Archive of Our Own

The annual migration of cow-fishes had left the water in an indescribable turmoil of sand and mud. Pulverized coral, shrimps skeletons and algae seeds, drifting along with the crazy currents, conspired to blur the two divers’ vision.

From time to time, a bunch of latecomers would burst out of nowhere, hurrying to catch up with the others, their thin tails wiggling ridiculously behind their fat swollen bodies. They would just as quickly vanish in the dark folds of the ocean, like they had suddenly been grabbed by a gigantic malevolent hand.

Carefully readjusting the breathing membrane on his face, Spock glanced with resignation at Néréo, the tiny sun that seemed to drown into a liquid sky. Its ominous, anaemic light failed to provide any heat and both men would have frozen to death without their neoteluran suits.

A sizzle in the earplug preceded the Captain’s annoyed voice. Although he was swimming only a few meters ahead of his first officer, he remained almost invisible, even for Vulcan eyes.

“Remind me Mister Spock, why did we choose to beam down in the water?”

“Because, captain, New-Tethys is almost entirely covered by oceans and its rare islands are well-known to crawl with particularly hostile and vicious creatures.

“Hm. And what do we know about the oceanic fauna?”

“Very few, Captain, since these abysses are so deep, no device ever succeeded into completely scanning them. However... between a certain danger and a possible one, the logical choice...”

“Yeah, sure, spare me, please...I’m just... really uncomfortable here, basically I hate it here! It brings back the memory of this nightmarish mission on Argo. At some point I thought I would never breathe air again...” (He coughed twice in order to reinsure his quivering voice) “Could we not have sent a probe or at least embarked an aqua-shuttle? We could have used the heat and the sonar system. What’s the point into crawling in the silt, we can’t see a thing!”

“Maybe you would know the answer if you had paid attention to my explanations instead of ogling at your new yeoman’s legs...Sir.”

“What’s that Spock? Jealousy?”

The sarcastic smile in Kirk’s reply was obvious.

Spock would have shrugged if his heavy equipment had allowed him. He raised a contemptuous eyebrow instead, although no one could’ve seen it. Reaching up to bring the scanner’s sensor into contact with the downside of the riff, he started to survey the rock through its thick coat of sticky moss. Fireworks of tiny new-born crabs sprang from every crack, flailing their translucent eyes and legs in protest.

“This planet is at the edge of a Klingon territory”, Spock explained. “They’ve considered it garbage, until now. They yet keep it under close surveillance. We don’t want to draw attention. Any sign of technological activity could alert them and make them aware of the dilithium embedded in the rock’s cavities.”

“So it is? Dilithium?”

“Affirmative, Captain. In gaseous form, mostly, but I suspect the very core of these iced islands to conceal significant crystals deposits.”

“If so... how could we extract it without giving us away? And what about these creatures you’ve mentioned? And the fishes? The sun here provides no energy at all, the algae probably feed on the dilithium emanations.”

“You really haven’t heard a word of my latest presentation, have you?”

“You’re all wrong, Spock, I can swear to you I have no interest into that yeoman’s... legs.”(He switched to a more serious tone). “It’s ... I’m starting to wonder if we are allowed to just... walk off with what belongs to others and get away with it, just because they do not have weapons or cannot communicate with us. I mean... Are we any better than the Klingons?”

“Sir, I...”

Spock didn’t finish his sentence. Something had brushed against Kirk before hitting his companion. A fleeting and creepy something, a quicksilverish shadow that had already found shelter in the haze of the depths.

“Spock!” the captain yelled, “Spock where are you, are you all right?”

“...”

“Spock! SPOCK! FUCK, SPOCK, ANSWER ME!”

The captain kept looking around, swimming inefficiently in every possible direction, wrapping himself in a cloud of debris and dirt, soon unable to tell up from down. No sign of his first officer.

He swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the lump stuck in throat. He took a deep breath. No panic. It wouldn’t help. Never had. What to do? Call the enterprise. Yes.

He reached down to pluck his communicator out of his belt, which proved impossible with the thick gloves he was wearing. He got rid of them. The next minute, his fingers were too stiff to help in any way. Time was running. His heartbeats started to knock at his brain and his head became a living metronome ticking down every lost second.

Plan B. He had to manage by himself.

Think Jim. Think for God’s sake...

He spotted a faint light glittering nearby. It was the scanner. The one Spock had been using just a moment earlier. A crude version of current tricorders, but he would have to make do with it.

Kirk swam towards it. No Spock around, but he wasn’t expecting so. He knew what to do. What he shouldn’t do, but would do anyway.

The control buttons were huge. He switched them to full blast. Now if any Klingon patrol was looking in that direction...

There... he focused the scanning beam on a slowly fading glow... No doubt. A living being with hot blood. Let’s hope green blood.

Kirk dove down, following the scanner’s indications.

A merciless frost bit his fingers, devoured his arms muscles, fibber after fibber. His heart started to pump liquid ice, feeding his tetanised limbs a numbing pain. But he had to swim even harder. As he dove deeper, acid reflux burnt his throat. The growing pressure tore off his eardrums and his throbbing eyeballs threatened to burst out of their sockets. A red veil fell before him. He snorted in a desperate attempt to remain conscious.

Spock appeared in his vision field. Kirk’s heart sank. The current was tossing the Vulcan around like a rag doll. Was he injured? Couldn’t tell. Kirk grabbed his first officer with his frozen hands and summoned his last strengths to fight the dreadful lethargy that crept up on him.

What if he’s dead? A perfidious voice in his mind asked while he was struggling to reach the surface. You’re not even sure you’re gonna make it yourself. Is this a logical choice?

Oh, shut up Spock, you daren’t die on me! Or I’ll get McCoy to resurrect you for the sole pleasure of killing you myself!

The sun was drawing closer and closer. It even seemed like some warmth was seeping from it.

It was then that the second attack occurred.

Coming from below, something charged in a swirl of bubbles and shimmering fishes. It was huge, and using the darkness as an extension of its own body. It seemed to be here, and here, and there, surrounding them, lurking from every blind spot, impossible to grasp for a two-eyed creature. Its colossal membranous fins were stirring the muddy water, imprisoning and crushing its two victims in an irresistible vortex. When a tentacle grasped his leg, all the captain managed to discern was a long package of massive muscles undulating under a scaly metallic skin. It slowly but inexorably wrapped itself around the ischemic limb, dragging the two men down.

Kirk slang the scanner across his shoulder, fisted his free hand and brought it down on the tentacle in a grotesque pathetic move. He squeezed his companion tighter and reached down in search of his phaser. Alas, by the time he laid hand on the weapon, the creature had already embraced his chest and arms thereby reducing him to complete powerlessness.

Kirk surrendered. He couldn’t defend himself while carrying his first officer. And he couldn’t escape either.

Well I guess this is it Mister Spock. One last wish?

He gazed down towards the shadowy mass that was pulling them closer. He felt his stomach rise, and prayed not to throw up in his mask. A vast throat spiked with plural rows of knife-like fangs invaded his vision. Half a dozen black sticky tongues were eagerly stretching upwards. He closed his eyes, grateful that Spock did not have to face that. But just when he thought the monstrous creature was going to rip them apart, it suddenly drew back, loosened its grip and let go off them.

Intrigued, the Captain strained his eyes to scrutinize the bottomless abysses. It seemed an even bigger predator had just harpooned and snatched the monster off. Kirk nodded. Between a certain danger and a possible one...never trust logic, that’s what I’ve learned today.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Breathing heavily through the thin membrane, Kirk hauled his first officer up onto the ground before levering himself out of the water. He turned his torch on and pointed the light beam at the carved rock face. They were not quite at the surface. The place looked like some wide cave with no obvious issue but the water. This was just as well.

He sat next to Spock’s body, a little afraid to check it up. The Vulcan’s suit had been torn, unveiling a gruesome wound that stretched all along his right side down to his hip and oozed a sickening greenish serum. He didn’t seem to breathe at all. His respiratory device was yet still at its rightful place and properly working according to its pink colour.

Kirk seized his officer’s shoulders and shook them gently at first, then violently, with no effect whatsoever.

If only McCoy was there...

He grabbed his communicator.

“Kirk to enterprise. Kirk to enterprise.”

“Captain.”

Uhura’s voice, as warm as Earth’s sunlight. It was a balm.

“Lieutenant! Have us beamed up immediately.”

“Sir, I think we may have a problem.”

“What are you talking about? Beam us aboard at once! Spock is dying!”

“I’m sorry captain, I...”

“Captain? Mister Scott here.”

“Scotty, what the hell is going on?”

“We’ve been attacked, sir, a Klingon patrol. I have no idea what it was doing in this area sir. And I can’t figure how they spotted us. We were holding the planet between us and their usual patrol sector. We remained all the time in an asteroid’s shadow. Something must have given us away. We managed to get them, but most decks report considerable fire casualties and we’re now on back up power generator.”

Kirk swallowed painfully.

“Tell me you can fix this.”

“Oh it’s no big deal, Captain, but it will take time.”

“How much?” Kirk grumbled.

“I think about five, maybe six hours sir.”

“We do not have that, Scotty. Spock here is dying. Make it two.”

“I can’t work any faster, Captain, I might even extend the damages.”

“All right Mister Scott, we’ll wait... Uhura?”

“Yes Captain,”

“Put Doctor McCoy through.”

“Captain, he is performing a highly complex surgery. Many members of the crew have been badly inj...”

“What is it with you today?” Kirk growled. “Will you question every order I give? Now! Lieutenant if you wish to keep your position on board!”

“Aye, Captain.”

An intolerable silence. Longer than several eternities. Then, McCoy’s voice. Roaring.

“Jim, I gave orders...”

“Bones... It’s Spock”

“What happened?” the doctor asked, softened.

Kirk sighed deeply, his frostbitten fingers massaging his forehead.

“I... I’m not sure... we were checking the rocks, taking samples... next thing I know, some... animal, creature... something hit him, yanked him away... Now he’s lying here, with... this... cut on his flank, hardly breathing if breathing at all.”

“Which flank, Jim?”

“What?”

“Which side of his body?”

“Right. The right side. Is this good or bad?” Kirk asked in panic.

“Not good Jim, not good at all. I’m a doctor, not a xenobiologist, but I dread his heart must have been damaged.”

“What? There?”

“Remember he’s a Vulcan, their internal anatomy differ from ours. It could kill him Jim. You should both beam up on board without delay. I’ll try and contact a Vulcan colleague...”

“I just talked to Scotty, no beaming before five hours or more. What can I do?”

Another silence. Kirk took a peek at the body beside him. It was pale as death. Or was it its usual colour?

His voice was waving when he murmured.

“Bones?”

“I do not have a clue... let’s check his pulse.”

“How?”

“Plant two fingers in his knee pit. Can you feel anything? It may take a while, their rhythm is basically much slower than ours.”

Kirk complied, pressed hard, waiting fervently for something to happen. Eventually, a beat. A faint, barely noticeable one. But it was there.

“He’s alive.”

“Ok, try and find something to press on the cut. A cloth or... anything!”

Kirk pulled his suit trousers off and wound the legs around his first officer’s abdomen. Slamming teeth uncontrollably, he then pulled his shirt over and rolled it up before shoving it between the improvised bandage and the gruesome gash.

“Done. What now? Is he... going into some... How does he call it, healing trance?”

“I’m afraid not, Jim. The Vulcan physiology is not meant for low temperatures Vulcan’s self-healing capacities require some sine qua none conditions among which is a temperature beyond fifteen degrees or so. The cold is definitely his worse enemy. Therefore, from now on, all you can do is keep him warm.”

“Oh, just that?” Kirk hissed. “Really? Do I have to remember you where we are?”

“I’m sorry Jim, I can’t think of anything else. I’ve been interrogating the computer and no solution came out. You have to do your utmost to keep him warm until we manage to beam you both over. Look I know how you must feel, I've been there, I’ve done that for you once, when you were poisoned by the mugato, I used my phaser to light the rocks around you. Results won’t be quite the same...”

“Thanks Bones. Kirk out.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The captain glanced around. The cave was covered in a wet dripping moss bristling with sharp stalactites and the cold raised spectral curls of mist from the surface of the water. It was not going to be easy.

