Strength of Men Chapter 9/12
Mar. 28th, 2010 08:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
1lostoneAuthor:
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1lostone Pairing/Characters: K/S, mentions of other relationships
Rating/Category: NC-17
Universe: ST Reboot
Wordcount: 44,535k (out of roughly 60k before betad... give or take)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. *eyeballs mortgage* Clearly.
A/N: Well, we're moving along here. Yeah, some people have guessed that some of the characters in the TOS episode Conscience of the King- only it's a redux version. And by redux, the characters are quite a lot more... evil... than in the original. *shrug* :D Thanks as always to
ostia2006 and ladyblahblah for letting me ask them the most random of questions and being damn awesome. Chapter Notes: OMG I FINISHED THIS STORY!!! *beams*
Warnings: H/C, Angst, Longfic, Attempts To Write Plot, Use Of Every Fandom Cliche Since The Dawn Of Time
Chapter 1 ~~ Chapter 2 ~~ Chapter 3 ~~ Chapter 4
~~ Chapter 8
“Okay, seriously what the hell is your problem?”
“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant?”
“Don’t you dare ‘Lieutenant’ me, Commander. We aren’t on duty. I want to know what’s made you so mad.” Nyota sat across from him, eyes narrowed in a glare that he hadn’t seen since he tried to assign her to another ship. Her arms were crossed and her chin was stuck out at such a sharp angle that Spock was privately 76.8 percent certain that she would strain something if it remained in that position for too much longer.
He finished entering his last few keystrokes.
Nyota’s glare became even more pronounced. Spock found it improbable that one petite human woman could look so foreboding. He sighed.
“I have several problems at the moment that need my attention. Perhaps this instant isn’t the best time for a discussion.”
She made a sound under her breath. “Spock, are we friends?”
“We have discussed that since we are no longer intimately involved our relationship is now that of friends, yes.”
“And what does that mean, exactly?”
“I do not understand the question.”
“What does it mean to you, Spock, to have me as a friend?” her voice was quite without emotion, and the strangeness of hearing her speak in this manner caused faint alarm bells to go off in Spock’s head.
“I value your intelligence. And kindness. And our camaraderie over a meal is something I find myself looking forward to after a particularly grueling day.” Spock detected a slight thawing in her body language.
“Thank you. I feel the same way. And I want to help you. But you have to explain for me, Spock, because I don’t understand why fifteen minutes ago you jumped up as though I had poked you and left in the middle of a conversation, only to stalk back in here later looking like you wanted to kill someone. You’ve been sitting there, punching those keys so hard that I know it had to hurt; I remember how sensitive your hands are. And now, you won’t talk to me.” She sighed, and seemed to slump in on herself. “I know you value your privacy, but you’ve been so different these past few weeks. And you keep shutting me out. I just want to help you.” She repeated, blinking hard, suspicious moisture in her eyes.
Spock frowned. It had not been his intention to provoke such an emotional response in Nyota. Friendship was a fairly foreign concept to him- other than Nyota and the recent tentative forays with Jim he had none and hadn’t really minded that fact- but he did not care for the fact that he had upset her.
He reached out and touched the back of her hand with a finger- a Vulcan version of a peck on the cheek.
“My apologies, Nyota. It was not my intention to. . .” he searched for the correct Human term, “. . . hurt your feelings. It is true that you will likely be able to assist me with my current situation. I confess, I have wished to have someone to discuss the matter with, but have not wished to burden you with my own… weakness.”
Nyota smiled, looking down at his hand where it rested near hers. “Okay, so… what’s up?”
Spock paused, gathering his thoughts. “I accidentally bonded with the captain.” Nyota’s eyes grew wide enough that Spock reflected that he possibly should have led up to that revelation.
“You…”
“Indeed. I do not know how I could have made such an error. I believe it happened while I was on the ship with the captain. I initiated a meld with him while he was–” Spock broke off, remembering for a moment the horrific sound emanating from Jim’s throat, echoing off the walls of the ship. “Quite distraught. Later, I had the bond removed.”
