BUT NEVER PARTED

Stardate 8743.6

The Enterprise is on course for Starbase five to obtain needed parts and supplies.   We then expect reassignment to the Orion Sector as unexplained activity has been reported in the area for the past few months.

Kirk closed the switch on the log. A glance around the bridge revealed the second shift in place and Lt. Mathers waiting patiently to be given command.  The captain stood, transferred command, and stepped into the turbolift.  As he opened his mouth to command the lift to the officer's quarters decks he remembered that Spock would still be in engineering assisting with repairs to the auxiliary pre-mix chamber.  Finding himself unable to return to his empty quarters he directed the lift to engineering.

As the doors to engineering slid open, he spotted his first kneeling before the open access panels on the far wall.  Mr. Scott, two tech assistants and a plethora of tools and parts were strewn in a vaguely organized fashion over the floor around them.  

The techs went stiff and wide-eyed as they noticed Kirk approach. One almost dropped the solid cerilium spanner she was holding ready for Mr. Scott. Spock looked up from the pump unit he was reassembling to gaze at the captain as he usually did: like he expected him to be there. "Captain."

"How are things progressing?" Kirk asked.

"We are just puttin' 'er back together." Mr. Scott replied. "Be up and online as backup in about two hours."

Kirk nodded, transfixed with watching long Vulcan fingers working with a fine touch. He shook himself and stood straight. "I'll be in my quarters, let me know when it's completed."

The captain settled himself at his desk and began calling up the last few months of reports regarding the Orions.  His head spun with the descriptions of the vast networks and families of legitimate, illegitimate, and grey-market organizations.   Last year two less-prominent families attempted to seize control of interplanetary trade resulting in several small skirmishes that Starfleet had steered clear of.   Things had appeared to settle down again but recently ships and stations had been moving in new patterns and outside ships had been reporting harassment in Orion space. After two hours he couldn't focus on it anymore.  It was possible the Enterprise wouldn't even be reassigned there.  Kirk switched off the display. As he did so, the comm whistled. 

"Engineering to Captain." Scotty's voice came across.

"Kirk here."

"We're all finished, Captain. The pre-mix chamber is online and working perfectly."

"Acknowledged. Kirk out." As Kirk stood to get ready for sleep the door chimed.   "Come." There was only one being it could be at this hour. Warm anticipation flowed into his limbs from somewhere under his rib-cage.  The door slid open and Spock stepped into the room.

"Captain."

Kirk studied him for a moment, enjoying the simple sight of him. "Good evening Mister Spock." Dark eyes followed human movements as he shed his uniform.  He then slid over to the room divider. "Care to spend the night?"

An eyebrow twitched. "Perhaps," he said coyly, though he fidgeted uncharacteristically.

"Did you lock the door?"

Spock nodded but did not move.

Kirk slid around the divider into the sleeping area.  Peeking back around the corner, he said, "Coming?"

"Indeed," Spock replied and followed. Kirk slipped into the bed, Spock sat beside him on the edge.

"Anyone in the corridor when you came in?" he asked, stroking one lean arm with affection.

A shake of the head.

Kirk studied him, noted the underlying tension, the uncertain eyes. Grateful that he could attempt to remedy his friend's pain, he reached up and pulled the other down beside him, capturing his mouth in his own for a long kiss.

Kirk's body tried to respond to the kiss and the feel of the hard body lying against him, but fatigue dampened the effect. He sighed and rested his head back on the pillow. "Perhaps in the morning." He said, closing his eyes and wishing for the stamina of his teenage years.

The bed shifted as Spock stood to undress and returned to the bed, this time under the covers.  Again the heat built but failed to ignite in Kirk's belly.  He wrapped his arms around the narrow frame and pulled tight.  A minute later, sleep sucked him down like some kind of unnatural gravity.

Spock rested his head on the single pillow and listened to the deep human breaths grow longer with sleep. The golden glow of Kirk's spirit pulsing so close was both comfort and torment. He pulled stronger shields up around his mind in the face of the onslaught and tried to relax otherwise.

At just after oh-four-hundred Spock's need for relief from the constant siren of Kirk's mind grew too great. He came up out of a light meditative state feeling like he had just crossed a wide desert and was now resisting drinking from a cool, clear spring.  His shifting aroused his bedmate.

"Everything all right?" Kirk murmured sleepily.

Spock sat up. "I am in need of meditation. I am returning to my quarters."

Kirk mumbled something like acceptance and rolled over away from him. More clearly he said, "Come back before shift if you want sex."

Spock's mouth twitched in chagrin at the thought of minor physical pleasure compared to such intense psychic need.  He ran one hand over Kirk's covered back in a gesture of pure emotion than stood to dress and depart.

The next day did not begin well for Kirk.  Still two days out from Starbase Five and Admiral Wright had already modified their next orders again.  They were to hold over an extra two days beyond what was required for re-stocking.  Kirk quit the bridge early to review the Orion situation again while he was more alert.  Stretching a stiff neck he sat at his desk and started over with the first Special Forces report.

On the bridge Uhura sat at the communications board following the main comm traffic around the Starbase. She also kept an eye on the monitor of incoming and outgoing personal and automatic messages being sent on- and off-ship, which is why when the untagged message came in she saw it immediately.  Untagged messages were not supposed to be sent on Starfleet channels since they bore no trace information.

Uhura opened the message and felt a sick, angry feeling.  She called for a replacement and left the bridge.

The door buzzer pulled Kirk out midway through the third report.  At his invitation the door parted to reveal Lieutenant Uhura.

As she had pressed the door buzzer, Uhura realized that she was correctly and obediently following someone else's manipulative script.  This brought the sick feeling back again as the doors swished open before her.

The captain looked up, saw the disturbed look on the normally composed face and asked,   "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

She stepped lightly into the room and let the doors close behind her. "I have been unwillingly recruited as a messenger." She held out a yellow memory cassette. "I'm sorry, Sir." She added quietly.

Kirk didn't take his eyes off of hers as he took the pro-offered cassette and placed it into his reader.  His eyes narrowed in confusion a moment, Uhura supposed he saw the blank headers. Then he sat back with pursed lips a moment before leaning forward again and resting his elbow on the table, fingers on lips.  "Have a seat Lieutenant." Uhura hid her surprise and did as instructed. Kirk was silent a while, deep in thought, before speaking.  "I take it you know, Lieutenant."

She forced calm into her limbs and face. "Yes, Sir."

"How many of the senior officers know?"

"Uh, all of them. I believe, Sir."

Kirk didn't react at all to this news, only sat staring in thought at the terminal display which read: "...under notice that the non-fraternization policy is going to be enforced. Request that you gain the cooperation of your First. Schedule a meeting with me upon arrival at Base."

"Why do you think Wright used this means of communication?"

Uhura's brow furrowed.  She had seen only negative connotations in the message, now faced with the question, she found herself less certain. "I'm not sure, Captain." She paused. "He apparently doesn't want to make it official."

"Hmmm." Kirk mulled. "Apparently."

"There has been some gossip, some complaints." She said out loud to herself. Kirk's head came up.  "Uh. Some of the more recently assigned personnel are First Earthers and they have been more vocal than previous crewmembers."

"The captain is always the last to know," Kirk murmured. "I thought we brought the last ones into the fold with little incident."

"We seemed to, Sir. The latest group have stronger opinions." She frowned. "Earlier groups had a hard time dealing with the conflict of joining a space organization to further the goal of returning Earth to pre-contact culture and values.   New recruits seem to have accepted the dichotomy and are in stronger denial as a result."

"How many current crewmembers are we talking about?"