First, he did as the Doctor advised, and phasered the walls until they became incandescent. The temperature increased noticeably but it wouldn’t last unless he used great amounts of energy to maintain it. At present rate, both phasers would probably be completely drained within three hours at most. Three hours forty two minutes and seven and a half seconds, Spock would have likely corrected.

As steadily as possible, he ran a full check of their life-support belts. Food. A lot of highly energetic food. Not really helpful right now... emergency drugs, meant for human beings of course... A lot of useless stuff... Also a tiny plastic bag containing a foil blanket. He carefully unfolded the metallic fabric and wrapped it around his frozen first officer.

He sat down nearby, rubbing his shaking arms. The merciless cold was sticking ice thorns under his blue skin. He stared at the Vulcan’s face, frustrated by his own helplessness. It was not enough. These blankets were supposed to save heat but Spock was not uttering any.

There must be som...

He gathered up some of the candies that had fallen from his belt. Highly energetic food. He feverishly unwrapped one and swallowed it, then picked up another one. And another. Soon, he had bolted them all, and was literally radiating. This glimpse of hope brought a smile on his face. That was the way.

He hastily stripped off his own tights and undressed his patient. Spock’s skin was all swollen and violet and somewhat... crispy. He looked so... fragile, so... vulnerable... him! So powerful a creature...

Kirk reapplied the bandage with even more tension. Thereupon he lied back, embraced his friend and drew his obedient head to his own chest before cocooning themselves in the blanket. Slowly but undeniably, the body in his arms warmed up. His mind wandering, the captain muttered:

“Come on, Spock! We’ve been in smellier shit! Don’t you play the drama queen with me now...”(His voice broke :) “My friend, don’t leave me, you have no right to. I won’t allow you to. Can you hear me? I won’t allow it.”

He checked the Vulcan’s face, brushing the wet silky black hair away from his forehead. Despite his condition, his alien features still emanated high nobility along with some... undeniable... beauty? Kirk noticed for the first time that the brow, ear and jaw lines were perfect parallels, that the skin’s texture was flawless, that the lips were just as full as a ripe fruit. He placed a lock behind one of the pointy ears but the incredibly long lashes remained still. Spock wouldn’t wake up. He just wouldn’t wake up. Hopefully he was achieving healing trance by now...

Desperately, Kirk squeezed his friend, pressed against him, massaged firmly his back, rubbed him all over, not knowing what he was doing, but determined to help in any possible way.

“Spock,” he whispered, his voice shivering with anguish, “don’t laugh at me, there’s... something I’ve been dying to say to you... I never imagined I would have the gall. I’m not sure it’ll come out right... but I can’t think of any better moment... just... don’t laugh...”

His voice lowered again, almost to silence while the words fought their way out of his mouth. Spock shuddered.

This is when the pain pierced the Captain’s nape and made him pass out.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Captain, Captain!”

Eyes tight shut, Kirk turned around groaning.

“Captain!” The voice bugged him again, while an iron hand churned his shoulder.

Kirk finally laid back and opened narrow eyelids.

Spock's face materialized out of a blur. As though electrified, the Captain sat bolt upright.

The Vulcan was crouched next to him, half naked, wearing no more than his underwear along with his legendary haughty attitude. His abdomen was free from any injury or even scar. What healing trance could do! Kirk frowned sceptically.

“Spock is that really you? Am I dreaming?”

“I truly believe that I am me Captain.”

Kirk grinned. No possible doubt, indeed. Heart filled with joy and gratitude, he grabbed his friend’s nape in a brotherly move, deep affection and relief painted all over his face.

Unruffled, Spock tilted his head back and gazed up to the ceiling.

“As regards the hypothesis that you might be dreaming, well... data remain inconclusive.”

Following his look, Kirk glanced up, then around, to discover that the incandescent cave had turned into a particularly uncanny -and beautiful- place. He stood up and approached one of the concave walls.

They seemed to have found shelter in some sort of huge, transparent, oblong-shaped craft, floating and drifting in a universe of dazzling stars and comets. Above their heads, intertwined constellations wrapped into iridescent gaseous veils performed a mesmerizing ballet which vibrating echoes shed opalescent draperies all around them. Unable to shift his gaze from the breathtaking spectacle, Kirk asked in a low fervent murmur:

“Explanation?”

“None, Captain.”

“Last time I checked, I was in a deserted cave, trying to help my first officer recover from a deadly wound. Now... ”

“A wound, Captain?”

Kirk sighed as he regretfully pulled his eyes away. Spock was now standing beside him, his hands tucked behind, his entire person emanating health and strength.

“Of course, you can’t remember... You were attacked by a sea creature, something beyond description, a biological aberration, if you ask me. Your heart was damaged... at least McCoy thought so... I had to keep you warm so that you could achieve healing trance.”

“I’m afraid Captain, I didn’t, despite your endeavours.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t? You had a deep cut, right here!” (He touched the Vulcan’s right flank) “I couldn’t imagine that... now, could I?”

Spock raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“Either you did, or something or someone else cured me. What you have to understand, is that healing trance is a state of very accurate consciousness where the mind is aware of every slight variation and reaction occurring inside its owner’s body. Which means... ”

Kirk acquiesced, his eyes again drawn to the amazing kaleidoscope of wonders that unfolded around them.

Their environment was yet noticeably changing. As they approached another transparent wall, a glittering darkness crept upon them. Kirk ran his finger across the now undulating surface. It proved sticky and slimy. He quickly withdrew his hand when something from outside protruded against his palm. He gingerly bent forward to scrutinize the apparent oblivion that stretched in front of him. He jumped in astonishment. Fishes. A dense school of fishes dive-bombing the elastic, malleable membranes separating them.

Kirk shot an I-need-answers-and-right-now look at his science officer.

“I’ve been awake for a while now, Captain, and although I can’t draw any credible conclusion, I can elaborate a few hypothesis, improbable as they may be.”

“Please, do Mister Spock, I’m all ears.”

“Well the scanner’s readings are somewhat inaccurate, but the gaseous structures that surround us seem to be assigned to very specific functions, such as providing energy or reorganizing matter. Among the unidentified objects gliding around us, I believe I recognized some... strongly evocative patterns, this one... for instance... ” (He pointed out to designate a snarl of throbbing phosphorescent ribbons.) “computes as a biological support for memory and thoughts.”

Kirk puffed himself up and frowned.

“You mean... a brain?”

“I believe I said that. And a highly sophisticated one.”

“Wait... I’m not sure I get it. Are you saying that we are... inside... a living being?”

For an answer, Spock lifted a foot to draw attention to the unusual constitution of the floor. It was made out of long stiff finger-like villi.

“Most creatures of the deep produce their own light out of biochemical reactions. It makes them an irresistible lure for potential preys. Further more the substance oozing from the walls is composed of water mixed up with some lipoid component resembling mucus. It would appear we have been abducted and are now trapped into a vacuole, or equivalent.”

The Captain couldn’t withhold anxiety in his voice when he asked.

“Like a ... food vacuole?”

“Insufficient data Captain. No digestive juice has been released so far. Besides, we’ve ran into other vesicles where captives appeared to be in perfect health condition.”

“You saw other people?”

“Not... Not people as you mean it. They were natives, creatures from the water or the surface. All alive, as far as I could tell although details proved difficult to discern.”

Kirk stretched his lips to a thin line.

“Not food then?”

“I don’t believe so. I fail to find a reason why our host would have healed me just to feast on me the next hour.”

“Storage food?”

Spock raised a puzzled brow.

“The job is very neat, Captain. It doesn’t seem logical to spend so much energy to fix dinner while a banquet awaits next door.”

“Who knows? Maybe we’re considered... some kind of... delicacy... Joking aside... it’s charming, and I’m forever grateful but... how do we get out of here?”

“Will you believe this question has been foremost in my mind?”

“And?”

“I still can’t come up with a satisfactory solution.”

Kirk checked their suits scattered here and there all over the organic floor.

“The communicators! Where are they?”

“One left Captain, here!” (Spock handed it over) But it’s not going to be of any help.”

“Scotty said he’d fix the power issues within a few hours, it should be done by now...”

“I was not aware of such issues Sir, I was unable to contact the ship.”

“Why ever not?” (Kirk activated the communication device.) “Kirk to Enterprise, Kirk to Enterprise, Enterprise do you read me? Respond! Enterprise!”

“It’s no use, Captain. Our host is behaving partly as a multicellular organism, and partly as a single cell. The outer envelope is likely to sustain a membrane potential which could interfere with our communicators signals.”

“Great! What about... Our phasers! Any reason why they wouldn’t work?”

“None Sir.”

“Then it’s easy! Let’s... can’t we... kill that thing?”

“I would venture strong reservations, Captain. Regardless of the fact that it is a sentient being, I feel compelled to point out the fact that we still know very few about its physiology. Death could trigger unexpected biochemical reactions, such as filling the vacuoles with proteolytic enzymes.”

Kirk grunted, a scowl twisting his face.

“Or it could set us free.”

“According to the scanner’s readings, we’re now approaching a depth of two thousand meters and still diving. We cannot make it to the surface by ourselves. Unless Mister Scott is presently searching this very area, which is highly implausible, we might have to wait in the frozen water for hours. Of course, you might stand a dim chance since your suit is still intact.”

“Ok, forget about it. Any other option?”

“There is still... communication, diplomacy and negotiations.”

“How?”

“CONGRATULATIONS INFERIOR BEINGS”

The Captain jumped.

“Spock? Did you hear this?”

“I did Captain.”

“BY CHOOSING A PEACEFUL APPROCH OVER HOSTILITY YOU HAVE EARNED THE RIGHT TO LIVE. AND SERVE MY GREAT PURPOSE.”

The captain and his first officer looked at each other in complete bewilderment.

“It’s talking with MY voice,” Kirk complained.

“I don’t think so, Captain, I don’t think it’s talking at all. It’s sending neurological wavefronts, it’s directly stimulating our brains.”

“Telepathy.”

“Is what I just said.”

“Who are you? Kirk asked out loud, stubbornly. And why do you keep us as prisoners?”

“NO PRISONNERS. GUESTS.”

“Which means... we’re free to go?”

“AFTER.”

“After what? We are intelligent beings. You cannot dispose of our lives as you please!”

“I CAN AND I WILL. I NEED. I SAVED ONE LIFE. YOU OWE.”

Kirk softened.

“What do you want from us?”

“IMMORTALITY.”

Spock burst in:

“Elaborate.”

“MATES. SEX. NEW LIFE.”

Kirk gasped.

“Wait a minute.” (He turned to Spock) “This is it? This creature is after... sex? With us?” (Lowering his voice like his thoughts had not been monitored) “Talking about a pervert!”

“NO PERVERSION. LIFE.”

Spock knotted his hands behind his back while taking a deep breath.

“There is something I did omit to mention. The creatures, the natives I saw... were couples, not necessarily from the same species, but obviously anatomically and sexually compatible. Most of them were...” (He cleared his throat) “having intercourse during the short time I spent observing them. I believe our host is attempting to survive and perpetuate its own race by interfering with other species reproduction system. Most... interesting, really...”

The Captain’s eyes widened like two saucers. His jaw fell. He roared:

“No. Way. This is sick! Let alone we are NOT compatible mates. We’re of the same gender! I mean... isn’t it obvious?”

“Our host does not seem to be equipped with sight structures. It’s therefore probably looking for mind or genetic matches and I’m not sure gender means anything in its pattern of thoughts.”

“BRIGHT INTELLIGENCE THAT ONE. YOU ARE PERFECT MATES. CLOSER THAN ANY BEFORE. USE YOUR BODIES AND MINDS. INTRODUCE PIECES OF GENETICAL MATTER IN NEW LIFE.”

“It doesn’t make sense! Kirk objected. None of us can carry new life!”

“YOUR ANATOMY IS NO SECRET. NOR OUT OF REACH.”

Kirk turned again toward his Science officer, his sagged face wracked by nervous tics.

“Spock, say something!”

“I don’t think It will take no for an answer Captain. Besides, it is only logical that such a fascinating reproductive system should evolve in a place where finding mates of your own species must prove next to impossible. They have to make do with whatever comes in reach.”