“You had the bond removed?” She sounded more horrified at the idea of the bond’s removal than by the fact that Spock had bonded to Jim in the first place. “But a bond between a Vulcan and their mate is revered. Sacred even. That meeting of minds… why, you would have everything in your mate.” She sounded wistful.
“You are correct, although I confess I am curious to how you came by this knowledge. Humans are not commonly aware of the vital nature of a bond outside of the occasional vague understanding of their existence.”
Nyota bit her lip and looked away from him.
Spock raised an eyebrow. He had taught enough human cadets to know what that particular expression meant.
“Um…”
“Nyota, your hesitation would seem to indicate that you are not planning to be forthright in your verbal response.”
“Well.” She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I was a cadet embarking on a serious relationship with the only Vulcan in Starfleet. I, um, wanted information so I…asked.”
“Who did you ask?” Spock asked the question but was 93.9 percent sure that he already knew the answer.
“I uh... started a communication with... um… your mother.”
Spock opened his jaw to speak, then quite unable to find any words that would adequately express the idea that he wanted to communicate, shut it again with a small ‘pop’.
“I didn’t do it to embarrass you! Or anything else really; I just didn’t want to do something . . . culturally insensitive. I told her that I was doing research for a xenobiology project.” Her lips quirked. “And I was, just not one that I ever got graded on.”
Suddenly a number of queries within the Academy correspondence between him and his mother made much more sense. For a moment he imagined her face as she read his letter, telling her offhandedly about Nyota. Her amusement barely kept in check when she smiled, the impish twist of her lips, her brown eyes fairly dancing with suppressed mirth while she read both Nyota’s and his messages. As he did, he found that for the first time in just over a standard year he could picture his mother in some way other than at the moment of her death.
Nyota cleared her throat; face softening as she touched his forearm. “Anyway, so yes. I understand what a bond is. But not why you would break such a… gift.”
The timbre of Spock’s voice was roughened when he answered, “Jim said much while we were linked. He was most clear on the point: he did not want anyone in his head.”
Nyota looked furious again. “That, that, insensitive, idiotic… bastard!”
Something twanged in the vicinity of Spock’s heart when he heard her words. “I am quite certain that Jim’s parents had indeed been legally joined in the state of matrimony prior to his birth. It is also… I did not…” It was Spock’s turn to break her gaze and stare at the table. “I did not tell him of the bond. There was no need, as his feelings were quite clear.”
Spock had been looking away from Nyota, and therefore was absolutely astounded when he felt the sharp sting of her hand on his shoulder.
“Did you just strike me?”
“You were in Jim’s head? After he was kidnapped? We don’t need the specifics Spock; his crew had a pretty good idea what happened to him on that damn ship. So after he is reeling from… that…and you… you didn’t even tell him?!”
Really, his hearing was far superior to that of a human’s. Spock felt it was highly unnecessary for Nyota’s tone to reach quite that high a decibel level.
Her arms were once again crossed in front of her, only this time her glare was even more pronounced. “I have never heard of a bond being broken before. Are you blaming your little man-tantrum on that?”
Spock blinked. There was no reason for rudeness. He opened his mouth to answer her, but she shook her head.
“Never mind. Just get on with the story. What does that have to do with you stalking back into here like a particularly grouchy ten-year-old?”
“I have felt residual effects from the bond’s destruction. I can often sense Jim’s emotions when he is feeling something particularly strongly.”
Nyota raised an eyebrow, just staring at him. Spock was beginning to understand how annoying that particular expression was to others when he used it. “A ‘residual effect’, huh?”
“Indeed. I felt Jim when he got the first message. He had what Dr. McCoy referred to as a ‘panic attack’ by whatever was sent to him. Similarly, I have been assisting with discovering who had put Jim on that ship in the first place. But the captain, who clearly has no respect for his own safety, then announced that the crew of the Enterprise would be allowed to go on shore leave. I desired to find the captain and explain the folly of allowing this without knowing the identity of his attacker.”