She hoped he wouldn't ask for names. "I think around five or six."

"What is their plan?" He asked himself out loud.

"They claim to be patient enough to wait until they make it to the admiralty where they intend to begin withdrawing from Federation military action." At Kirk's doubtful look she added, "They have the support of many major corporations."

Kirk shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense; they are the ones who benefit the most from inter-planetary trade."

"I don't think they want to cut into their profits.  They just don't appreciate the cultural changes that have happened as a result of ... " She shrugged. "Their word is 'intermingling'."

A dubious look ruled Kirk's face. He thought for another long moment before nodding that she could leave. Uhura moved to depart. "If you need anything, Captain, I'm only too happy to assist."  Kirk nodded acceptance and she exited.

"Mr. Spock. Report to my quarters at your convenience." He spoke into the desk comm.

The cremember in question sat alone in the computer core, programming an update to the battlestations drill code.  He acknowledged the call and put the curiosity aside, having learned from experience that "at your convenience" did not mean immediately and that Kirk truly did not wish to interrupt him.  He settled back into the updating, his face highlighted in the blue glow of the terminals.

Moments after shift-end Kirk's door chimed. Hands behind his back, Spock entered the room.  

Kirk stood behind his desk before the monitor, one hand poised over the controls. Spock's back stiffened unconsciously as he noted the unfamiliar posture of defeat in his friend's frame. 

"What is it, Jim?" He asked as he came around the desk. Rare concern tainted his voice.

Kirk met his gaze and tried to smile in greeting before looking down again. "I received a message from Wright. He wants to reassign you."

A brow lifted. "Did he say why?"

The human frowned.  "He implies that he is being pressured to enforce the non-fraternization rule."  Speaking of non-fraternization made Kirk sharply aware of how close to him Spock stood at this moment, close enough to feel the excessive radiant body heat.

"Pressured by whom?"

"By the First Earth movement."

Spock's crossed his arms. "I was not aware that Starfleet was now in a position to be influenced by religious movements."

"They aren't directly. But regular appropriations are up for renewal and the movement has gained enough momentum to pressure Earth Parliament into making concessions to them in return for support."

"And we have been singled out in this, somehow?"

Kirk paced around to the other side of the desk. "Wright said the Firsters found us an 'intolerable symbol' of everything they believe is wrong on modern Earth.  That we had three strikes against us." At a curious look he continued, "One: that I'm some kind of good-old country boy and you're an alien. Two: that we are both male. And Three...well just...you."

Spock considered that a moment. "Indeed."  They were silent a moment.   "May I see the message?"

"Sure. It's in the slot."  Kirk replied, sitting in his own visitor's chair.  Kirk watched the angular face as it held neutral while reading the message.

Spock switched the viewer off. "Interesting. This is an unofficial message."

"I'm holding out some hope for that.  Wright wants to meet with me when we dock at Starbase Five." He paused. "I'm not giving you up without a fight."

A strange ambivalence descended over the Vulcan as he stood looking down across the desk at his Captain. Concern for Kirk's well-being tugged against the prospect of rest from the heavy psychic fatigue from constantly resisting a bond with him.

Kirk looked sharply at him and stood up.  Standing before the other, managing to project himself taller, he said in an unreadable voice, "Unless you want to leave." Uncertainty and hurt clouded his hazel eyes.

Spock met his gaze with a Vulcan calm. "I prefer to be at your side, Jim." It was the truth, Spock decided.

Backing down, Kirk said, "Sorry. I know you can't express...I shouldn't take my anger out on you."

Spock drew close and pulled the muscular human against him.  The object of this attention squeezed his eyes shut against the surge of pain the thought of losing it caused.  Long fingers lifted his chin for a balming kiss.

"We have a meeting in ten minutes." Kirk said at the first pause. 

Spock was studying him in detail. "Perhaps afterward."

Human hands gripped the banded leanness of Spock's back a long moment before releasing him.

Later, as Kirk walked back to his quarters from briefing room three he thought he could feel a somber mood among the crew.  Certain that Uhura would have remained silent, he attributed it to the crew's tendency to mimic his own mood.  Once in his quarters, he waited for Spock who arrived just over a minute later.  Kirk wrapped him up in his arms the instant the doors slid closed. 

Spock accepted the attention and molded himself against the smaller, softer body and returned the deep kiss he was receiving.  Kirk stiffened suddenly in Spock's arms and pulled away holding the other at arms-length.

"This may be the last chance we have to be together," Kirk spoke, apparently stunned by the realization. "We arrive at base in thirty-three hours."

"I have every confidence in your negotiating skills Captain.  Wright has not made it an official order, nor for that matter, opened an inquiry." Kirk's arms were tight around him.  He would miss this absolute acceptance, if it came to that, more than any other facet of his relationship with Kirk.

The dark note in Kirk's eyes indicated that the captain was not so certain.

Spock backed up a step to reach the control on the desk and the door lock. He then bent to mouth the cool neck as he pulled the open the shoulder seal on the uniform shirt. With easy efficiency he finished undressing the other before steering him up against the room divider. Kirk had also managed to divest the taller man of his uniform top and thermal undershirt. Spock grasped Kirk's wrists in one strong hand and held them both fast behind the other's back as he knowingly stroked the human into a needy erection. He then caressed chest, abdomen, and arms with a maddeningly slow patience. 

Kirk's breath heaved and a bead of sweat had formed on his flank before Spock relented and knelt before him. Still holding fast to Kirk's hands, he took the hungry cock into his mouth. The being above him released a rewarding half gasp-half moan of relief. Through the physical contact, Spock felt Kirk release the stress of the day and his worries for the future.

As the ministrations began to push him to the edge of climax, Kirk breathed, "I want to be inside you." Spock released him and Kirk watched as he removed the remainder of his own clothing.  A cool hand traced Spock's side and over one buttock as he bent to remove his pants.

"God, you're beautiful." Kirk whispered. 

After another deep flesh-pressed kiss, Kirk led them to the bed. A kind of cold desperation threatened to overcome Kirk as he pulled his friend down with him, making it hard to catch his breath. He pulled a blanket over them and stoked the hard muscles of Spock's torso as if to memorize the feel of his course chest hair, the surface of each ripple of abdominal muscle.

Spock halted him by grasping his arms. "Jim," he said softly. "Are you all right?"

Kirk was slow to meet his eyes and when he did they were bright.

Kirk shook him off, masked his pain, and rolled over on top of the wonderfully warm body.


The Enterprise sailed into dock at Starbase Five. Her captain was the third crewmember off the docking tube, heading for Admiral Wright's office with single-minded intent. Wright only made him wait seven minutes in the overly-comfortable waiting room before the secretary admitted him. With purposeful stride, Kirk entered the spartan office, noting that it took five long strides to get to the large desk. Wright stood to greet him then immediately sat again. Kirk noticed a bit more grey in the very short, sandy hair of the man than he remembered. It lent the human an air of authority, which probably explained him not taking action to prevent it.

"Thank you for coming, Captain." Wright gestured to the chair across from himself.

"It was an order." Kirk reminded him, gritting his teeth against his desire to speak out of line.

"Yes." Wright replied in a distracted voice as he studied his files a moment. A charade: Kirk knew he had a photographic memory.

Kirk's patience wore thin. "Can you tell me the real reason you are trying to take my first officer?"

The older man looked up. "I told you the real reason."

"It seems insufficient, *Sir*."

"You are too out of touch." Wright bristled. "Too many edge-of-fed-space runs for you, I think." Wright turned off his monitor and turned to face Kirk, hands clasped in front of him. "Costs a lot of money running a star fleet, Jim. They are holding, not all, but a lot of the purse-strings now."