“Spock, you remember you’re on... my side, right?”

“Always, Captain! What could possibly make you doubt?”

“Nothing, just... checking...Well I suppose this explains that... these freaking things wandering around...”

Spock nodded. Kirk swallowed his own lips in search of the right argument.

“We do not wish... Sorry I speak on your behalf Spock... We do not wish to... have... intercourse with each other. Can you respect that?”

“WHY? I READ MINDS. YOU VERY CLOSE.”

“Friendship. Mere friendship.”

“LOVE.”

“No! Well maybe. Like... brothers!”

“LOVE THEN.”

Kirk opened his mouth but the words died in his throat. He pressed a palm on his forehead in a distressful gesture.

“You cannot force it upon us!”

“I CAN. BUT I WILL LET YOU THINK.”

Spock gazed at his Captain:

“It’s gone. It’s withdrawn from our minds.”

“For now... You really think it has such a power?”

“Unknown Captain but it would be a logical assumption.”

Kirk started to pace nervously across the vacuole. His whole body was shuddering out of fury and frustration.

“It brings back the memory of what happened with the Platonians...”

“I know.”

“I won’t withstand it Spock, it almost robbed me of my sanity the first time and I can’t begin to imagine what effect it had on you.”

“Nothing worth mentioning Captain. But I suspect Lieutenant Uhura and Miss Chapel to have suffered a great psychological trauma.”

“I can’t abide the idea, Spock. I couldn’t cope... I think I’d rather die... don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy having sex with... Wait that came out wrong, I mean...”

“I think I catch and share your drift Captain... But what we need now is a solution, a way out. And I may have just the idea.”

Kirk addressed a warm and grateful grin at his first officer. And science officer. And friend. And Brother.

“My hero...”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Knuckle-walking amongst the villi, Spock was using a phaser to meticulously fire electric shocks at them. Shy sparkles shed tiny blue lights between his fingers.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Kirk inquired, crouched near him.

“It is already Captain, I just need to grasp the right spindle.”

“Let me see if I got it right. Once we’re settled on it, it’s going to behave like a railroad and lead us to...what are we heading to?”

“One of these membrane structures.”

“Ionic filters.”

“The term is obviously inappropriate considering their size, but they would function just the same, sustaining the polarization of the membrane.”

Slowly but undeniably the vacuole was indeed moving through the cytoplasm. They came across another vesicle in which an eel and an aquatic spider were entangled in a spastic trance. Kirk swept the vision away.

“So by destroying it...”

“Temporarily inactivating it...”

“We would break through the magnetic field. What are the odds?”

“99.7 to one Sir.”

“Magnificent! Let’s do that! You know you remind me of that guy... in this twentieth century 2D show... what was his name? He kept putting himself in the weirdest jam, and he would always come up with some improbable... handiwork... He could build anything out of anything, like... I don’t know, make a bomb with a handkerchief and a package of bubble gum.”

“Hm. I mean no offense, Sir, but either you’re forgetting a few ingredients, or indeed was he outstandingly gifted.”

Kirk beamed at his friend. Genuine affection burst into his heart. The real miracle here was being able to smile when the situation was so critical. And only Spock had this effect on him.

As the main membrane approached, they could discern the huge cilia rowing in unison to convey the gigantic body. Some of them were longer, like tentacles. The creature could have used one of those to stun and capture its new guests...

It took several minutes to reach the colossal scalloped tunnel both ends of which were blossoming into giant petals. A gush of oily iridescent fluid sprang out at every synchronic pulse of the swollen multi-lipped mouths.

Spock led the vacuole to block the inner entrance. He then gestured at his Captain, inviting him to try to contact the ship.

“Kirk to Enterprise, do you read Enterprise?”

“...”

A faint hiss.

“Enterprise? Kirk here.”

“Scotty here, Captain.” Where are you? The readings are illegible and I can barely hear you.”

The words were indeed jumping from the communicator, already chopped up and scattered.

“Scotty, stand by and keep scanning this area. As soon as we are clear, have us beamed up. I repeat, keep scanning. Do you copy?”

A glug-glug noise answered.

“Scotty do you copy?”

Kirk settled anxious eyes on his Science officer.

“You think he heard me?”

But Spock was not listening to him. Chin lifted and eyes narrowed in a full awareness attitude, he seemed petrified. Seconds later, Kirk could hear it too. The low blood-chilling growl rising from the vibrating walls. It grew louder, swell to gross rumblings evoking monstrous bowel movements.

All of a sudden, a shock wave ran through their weak shelter, threatening to rip the biological fabric apart. The inhabitants of the vacuole were in the mean time catapulted against the walls which grew protective villi all over. Each new convulsion would yet propel them toward each other as deadly projectiles. The madness lasted and eternity. Then, gradually, the tremors spaced out before stopping altogether.

Kirk stood up massaging his sore shoulder. His legs felt like marshmallow. He brushed the slimy substance off his arms and hips, disgust wrinkling his face.

“What the hell was that?”

Spock jumped on his feet in a gracious feline leap.

“An expected side effect of disturbing the membrane potential. It’s called repolarisation.”

“Oh... expected... Mister Spock, I...”

“Forgive me to interrupt you Captain, our host keeps diving. If we are going to escape this place, it has to be now, otherwise Mister Scott might not be able to find us.”

“Yes of course,” the captain granted, “How do we do that?”

“I suggest we use the same method to fuse our vacuole membrane with the main one. I have no scientific demonstration to back up my conjectures, but I strongly believe it to be possible.”

“Hope,” Kirk smirked. “We humans call it hope. Proceed, Mister Spock.”

“YOU MAY NOT.”

“It’s back Captain.”

“I had figured, Spock. But our situation has slightly changed. Scotty’s awaiting.” (Kirk brandished his weapon.) “We mean you no harm. Set us free and we’ll consider this a big misunderstanding.”

“NO.”

“Spock, handphasers on narrow beam, we’re cutting our way through.”

“NO.”

“Your choice.”

Kirk set his thumb on the phaser's wheel but found himself unable to move further. Appalled and horrified, he watched his own fingers unfold until they dropped the weapon. Spock's phaser fell down the next second. The captain's neck cocked in a weird angle while his eyeballs stared at his first officer. His autonomous feet brought him close enough for their breaths to intertwine.

“NO CHOICE. CONTROL. RESISTANCE USELESS.”

Kirk couldn't utter a word but the distress in his eyes was a heart-wrench. Each muscle in his taut face was fasciculating in a vain struggle. A tiny artery on his temple started to flutter. Spock was obviously dealing with the same heavy-handed display of power. The Vulcan's head was gradually dipping, pulling the neck's tendons to the brink of rupture.

Their mouths brushed slightly. Kirk thought his stomach would jettison itself, but it too was under strict control. The contact became pressure and their lips clung while their eyelids slowly closed. The moist tender mucosa merged, allowing their tongues to meet. An electric shock marked the beginning of hostilities. The two belligerents started by assessing each others’ skills. Rubbing, tasting, feeling... Before entering the battle. And... engage! Fight! Harsher! Retreat! Rest. Back. Retaliate! Fiercer!

Minutes later, the kissers spread, panting, almost suffocating. Kirk, disfigured by a hideous mix of wrath and shame, thundered:

“You claim to be a superior being! And yet you use your power to molest us! What kind of morale is yours?”

“MORALE? YOU PLAN TO TAKE CRISTALS AWAY. WE STARVE.”

Kirk couldn’t reply. Guilt was nonetheless still weaker than anger. His damaged self-esteem made his blood boil.

“Why would you stop now? If this is what we deserve. Why not getting it over with?”

“I believe, Captain, it needs our cooperation on some level.”

“NOT INDISPENSABLE. PREFERABLE. BETTER FOR NEW LIFE TRANSPLANT.”

“You will not have it!” Kirk spilled, casting his entire acrimony in this yell.

“HAVE IT ALREADY. CONTROL CEASED WHEN LIPS TOUCHED.”

The captain bleached and staggered when the information reached his mind. He stammered:

“This...this is a lie! It’s imp...impossible.”

“...”

“It’s gone Captain.”

Kirk leaned back against the curved wall, dug the slime with his hands, seeking for a proof that all of this was but a dream. It alas felt more real than anything in his life. Spock turned his back and sat in criss-cross position, palms levitating.

“What are you doing?”

“Meditating.”

“Meditating? Now? Well I wish I could too.”

“I cannot teach you. I need to focus on tidying my mind.”

“Yes, this I can understand. After what we just endured.”

“I was not talking about that, Sir. I... hope... I can raise mental shields in order to block our host’s infringements.”

The captain came nearer and crouched next to his first officer.

“You can do that?”

“Unsure Captain but I shall do my utmost, if you let me...”

“By all means!”

Kirk stood back up and tangled his fists on his bottom while striding across the place. The villi under his feet were squeaking creepily. He peeked at the Vulcan’s serene face. At his exquisitely shaped lips. Contemplated them dreamingly. He snorted to chase the unbearable memory of the forced kiss. Its taste... its texture...

“Spock?”

“Captain?” the Vulcan replied with a thick disembodied voice, eyes three quarters closed.

“It was but a lie, wasn’t it?”

“What Captain?”

“That... this thing... released us from the beginning of the kiss.”

Spock lifted a weary brow, eventually opened heavy eyelids.

“Well thinking about it, I may have felt something. Like it was ebbing from our bodies and minds.”

The captain choked with indignation.

“You mean... You mean you knew we were free? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I was overwhelmed, I didn’t notice at the moment.”

“You... you... I can’t believe this! So... we... kissed out of our volition, that’s it!”

Spock sighed.

“I wouldn’t worry about that Sir, brains can be deceitful and unreliable once lured into a stereotyped pattern. We acted by reflex.”

Kirk acquiesced.

“Of course, it makes sense. Resume meditation, Spock. We do not want that to happen again.”

The Vulcan plunged back into contemplation while his Captain went on ruminating.

Spock had to be right. He was always right, wasn’t he? A mere reflex, that was all. The creature knew it would sway them... and it was working.

“Spock, we need to talk about it, we need to sort this out.”

This time, The Vulcan unfolded and stood up. His annoyance was tangible.

“Sir. Surely you realize we have more important and urgent matter to deal with.”

“I need to get to the bottom of this, Spock. I won’t be able to set my mind on anything else before we do.”

“I can think for both of us if necessary.”

“Kiss me.”

The Vulcan shrank.

“I beg you pardon, Sir.”

“You heard me.”

For several seconds, the two men quietly confronted each other. When it became obvious Kirk wouldn’t back off from his position, Spock raised both brows in ostentatious exasperation and entered his superior’s aura. Kirk swallowed painfully as his first officer’s face grew bigger, the black incandescent eyes burning with restrained irritation.

Their lips joined. After a brief moment, Kirk opened up, purposely. The Vulcan was rigid and cold, unwilling to make a single move. Kirk drew back with a bright smile. He boasted:

“Nothing, I felt absolutely nothing! What a relief!”

“Are you satisfied, Captain? I am allowed to return to mental practice?”

“Please!”

Spock spun on his heels, ready to sit back when Kirk hailed him again.

“And you?”

“Me, Captain?”

“What did you feel?”

The Vulcan was still turning his back, his expressions were out of reach.

“Same as you Captain.”

“Oh... perfect!”

In spite of himself, Kirk felt his smile go hollow. Somehow, the answer did not please him. No one had ever remained indifferent to his charms. It could not end like that!

He rashly walked up to his first officer, grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around before sticking both hands on his nape and stretching up to plant a brutal kiss on his lips. His victim shuddered.

But it was only when he withdrew, proud of himself, that Kirk realized what he had done. What risk he had taken. Fear and terror fluttered though his veins when he gazed up at the alien’s face. He had acted recklessly. And now he was in real danger. Spock’s eyes had gone wild. He looked like a blood-thirsty beast disturbed during meal. The Vulcan was a true force of nature. He could shatter the human with a sweep of his arm.

Instead, he plunged forward and prayed fiercely on the human’s lips. Savagely, he smashed them, chewed them, plucked the scared tongue and voraciously sucked it out. He feasted on it like he had been starving for centuries. Meanwhile, his feverish hands were kneading the captain’s back, crushing bones and muscles together.