She spoke fast. “How is it logical that you can feel a nonexistent bond? If there is no connection, then how do you explain what you were picking up from the captain?”
Spock, who was fully capable of thinking on a number of subjects at once, found his brain slide to a complete halt. That was it, the question he had been skirting around for several days. How could he detect something that should not, could not, be there? Several things slid into place at once. He remembered his counterpart’s disappointment that he would ask for his bond to be broken. He remembered the way his counterpart had casually insisted on being the one to do the ‘breaking’. How he had put Spock into a deep sleep before roaming Spock’s unprotected mind.
He was aware that his face must have communicated complete and utter shock by the accompanying gentle, pitying expression on Nyota’s face. Before she could speak, their computer console beeped.
Automatically, they both looked at the readout. The computer had narrowed down the names of the crewmembers that had not been on duty or observed by another crew member, with those who met the physical requirements. Nyota had also cross-referenced the list with those who had shown a particular affinity for computers, based on information from their personnel files. The list now had five names on it. At the top, with a 76.9 probability, was Yeoman Lenore Karidian.
“Computer. Is Yeoman Karidian aboard the ship?”
“Affirmative. Yeoman Karidian beamed aboard the ship eleven-point-six minutes ago.”
Spock started to rise, almost not feeling the restraining hand Nyota had put on his shoulder. “Wait. Wait, Spock.”
“What is the logic in waiting?”
Nyota’s hand tightened on his arm. “How can you be certain that it was her? Not to be rude or anything, but you can’t just go in there without some sort of plan. Right now she has no idea that we suspect-“
Spock interrupted. “I do not care for the way she stares at the captain. She had access to his personal belongings. The computer’s findings only confirmed my suspicion. Please stand aside.”
“Just- wait a second!”
Spock jerked his hand out of her grip and pivoted, tapping a wall console as he did so. “Commander Spock to the bridge. Please raise the shields to their full capacity, and lock down all transporter pads to unlock to my voice command only. Do not activate the ship-wide alert system.”
“Uh...understood, sir.”
Spock was already striding down the corridor, Nyota trailing after him. “Wait, Spock! Please!” She sounded so desperate that he stopped, turning to her. “You just can’t go barging in there,” she repeated. “Not alone!”
“Computer, locate Yeoman Karidian.”
“Yeoman Karidian is in her quarters.”
“Location of Yeoman Karidian’s quarters?”
“Yeoman Karidian is located on deck fourteen, berth 27-A.” Nyota nodded at him and they strode to the turbolift. It whooshed open.
“Computer, is the Yeoman alone in her quarters?”
“Affirmative.”
Nyota spoke as the doors shut behind them. “Computer. Is Captain Kirk on board the Enterprise?”
“Negative. Captain Kirk disembarked two hours and twenty-three minutes ago to the surface of Wrigley.”
Spock thought that every muscle in his body, save his pounding heart, froze for a moment before dismissing the illogical hyperbole. Part of him wanted to go to the transporter room immediately, while the other part of him knew it was logical to interrogate Karidian first. He felt Nyota’s hand on his forearm and looked down, having quite forgotten for a moment that he was not alone in the lift.
“We’ll get information from her. You can have a security team start to look for the captain.”
The rest of the lift ride was made in silence while Spock quickly weighed the pros and cons. Spock waited until they were close to the Yeoman’s quarters before summoning Security. “Commander Spock to Security Chief Georges. Security team A is to beam down and start a planet-wide search for Captain Kirk.” He also ordered the bridge to unlock the transporters so the team could beam down. “Security team B to Yeoman Karidian’s quarters. Remain outside while I speak with the Yeoman.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Spock strode to the door and entered his override. The doors whooshed open, and he quickly stepped in with Nyota behind him. The woman inside whirled and gave a little scream, eyes darting between himself and Nyota. She had a number of items clutched in her hands. It was clear that she was packing her personal belongings. She began to laugh, setting the items on the bed.
“I suppose, as they say, the jig is up.” She moved her hands so that they were visible. “Father would laugh to know that I got caught for sentimentality. But I couldn’t leave my little trinkets, now could I?”