"They?"

"The First Earthers...and others." He sat back, relaxed. "These kinds of things are cyclic, Jim, you know that. You had top marks in history at the academy. People's comfort levels have been pushed too far, so now it is time to push back. Makes everyone feel like they have some control, even if it is just of their neighbor's private life."

Kirk eyed him. "You don't sound like you are fighting it very hard."

Wright pursed his lips and shook his head. "Only makes it worse. Nothing they like more than martyrs." He looked Kirk over a moment. "Nothing they hate more than symbols."

"You used that word in the message," Kirk prompted.

"Don't you follow the news feeds?"

"Not unless they are relevant to the mission or extremely important."

"Jim, your first officer alone is quite a symbol."

Kirk cut him off. "He's a symbol of everything this organization stands for." He stated with a faint hint malice.

"Well, now." Wright picked up a stray stylus from his desk and examined it closely. "Organizations can be changed, albeit slowly. Beings can't. Those who want to redefine this organization know that. They've targeted him because they can't change who he is, but they can lesson the effect he has on people's thinking."

"So this isn't about him and me... it is just about him."

Wright spun his chair and stood. "Not entirely." He came around the desk and sat on the edge facing Kirk. Overbearing and fatherly. "You, Jim." He poked Kirk's chest with the stylus. "You are apple pie, wholesome white bread, in danger of deep corruption."  Kirk gave him such a dubious look that Wright sat back.

"You must be kidding," Kirk said.

The Admiral crossed his arms and looked stern. "Look Kirk, you have no choice in this matter." Kirk opened his mouth to protest but was cut off. "*But*, I'm going to give you one anyway, because I happen to think you deserve one." He paused and Kirk remained silent, waiting. "The options are as follows. One, Spock accept a transfer to the Yorktown--"

"The Yorktown! Captain Baker is the least competent command rank in the fleet and a bigot on top of that. Does he want Spock?"

"Yes, actually, he does. Has been very vocal about it."

"Why the hell would he? He despises Vulcans." Kirk paused. "The First Earthers really like him, don't they."

"I don't know for certain." Wright replied. "But I get that impression. But that has nothing to do with it.  He just has an open science position."

"That's because he goes through officers like King Rudolph goes through skeets."

"Now, now, Kirk.  This is a fellow Captain you are discussing." Kirk gave him a hard look. "The other option is that the Vulcans want him."

"Which Vulcans?"

"The old USS Zephr has been re-outfitted as a science vessel to replace Intrepid. They are just embarking on some kind of galaxial thread research mission. The ship is equipped now with some amazing equipment to study the structure of the universe. They would like your first officer as well." He let Kirk digest that. "The upside of that is the mission is two months, tops." Kirk looked hopefully up at him, causing Wright to shift uncomfortably.

Kirk thought a long moment. "The final decision is Spock's," he said coldly, trying to mask his sense of defeat.

"The beauty of this is that everyone is happy."

Kirk gave him a hard look.

"The problem is satisfied for now; you get your officer back in relatively short time; and the Firsters get their most loathed symbol shipped back to his own people. You really have no choice: fraternization across rank is strictly against the books."

"But it is has nothing to do with that." Kirk retrained himself from pointing out the rampant violations of this rule that were going unpunished in the meantime. Officers did have a gentleman's agreement about such things.

"Doesn't matter." Wright stood straight and returned to his desk chair. "Talk to your first, let me know what is decided." He turned his monitor back on and ignored Kirk, who took the hint and departed.


Back on the Enterprise, Spock sat in his quarters reviewing the sensor logs. He found himself illogically unable to focus on the charts and long strings of numbers. The door slid open without a chime and Kirk stepped in. The captain took up a seat at the table across from him, setting his elbows on the edge, chin on hands.

Spock noticed that the human looked distinctly unhappy. The inevitability of his own transfer struck home with more force than he would have expected. He suddenly remembered the first time the two of them were physically close. Spock had melded with the orb-like life-forms on Mantris Eleven. He had perhaps been overconfident and had not shielded sufficiently because the meld had stripped him of all control, had assailed his mind with incompatible energies. With an odd clarity, the memories flowed back: regaining consciousness wrapped in human arms, blankets tucked around him in an effort to keep him out of shock, the litany of comforting words Kirk spoke to pull him back and tie him to reality. It had been the first time in his adult life that he had so relied on another in such a vulnerable state. The memory of it made him uneasy.

He looked at the broad-shouldered man across from him. His eyes fell from the hazel eyes to the captain's stripes, and he reminded himself that rank alone left him vulnerable to this man, that he chose this position willingly.

"Wright did not change his mind?" Spock asked.

Kirk shook his head, looking him over. "He offered an option though you only have to take it if you want to."

An eyebrow rose in question.

"The Zephr has started its mission and they would take you for the duration." The captain tried and failed to read his friend's face.

Spock spoke carefully, "That is a very interesting mission."

Tossing his head, Kirk replied, "Take it then. It is either that or the Yorktown."

"That would not be my first choice," Spock said, then added, "The Zephr is an excellent scientific opportunity."

"You can return at the end."

"You are certain?" At Kirk's confusion, Spock continued, "In the interim, Fleet will assign replacements. At the end of the Zephr's mission, I will only be reassigned to the Enterprise if there is an opening."

Understanding settled in on the captain. "We'll make it work," he said coldly.

Spock looked doubtful, but declined to reply.


The remaining four days on base passed rapidly, much too rapidly for one human captain in particular. Briefings filled with caution and worry about the Orion situation did only a little to distract him from the fact that when the Enterprise departed Starbase Five it would leave without Spock. Spock, for his part, worked non-stop to settle organizational and research issues on the Enterprise. He and Kirk had not had even five minutes together alone since Spock had notified Wright of his acceptance. 

When the all-call to return to the Enterprise rang out over the base public address system, captain and first officer found themselves outside the access tube in docking bay seven. They stood in silence while crewmembers filed past on their return to the ship. All but a few intrepid ones kept their eyes firmly off of the pair standing in the middle of the corridor.

Nothing really need be said. Kirk reached out a hand and patted one warm arm. With a sad smile he said, "Take care, Spock."

"And you, Captain. Exercise caution."

Kirk nodded in reply. With a long look, he turned slowly toward the airlock, reluctance in each step. As he walked down the access tube, he assuaged his rampant emotions with the thought that no matter what happened, Spock would be safe. The Enterprise was heading into an interplanetary civil war but Spock would be safely ensconced on the Zephr in the heart of Federation Space. Kirk would not have to order him out on any insanely dangerous tasks. He would be safe. He heartened himself with this realization all the way to the staff room for the first meeting of the new top officers and bridge crew.

As Kirk entered the briefing room, he found McCoy's brilliant blue eyes drilling him in silence. Kirk gave him an "I'll survive" look. Introductions went around. Commander Flores, the new science officer was small-framed women with a puffy hairstyle that made her look unregulation. First Officer Lt. Tamarin was a thin red-head with a close-cropped beard. He sat with his arms folded as if for warmth, reminding Kirk of someone else.

Kirk gave them the warmest welcome he could muster then shifted immediately into the Orion situation. What Starfleet didn't know would fill the hollow asteroid of Centauris. What they did know was worrisome. Ships were now disappearing, not just being harassed. The top families of the Orion main colony worlds seemed to have fallen out of communication and were no longer conducting business. The homeworld blustered and denied that anything out of the ordinary was happening.