“Spock,” Kirk belched between two harsh gasps, “you’re hurting me!”

Instantaneously, the Vulcan released his hold, ready to let go off him. But Kirk clutched onto his assailant.

“Don’t... Stop... Don’t stop!”

The grip tightened again snatching him to a crazy maelstrom of ardent hugs and tumultuous caresses. Kirk stripped off his pants to free his painful erection and offered it to his mate. But Spock wouldn’t touch it, he would not even acknowledge it.

The Vulcan lied down, his pants still on, and invited the human to join him. Kirk complied, dove down and covered the broad hairy chest with passionate kisses. After a while, Spock pushed him away gently and shoved him below himself. He captured the human’s wrists and tied them over his head in an iron fist. Then he gazed into his captain’s eyes with a conquering haughtiness.

Kirk reached for a kiss. Denied. Spock’s other hand blinded him. The merciless lover lowered his head and his blistering breath ran along the human’s neck, down to his gasping chest. It drifted to a nipple. Kirk lifted himself up, silently begging, praying, eventually moaning for a mouth or a tongue, or anything. Only the heat came. Flirting and teasing, naughty and mischievous. Spock freed his partner’s hands and eyes but went on imposing his own set of rules.

The dragonish breath resumed its course across the convulsing abdomen, reached the pubis where an engorged phallus was struggling, imprisoned in a net of throbbing vessels. The Vulcan unexpectedly froze. He drew back.

“You understand this is exactly what the creature is waiting for.”

Kirk rose up on one elbow, obviously out of his mind. Eyes overflowing with lust, he whispered.

“I don’t care. I want this.”

“It can wait...”

“No it can’t. I want this, Spock. Now.”

The Vulcan bent over and cupped hands under his lover’s chin. He kissed him deeply. Fervently. Kirk felt gooseflesh crawl down to his spine while a firm grip eventually looked after his demanding erection.

He frowned. If both Spock’s hands were presently holding his chin... then what was down there? He peeked, almost jerked away. There was this... thing... this massive muscular limb springing out of Spock’s pants, writhing and wrapping around its prey, rubbing up and down and pressing, and kneading, and massaging like the most experimented hand. His own organ was responding, vibrating like a violin chord, sending chills all over his belly. Kirk dropped his head backwards, vacuuming air between his clenched teeth.

“Let me... I want to touch it.”

“No.”

“Spock...”

The Vulcan sighed and crouched next to him.

The alien penis, if you could call it that, stood straight, glorious obelisk decorated with green pulsating hieroglyphs in bas-relief. Kirk reached out reverently and read the Braille, meanwhile scrutinizing Spock’s features to assess the results. He could have sworn that for a split second the demonic eyes had been perturbed.

The skin was so soft and so smooth it was a deliriously sensual experience only to brush it.

“I never suspected you had it in you.”

He bowed until his mouth came in contact with the colossal shaft. The sharp tip of his tongue started to retrace the sacred writings. Soon, the uncanny penis was glistening, covered in saliva mixed up with a sour pre cum seeping from its tiny pores.

“Be careful, Spock warned, it’s extremely sensitive. Much more than my fingers.”

The imposing cobra-like appendage was now wriggling under the repeated onslaughts, caught in a spastic dance, its broad hat flaring in rhythm. All of a sudden, it leaped forward. It would have coiled around Kirk’s neck if Spock had not held it back.

Heart quickening, the captain stared at the dreadful thing in awe, craving it even more.

“I can’t wait any longer.”

“Are you not scared?”

“I’m a captain of the Federation Starfleet. I’ve been trained not to fear anything... I’m terrified on a Klingon scale.”

“Maybe we should...”

The captain shushed his first officer with a dictatorial finger.

“Now, before I change my mind.”

“Turn over.”

Kirk hesitated, wondering if it wouldn’t have been less dangerous the other way around. Then he thought he had no idea what kind of surprise a Vulcan ass might hide. So he complied in silent resignation, anticipating the pain that would certainly come.

But Spock was not planning penetration yet. He leant over his mate and ran a pointed tongue up along his spine, slowly licking away the sweat that beaded there. The captain sank his teeth in his lower lip. He would not beg! Or maybe just a little.

“Spock, he moaned, Spock, please?”

The inflexible tongue reversed, still following the backbone, halting now and then to indulge in little bites.

“Please!”

“Patience...”

Spock had to pull the fleshy buttocks apart to discover the taut throbbing portal. It was so tight! He had to do something to prevent it from tearing. He reached up to collect some mucus from the nearest wall. It was the most slippery substance he had ever touched. He applied a generous amount of it on the threshold of the gateway before gingerly introducing a finger, and another, and another. Moving in and out and spreading them repeatedly to widen the passage. When his entire hand felt comfortable inside, he decided it was time. Kirk had not uttered a single complaint, nor had he attempted any evasive action, but his whitened fits clutching and squeezing the villi were eloquent enough witnesses.

“Brace yourself.”

“You mean you’re not there yet?”

“I shall be extra cautious.”

“Yes, do that...”

Spock pulled off his own underwear, lied on his right side and drew his lover to the same position until their sweat-lubricated bodies were perfectly slotted together. He lifted off the human’s thigh to clear the path. The invader warily approached the entrance.

With his right hand, Spock grabbed Kirk’s hair and forced him to strain his neck so they could kiss. The Vulcan’s saliva had a new flavour. Something between honey and cinnamon. His head spinning from this liquor, Kirk barely felt the pain.

He had however lost nothing. The circular muscles contracting along the huge shaft made a single penetration be worth a hundred. While it bit by bit worked its way in, each muscular ring would in turn dilate and excite the receptive sphincter.

A numbing pleasure assaulted Kirk’s legs. The intelligent tentacle was now pressing its bursting bulk against... What anatomical structure could provide such... bliss... his prostate... Spock was conscientiously stimulating that groove between the prostate lobes, making bolts of electricity whirl in the human’s belly.

Kirk opened his eyes, willing to drown himself in his lover’s. Around them, the scenery had shifted. Water was trickling outside the walls while a distant throbbing light made it appear to descend hastily. Droplets stuck all over the membrane scintillated like captive new-born stars. Their reflection in Spock’s eyes engendered universes out of the black holes. The human heart hurled itself against its ribcage.

Spock did not seem to be aware of the turmoil in his mate’s mind. His left hand was stroking Kirk’s testicles. He lightly pulled them down then pinched the thin wrinkled skin at the root of the penis. The human sucked in a breath as his back arched in reflex. Spock took hold of the virile member and had his thumb draw circles around the tip of the glans. After which his firm hand started to move up and down the ready-to-blast phallus, constantly increasing speed and pressure. The human penis grew longer and swelled again, pulsing in exact synchronisation with the one next door.

Kirk clawed at his mate’s buttocks to bury him deeper. A spasm in the captain’s lower belly alerted Spock on the imminent climax. Still holding on, the Vulcan brought his fist down on the human’s pubis and exerted a great firm pressure on it.

“What the hell are you doing? Kirk grumbled, I was about to come!”

Unmoved, the Vulcan resumed his ministries, slow, fast, faster, stop. Withhold. Adagio, allegro, presto, riposo. Again.

“Spock you’re killing me!”

In desperation, Kirk grabbed his lover’s forearm, hoping to thereby lead the dance. Wasted effort. Spock wouldn’t let go although overwhelming frustration was obviously pushing Kirk to the brink of madness.

“Let me in, the alien poured in the human’s ear.”

Even the breath around those words was a torture.

“I thought you were already. In.”

“Let me.”

Kirk did not understand. Either his lover was being cryptic, or his anesthetized brain was fooling around. Both ways he knew he had to surrender without conditions if he was to survive this hurricane.

“Whatever you want.”

Air flew from the human’s lungs. Somewhere in his abdomen, something was... happening. Something his senses had not been trained to recognize or tolerate. It was... like worms or snakes... a million of them hatching and swarming over.

Panic engulfed him. He struggled to break free. Spock wrapped his right arm around his chest to keep him under control. Kirk screamed:

“Let go off me Spock, I changed my mind, I don’t want this, I...”

“Don’t make me use the Vulcan pinch. Just... trust me.”

Kirk nodded and stayed put, reflex tears rolling down his cheeks.

The awkward sensation headed to his spinal cord. Once there, it inexorably crept up, yearning for the brains. The captain endeavoured to breathe deeply but his diaphragm weighted like a tomb stone. The contact winded him away. Literally. His conscious was wrenched from its organic support and sent to orbit.

He could only perceive himself as a buzzing sphere of messy activity, a glittering cloud of unruly and rebellious thoughts. Below him, stretched a vast field of perfectly ordered entities organized in strict square rows. He glided over the fascinating landscape, mesmerized.

Once in a while, an insubordinate unit would boldly venture out of the rank. It was either pushed back to its rightful place or simply pulverised without any other form of prosecution.

Frightened, Kirk attempted to take off but he couldn’t. He felt strangely drawn to the scary military prison. Was he caught in a tractor beam, or... could he just not resist the distress signal emanating from the sad gloomy place? He landed.

The other spirit was powerful and aggressive despite its apparent placidity. It wrenched a few shiny thoughts, and then some tatters, lacerating greedily its willing victim until each belief or idea were digested. Unexpectedly, this was not the end of it. Within the ranks, mutiny began to ferment and effervesce. A dazzling blast of energy unfurled over the area.

Somewhere, down in his body, Kirk felt the flesh link between Spock and him bulge and palpitate in rhythm while the Vulcan dropped loud throat groans, his face buried in the human’s nape.

Hearing and feeling this mate’s orgasm was the most exhilarating experience ever. His own unchained pleasure raced like an earthquake throughout every single fibber of his being, churning each cell, each atom to the core. His senses were in such turmoil he couldn’t tell where his own skin ended and where Spock’s began. Absolute ecstasy. endless bliss. Pure madness.

Spock sucked on his earlobe. The mighty appendage was gradually withdrawing. Another wave of pleasure washed over him: a tsunami of chills and seizures. Panting, he abandoned himself to the warm well-being that spread to his limbs.

Tacky fingers slipped into his mouth. He recognized the smell. Deduced the origin of the sticky salty substance. He rolled over to face his partner and look in his eyes. Spock stared back intently while licking away the last traces of human sperm from his phalanxes. For a Vulcan, this was close to masturbation.

Kirk quivered. This was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. His amazed eyes ran over his mate. He was splendid... the organ that rested on his abdomen evoked a magnificent sleeping beast. But the real beauty emanated from the bright keen spirit embedded behind the outlandish features. Once again, Kirk’s heart missed a beat. Mere friendship...

He tossed and turned seeking for the most restful spot to cuddle against the Vulcan’s burning flank. He nested his cheek in the arm pit, smelled it until he was completely high. He smiled mindlessly, enjoying the sensation of the alien heart throbbing against his belly while a well-deserved sleep snuck upon him.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

When he woke up, the Vulcan was no longer near him. Not far though, meditating in full lotus position. From where he was, Kirk could only see his back. He long stared at the elegant nape where the baby hairs grew so soft and silky...

He sighed. Was it possible that Spock should have made love to him just to steady his nerves and finally get himself an occasion to achieve efficient contemplation? He swallowed the words climbing up his throat. He wanted Spock to stop whatever he was doing to come and take care of him. The urge swelled to pain. It was silly. What was with him, suddenly? Mental barriers represented their only chance not to get stuck with a baby-monster growing in an implanted uterus.

“NOW IS THE TIME. READY.”

The next second, both Kirk and Spock were on their feet. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kirk couldn’t help but notice that the Vulcan penis had completely reintegrated its owner’s outstanding body.

“Nothing has changed,” Kirk stated. “We still don’t... want...”

The captain couldn’t finish his sentence. Something was arising from the floor... an enlarged villus slowly moulding itself to adopt a somewhat humanoid appearance. Through the translucent carved-in-water skin, eye could discern frizzy threads foaming out of a milky substance.

“COME CLOSER.”

Similar to spring-mounted puppets, the two men walked up to their master and allowed It to extend and coil filaments around them. A treacherous dizziness engulfed them when the creature opened tiny pores in its slimy tegument and infused its victims with powerful neurotoxins.