Spock, against his better judgment, glanced at the items on the bed. A stained, ripped gold Command uniform shirt. A hairbrush. A framed picture of the same car, one beautiful and shining in the sun and the other destroyed. A broken communicator. Spock heard a low growl, and only realized it was coming from him when Nyota looked away from Karidian for a brief moment. She took a step closer to the other woman. Away from Spock.
Spock fought to get control of his emotions. He had never quite understood the idiom ‘seeing red with rage’ until just that moment. He had the urge to rip, to tear, to destroy. Even when fighting Jim on the bridge, his emotions had not been stripped quite this raw. Then, he had reacted without thinking. Now, he struggled to keep his hands at his sides and not wrap them around this human woman’s throat.
“Where is Captain Kirk?” Nyota’s voice was cold.
The tittering laugh again, high and girlish. Karidian smirked at Spock, ignoring Nyota as though she were not there. “Your captain. My father was most displeased when I told him of your heroic rescue. He was quite fur—i--ous.” She laughed again. "Come what come may…. Time and the hour runs through the roughest day,” she sing-songed, delighted with herself. “He has his prize now. Only two left. From five to two, five to two…” her voice trailed off as Spock turned back to the bed, scooping up the items with a smooth movement. He desperately needed to have his hands occupied right now.
“Where did you leave Jim?” Spock spoke tightly. This was an illogical waste of time. Clearly the woman would not tell him. He was loathe to connect his mind to this woman’s in any way, but would do it if he must, Starfleet regulations be damned.
“That’s for me to know, and you to find out, silly!” The tone of her voice changed again. “Those are my things.” Her voice dropped into a hiss. “You will never find him. My father will take him take-him-take-him, bathe in the sweat from his body, in his blood and his seed and you …will... nevernevernever…”
“You Bitch!” Spock turned just in time to see Nyota’s fist connect with the insane woman’s jaw, sending her collapsing to the floor, unconscious. She turned, taking a step towards Spock, flexing her fingers a couple of times before placing her hands on his shoulders. He could feel her worry and fear. It hit him with an almost physical jolt, and he stepped back, clutching Jim’s uniform in his hand. His control was imperfect and the kick of her emotive state was stark. “You have to relax. Calm down, Spock. You found Jim once, and you can do it again. You said he’s in your head.” She actually tried to shake him. “Well use your head, damnit!”
Spock’s eyes closed. He reached out...
…and nothing. No feeling of ‘Jim’ whatsoever. He jerked away from Nyota and stepped through the doors, stalking towards the turbo lift without a word. He could feel a muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. Vaguely he could hear her giving orders to the security team stationed out Karidian’s door. He entered the lift.
“Deck seven.” Spock’s attention was so focused inward that he arrived in the transporter room before he knew it. Why couldn’t he feel Jim? It was like there was a wall—
A wall. Of course. He had been so furious at Jim while riding in the turbolift that he had shielded against him. “Beam me to Captain Kirk and Yeoman Karidian’s last known location.” Logically, if she had destroyed Jim’s transporter, she would have done so before moving him to avoid detection. He strode up to the pad and turned, tearing down his mental shields as he felt the pushpull of the transporter, and reappeared outside of a crowded bar. As on the ship, Spock was walking towards the bartender without even being fully aware that he was moving.
“I require information. A Human man in a Starfleet uniform- captain’s stripes, blue eyes- was here approximately two and one half standard hours ago. He was likely sitting with a human female out of uniform. Blonde hair.”
There was a chittering sound and Universal Translator translated the bartender’s words into Standard. “Yes. I remember her. She was a big tipper, she was. Loves the Lotus rum. Ordered enough to …” The translator even translated the being’s chuckle. “Heh heh heh, have herself a nice night with the man you described.”