"...so our orders are to proceed to here," the captain pointed at a star chart, "on this edge of Orion space, patrolling along the border. We are to make observations and try to protect private vessels in the area. Three ships have disappeared in this region in the last month. Lots of strange reports from others." Kirk looked around the table. Everyone, even an hour later, was still attentive. "Any questions?"

Chekov raised two fingers for attention. "Kiptin, what other Starfleet ships will be in the area?"

"Ah, yes. The Farragut and the Lexington have also been assigned to the Orion situation." He changed the display to a broader view of the complicated, amoeba-like shape of Orion space. "Lexington will be patrolling on the Axian side of Orion space. The Farragut will not arrive for another fifteen days.  Her assignment has not been determined. Also several cruisers and specialty ships have had their patrols moved to be closer to potential trouble areas."

"So..." Chekov continued. "Not a lot of backup."

"We aren't expected to need it; in Command's view, this is just the Orions after all." Kirk switched off the viewer then stood. "First shift to the bridge for departure."


Spock had not intended to watch the Enterprise undock. He was arranging transport on another Starfleet vessel in the operations office which had a viewport in the ceiling. The officer at the reception desk who was handling his arrangements looked up for a long moment so Spock had done the same out of natural curiosity. The Enterprise was half in view, rotating to it's own new plane as it powered away on impulse. Spock watched until it shrunk to a speck too small to observe unaided. 

When he looked back at the clerk, the man held out Spock's order and schedule chits with a quiet patience. 

"Your ship?" He asked.

"It was."

The human appraised him then gave him a sympathetic look. "Good luck."

Spock nodded and took the proffered chits. He had grown accustomed the crew's random desire for emotional contact, but this total stranger's outreach caught him by surprise. It was not only unwelcome, it unexpectedly weakened his own internal barriers.


Seven days out from Starbase Five, Kirk responded to McCoy's request for a visit to his office at the end of shift. The captain didn't bother to buzz at McCoy's door.

The doctor sat at his disorganized desk, reading a file. "Come on in. Have a seat," he drawled. Kirk took the other chair in the office, moving it closer to the desk. "So, Captain. I just finished the new crew physicals and you'll be happy to know that everyone is in ship-shape."

"You called me down here to tell me that?"

"No, not just that. I also haven't had a chance to talk to you in the last week."

"Things have been busy." Kirk replied. McCoy noticed the wounded edge to Kirk's voice was still present.

"How are you holding up?"

Kirk's brow furrowed. "It's only been a week, Bones."

"I know. I might mention that both Flores and Tamarin mentioned that they have been quite pleased with how they have been accepted aboard, especially by you. They know Spock is expected to return at the end the Zephr mission."

"Who told them that?"

"No one I know, but these things get around. Makes things simpler that way doesn't it? They'll do the honorable thing, step aside..."

"What are you getting at?" Kirk asked with a hard edge to his manner.

McCoy shrugged. "Seems to me you didn't fight this thing very hard and now a lot of people have to rearrange their lives for you to get what you want. It would have been a lot easier to not have given in in the first place."

"There were two choices: Spock goes to the Yorktown or Spock goes to the Zephr."

"Whoa, whoa."  McCoy leaned forward. "This doesn't sound like the James Kirk I know. Accepting the choices put in front of him?"

Kirk opened his mouth and then closed it again without replying.

"What is it, Jim?"

Kirk frowned. "I... I'm not sure Spock didn't want to leave."

McCoy leaned back in his chair. "Hmmm." Was all he said.

Kirk continued, "He'd been so antsy lately. Standoff-ish. And it wasn't that he was avoiding me, exactly, but he seemed uncomfortable around me where before he had really relaxed." He sighed. "I don't know."

"Did you ask him about this?"

"I tried in the end, but..." He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Jim." McCoy said.

Kirk stood and nodded acceptance. "Anything else you wanted to talk about?" At McCoy's shake of the head, Kirk left.


Spock stood in the engineering workshop aboard the Zephr assembling a sensor module for the main array. The room had emptied forty-six minutes ago and the silence was quite welcome. That was the biggest change for Spock since coming aboard the Zephr: the silence. The all-Vulcan crew spoke quietly, walked quietly, and even ate quietly. Spock had not felt so relaxed while on duty since he joined Starfleet.

Placing the completed unit into a padded case, Spock mused that this task was by far the most critical one he had been assigned. Captain Sren, a tall, broad, solidly built Vulcan with a prominent square jaw, had started Spock's assignments out in very non-critical areas of the test equipment. Apparently Spock's performance was more than adequate, as he had responsibility now for the most sensitive units only a week later. After double checking that the case and tools were locked firmly into their storage units he exited the shop.

It was nearing the end of meal time. With only a crew of thirty-one, meals were only available during a one hour window. Spock suspected that this rule was less a technical one than a social engineering one, but he accepted it. The meals were only half machine-prepared. The assistant to the lead physicist handled cooking duties, and as a result, the food was by far the best Vulcan cuisine available off-planet.

Spock entered the mess. One or two crew looked up at him and acknowledged him with a glance. Spock collected a tray and sat at the far end of a table occupied by a meditating D'Winh, the navigator. She opened her eyes and regarded him with, had she been human, a look that Spock would have believed meant she was pleased to see him.

"I am not disturbing you?" Spock asked.

"Certainly not." She regarded him in a long look. 

Spock glanced around the room rather than meet her eyes.  It was a room of metered conversation and calculated movement; he allowed himself to relax his control.

"That is an improvement." D'Winh's voice pulled his attention back. His controls snapped firmly back into place.

She shook her head slightly and stood up in a graceful, efficient movement. "If you will excuse me?"

After a split second of additional recovery time, Spock nodded. As D'Winh walked away, Captain Sren approached.

"I need to know a completion time estimate for the last five modules," he said.

"I have just finished them." Spock replied.

Not even the faintest flicker crossed Sren's face, but Spock was certain the other was experiencing surprise. "Indeed. I will inform Turen."

"I left him a message on his terminal." Spock said.

After a pause, Sren added, "I will have to find another task for you."

Spock pushed his tray aside and steepled his fingers in front of himself. "I overheard T'Ring and Turen discussing the mathematics of the data collection. I would like to contribute if possible."

Sren thought a moment. "If you believe you are capable of contributing to this phase of the project..."

"I am...quite certain I can contribute something positive."  Spock had come to realize that while humans had egos, Vulcans had something much more complex and not as easily assuaged, resulting, ironically, in a more difficult situation where crew assignment was involved.

Sren nodded in acceptance of this. "I will inform T'Ring."

As Sren exited, Spock deposited his tray in the recycler. As he walked back to his quarters, he wondered if Sren had read his vitae; and if he had, why he had continually exhibited a reluctance to give Spock any significant duties. Spock had not encountered any bias that he could detect in any other crewmembers. It certainly suggested that Sren had not requested him for this mission as Admiral Wright had said, which begged the question of where Wright really stood on this issue of Spock's service.


It took the Enterprise nearly another week to reach the edge of Orion space. Tamarin turned out to be an excellent organizer. Kirk watched over the last five days as he drilled the bridge crew on not only the course but also on target identification, Orion clan hierarchy, and obscure emergency procedure. The result was a tradeoff of fatigue for confidence, though Kirk wasn't expecting anything immediately and figured they'd have a chance to recover. He was right; they spent interminable long days patrolling, scanning, and listening.

Kirk sat in his quarters going over reports when the door chimed. "Come." Kirk said. Lt. Tamarin stepped in. As his profile stepped out of the light from the hallway, Kirk noted that while he was a thin as Spock, he had a gangly-ness that made him very un-Spock like. "What can I do for you, Mister Tamarin?"