“Spock,” Kirk thought. “If you’ve planned something, now is the time.”

“Trying, Captain.”

Spock was indeed endeavouring to raise mental fortifications on the trespasser’s path. Unfortunately, the war was being fought on many different fronts. It was like playing chess against a hundred computers.

“It’s gaining ground, Captain, I don’t think I can resist any longer.”

“Hold on Spock, hold...”

“NO. IMPOSSIBLE! (A thrill shook the humanoid bubble encased between them) IMPOSSIBLE! LINK TOO STRONG! CANNOT INTERFERE... CANNOT PENETRATE! NOT TWO ANYMORE? ONE?”

“What’s happening, Spock?”

“It’s ebbing from us...”

“Defeated?”

“I’m not sure...”

“USELESS!” the intruder thundered, the echoes of its wrath relayed and amplified by all the membranous structures drifting around. “USELESS! GET RID OF INFERIOR TROUBLESOME CREATURES.”

The giant villus regressed promptly to its former size, thereby freeing them altogether. Kirk exulted:

“That’s it Spock, we won!... Right?”

“I don’t know, Sir. The implantation process might have failed. Still...”

The Captain caught the embedded anguish in his first officer’s voice. It was a first. He had never before been able to sense the Vulcan’s emotions.

“What now, Spock?”

“Our vacuole is moving faster. Abnormally faster actually. I believe we are... kicked out as some would say.”

“Not... good news?”

Spock did not have to answer. Kirk was already assessing the gravity of the situation. Hours had passed since their last contact with the ship. They could be anywhere. Chances for Scotty to still be able to spot them were very dim. The main membrane was closing fast. Spock slung a neoteluran suit at his superior officer.

“Quick Captain! We only have a few seconds left.”

The Vulcan himself was swiftly slipping into the other one. The torn one.

“Wait a minute Mister Spock, I’m not wearing this. You are”

“Illogical Captain. I’m stronger.”

“And more sensitive to lower temperatures.”

“And less essential. We’re loosing time, Captain. If you don’t put this on, we’ll both die unnecessarily.”

Kirk forced his hottest smile. Exocytose was imminent but his voice was rock steady.

“You are stronger. With this suit, you will make it no matter what. I place my life in your hands. I find I was never wrong doing so... Now let’s switch. No argument. This is a direct order, and sleeping with the Captain does not grant any special treatment.”

“That’s not what yeomen say...”

“Spock!”

Reluctantly, the Vulcan complied and placed the respiratory device on his face. He activated his handphaser and set it to “kill” mode. The two friends’ eyes interlocked. The biological membranes touched. Fused. An icy current yanked them out.

Arms around his captain, Spock waited. And waited.

Their former host was rowing away. From a distance, it really looked like a giant paramecium... or a tiny cosmos...

Spock kept waiting while the human against him progressively lost consciousness. Scotty was not coming to their rescue. Spock made up his mind. He had to swim to the surface. The sooner the better.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A long rough day. Taking over command after spending over two weeks in sick bay had been a real challenge. Kirk leant back against the curved wall of the corridor leading to his personal quarters. An unhealthy perspiration dotted his forehead. He felt faint. He shouldn’t have eaten that much pie but the food in sickbay was part of the medical torture.

The Enterprise was quiet, like deserted. The soften ceiling lights bathed the place with romance and intimacy. He liked Her that way. Naked and abandoned... and still so powerful. In moments like that, the call was almost overwhelming.

A bright pain crucified his belly. His vision briefly blurred. He smothered a Groan before collapsing. Kirk pulled his communicator out and pressed the emergency button.

“Help... someone... help me out!”

No one answered.

He brushed off his face now damped with sweat. His breathing grew arduous while the sore in his abdomen pushed his stomach to the edge of his mouth. His swelling belly tensed his uniform. No more pie I swear!

Horror-struck, he watched his shirt and trousers burst under the strain. Thereafter, the skin stretched even more, growing thinner and translucent. Inside the giant palpitating bubble that had replaced his abdomen, something moved.

He let out a yell, covering the monstrosity with his shaking hands.

“No, No...no no no no...not that! Help! HEEEEELP!”

Another wave of excruciating pain shot his flanks, bringing up tears. The creature inside him was growing impatient. It shyly scratched its envelope before studiously scraping at it.

Tiny cracks ran over the speckled-with-blue-veins membrane. Kirk wished he could have passed out before seeing it. A chitin-coated pincer. He wailed.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The captain sat bolt upright on his bed, eyes wild, suffocating. It took him several seconds to come around. He feverishly palpated his flat muscular abdomen, closed his eyes in relief.

He reached out for a glass of water and considered the pills scattered over his night table. Nothing worked against these nightmares. Bones didn’t seem very worried however, he was convinced they would fade away in time. How much time was the question. How much time until real regenerating sleep?

He flashed a scowl at the computer’s clock. Almost six hundred. Time to wake up anyway. Looking forward to his first day back in command... with an overly attached headache...

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kirk grew heavy-hearted while the turbolift carried him up to the bridge level. He was about to see Spock. He hadn’t seen him at all since their return. Not once had his first officer come visit him, while each and every member of the crew had. Of course, he owed him his life –again. Of course, Spock had been busy occupying both their functions... Of course no Vulcan would ever admit being concerned about anyone... Still...

The doors shushed open and... A storm of confetti and cotillions assaulted him. Thunderous applause blasted around him. Vivid banners and loving smiles and warm greetings blossomed everywhere his eyes settled.

“For the Captain, HIP HIP! HOORAY!”

Uhura blew a party whistle at him before impetuously flying in his arms. She stuck a crispy kiss on his cheek.

“Welcome back, Captain!” Sulu and Chekov shouted in chorus.

Kirk allowed a half smile, comforted and embarrassed at the s ame time.

“Thank you all. I’m... touched. Now, I gather we have some work ahead... Everybody back at their post.”

One of his crewmen did not have to move to comply. Spock, tall and handsome without even trying was simply standing in the scientific station, his eyes as fathomless as ever. Kirk took a hopeful step toward his first officer, eagerness painted all over his beaming face. The Vulcan respectfully acknowledged his captain before taking place in his seat and spinning around to lean over the instrument panel. Kirk froze and frowned in bafflement.

He climbed down the steps leading to his chair and sank into it, clouds invading his mind. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, snuck peeks at The Vulcan’s back.

Why so cold, Spock?

“Captain, would you mind countersigning Mister Spock’s report about the New-Tethys mission?”

Kirk gazed up at his half lepi new yeoman. Her pale blue carnation enhanced the amber of her slanting eyes. Her curly red hair was like a living fire dancing around her perfectly shaped features. She was handing over the flexible screen where Spock’s report was scrolling down in red standard fonts.

“Not now, Suka.”

The very young and attractive girl stared at him, her breath-taking lashes fluttering.

“But it’s ready for expedition, Sir.”

Kirk clenched teeth in annoyment.

“Later. Please...”

“Aye Sir.”

“Mister Spock?”

The Vulcan turned around.

“Captain?”

“Would you mind enlighting me? The on-board computer informed me about that new mission taking precedence over any other. I was surprised to find that no details were available. What’s the fuss?”

“It’s not a mission, strictly speaking, although the Federation approves very much of it. I suppose you remember King Brunnen of Celée and his daughter, Princess Celena.”

A painful melancholy darkened the Captain’s eyes. Yes, he remembered them... her. The ravening passion the princess had ignited in him. How devastated he had felt when he’d learnt that she was about to die.

“The Princess, Spock went on, is suffering from a previously incurable disease.”

« Previously? »

“Doctor McCoy believes he’s achieved a great medical breakthrough. He might have found a cure.”

Kirk’s face radiated.

“Really?”

“He’s been working on it continuously for almost two weeks now. He was too exhausted this morning to complete his report. Although Sepalia is no part of the Federation, the government wishes to help.”

“Well, let’s not forget that, although deprived of any valuable resources, Sepalia occupies a strategic position of greatest importance at the boundary of colonized territories. The Celean are notoriously the most powerful and influent people of the planet.”

“True, Captain. We are therefore en route to the Orono star system. According to the computer’s estimations, we may reach orbit within two days, eight hours forty four minutes one second and... ”

“Has King Brunnen been notified? Celina was in a terrible state last time I heard of her. Aren’t we too late already?”

“I don’t believe so Captain, although it might be close, assuming of course the cure actually works. It’s only experimental so far. The king is aware of our arrival. However Doctor McCoy has wisely kept a possibly false hope from him. The King thinks we’re...”

“Coming for his daughter’s last hours. »

Kirk nodded wistfully. The hope, faint as it was, still warmed his heart. Or did it? Spock was turning his back again, his long spider-like hands flying over the panel. He reminded Kirk of a gifted pianist wooing his instrument, making love to it, extracting enchanting notes with tantalizing caresses. Vertigo seized him. The urge to burst in the science station just to... to what? What the hell was happening to him?

He pinched the root of his nose.

“Captain, are you all right?” Uhura asked, alarmed. “You’re very white, even for a white man.”

“Yes,” (Kirk forced a grin in spite of the vise clamping his heart.) “Yes I’m fine.”

Spock had not even flinched.

The captain leant back in his chair and tried to relax. On the main viewer, a portion of the cosmos was unveiling its ever astonishing magnificence. The bridge itself, sparkling with fireworks of lamps and flashes and warnings, and diagrams, was reminiscent of a bright constellation, a rightful part of the show. Where else had he ever felt so safe, so happy, so... home?

Long dark eyes swam before him. There was another place. For no understandable reason, his eyelids swelled.

Something was wrong. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he knew something was wrong.

Spock was actually not behaving any differently. He was the one overreacting. But why? Why would it suddenly hurt so much?

“Mister Spock I would like to invite you for gam...”

“Mister Spock, Uhura interrupted, a call from sickbay.”

“For me?”

“Yes Sir.”

Spock pressed the corresponding channel button.

“Yes Doctor?”

A melodic voice arose from the loudspeaker.

“This is not Doctor McCoy, this is Nurse Chapel, sorry to bug you Sir.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I would like... I wondered... Could you report to sickbay after your service Sir?”

“I will Miss Chapel.”

“Thank you Sir.”

Kirk’s glance dissected his first officer’s blushing profile. His pointed ears had turned to emerald green and although he feigned to be wholly absorbed in his work, his discomfort was evident. What could sway a Vulcan that much? Kirk was afraid he knew the answer. A sweep of unexpected rage blew him. He stood up.

“You’re right Uhura, I do feel dizzy. Perhaps I overestimated my strength. I’ll go rest a moment in my quarters. Mister Spock you have the con.”

“Aye Sir.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“WOW, unbelievable!” Uhura exclaimed. “I’d swear it’s a real one!”

She held her hands out to pluck the little ball of synthetic fur from Sulu’s arms.

“Indeed, it’s just as soft and... listen!” (Sulu had Uhura approach the shivering creature to her ear) “It’s purring, just like a real one!”

The two lieutenants were kidding around down the main corridor, heading for the dinner room. Sulu had purchased a tribble-bot, and thereby stirred up the young woman’s interest.

Their captain was following, keeping a respectable distance. They were adorable. He, Asian, her, African, coming from such different countries and cultures... Everything yet seemed so simple, so natural... as long as it didn’t involve the very mighty... and very lonely Captain...

“Sulu, Uhura, I’m not sure I’m hungry, maybe I’ll...”

“You have to eat, Captain!” Uhura lectured him, her elegant brows joined over her doll-like eyes. “Where I’m from, we say: empty bags won’t stand up.”

Kirk walked up to her, grabbed her hands and encased them in his.

“Mummy I swear I’ll have my yeoman bring me something.”

Uhura flashed him a disapproving look:

“Food Sir. Is what you should ask from her. At least until you get better.”

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“Attaboy. Good and restful evening, Sir.”

Kirk waited for his lieutenants to walk past the curve and disappear before drawing back and turning left to enter the passageway leading to sickbay.

What the hell was he doing? Why on earth would he need to spy on his first officer? Spock had a right to do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted.

As he approached sickbay, his heart quickened. Something about Spock’s embarrassment was definitely suspicious. If he and nurse Chapel were romantically involved, there was nothing to be ashamed of... Spock had been with other women before...