Spock’s eye twitched. Orion Lotus rum had almost become a banned item for its high alcohol content with a fairly powerful aphrodisiac. He looked around at the patrons of the establishment. There was such a mix of different beings in the small dim space that Spock found it difficult to maintain his shields against the insistent pull of emotion. He had just begun to reinforce his mental shields when he felt a slight shiver inside his head; then- an overwhelming wave of abhorrence/want/terror/disgust/fear--
Spock stumbled, thrown completely off-balance by the strength of the mental surge. He leaned against the bar, breathing heavily, hands curled into the wooden surface so strongly that the metal reinforcements groaned. Jim. Frantic- despondent-.
kill-you-kill-MYSELF-ohnoineedaway-away-oh-god-oh-nonoNO
For what felt like hours, but logically could only be seconds, Spock literally couldn’t separate his own sense of self from the pulsating wave of Jim’s emotional turmoil. There was so much, so very many nuances of panic there that Spock’s mind reeled. As though he were far out of his own body, he realized that the bartender had cocked an eyestalk his way and was waving it concernedly. The universal translator was indicating that the bartender was asking him something, but Spock found himself afraid to let go of the surface that he grasped. It gave another ominous creak. Spock felt a sharp jab of pain as a large splinter sliced the flesh of his palm.
He took a deep, shuddering breath. Strangely, the pain from the splinter caused his mind to focus. Dimly, he was able to nod to the bartender.
“Jim--” Spock could only do the equivalent of a mental gasp. He was aware of an almost incapacitating nausea coming from his human, laced underneath with the furious heat of… lust?
Through the bond, Spock could feel Jim’s utter shock, and then the wave of relief crashed over him with almost the same fervor as the fear, making his knees weak. Spock collapsed against the bar again.
Tentative, as though worried it wasn’t true- ‘Spock?’ Then, ‘Spock please you have to help he’s here it’s Him and he--- ‘
‘You must calm yourself, Jim. I will come for you. But you must …’
‘Please-I-pleasehurryhe-‘ The mental feeling of a deep breath. The wave of bright, excruciating emotion receded somewhat. ‘It’s… Kodos. He has me. He…’
‘He will not have you for long. I am coming, Jim.’
Spock took another steadying breath and opened his eyes. The bartender was helping another customer, but the eyestalk was still turned Spock’s way. Spock let go of the bar’s surface and flexed his fingers. The cut on his palm stung as the air hit the green blood that had welled up from the small wound.
There was no time. Spock knew he must work fast if he were to find Jim quickly. He shut his eyes, picturing the bond that he remembered from Jim’s head. It was still sick-looking, although more solid than before. The knowledge of what to do was just suddenly there, and with a muttered curse he could see the bond’s aura when he closed his eyes. When they opened, it was as though he could still intuit where the bond was. It stretched, almost gossamer thin. Faintly, Spock could feel Jim at the end of it. He spun on his heel and was off, doing his best not to think too hard about the pulsating emotions that Jim was still feeling. Spock followed the bond, around corners and through alleyways. He didn’t anticipate it being all that far away. The yeoman would have had to incapacitate Jim and get him to the rendezvous point for her father.
The yeoman. Spock walked faster, almost jogging now, furious with himself. He had not wanted to identify the emotions that had taken over his thoughts. He could still remember what he felt watching her touch his captain’s bedspread-why had that one thing replayed over and over in his brain?- what he felt remembering it afterwards; how no amount of meditation had claimed his thoughts. He had over-thought his own illogical behavior, not seeing what was, to use a Standard colloquialism, right in front of his eyes. Spock had been certain that his thinking of her as a suspect had been driven by his irrationality, and had ignored his instincts.
Illogical behavior still ruled him. Starfleet regulations dictated that he inform the security team of his whereabouts, but Spock did not care for the idea of others seeing Jim, (his bondmate!) in such a state. The emotions he was still feeling were growing stronger as he got closer to his destination.
hate/disgust/lust/terror
The lust was stronger. Clearly the drink had started to take effect, beginning to edge out some of Jim’s stronger emotions.