"Uh..." the man blushed and there was no hiding it: his face lit up almost to the color of his hair.  "One of the bridge crew happened to mention that you are an ardent chess player, Sir."

Kirk held his expression utterly still. "That is true." 

"Well, uh, I was wondering if you were interested in playing a few games?"

"Perhaps tomorrow after first shift, in the rec room." Kirk said. 

Tamarin bowed and backed to the door where he took a long, awkward step through the doorway. In the resulting quiet, Kirk realized he dearly missed Spock.  He hoped he was getting along on the Zephr. He selfishly hoped Spock was missing him as well though not enough to cause him difficulty. Kirk sighed into the empty room and shutdown the report reader.


Spock sat in on the next meeting to discuss the methodology for data collection for the second phase of the project. Phase one had just finished when Spock had arrived on board, and he had spent most of his time catching up with all aspects of the project. 

T'Ring, Turen, and two student crewmembers sat around a low table discussing the design of the sensor array and how the current design would effect the amount of error in the data. A three-dimensional image hung over the table showing the sensor array overlaid with regions representing interference from the ship and the sensors themselves. 

Spock sat silently through most of the meeting. While he had retained his rank, it had no relation to his authority. 

The conversation had become circular and T'Ring put a stop to it. In the ensuing silence, Spock said, "Perhaps it would be best to put the array in place and calibrate it, rather than trying to predict where the noise will come from and what it's impact will be."

Everyone looked at him unreadably. They were theoretical scientists. Spock's early science education on Vulcan had also been very heavily theoretical, but being in Starfleet for almost twenty years had turned him into an empirical scientist: after all, if in the end it doesn't work, people die, ships explode, bad things could happen. Theory for Spock was now just a means to an end; the end being to get machines, computers, and devices to function. This was at best a sacreligious viewpoint with the present company.

No one spoke for several minutes. Turen finally said, "We will fall behind schedule if the array is not installed in the next three calendar days."

"That is true," T'Ring said, as though wishing it weren't.


On the fifth day of patrol the Enterprise finally detected something.

"Captain, we are receiving a scattered bounce of a tight-beam Orion distress message." Uhura said in her silken voice.

Kirk spun in his chair, "Can you translate it?"

She touched one red fingernail to her earpiece. "Just a moment, Captain." After several moments of adjustment she said, "It is a message from an Orion space station, a private station...they are under some kind of attack."

"Pass the signal coordinates to Helm. Mr. Sulu plot a course to your best guess of the origination of that signal. We have an excuse to enter Orion space; let's make use of it."

Sulu's hands flickered over his board. "Course plotted and laid in, Sir." 

"Very good. Warp five. ETA?"

"Fourteen hours, three minutes, Captain."

"Sp... Commander, long range scans show anything?" He frowned at himself and stood up to walk to the science console.

Commander Flores shook her head without looking up from the viewer. When she did look up she studied Kirk far too closely.

"Keep scanning, Commander." Kirk said softly to apologize for the slip.

As they approached the system Sulu had identified as the source of the signal, Kirk ordered a halt. 

"I'm getting something, Captain." Flores said from her station. "Putting it on main screen."

The distress signals had ceased over ten hours ago and Kirk now saw why. Seven small ships were systematically cutting away at the station. Even with the damage the original glory of the station still showed. Grandiose docking bays with florettes and spires as well as gold-plated viewports adorned the now-dark hulk. The ships seemed to be concentrating on what may have been the control tower, an especially baroque-looking contraption.

Kirk sensed Tamarin at his shoulder. "That module they are cutting away is in the shape of the House G'Dsabg Seal."

Kirk turned to him. "You think they're taking it away as a trophy?"

Flores interrupted, "Captain, I think we need to take a look at these ships."

"What are they?"

"That's just it, Sir. They don't match anything in the databank. Fifty-thousand metric tons. Length: one-hundred eighty-six meters. Hull composition unknown. Our sensors are unreliable at scanning the interior but it doesn't look like they have shielding, so I don't understand what it going on with that."

"Do they know we're here?"

She bent over the hood. "I believe we are well within their sensor range."

Kirk moved back to his chair. "So. We are unimportant. That is...different."

They watched the bulbous, disk-shaped, silver ships darting around the station, cutting away at the superstructure in unorganized passes over it.

"Captain! Two ships have left the station and are on a course directly for us." Flores voice had gone up an octave.

"Red Alert." Kirk said. "Shields at maximum. Take no offensive action. Let's see what they do." He turned to Uhura. "Can you hail them?"

She shook her head.

"One-hundred thousand kilometers and closing fast." Chekov said.

"Course one-oh-seven mark four impulse only. Let them pass overhead."

The silver orbs pealed off overhead.

"Weapons charging!" Flores shouted.

"Flores..." Kirk started to remonstrate her for her overzealous reporting. He was interrupted by the bridge rocking severely and the lights flickering. "What was that?" Kirk demanded as the artificial gravity stabilized.

"Some kind of energy beam from the two ships." Sulu supplied. "They're coming around again." Kirk was grateful for a calm voice.

"Current course, warp three." Kirk said.

After a moment delay Scotty's voice came over the intercom. "Not a chance, Captain.   The mains are offline.  Direct hit on the condensers."

"Through the shields?" Kirk asked no one in particular. "Weapons, target those ships, I want full phasers on both when they get in range."

Hands flew over panels with practiced accuracy. "Here they come!" Chekov announced.

The Enterprise's phasers rang out, one scored a hit that seemed to deflect off an angle and disperse as if it had passed through a prism. The alien ships fired one after the other. The Enterprise rocked sickly. This time the lights didn't come back up and the emergencies had to kick in. In the pale red light Kirk clamered down to the weapons console. 

Uhura's voice followed him down. "Decks twelve and thirteen report a hull breach. Emergency teams en-route."

"Photon torpedos ready?" Kirk asked.

Chekov nodded. On screen the little ships had passed under to starboard and were on a slow arc back toward the Orion station.

"Fire, Sir?"

Kirk watched as their course straightened out and away. "Hold your fire." He said sharply. He breathed deeply. The air seemed stale. "Hold your fire." He said again. On screen the station had been cut into two.

"Scotty. What can you give me?"

After a long delay the engineer came on. "In terms of propulsion?"

"Yes." Kirk backed up into his chair and sat heavily.

"Aboot three-fifths impulse power. It's a real mess down here."

"We need it. Helm set course three-seven mark zero, three-fifths impulse."

"How long before warp is available?"

"I doen' know, Captain. I'll call when I do."

The emergency lighting was still on. The air seemed staler. "Uhura. Status."

"Major damage on decks twelve and thirteen. Minor damage to decks three, four, and five. Seventeen injured, four dead."

Kirk closed his eyes for a long moment. "Flores, what the hell hit us?" He refused to let himself wish Spock were here.

Flores sat at her station facing the captain. Her lips moved a moment with no sound before she found her voice. "I am not certain. I...It looks like a standard laser but somehow carried on another beam. Like a subspace beam or something like a subspace beam. At least, that's what it looks like from the four sensor samples I have."

Kirk stared at her, tongue working at the back of his teeth. "The shields are transparent to sub-space."

"Yes, Sir." She seemed to relax. "The resulting beam is not well-focused as you may have noticed."

"No, I hadn't noticed. You are saying we were hit with a poorly-focused beam."

"Yes, Sir. Lasers are not effective if they aren't focused, unless they are very high power. These were moderately powered and moderately focused."

Kirk tapped his fingers on his armrest. "And they didn't finish us off which they could have easily. So...this was just a demonstration. Well, I'm not above taking a hint. Uhura, tight beam secure transmission to Starfleet, tell them what has happened."