Kirk stopped when he saw two shadows stretching along the opposite wall. He strained his ear to catch the little snippets of conversation floating in the air. It was them. Kirk elongated his neck to get a glimpse. They were both standing in the doorway, facing each other. The small blonde nurse was encasing Spock’s hand in hers, her lapis eyes drowning in his. The picture transfixed the captain’s heart. She was whispering:

“You must have lost it last time you came, I thought you might need it.”

“I already had it replaced, but it’s very thoughtful of you, he answered in the same low velvet voice.”

She reached up, stroke his cheek lovingly.

“You ought to get some rest tonight. You look exhausted. Remember you’re only half Vulcan, so many sleepless nights could make you sick.”

“Don’t worry I’m quite fine, but you’re right, I could use some sleep.”

“Good night and sweet dreams, then.”

Kirk slipped into a safety cabin. Spock’s steps stopped.

“Christine, may I ask you something? Could we...”

“Keep this a secret?”

“Please?”

“You have my word”

“Thank you.”

Spock continued on his way to the main corridor without noticing the eyes watching his every move from the safety compartment. Kirk waited a few minutes before following the same path. What was going on? Well did he really need to ask? Was it not obvious enough?

He couldn’t tell how he managed to get back to his room. His brain didn’t seem to be aware of his body. All he could think about was that picture. Spock and Christine, so close, so intimate... lovers, what else?

He fell on his bed, arm over his sore wet eyes. Bitterness, despair, resentment, hatred...

He sighed heavily and long rubbed his face as if he could wipe these putrid thoughts away. If he didn’t know better, he would mistake this for... jealousy. Ew! Nonsense!

Jealousy had never been his cup of tea. And even so, Spock was his friend. His dearest friend. But a friend. To be absolutely honest, he had to confess that he had... sometimes felt... an undeniable... attraction... toward his first officer... once, or twice... or maybe more... but nothing that compelling, that obsessive, that monopolizing!

Where did it come from? Kirk frowned in a vain attempt to recollect what had happened on New-Tethys. Alas, his memory felt like quick sands. It would shift and slip away as soon as he would try to investigate it. McCoy had assured him it would patch together back in time.

He remembered passing out in Spock’s arms while they were swimming for their lives back there on that damned planet. After that, sickbay, McCoy, M’Benga, other doctors and nurses, and scary medical droids with icy metallic manipulators... His body and brain had suffered serious injuries from the cold and he had remained in a coma for six days, closer to death than he ever was.

The following days had been a struggle and a race to learn back only basic abilities. It had proven strenuous, rough, unfair and more than once despairing. There were moments when he thought he would never overcome this, moments when he gasped for a friend... for Spock to just... be there. And he wasn’t.

Something strange about that too. His first officer had always made up credible excuses to look after him without jeopardizing Vulcan decency. So what had happened? Christine Chapel?

Kirk sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. His headache was again charging across his temples. He felt like curling in a corner and crying out until the end of times.

According to the doctor, his brain was slowly healing, growing new cells to replace the ones that had been damaged. It had to be the explanation for all the turmoil, the emotional outbursts, the confusion.

Tomorrow, he would read Spock’s report. Maybe that would help stitch the story together.

He reached out to collect all the pills scattered on his night table and thrust them in his mouth before taking a sip of water.

There! I too deserve a good sleeping night.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kirk offered his burning face to the freshness of the water, lulled by the murmuring sounds of the foam. The holo had turned a simple shower into a splashing and rushing tropical waterfall framed by a lush fern forest. Once in a while, a lyric tweet or a silky wing beat would make the illusion even more deceitful.

Regretfully, he turned the faucet off and watched the joyful rainbows vanish along with the breath-taking cascade.

He walked up to the washbasin and looked in the mirror. When had he grown so tired, so old? His virile face was still smooth and highly attractive, his wet hair looked like a gold helmet and his carved in marble robust body would have made a Greek god envious. But his eyes reflected all the misery of the world.

He reached around to catch his towel, couldn’t find it.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

Kirk spun around in shock. Spock was standing there, holding the towel. He was obviously coming back from the training room, judging by the sweat damping his shirt and the curls sticking to his forehead. He used the towel to blot his face and hair dry and then handed it over. He radiated steaming sensuality. He was insolently beautiful.

“Should I bring you another one, Captain?”

Kirk swallowed heavily while shaking is head in denegation. In the cloudy atmosphere, his first officer seemed somewhat unreal. Evanescent, a phantasmagorical entity teasing his senses and nerves. The stirring eyes were whispering about lust and sex and pleasure.

The demonic creature approached, rolled up the towel, threw it around his captain’s neck and, holding both ends, brutally drew him closer. Spock pressed his forehead against his, their breaths mixed up, their bodies clung.

Kirk didn’t know what to do with himself, intoxicated by the spicy smell of the Vulcan’s sweat. Between his legs, his penis woke up. Spock had begun to lick away the droplets from his cheek, flicking his tongue down the human’s throat and chest, greedily sucking dry every square inch of the soft glabrous skin. His velvet lips wandered down, and down... not willing to neglect a single area.

The Vulcan finally dropped to his knees and gazed up maliciously. Kirk closed his eyes but quickly reopened them. He didn’t want to miss that, the image of his triumphant soldier entering Spock’s welcoming sanctuary. He could anticipate the moist, the suppleness of the tongue, the sharpness of the teeth...

Kirk woke up, eyes startled open, gasping, a deflagration of pleasure ravaging his pubis. He had just enough time to grab a handful of tissues from the dispenser embedded in the side of his headboard.

He lied back, panting harshly, his head waltzing.

It was getting worse. How could he get through this new day, perform even basic tasks in such a state?

He had a hunch, a gut feeling that he was somehow missing the great picture. He stood up, pulled on a dressing gown and walked up to his personal console. He pressed a button, waited for of sizzle, then pushed another one.

“Captain?”

“Uhura, have Miss Chapel join me in debriefing room.”

“What? Now? It’s two in the morning and she’s not on duty!”

“When I need a clock, lieutenant...”

“Aye Sir.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Sat in the presidential office chair, the Captain joined his fists over his mouth, thinking about what he should say, not to appear as hysterical as he in fact was. He took his time, knowing the silence would make the strain heavier for the young nurse.

Eyes narrowed, he gauged his rival. She was standing straight in the naked light, her proud chin slightly lifted, aware of the accusation in her superior’s glance. She was nothing near a beauty, not the kind of woman that would turn heads in the street. Nevertheless, she emanated that innocence, that angel-like attractiveness that could move the hardened heart.

“Nurse Chapel, I’m sorry I had to fetch you at such an hour. I’ve been concerned about my first officer’s health and peace of mind. Lately, he’s seemed... somewhat... unfocused. Which is, I’m sure you’ll agree, most unsettling, for a second in command... I need to know I can rely on him, even more when I’m myself still diminished. I wondered, if... you might know anything... ”

“If I did Sir, I certainly couldn’t share it. Just like Doctor McCoy, I’m bound with the obligation of medical secrecy.”

Kirk fought his sourness by adding some honey in his voice.

“And... what if it was not medical?”

“Then it would be personal. And I still couldn’t say a word without his permission.”

“Your loyalty honours you, but the safety of the ship is at stake, Miss Chapel.”

“There is nothing wrong with Mister Spock’s last medical check-up. But the computer could have told you that, Sir. About his personal life, I’m not at liberty to speak. Maybe you could ask him?”

“I’m asking you!”

Kirk had roared. Restraining himself like never before, he moved across the table and walked towards the tight-lipped nurse. He settled both hands on her lean shoulders and contracted the muscles around his mouth. He looked like a fox ogling at a chicken.

“Surely you understand, Miss Chapel, that my only concern here is the well-being of my first officer and friend.”

A respectful but unbendable determination gleamed in the kind blue eyes.

“My answer stands, Sir.”

Almost suffocating with anger, Kirk went back to his chair and threw himself down in it.

“That’ll be all, Miss Chapel.”

“Sir,”

She bowed politely and took a step back.

“Oh! Miss Chapel?”

“Sir?”

“Is your uniform the official length?”

“It is Sir. Actually four inches longer than the length you personally required. But I never had it shortened.”

“Hm. Don’t change anything. Not everybody can wear short skirts.”

The young woman stared at him, baffled and visibly humiliated.

He instantly regretted his nasty and unwarranted remark, almost apologized. But didn’t.

“Dismissed.”

She withdrew in haste, her poor face swelling over a smothered sob.

By himself, Kirk sighed. He felt ashamed, and lost. He was just not himself anymore.

There had to be an explanation. Maybe McCoy would know... but Kirk didn’t fancy the idea of waking him up at such an ungodly hour when the physician had spent weeks working on a cure to save the Celean princess. Yet he had to shed light on this whole affair.

Absently, he drummed his fingers on the computer’s keyboard. If only he could find out what had happened during the time he was in sickbay...

An idea hatched in his mind. Of course!

He wrenched the artificial intelligence from its sleep.

“Computer.”

The virtual screen burst out of the panel.

“Captain.”

He hesitated. Where to look first?

“Surveillance map desk five.”

A complicated plan appeared, showing the main cameras distribution.

“507. Four days ago. From 1900 to 600. Acceleration factor 32.”

The passageway leading to the medical personal quarters. Nurses and Doctors, and assistants and students moving like excited bugs, changing clothes and hairstyles for dinner. 2052: nurse Fontaine on her way to relieve her colleague. 2120. Nurse Chapel coming back to her room, obviously worn out. Then a few decreasing comings and goings. Around 2330 almost every body resting in their apartment. 0002 guardian’s first round.

Kirk went on dissecting the pictures, waiting for a tall pale silhouette with pointed ears to materialize anytime. It didn’t.

“501 same patterns.”

“Access restricted. Please confirm administrator’s password.”

The captain stretched his lips. This search would be recorded in the official log.

He typed in the secret code and the wide hall giving access to the superior officers’ area invaded the viewer. And pictures followed upon pictures, Spockless, until... 0527. A livid stumbling creature clutching on the curved walls. Kirk jumped forward.

“Normal speed.”

The Vulcan was evidently in a terrible state, physically and psychologically. Exhaustion and despair carved his usually undecipherable face. All of a sudden, he flashed a suspicious look at the camera. The following second, he had gathered his dignity back and composed himself an attitude. His features were steel-like when he walked past the main door.

Kirk leant back in his chair, deeply moved.

Spock! In such a condition! It was beyond understanding. Or was he like any human, just better at concealing his weaknesses?

I love him.

Kirk took a moment to consider calmly what he had just thought. Felt. It was real. No neuronal-short-circuit bullshit. The feeling forced itself upon him. And there was nothing he could do to fight or escape it. He knew now it had always been there, from the very first sight, from the very first brow lift: vicious love lurking from the depths of his heart. He had recklessly tagged it friendship, allowing it to grow and spread in legitimacy.

Oddly, admitting its existence and power was a relief. Spock did not reciprocate, of course, but Kirk could at least hope to achieve a relative peace of mind.

The captain’s eyes drifted back to the screen. Where had the Vulcan spent the night, if not at Miss Chapel’s?

In sickbay’s laboratory! That was it! He had spent his nights working on the cure with Bones! It explained everything! Even Nurse Chapel clutching at the occasion to give him back whatever he had lost there!

“602, the biomedical laboratory. Fourteen days ago. Same patterns.”

McCoy dressed in a white blouse, surrounded by droid-assistants, projections of sinuous molecules and virtual atoms racing and mating all over the room. At this speed, the doctor seemed to have grown a very useful extra pair of limbs. He looked exhausted. Bags under his eyes had almost replaced his hollow cheeks. A blast of affection blew Kirk’s heart.

Spock was not there yet. Kirk waited until the Vulcan’s head appeared.

“Gotcha! Normal speed!”

“You fetched me Doctor?”

“Yes I need a Beta on this. I’m not sure the protein anchors are going to be strong enough. Or if they’re going to last long enough for the patient to have time to synthesise its own. My last Result seems inconsistent with the previous ones.

“Have you fist ascertained their immune inertia?”

“Of course I did!”

“I think we should re-evaluate the discrepant sample in further test systems. You need a rest Doctor, let me have a look.”

