he had so clearly sensed during the frightening battle with the Science Officer.

"It's true, Jim. Nothing and no-one mattered to me, not even you, my closest friend. Absolute power corrupting absolutely. What a textbook example of that I was!" He held back the bitter tears, not allowing himself the relief of tension. "But not him, not Mr. Spock. There was only one thought in his mind." He noted the curiosity in Jim's eyes, the need to know. That he could give. Maybe it would help make amends to this man he had almost destroyed.

"He repeated it over and over. 'Protect, Jim. Protect and defend him with my life.' That was all he cared about. He tore me apart for daring to hurt you, destroying the force which had seduced me. I thank him for that, and more importantly, for saving your life. Your death at my hands would not have been easy nor very pretty." Horror swept through him as he remembered his own viciousness, comparing himself to Spock and the selfless way the Vulcan had acted. "His is the noblest spirit I have ever known."

Kirk watched silently, pity for this man stinging at his heart and mind. A smile suddenly brightened Mitchell's gaunt features. "Except for you, Jim," Gary added. "You and he are of separate species but two of a kind; men of the highest integrity."

Kirk stepped forward, compassion for this friend who had strayed so far overcoming any remaining bitterness against him. Gary moved out of reach and Kirk sighed with deep unhappiness, knowing that his old friend was punishing himself more severely than any court of inquiry would.

"He worships the ground you walk on," Gary murmured, his voice full of awe.

Kirk felt a deep frisson permeate his body at those words. He knew that Spock held complex feelings towards him but had only caught a glimpse of them during the aftermath of the combat with Gary. Vulcan control normally kept Spock in check, yet if he thought about it, Jim knew that from the very beginning there had been a response from beneath that mask which had mirrored his own. The mysterious bond of t'hy'la had sparked between them instantly.

"You've always inspired loyalty, Jim," Gary continued. "Everyone you've ever met has fallen under your spell. But in him you've reached something profound; non-human and far-reaching. A Vulcan bond of a type we humans can only yearn for, crave for with another, but could never possibly have." Tears slipped from his eyes now. "Yet, we were close once. You were the brother I never had as a child."

Gary turned away. He leaned against the desk as if needing the support. Jim tentatively pressed his hand against the bowed shoulders. "Gary," he murmured, but the other man tensed and moved away, then sat down upon the chair, his misery and shame surrounding him like a mist.

Almost blinded by grief, Kirk paced the corridors of the ship. His friend of so many years, who had been as close to him as Sam, now was suffering severely from the repercussions of his own shortcomings and there was nothing he could do to help. It was some time before he realised that he was being shadowed by a tall form. He stopped abruptly, spun around and stared up at the Vulcan.

"He'll be disgraced. He'll have no-one," Kirk said brokenly.

Spock's expression did not change. "He must be punished, Jim. Such behaviour cannot be tolerated in Starfleet."

"I know," Kirk replied wearily as he turned and walked on.

Spock followed him silently during his brisk, hours-long journey through the corridors of the Enterprise. Everyone they passed stared after them, noting Kirk's pain-filled features, seeing the supportive, protective Vulcan at his side. Although used to many unusual situations, the crew of the starship marvelled at the sight.

Finally, Kirk entered the turbo-lift, commanding it to take them to the Bridge. Aware of Spock's concerned gaze upon him, and the remembrance of the Vulcan keeping so close to him during these last difficult hours, he shifted embarrassedly from one foot to the other, Gary's words ringing in his ears.

He worships the ground you walk upon.

Surely an exaggeration! Yet why would Gary make such a statement? "Spock, if it had been me in Gary's place, what would you have done?" he asked.

Spock's eyebrow rose, his face showed confusion. "You would not have falsified a report. You would have not abused the power."

"But if I had," Kirk persisted, "would you have condemned me? Would you have abandoned me?"

"Your questions are illogical, Jim. You would not have behaved in such a fashion; it is not in your nature."

Kirk grimaced. Obviously Spock did not understand his meaning. He would have to be plainer. Flushing a little under the alien scrutiny, he suddenly sighed, relaxing within the sphere of the Vulcan's influence. Happiness warmed him as the true comprehension of Spock's words filtered through his mind. His insecurity dissolved; pride that his friend should think so well of him replacing it. Spock would never abandon him but would be always there to support and guide him. It was part of the bond they shared, a relationship he knew little about but was willing and eager to explore.

He grinned at the Vulcan and in answer received the faintest hint of a smile. He laughed softly as he realised that his grief and tension had lifted. As he reflected on the debt he owed his friend, gratitude welled up within him threatening to overflow and burst out spectacularly in an outward display of emotion. Spock gave a definite start of fear and stared - eyes front - as the lift doors opened.

Kirk studied him with real affection before he spoke. "Thank you, my friend."

Spock bowed his head in acknowledgement.

***

The inquiry had taken six hours. Gary offered no defence, freely admitting his guilt. He was suspended from duty pending further disciplinary action and confined to quarters on the Base. He would not see any visitors and Kirk left a message assuring him that he bore no grudge and hoped to speak with him before returning to the Enterprise.