They retreated on impulse power for twenty minutes. Kirk itched to visit sickbay to see the damage and shore up morale where he could, but he couldn't leave the bridge so close to hostile forces. It would be hours before they was any kind of buffer between them.


Spock sat programming in his quarters. He justified working on his code module alone on the basis of T'Ring and her assistant's working style. It was long after shift at this point but he continued to work rather than sleep or meditate. He had realized over the last few days that while the scientific mission of this assignment was interesting and the level of research impeccable, he was losing interest in it. This evening he had finally admitted to himself that he was bored. The work, while intellectually stimulating, did not hold his interest the way multiple projects and continuous discovery--not to mention the high stress--did on the Enterprise.

He stared at the lines of computer code on the screen without really seeing them. An emotion had been slowly building in him over the last two weeks and now it demanded attention. His first effort at suppressing the empty chill of lonliness failed so he was forced to resort to meditation. He closed down the terminal and moved sit on his feet in front of the built-in firepot.

Allowing himself to experience emotion due to Kirk's absence was unacceptable and a waste of energy. As he sat watching the flame flicker, he heartened to realize how unaccustomed to this emotion he had become on the Enterprise.


Twenty hours after their encounter with the alien ships, Kirk pulled himself off the bridge for rest. Considering the enemy had warp, their buffer was miniscule, but exhaustion was taking its toll. He scheduled a meeting of the head sciences and engineering staff for nine hours later. 

Kirk walked bleary-eyed to the briefing room. Someone handed him a coffee, for which he was infinitely grateful. As he sat down, the room quieted. 

"All right. The primary purpose of this meeting is to determine the origin of those ships. They did not just suddenly appear in the middle of Federation space, someone must have seen them before. Flores?"

"Captain." She nodded. Her hair looked its flattest ever, dull in the cold light. "Engineering and Sciences have been working on this since the attack.   Our current conclusion is that they are of Tholian design, but we don't have a match, so this is an educated guess"

Kirk sat back and took that in. "And the weapon?"

"Again, we have no exact match of this weapon in our databanks. A weapon of this type has been theorized previously and is considered feasible...if certain engineering problems were overcome."

Kirk nodded. "I want all resources in sciences and engineering and even history dedicated to researching this weapon and these ships. Any questions?" A few heads shook. "Well, let's get to work then."


Spock spent most of the next few days working in his quarters. He came out for meals only because Captain Sren expected it. It was at the end of first shift that his door chimed. Spock had not heard the door chime before, it was a calm, low tone compared to the Enterprise.

Spock triggered the door to open from the desk controls and D'Winh stepped into the room. She paused just inside the doors, silently waiting for permission to enter farther. At Spock's nod she moved to stand beside the desk. She was of below-average height for a Vulcan and of slight build. She wore the robe version of the Vulcan Exploration & Sciences uniform, a black garment with red trim on the collar.

"May I have a seat?" She asked.

Spock nodded and turned his monitor to the side.

She sat down on the edge of the chair in perfect posture. "This is only...a social call. As the humans would say." Her eyes travelled over his brown meditation robe. It was of the finest material, reminding her of his Family. His left eyebrow had gone up. "Am I disturbing you?" She asked.

"No." He sat back, hands clasped before him, the picture of control.

D'Winh tilted her head at him curiously. "I am interested in how you are faring here. I noticed you had withdrawn the last few days. Certainly you are not feeling overwhelmed?"

"No." He looked uncomfortable. "I am merely able to work alone, and am choosing to do so. Is that unusual?"

"On this ship it is unusual. I have no other experiences upon which to make a generalization." She looked him over closely again. "Are you trying to avoid someone?" She couldn't imagine he'd had a falling out with anyone so soon.

"Not precisely. I am simply most efficient this way."

She almost smiled to Spock's surprise. "Efficiency is not something missing from your work from what I hear."

"I am accustomed to finishing tasks as quickly as possible."

"Apparently."

Spock sat forward. Despite his earlier desire to avoid personal interaction, he found himself grateful for someone to talk to. He had grown accustomed to having Jim and McCoy to speak with frankly on any topic. "I seem to have different work methods than the other researchers."

"Yes. I have heard that too."

Spock bristled. "I did not realize so much gossip was being passed around."

"It isn't gossip as the humans define it. It is just a very small community." She studied his broad shoulders and long fingers a moment. "What I really came to ask was if you had any interest in casual physical interaction."

Spock's brow furrowed before jumping to his bangs in a look of surprise. "If I understand you correctly...I must...decline."

D'Winh stood. "I did not mean to offend."

"You have not. I am...unavailable." He stated frankly. His body was reminding him that sex had recently gone from being a very frequent phenomena to an absent one.   He ignored it.

"I did not realize." She said.

Spock stood as well. "Apparently gossip does not travel too far."

"I do not understand."

He shook his head. "It is of no matter."

"I will take my leave so that you may return to your previous task." She stepped toward the door after another close but glancing inspection of him. After the doors slid closed, Spock realized that her earlier looks had been admiring ones. He shook himself and tried to refocus on his work.


The first shift bridge crew of the Enterprise sat tense as the ship made its slow retreat toward Callen Six the closest Federation planet with a substantial port. The comm whistled. "Engineering to Captain." Scott's voice came across.

"Go ahead Scotty." Kirk said.

"Aye, I can give you a little warp power for aboot six hours. We've got it jury-rigged all ta hell, but, well, don' take it over warp one point six."

"Good work, Scotty. Helm take us up to warp one point six."

"Aye, Sir."

Hearing and feeling the warp drive kick-in released a lot of the bridge tension. They sailed along for most of Scotty's allowed time before Kirk stood and walked over behind Uhura. "Any reply from Starfleet?"

"No, Sir." Uhura pulled the stalk from her ear and looked up at him.

"Anything from those ships out there?"

"Not that we are able to intercept."

Kirk nodded and decided to head to sickbay for his morning visit. "Mr. Tamarin, you have the bridge."

In sickbay, Uhura notified Kirk that Starfleet's reply had now come in and was coded secure.  Kirk acknowledged and took great pleasure in finishing the rounds of sickbay before heading to his quarters.

In the recorded message, Commodore Mendez's face looked worn and sleepless. "Kirk, I hope you manage to make repairs. The Farragut was hit en-route to your location. They are without warp drive and are unable to come to your aid. We have received your sensor sample of their weapon and are analyzing it. The science and weapons people here have more questions than answers regarding it. We have no advice at the moment as to how to combat it.  They concur with your guess that the ships are Tholian. We have sent an emissary to them in hopes of getting some specifications."

Good luck to them, Kirk thought.

"Will follow up when we know more. Mendez out."

He switched off and scrubbed his face with his hands.  He felt disjointed to be dealing with such monumental problems without Spock's support. He felt more uncertain than he had in a long while and that bothered him a lot.

The comm whistled and Tamarin's voice came over, "Captain, we're approaching something, looks like it might be a mine field."

"Full stop." Kirk ordered, "I'll be right up."

On the bridge, Kirk joined Flores and Mr. Scott conferring at the science station. "What is it?"

Flores hit a switch to put it on screen.  The extreme range resulted in a very pixelated image. "It looks like a very old mine field. If we can move in another million kilometers we can get a much better idea."

"Is that a safe distance?"

"Yes, Sir."

Kirk turned to the center of the bridge. "Mr. Sulu, bring us in another million kilometers."

As they approached, Flores watched the sensor readouts in the hood. Suddenly she sat down and began madly making adjustments to the instruments. "Captain." She said with some excitement.

He leaned down beside her. "What is it?"