McCoy acquiesced and slumped down into the nearest chair, rubbing his eyeballs while Spock dealt with the computer.

“Spock I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me. Your help.”

“This cure is the opportunity for the Federation to establish a strong relationship with a planet of high strategic position. King Brunnen wouldn’t hear of any commitment before.”

“You mean the fact that his daughter is so dear to our Captain has nothing to do with your involvement?”

“Irrelevant Doctor. For a Vulcan, no life is worth more than another, unless...”

“Whatever your reasons, Spock... thank you.”

“Here.”

Spock lifted his palm. A strange pink and green multi-legged molecule materialized between the two men.

“This is more like it, Doctor. I believe we’re closing. Would you like me to check the state of purification of the immortalized cells?”

“No, I’ll do it. I need to look over the whole process.”

“As you wish Doctor. If you need me, do call”.

“I will.”

Kirk smiled dreamingly. He knew the two men only pretended to despise each other. In moments of crisis, they would just lose their respective masks.

“And... Spock!”

“Doctor?”

“He’ll pull through. He will.”

“I never doubted that. However, the harshest times lie ahead. When he wakes up and finds out what’s happened. What he has lost and what we have done.”

“We did nothing wrong, Spock. We’re endeavouring to save lives.”

“I’m not sure he’ll see things that way.”

Kirk frowned. What the hell were they talking about?

He switched cameras to follow Spock out of the lab. The Vulcan headed to the turbo lift. It took a few attempts to localize him again, this time in sickbay... The intensive care unit... He went in a surveillance cabin adjacent to one of the patient’s room. Kirk’s room. Spock sat in the dark, facing the one-way mirror, elbows resting on the armrests, fingertips joined before his mouth, not shifting his gaze from the human lying on the other side. He wouldn’t even blink.

“Computer, same patterns thirteen days ago.”

Kirk waited for the next recording to load.

“Computer?”

“Already done, Captain.”

Kirk puffed himself up. Spock was there again, in the very same position, staring at his captain, his eyes fathomless.

“Twelve days.”

Identical.

“Eleven days?”

The captain caressed an imaginary beard. Spock had been there, every night. Every. Single. Damn. Night. Kirk felt like singing and dancing, but something held him back. He wondered. Concern? Or guilt? What had these two devils been up to?

Even as a Captain, Kirk had no access to surgery or emergency rooms recordings. His first hours back on the ship after the mission on New-Tethys would definitely remain a mystery unless McCoy was willing to spill the beans. Soundtracks from patients’ rooms were also beyond his reach unless he would fill a proper and very official request to the ICP (Interplanetary College of Physicians).

“Play recordings from the moment I woke up from the coma.”

On the viewer, a clone of himself moved in his bed and opened sticky eyes. The medical scanner panel over his head went crazy, alarming the whole medical staff. In no time, a swarm of nurses was around, running tests and reading medical tricorders.

Bones arrived the next minute. He looked older than a mummy. A mixture of relief, joy, and discomfort emanated from him.

The Doctor and Kirk prime had... well you could hardly call that a conversation... it was more a monologue in McCoy’s favour. At some point, the doctor sat down near his patient and laid a compassionate hand on his shoulder. His face was not visible, but Kirk’s was gradually decomposing as the physician exposed the situation. Eventually, the captain twisted his neck to settle his cheek down on the pillow. He clenched jaws and eyelids, pain crawling all over his face. Tears scintillated along his lash line.

Despite his efforts, Kirk couldn’t recall this scene. Somehow, he remembered the pain. But it felt like it had happened to somebody else. Illogical, one would say. How could memories have been altered after the trauma?

“Increase speed, factor eight.”

His finger standing by over the “pause” button, he went through re-education all over again, pitying that poor fellow who seemed to carry the universe upon his shoulders. He had never been the surrendering type. He would always see a crash as an occasion to strengthen his will, to learn something, to improve himself. Why so miserable then? The man on the screen wouldn’t even try. He was like broken, annihilated. No more than an empty shell.

The captain slammed his fist on his desk in frustration. And this is when he saw it. Spock. Leaning over his sleeping superior officer and planting his fingers in his cheek. Kirk froze the picture.

Mind meld.

A violent feeling of betrayal and isolation swayed him. He tried to reason with himself. Both Spock and Bones were his closest and most loyal friends. They would never do anything to hurt or deceive him, should their very lives depend on it. He trusted them. Entirely. He only had assembled pieces of a greater puzzle. All he had to do was ask for the rest.

“Captain.

Spock’s voice from the bridge.

“Kirk here, what is it?”

“We’re approaching Sepalia.”

“Yes, I was actually counting on that.”

“A problem has arisen, Sir.”

“What... kind of problem?”

“Maybe you should see by yourself, Captain.”

Kirk checked the clock. 0458. Nothing surprising about his first officer being that early on the bridge, but Spock would never have called him unless a critical situation had occurred.

“On my way.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

« J’ai cru voir glisser sur une fleur une longue limace... »

« Captain ? »

Kirk jumped at Spock’s voice in his nape.

“Oh... nothing... just... something I once read. A quote from a human poet.”

“That quite describes the situation, Sir.”

Sepalia was indeed a flower. A delicate scarlet bud fringed with the green velvet of its huge continents. This side of the planet was still asleep, lying in semi darkness, waiting for the red fingers of the sun to unveil its whole beauty. Three of its nine beadlike moons were still visible.

And the Klingon D7-class battle cruiser played a very credible slug. Gliding in orbit and already devouring half the screen, the gigantic scarred-and-proud-of-it vessel shed a sinister threat over the vulnerable piece of paradise.

“Shields and deflectors up, Mister Chekov!”

“Already up and operating Sir.”

“What the devil are they doing here?” Kirk asked, mostly to himself.

“They must have heard of the Princess’s condition,” Spock replied. “The Celean funeral and bereavement usually begin as soon as the life is considered irremediably lost. Traditional royal ceremonies imply absolute nakedness.”

Kirk turned his head in inquiry.

“I mean, Sir, in order for the soul to reach and join the cosmos, the magnetic shields protecting the realm are to be deactivated.”

“I had no idea... Energize main phasers, Mister Chekov. All weapons to full power.”

“All weapons to full power. Phasers locked on target, Sir.”

“We must let the king know that there is still hope, that such exposure is not yet required... Uhura, open hailing frequencies.”

“Hailing frequencies jammed, Sir.”

“Keep trying!”

“I am, Sir, I... wait! I’m receiving a... signal... from...the Klingon vessel, Sir. They’re hailing us!”

The captain and his first officer glanced at each other.

“Put them through. Secondary viewer, I want to keep an eye on what is happening out there.”

“Aye Sir.”

“Captain?” Spock interrupted.

“Yes!”

“The city shields were already down when we arrived. The Klingons had more than time to attack or demand unconditional surrender. In both cases, we would know by now.”

“I see your point.”

“If I may be allowed to venture a hypothesis, Sir... they may have been waiting for us... Your... involvement with the royal family is no secret, Sir.”

Kirk sighed, anguish pinching his trachea. He head-gestured at his communication officer, and the second screen turned on.

The Klingon commander’s face appeared, his bird-of-prey eyes shining dangerously in the protective shade of his tricipital lobe. His cranial crest, covered in tanned leather, brought to mind an impregnable fortress.

“I am Gorlock commander of IKCjaqmoH and I’ve been waiting for you, Captain James Tiberius Kirk.”

Kirk flashed an oblique look at his first officer.

“What do you want?”

“Pay my respects, of course! I’ve learnt about the great misery that falls upon the realm. Aren’t you here for just the same reason?”

“You said you’ve been waiting for me.”

“Oh, yes, I... had a request.”

“Name it.”

“A small thing, really, just... a copy of the official report following your mission on New-Tethys.”

Although no one noticed, Kirk felt punched in the face.

“This is a confidential file, it belongs to the Federation’s government. It’s not mine to hand over.”

“And New-Tethys is part of our territory.”

“Barely.”

The Klingon opened a wide mouth revealing shark-like teeth. There was a coldness in this smile that chilled them.

“Whereas Sepalia is no part of the Federation at all. If I wanted, I could, let’s say, wipe out all her inhabitants, nuke the whole planet and get away with it. Just like you got away with blowing one of our vessels to pieces.”

“They attacked us.”

“Say you. Now... the ball is in your court, as earthlings say...”

Kirk filled up his chest.

“I can’t overstep my authority. I need to discuss this with my superiors.”

“I’m growing impatient, Captain. My finger is crawling with bugs. I could open fire... by accident! Well that would be most unfortunate, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m not negotiating with...”

“Captain!” Spock burst in, “Their shields are up and fully functioning, we may destroy them, but not before they would carry out the threat. We can’t either use the Enterprise as a bulwark, she wouldn’t withstand it and we couldn’t retaliate.”

The captain shot a poisonous look at his first officer. How could he expose their powerlessness to the enemy so thoughtlessly, did bluff mean nothing where he came from? However, when the Vulcan starred back, Kirk thought he read something in the clever eyes.

Trust me.

Can I?

“How do I know you won’t obliterate the city anyway?”

“You don’t. But I am acknowledged as a Klingon of his word.”

“You win.”

A smirk lit the warrior’s sharp face.

“No trick, Kirk, I can verify the authenticity of the file. If not genuine...”

“Uhura, initiate file transfer.”

“Aye Sir.”

Seconds swell to minutes while the two parties waited in complete silence.

A female Klingon bent over the commander’s shoulder, dropped something in his ear. He nodded.

“Well this has been a pleasure, Captain Kirk! I can’t wait to read it. I have a hunch it’s really worth it...”

The picture on the second screen vanished while, on the main viewer, the Klingon warship slowly withdrew. It disappeared in a dazzling flash.

“Proceed into orbit mister Sulu.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kirk rested back in his chair and crossed feet on the edge of his desk. The next second, he was settling them down and leaning over, elbows on the armrests, fists clung. Unable to stick to a position, he finally stood up and started to pace, listening to the steady steps coming from the corridor and growing louder.

“You asked for me, Captain?”

Kirk froze, glanced at his first officer. The misleading placid attitude brought to mind a resting lion. The captain crossed his arms on his chest.

“Compliments. You had foreseen this Klingon move, hadn’t you?”

“Not at all Sir. It couldn’t have been further from my mind.”

Kirk frowned, confused.

“Then why would you send the Federation a fake report?”

“It’s not Captain, it’s authentic, the one and actual report I always intended to provide, unless you had voiced disagreement.”

“You know I had no time to read it.”

“I know you didn’t read it. Not until today.”

“What made you think I would have agreed to conceal our discovery? New Tethys is a mine of dilithium. Keeping this from the government could mean life sentence!”

“Did you notice, Captain that I nowhere mentioned dilithium crystals to be absent? I merely wrote that I had identified none. Which I definitely had no time to do.”

“But...I remember... you talked about...”

“Dilithium emanations.

Kirk chuckled.

“Well I recognize you there. No lie, then?”

“None whatsoever, Captain. My report was absolutely accurate.”

“And what purpose does that absolutely accurate report serve?”

“Well it does protect the deposits from Klingon greediness, for one thing.”

“It also protects it from the Federation’s.”

“Captain, before our mission, I thought the whole marine fauna thrived on the energy released by tectonic activity. It now appears these dilithium emanations are essential as well. They sustain creatures like...”

“The one who swallowed us and tried to force intercourse upon us?”

“Odd as it may seem, theses creatures are a necessary link of the chain. They can be compared with insects on a planet like Earth.”

Kirk sighed deeply.

“It’s too late anyway... I suppose...we have to stick to our story.”

“Wise decision Captain. May I ask if we got any news from the surface? I gather Doctor McCoy and Miss Chapel have already beamed down?”

“They have, half an hour ago. The cure has been administered. We’re waiting. I’m to join them shortly.”

Spock’s right eyebrow climbed his puzzled forehead.

“What keeps you Sir? One would think...”

“Spock I want my memory fully restored.”

“An understandable request, Captain... Unfortunately your brain has suffered severe hypoxemia for hours, it will take time... I trust Doctor McCoy has explained to you ...”

“I want the memory your stole...wait...that came out wrong since you Vulcans don’t lie...or cheat...or steal... let’s say, the memory you kept safe for me.”