The following day, the four admirals who had presided at the inquiry requested the presence of the First Officer and Science Officer. They had reviewed the situation with great care, taking into account Kirk's past career, his actions aboard the Enterprise and the powerful aura of command assurance surrounding him. They had considered Spock; a scientist whose genius outmatched any other in the Fleet, his abilities lauded by his former captains, by Kirk, and surprisingly by Mitchell. Now they noted how the young human stood proudly, confident but relaxed. They sensed the almost visible link between him and the tall Vulcan standing silently by his side like some shieldbearer of ancient times.

These young men before them who had worked so well as a team under the most difficult of circumstances, had an obvious rapport. The decision was not hard to reach. The Enterprise could not be left out of active service for the length of time needed to implement the long procedures to appoint a suitable captain. She was needed for vital exploratory work. She had two of the brightest, ablest senior officers in Starfleet. Also, Kirk had been in line for her originally.

Admiral Simonson rose to his feet, his sharp eyes softening as he recalled his own feelings on receiving his first starship. The young man before him was in the most enviable position possible. To his utter amazement, Kirk received the news of his promotion with a mature poise and calm which removed any slight doubt the admirals had harboured. They relaxed in the knowledge that the correct decision had been made this time.

Kirk bowed slightly as he thanked the senior officers, then added, "I will require Mr. Spock as my First Officer." There was a determination in the hazel eyes which would not waver under any reason.

"Certainly, Captain Kirk," Simonson replied. "Mr. Spock is our first choice for the position."

Kirk smiled in acknowledgement of the Admiral's gently mocking tone. With great difficulty he restrained his excitement over his promotion, for he would not show any emotion to Starfleet brass who had so easily misjudged the character of the man who had been given the Enterprise before him. It still rankled that they had not waited the short time required for his recovery. Everyone knew that he had been the first choice for Captain of the Enterprise. Now though she was his. He would show them all what a starship could do with the right man... the right team in command.

It was with great pride that he watched his Vulcan friend courteously accept the post of First Officer.

***

The meeting with Gary had been painful. In the Captain's cabin, Kirk stared unseeingly into the mirror as he remembered the awkward few minutes he had spent in the sparse quarters his once-closest friend now occupied at the Base. Gary had been tormented by guilt, and refused to allow himself to accept any forgiveness from Kirk who had finally left, disturbed and unhappy. To divert himself, Kirk had returned to the ship, programmed the fabricators, and the result he now wore with satisfied pride.

He blinked, consigned Gary's behaviour to the back of his mind and critically surveyed his own appearance. The colour matched his hair and enhanced the natural tone of his skin. Kirk had no illusions about his own attractions and foresaw the problems that his new power and flattering uniform, which clung like a second skin to his body, would bring. At that moment he made a firm vow to himself. His crew would not be subject to the whims and desires of this Captain. He would not permit them to lose their trust and respect for him. Any relationships with female officers would be purely professional.

As for sex? Well there would be opportunities on shore leave.

As for love? He dismissed the possibility immediately. He could not be tied, for the ship was his beloved.

As for friendship? He smiled knowing at least that would not be denied him. There was his old friend, Bones whose advice he could always rely upon, and his new friend - his t'hy'la. The Vulcan word sent comforting waves of reassurance through his mind.

The door-chime buzzed loudly, bringing him out of the reverie with a start. He flushed guiltily. Here he was admiring himself when there was work to be done! He smoothed the uniform tunic, lifted his chin and quickly assumed a military stance.

"Enter," he called aloud. Vanity will be your downfall, Kirk, he admonished himself silently.

The doors slid open to reveal the welcome sight of his First Officer. Kirk smiled warmly in welcome, but noting the raised brow and careful scrutiny he received, his happiness swiftly dissolved. "Is something wrong?" he asked, wondering if any fastening had inadvertently been left undone, but too embarrassed to check for himself. His flush deepened, and he broke out into a sweat.

"No, sir," the Vulcan replied.

"Are you sure?" Kirk persisted.

Spock hesitated, then seemed to arrive at a decision. He stood awkwardly, but determinedly forced the words out. Words which needed to be said. "You have honoured me by requesting that I become your First Officer. I shall not fail you, sir. You will never regret your trust in me. I am proud and deeply grateful to be your t'hy'la. You are truly fulfilling your destiny as Captain of the Enterprise, and my loyalty and my life are yours alone."

Kirk's heart pounded with joy on hearing those vows. He stepped forward and clasped the wiry, Vulcan arms tightly, for so profound was his emotion, he found it impossible to form his thanks verbally. Spock eased himself from his Captain's hold, a flush staining his eartips as the full force of human feelings were picked up by his telepathic mind.

"The Enterprise is ready to leave orbit, sir. She awaits your command."

His whole being aflame with happiness, Kirk smiled broadly. He had come home. This was his place; it was where he wanted to be. The life which should have been his had been restored to him. With Spock's assistance he would make a success of the five year mission, for who else had been given an oath of loyalty from a Vulcan? What other outworlder had become the t'hy'la of a Vulcan?

He waited until his own heightened colour had faded, and the tell-tale emerald tips of pointed ears had resumed their normal hue before replying lightly, "Well, Mr. Spock, let's go mind the store."

He briskly left the cabin, followed by a very puzzled Vulcan First Officer. "Mind the store, Captain?"

"I'll explain it one day, Mr. Spock," Kirk promised with a teasing laugh.

He was rewarded by the sight of a mobile, slanted eyebrow rising to disappear under the impossibly immaculate, shiny, black hair.

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