She yielded the hood to him. "It looks like one of those Tholian ships is caught in the mines."

Kirk looked into the hood. The three dimensional display of telemetry, energy readings, and visual imagery took a moment to make sense. As they approached, the image clarified into what appeared to be one of the disk-shaped Tholian ships caught in the mines. It looked as though it had taken a beating: burn marks and indentations were evident on the side facing them. Took a beating and remained functioning; he noted the stable energy output from the craft. He was both impressed and concerned by it.

"How close can we get without setting the mines off?"

"These mines are principally capture mines. They have conventional explosive in them that also powers their engines. They move in on a ship and attach themselves. If the ship holds still, the mines do not go off. It is only if the ship tries to escape that the mines explode and try to destroy it. Their sensors are of a sixty-year-old design, I would estimate they have a range of two-hundred thousand kilometers. They are not proximity triggered, they are energy triggered. Our shields would protect us from the worst of a blast. They are mostly a navigational hazard."

"How in the universe did they get caught? That ship out-classes the Enterprise and we certainly saw it in time."

Flores shook her head. "I don't know, Sir. It does seem odd."

"Position of the other seven ships?"

"They are out of sensor range. We have not been able to monitor them for over twelve hours." She paused and said carefully, "You did not state that you wanted to be informed when we lost their signature."

Kirk pulled himself out of the deep thought he was in and waved her off, "No, I didn't. I didn't need to know."  He moved back to the center seat.

"If we move in slowly, they may not trigger, Commander?"

"Correct. According to the history banks, they are designed to not attack freighters."

"Well, Mr. Sulu, can you move us in and try to make us look like a freighter."

"Aye, Sir."

Kirk thumbed the comm, "Security team to the transporter room."

"Yer not going over there, are ye' Captain?" Scotty's incredulous voice asked. "I don' think we can beam ya' through that hull."

Kirk chewed his upper lip and thumbed the comm again. "Bely that order. Security report to the shuttle bay." He released the comm switch. "Scotty, I need your two best weapons experts. Tell them to report to the shuttle bay as well."

Scotty hesitated but finally said in a rough voice, "Aye, Sir."

Kirk stood up and walked over to stand before navigation. "Mr. Sulu. I am leaving you in charge. Mr. Scott is working on repairs and that is of primary importance."

"Yes, Sir." Sulu sat at attention.

"I want you to listen closely. You are to wait three hours for us. If you don't hear anything from us, you are to take the Enterprise and continue to Callen Six." Sulu's lips moved without any sound. "Do you understand?"

Sulu sat even straighter. "Yes, Captain." He looked manifestly unhappy.

"I'm counting on you, Mr. Sulu."

Sulu nodded. Kirk waited a moment, staring him down, before stepping up to the lift doors. "Flores, you are also assigned to assist engineering until repairs are finished." He then left the bridge with a meaningful glance at Mr. Tamarin who seemed confused. Flores stood up and moved to the engineering station. In theory, both she and Tamarin were ahead of Sulu in the chain of command. They shared a meaningful look before she turned to her board and pulled up the engineering schematics database.

In the shuttle bay the team was assembling. Mr. Scott stepped out of the door of the shuttle. "Everything checks out okay, Captain. The hatch cutter is installed, Flores thinks you can get through with heat, of all things." He walked over to the control panel.

Kirk followed him over and depressed the comm on the panel. "Bridge, anything new on the sensors?"

"The sensors are behaving very strangely inside that ship, Kiptin. The hull distorts the sensor beams. I am getting indeterminate readings." Chekov's voice came across.

Kirk walked over to the four security members. "I want everyone on high alert." He then turned to the two engineering assistants. Ensign Taylor, Kirk recognized as the fumble-fingered tech from his last visit to engineering. She look properly in control now. The other was Ensign Briggs, Kirk pulled from his memory. "Your sole goal is to determine the nature of their laser weapon. You can record other things inside, but I want you focused on the primary task. We must find a way to combat this weapon."

He turned to the whole group. "Only short-range, tight-beam transmissions are to be used once we leave Enterprise. I want to go undetected by our other friends out there. If they realize we are here, I expect they will pay us a visit and they won't be as gracious as last time."

Kirk stepped up into the shuttle. "Everyone ready? Let's go."

As the Copernicus sailed clear of the shuttle doors. Kirk turned to Lt. Watson, his co-pilot, "We need to find the flatest surface on that ship for cutting a hatch. Get a diagram up on that display for me."

The boarding party watched with no little awe as their captain masterfully piloted the clumsy vessel into position near the alien ship. The metallic surface undulated away from them out the forward viewport. Three unexploded mines held fast to the hull within fifty meters of their attachment point. Burn marks and scarring evidence of their activity.

With a soft clang, the hulls came into contact. Several crew released their pent-up breath as the mines held steady. "Get the cutters going," Kirk ordered the security team leader.


They stepped inside a wide, dark corridor. Here and there clusters of status lights glowed out at them, providing some illumination. "Lights." Kirk ordered. Two security members pointed their portable lamps at the ceiling and turned them on. They all looked around, security with their weapons at ready. The captain turned to Briggs. "Where is the weapons control room from here?" 

Briggs studied his tricorder. "That way." He pointed down a side corridor.

As a cluster, they followed Briggs' instructions, sometimes having to move one at a time through narrow passages. They finally entered a long narrow curved hallway along the edge of the hull. Taylor's eyes were wide as she took in the array of brand new equipment lining the inner wall.

"This is it, Captain." Briggs said as he began removing the panels from a hulk mounted along the outer hull. He looked back at Taylor scanning the other side of the gap. "Hey Taylor, get over here." She looked up and came over to assist. 

Kirk leaned against a strut, observing the techs and the clock: one hour of the three he had alloted had already past. Panels and circuitry were propped up around the unit now. Both techs scanned in a silent concentration that Kirk did not want to disturb. Security stood at the ends of the alcove also silently alert. Kirk watched with interest as Taylor nudged Briggs and they discussed something in fast whispers that seemed to be degenerating into a debate.

"What is it?" Kirk came close.

Taylor said. "I don't think they've shielded the main coil sufficiently."

"I don't think it needs it." Briggs said as he unhooked another unit and pulled it partway out for scanning.

"What would that mean if it wasn't shielded enough?"

"Well, it is basically a large version of our subspace communications array. An electromagnetic pulse would cause the coil to blow."

"Briggs." Kirk asked, "You don't agree with that?"

The ensign sighed. "It would take a hell of a pulse to penetrate the hull's natural protection." He looked at the hull curving overhead. "She's quite a ship, Sir."

Kirk nodded in thought. "Taylor, send that message to the Enterprise. That the weapon may be suseptible to an electromagnetic pulse."

"Aye, Sir." She backed out of the way of Briggs and pulled out her communicator.

After a few minutes of watching to see that security was still alert, Kirk approached Taylor. "Get the message out?" 

"Still working on it. Having a hard time establishing a low-power channel through this hull."

Kirk nodded and walked counter-clockwise to the next alcove. Security looked uneasy. "What is it?"

"We sent two scouts out around this loop," Smith whispered. "They are overdue."

Kirk glanced back at the techs working as he pulled out his phaser. He couldn't see the two guards at the other end of the corridor. "Anything on your tricorder?"

Smith pulled out his pocket unit and shook his head. "The inner corridors are made of the same material as the hull, it acts as a lens so you can't always detect what is on the other side. Haven't seen any energy dispersals like a phaser would have though." He hunkered down, phaser at ready.