Spock was in a run-down, dilapidated area of the city. He came to a stop, surveying the area, knowing that Jim was close. Spock took off his outer Starfleet tunic. If Kodos had posted guards, then seeing one lone Starfleet officer running pell-mell for the area would likely set off alarms, even with the substandard intelligence taken into account with whomever he had hired. He stashed it in a crate, hidden behind what smelled like a garbage receptacle of some sort, and slowly made his way around the corner.
From the front, there were no discernable signs that anyone was being held hostage. It looked innocuous enough, one building in the many other commercial buildings in the area. Perhaps some sort of warehouse? Spock listened carefully, but could not hear any signs of movement. There were two bright floodlights that shone down onto the front door of the building, and Spock could clearly see the recording device scanning the perimeter. That was logical. In a neighborhood such as this, posting many guards would fairly scream to the locals that you were protecting something valuable.
He paused again, impatiently, having to build even more shields between him and Jim so that he could function. It was becoming more and more difficult. Spock needed to be in there, now. It was child’s play to use the fence to access the window on the second story. Spock hunched his long neck as far down as he could so that the paleness of his skin wouldn’t be as obvious as he climbed the wall and hoisted himself up. His black uniform and hair rendered him practically invisible. Spock quickly broke the glass, and stepped inside the building. It was dead quiet. Continuing to listen for sounds that he had been discovered, Spock followed the bond down into the basement.
He walked slowly, making not a sound. Two of the doors were locked and easily hacked into opening. When he saw the third door, the bond gave a particularly solid movement as though settling into place, sending Spock reeling. He could hear a noise through the thin composite of the door.
It sounded like a wounded animal.
Spock saw red.
Something was roaring, the sound echoing off the walls of the small hallway. A hideous screech of metal being pried open and then he was inside.
Jim lay on the bed, turned over onto his side. He was wearing his Starfleet trousers and nothing else. The top part of his uniform lay in tatters around his torso. Spock could smell blood, Human blood, Jim’s blood over the sharp scent of fear and the musky odor of semen. His vision tunneled onto Jim’s form, as he writhed on the stained mattress. He could see one eye, the bright blue of his gaze boring into him before he was rushing towards the bed. There was a scream of sound, and Spock felt something whiz by his cheekbone and clank against the wall. A knife. He turned his head.
The man standing there in the bathroom slammed the door shut after throwing the dagger, cutting his terrified face off from Spock.
For a split second he was torn. Go to Jim? Go to Kodos? It wasn’t much of a decision. Spock was at Jim’s side in an instant, yanking on the bindings that kept Jim lying on the filthy mattress. He heard glass crashing from far off. No matter. The universe was not big enough to hide that man from his wrath.
Spock found that tremors in his hands were keeping him from efficiently untying the captain from his bonds. Blood from a small wound near Jim’s neck had spilled down his torso, making the ropes slippery. Jim turned his head, and Spock could see it: a perfectly formed circle of teeth marks in the meat of Jim’s shoulder. He froze, unprepared for the onslaught of possessiveness he felt upon seeing that someone else had marked his mate.
“Spock….” Jim’s voice, broken. Terrified.
Spock leaned forward, and very gently licked at the bite mark.
Which, upon later reflection might have been a mistake.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2010-03-28 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-03-28 02:28 pm (UTC)I'm curious for more. :-D
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Date: 2010-03-28 09:07 pm (UTC)*pets*
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Date: 2010-03-28 09:08 pm (UTC)SPOKENTYPED!haha! I am in the same camp. Well, yeah so you could probably tell that hehe.
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Date: 2010-03-28 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-28 09:09 pm (UTC)**brain explodes from the squee**
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Date: 2010-03-29 12:12 am (UTC)No not a mistake. Spock needs to fix it and he will. I hope he pops Kodos' head off like a shrimp.
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Date: 2010-04-08 04:14 pm (UTC)Spoke strode to the door and entered his override.
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Date: 2010-04-08 06:22 pm (UTC)Thanks BB! :)
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Date: 2010-03-30 05:29 am (UTC)WOOT! Go Spock!
I hope the gentle lick was a good thing...
<:/
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Date: 2011-02-21 09:29 pm (UTC)