Kirk stepped sideways until he could get a look at the guards on the other side. They were also at alert. In that moment, a panel slid open in front of Kirk. He looked up into the helmeted face of an Orion and opened his mouth to shout a warning. The phaser in his hand felt heavy as he brought it around to aim. The action was too late: in a blurred motion one thick, blue clad arm, swept up and across, slashing him open with a dura-steel cutting tool.

A vivid memory of Kirk's first drill instructor at the academy, a bulky Austrian women with close-cropped brown hair and a face as wide as it was high, screaming into his face "He who hesitates...loses!" burned through his mind. It was his last thought. He didn't feel himself hit the deck.

Taylor looked up at the commotion in time to see the Captain flailing backward onto the floor. She would have screamed, had her lungs been functioning. Phaser fire erupted suddenly, seemingly from everywhere. Hitting the deck, she scrambled into the shadow of the next hulk of equipment. "Briggs! Get down!" She yelled as as the panels they had removed from the laser unit where tossed about in the fire.

She scooted forward and peeked out. The captain's body lay just in front of her. Taylor knew to the milliliter how much coolant the impulse engines needed. She knew to the drop how much antimatter was added to the core after a refit. She apparently had no idea how much blood the human body held, because there seemed to be far more than was possible leaking from the body in front of her. Oozing in little surges, she realized. She moved forward, more fascinated than disgusted. A stray phaser blast made her jump.

His heart is still beating, she realized in amazement; considering he looked nearly cut in half. The heart is just a pump, when it runs out of blood it will seize. Something teased at her memory. The ship was silent now except for the whisper of the ventilators.

"Briggs?" she pleaded. She didn't really like him, but couldn't have been more grateful to hear another human voice when he acknowledged. She looked up at the panel on the wall in front of her and remembered her earlier scanning. "Get over here and help me." Taylor said, pressing the buttons on the panel. 

Briggs came over in a crouch. "Oh my God," he breathed when he saw the captain; his voice choked as though with grief.

"Give me a hand." She had the cabinet door open and was getting her hands under the captain's shoulders.

Briggs looked from the unit to her. "You've got to be kidding!" But he moved to lift Kirk's legs.

"You got a better idea?" Taylor snapped.

Together they clumsily slid the limp form into the unit. Hurriedly Taylor shut the panel and hit the activate button. Slowly, one after the other, the full array of green lights illuminated. She let out a breath like a sob.

One of the security lamps lay at an odd angle on the floor nearby, just touching the fingertips of the dead crewmen reaching toward it. She stared into the light as shock settled into her mind making coherent thought impossible. The utter silence around them seemed to hammer at her ears. She held up her hand in the dim light, the red blood bright against coal-black skin. How can something be simultaneously so slippery and sticky, she wondered idly as she tried to clean her hands on her uniform.

"Let's rep...report and get back to the shuttle." Briggs managed. He scrambled to find his communicator in the shadows of the equipment.

"Mr. Sulu, we are getting a signal from the boarding party," Uhura said. "Briggs and Taylor report they have been attacked and are making their way back to the shuttle.

Sulu turned to her. "Just the two of them?" He composed himself. "Anything show on a scan? Flores, retake sciences."

Flores crossed the bridge in quick strides and looked into her hood. After a moment she reported, "I only detect two lifeforms."

"Any more to that message, Uhura?" Sulu asked with a sinking feeling turning his gut to cold molasses.

She adjusted her receiver. "No, Sir."

The lift doors opened. McCoy stepped off and down to the command circle. "What's goin' on out there?"

"We don't know yet." Sulu stated coldly.


Crouching for no particularly good reason, Taylor followed Briggs as they worked their way back toward the shuttle. It seemed much farther than it had earlier.

"Are you *sure* this is the right way? I don't remember this section." She whispered.

"I have it marked on my tricorder, okay? That's the procedure. I followed the procedure," he snapped back.

They exited a narrow radial corridor and entered a wide command and control area.

"This way. Almost there." He breathed as he reached for the rungs of an access tube to the next level up.

"Wait! What is that?" Taylor grabbed his shirt. "My hair is standing on end."

He shook her off. "My hair's been standing on end since we came aboard.

"No! this is-- Get down!"


"Come kind of energy release on the alien wessel," Chekov reported.

Sulu stood and stepped down beside him. "What happened?"

Flores madly made adjustments to the sensors. She sat back and composed herself before reporting. "There are no determinate lifesigns on the other vessel, Sir."

"What!" McCoy exploded.

The room stood still for nearly a minute before Chekov looked up at his friend standing behind him. "Your orders, Mr. Sulu?"


Spock had been assigned to the bridge today, the first day of real data collection.   Minor bugs in the sensor and collection code had needed fixing initially, but now they sat monitoring the output from the sensor array. The bridge crew did their jobs in near silence. Spock stood near the rail, watching the data stream on a large notepad, when he felt the floor tilt alarmingly beneath his feet. The pad clattered to the floor as his legs collapsed beneath him.

Dimly aware that everyone was looking at him, Spock put his hand onto the railing to try to stand up. His body seemed to have lost all its strength. Even breathing required effort. He felt as if the center of his torso had been yanked out leaving him insubstantial.

Captain Sren was in front of him. "Spock?" Sren did not touch him. "Comm, call Healer Sunar to the bridge."

"Acknowledged." A distance voice said.

Spock concentrated on breathing until Sunar approached, although breathing, an obvious activity, seemed to have lost its meaning. Spock shook his head. An egg-shaped scanner was waved in front of his chest. For a split second, Spock had expected Dr. McCoy.

"Can you stand?" Sunar asked, grasping Spock under the bicep after double shielding his mind. From somewhere the sense of how to stand upright returned and Spock allowed himself to be led off the bridge and down the corridor to the medical ward.

Sunar laid him on a bed in an isolation room, activated the bio-scanner over the bed and turned to Sren who had followed. With a nod of his head he indicated they should depart.

In the main medical ward Sunar said, "His records are incorrect." Sren looked at him in question a moment before indicating that he understood.

"Will he recover?" Sren asked.

"I have never treated one such as he, but it seems likely that he will recover. He will be in some difficulty for several days."

Sren nodded. "If you decide that a proxy would be helpful, I am available."

Sunar raised an eyebrow but nodded in acknowledgment.

Spock lay trying to remember that breathing was important despite a new sense that seemed to indicate otherwise. Sunar approached the bed and pulled a thick thermal blanket over the patient. Spock came to his senses with a jerk and sat up.

"Is is all right if I touch you to remove your boots?" Sunar asked.

Spock stared at him as if he could not understand the question then finally nodded.

After setting the soft-soled boots on the floor, Sunar studied his charge. Spock clutched the blanket around himself, trembling slightly. Sunar supposed that Spock's hybridity would reduce what was exclusively a Vulcan difficulty, but that did not appear to be the case. He could sense shame radiating from the other. "I will leave you to yourself, Spock." Sunar turned and started out.

"What...?" Spock began. Sunar turned back. Spock was failing to hide an expression of confusion. "What is wrong with me?"

Sunar froze an instant before re-approaching the bed. "You do not know?"

Spock considered this. Considered the gaping maw that seemed to have taken the place of his very soul. He shook his head, unable to imagine an easy explanation.

Sunar stiffened and thought a moment. "You are suffering tel-tor shaya, a severed bond."

Spock's brow furrowed in confusion before he bent over himself with a strangled moan.

Bolstering his control, Sunar said, "I will leave you. You do not appear to be in danger now, but I will return if the monitor indicates you are in physical difficulty." His patient didn't acknowledge that he'd heard, but Sunar supposed he must have, so he departed.

"Jim." Spock gasped into the thermal blanket.

Continued in part 2