Spock remained speechless while blood ebbed from his even paler face. Kirk’s eyes were storming.

“What? You though I would never figure out?”

“Not that soon.”

Kirk walked up to his first officer, looked him right in the eye.

“Don’t sweat it Spock, I just want my memory back.”

“I’m sorry Captain.”

Kirk staggered.

“Come again?”

“I can’t give it back to you. Not now. Not yet.”

“Say you don’t want to! But you’ll decide otherwise! I have proof! I have pictures! The Starfleet won’t let this go unpunished...”

“I removed it for your own good.”

“Why I shall be the judge of that! (The captain uttered a quiet laughter.) My own good... Now what am I? A child? What makes you think you can take such decisions for me?”

“I’m your friend...”

The captain brandished a threatening finger between them, anger twisting his features. He raised his voice hysterically.

“I forbid you ever to use that word! Hear me? In my heart, I named you brother. Now where were you when I most needed you? When I fought to recover from my injuries? Alone...Oh, you saved my life, all right! You fulfilled your goddamn duty! And then what? You thought you could just... erase the pain? Like I was some kind of computer? Well guess what, it doesn’t work like that! I...”

Without notice, the Vulcan hastened to him and sank fingers in his face.

Flashbacks charged his mind like a wild bison herd. He remembered everything. Spock. Spock inside him. Their bodies and consciences intertwined. The bliss. The cold. The pain. McCoy... The emptiness. The pain.

Spock helped him to the nearest chair. He collapsed in it, sweat beading his forehead and tears running uncontrollably. His breath had turned to a succession of harsh gasps. The Vulcan bent down next to him, hands on the armrests. Kirk stammered:

“The...the...The b...The baby...The baby...Our...baby!”

“Was but a foetus. You were too weak, your injuries too severe. You couldn’t sustain the pregnancy.”

“Hence...the emotional outbursts, the tears, the mood swings, the flashes of temper...”

“The latter is nothing new actually... but...indeed, the abrupt dip in the hormones level works against you... ”

Kirk gazed at the Vulcan with drowning eyes.

“Spock, why would you take this from me?”

“You were not recovering, Sir. You were sinking. I thought it would alleviate your grief.”

“Maybe I ...needed time... to... adjust.”

“You are no house wife, Sir. You are a Starship Captain.”

“And...the rest... What we shared inside this creature... For days I thought I was losing it, I saw myself growing mad, ending up into some... lunatic asylum... This incomprehensible attraction I felt for you, coming out of the blue... It’s ripened in such an obsession...”

“It’s of no account, Captain. A side effect, merely, engendered by everything you have endured. In time it’ll wear off.”

“I see. So... everything is back to normal?”

“Yes Sir.”

Kirk long stared at the exotic features, at the voluptuous mouth, at the square jaw, at the velvet lashes. What had happened began to feel like a dream, a dubious construction of his imagination. Maybe he could... bury it in a corner of his mind and... make do with friendship? mere friendship... Only his heart was stubborn. It wouldn’t keep quiet. He remembered the taste of those lips, the smell of this hair, how it felt to brush and caress it. And these hands... he knew what they could do... let alone the most alien part of his first officer’s body...

“What if... I wanted more?”

Spock lifted that tantalizing brow. It was a dagger digging Kirk’s chest.

“More? More what Sir?

Kirk’s voice sank to a whisper. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say:

“More of it, more of ... you.”

“You know I’m already unlimitedly yours, Captain. If there’s anything I can do...”

“That’s not what I...”(Oh you understand perfectly well, Spock! I can see it in your eyes, you’re just pretending not to...) “Never mind, inform Scotty that I will be beaming down within a quarter.”

“I will. Are you all right, Sir?”

“What do you think?” (Kirk pressed his fingers against his eyeballs) “I’m...I’m fine, I just ...I think I need a moment.”

“As you wish Sir.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Coordinates set, Sir.”

“Energize.”

Kirk found himself in a vast room bathing in the dramatic daylight falling from tall sliding glass doors. The king was waiting there, anxiety fighting hope on his wrinkled but august dark face. His golden gown shimmered painfully when the old man rushed to his guest and friend.

“How is she?” Kirk asked straightaway.

“I don’t know yet, Your Doctor has been rather elusive thus far...Oh James, I had already resigned myself, I was in peace and so was she. Now...”

“Brunnen, we had to try, go for the faintest hope... hadn’t we?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful and forever will be. Regardless. But these last hours have been a torture.”

Kirk sighed in compassion.

“The men who elaborated this cure not only are my dearest friends. They are stupendous minds. I have all faith in them. If anyone can save your daughter...”

The king acquiesced, his white hair and beard foaming around his sagged features. He led the captain to the terrace, where an invigorating breeze blew from the sea.

In the still young morning, the city gradually emerged from its case of mist, indescribable magnificence, jewel with a thousand facets haloed by the pink foggy light of dawn.

Far off, splitting the horizon in a multitude of pixels, sprang the force field which protected the realm from unwanted visitors as well as from stellar radiations.

Kirk filled his lungs with the sea spray coming from the high waves fringed by green foam. The sun hurled of its magenta beams concentrated by the millions of lenses swimming on the surface of the Ocean. Flying squids in migration northward began to suspend their flight over the boats, swirling as a bench of starving gulls.

The captain’s glance ran over the quays blocked by monumental boxes. It then plunged into the secret of creeks with their red willows bending over the emerald surface, their sheaves of fair reeds and their flat rocks used as diving board by emboldened children.

Oh, he liked this peaceful corner, outside of time, silent as an image in an album. He had kissed someone in this very place...

From the port, Celée unfolded like a fan, brand new and thriving, radiant of whiteness and modernity, proud of its exceptional geographical situation. It was an impressive display of up-to-date architecture, with its crowded flying platforms and its vegetal towers growing a level each year.

By wrinkling his eyes, the captain could distinguish the pedestrians forced to slalom between the peddlers and shops invading the lower pavements. He could almost hear the sellers hailing the passers-by, proposing bags of crocodile droppings, or offering free tastings of “Ol’worm wee”.

It was however necessary to flee the feverish excitement of the centre and to follow the whimsical meanders of the supersonic monorail to discover the megalopolis strategic areas, scattered in the heart of a fertile basin where the surrounding valleys converged. The military camp, the cultural centre, the districts of craftsmen and, bordered by a forest of electric ferns, the stylised bowl of the arena.

Kirk hijacked his eyes. He had missed everything. Everything except the frenzy which claimed all city-dwellers on the occasion of lizard fighting. The tournaments could spread out on whole seasons, bloody, murderous and degrading. He withheld a sudden jerk. The susceptibility of the sovereign had to be dealt with carefully if the Federation was to establish a durable relationship with the realm.

“Jim.”

Kirk spun on his heels, faced McCoy coming out of the Princess’s room. A middle-aged woman dressed in black and silver was behind him. The embroidered dragon on her collar made her the highest graded physician in the City.

“Bones, how is she?”

The Doctor grinned, reassuring.

“Well I’m no soothsayer but she’s young and strong. The cure has worked beautifully. She may experience a few side effects, such as dizziness or fatigue, for a day or two but... aside from that...”

A never-ending smile tearing his face, Kirk grabbed his friend’s shoulders.

“I knew it! I just knew it! Bones, you’re a genius! Can I see her... or,” (He restrained himself, turning toward the King) “Maybe, you should go first.”

The old man shook his head, struggling with tears of relief and happiness. He croaked:

“No, you, you first. I know she’s eager to see you.”

Kirk inhaled deeply, unable to contain his joy.

“Jim, she’s still weak, I gave her a stimulant but it will take a couple of hours until she recovers completely.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long. And... Great job, Bones, I can’t begin to tell you...”

McCoy shrugged, embarrassed.

“I merely did my job, nothing heroic here.”

The Celean doctor took a step forward.

“Allow me to disagree, dear colleague, you achieved here a major breakthrough. Not only did you save the Princess’s life but, along with it, the life of thousands of Celeans who had no hope before today. We might even achieve an alliance with our neighbours, based on this medicine we intend to freely share.”

The king walked up to the physician. He was not bothering to conceal his tears anymore. Waterfalls running down his crumpled cheeks, he took the McCoy’s hands and squeezed them fervently.

“You deserve more than praise, you valiant pathfinder! Friend of the Realm and friend of the King! You deserve... our eternal gratitude. For this you shall be awarded our country’s highest civilian honour. The root of Gul’Aa, God of wisdom and protector of Celée.”

McCoy obviously didn’t know where to stand.

“Your Majesty, I can assure you...”

Kirk patted his friend on the shoulder.

“Come on Bones! Enough modesty! This is the result of hours... what I am talking about? Weeks! Of rough, tireless work and devotion. Not to mention keen intelligence, of course!”

“Jim I...”

The Celean physician laid a supportive hand on McCoy’s arm.

“I see the sadness in your eyes...I understand... and I share it. It is very unfortunate and so unfair indeed that an unborn child had to die for this miracle to be allowed. But the gods’ ways often prove uncanny. Who is to say this child was not conceived for this very purpose? Think if anything can soothe you that his cells will go on living inside the cured ones.”

Kirk was not sure he grabbed the essence of the speech. Some loathsome revolting and impossible infringement seemed to be lurking behind these words. But no friend of his could have betrayed him so carelessly. Right? McCoy’s guilty expression dashed his last delusion.

Kirk felt like someone was pouring molten metal in his chest. A violent nausea squeezed his stomach. His chin quivered when he replied, his voice as low and threatening as a muffled growl:

“Yes I’m certain the thought is going to be of great comfort for... the child’s parents.” (His eyes firing photon torpedoes, he glared at McCoy while going on) “But...forgive me, I...as I’m not a scientist, I somehow fail to understand how a dead foetus could have saved the Princess.”

“Well,” (The Celean doctor’s glance bounced from Kirk to McCoy, and back, puzzled) “One would think you had already been explained this, Captain.”

“Yes... one could...Don’t you agree, Doctor McCoy?”

“I’m so...so sorry. I meant to tell you Jim, but I...”

“It’s Captain, for you... I’ll see you on board... medical officer.”

Kirk swallowed the insults pressing behind his lips. He turned towards the king, forced an affable smile.

“What about the three of us go to her bedside together? Doctor Mayan, I’m all ears.”

He caught the bewildered look the king and his doctor exchanged. So much for diplomacy... But he couldn’t care less. Nothing mattered anymore. He had lost both his closest friends in a single day. Or should he never have called them that?

He followed the doctor while she endeavoured to outline the natural history of the Princess’s illness.

“Surely you have been explained, months ago, that our beloved Princess had undergone a viral infection which disturbed her immune system... Her antibodies would attack her own organs and vessels and bit by bit destroy them. Our only medicine thus far was about weakening her immune defences, which of course left her utterly helpless in front of the slightest infection. Any how, she was condemned to a more or less brief lifespan.”

Kirk nodded.

“The trick, the miracle, came with this foetus, this unconceivable chimera -the origin of which remains a complete mystery to me- composed of a mosaic of cells, meaning cells containing different genetic materials, and yet cooperating to sustain a perfectly viable organism without ever attacking one another.”

“How is this even possible?”

“Oh, it always was , but not with such incompatible sets of DNA...Doctor McCoy has discovered a very peculiar type of cells: buffer-cells, which would slide between the others, preventing any confrontation. Neutral mediators if these terms are more understandable for a warrior like you.”

“I... think I get it. The very same cells are now building some sort of... shield... screen... to protect the Princess's organs from their assailant.”

The physician granted him a warm grin.

« I'm impressed, Captain. »

Despite his arthritis, the King had walked past them in the wide corridor which led to the princess's quarters. He disappeared in her room and a gush of joy spilled out, almost tangible.

Kirk found the King sitting beside his daughter, both his knotted hands grasping her lean forearm.

The Captain froze on the doorstep. God! She was beautiful! Could she really have been ill?

She was wearing but a loincloth and a collar necklace encrusted with opals, and sapphires. Her long languid body dappled in silky sheets was a welcoming land of soft hills and tantalizing valleys. She moved to sit up and the feline muscles raced under the splendid bluish-black skin. With a filled-with-sensuality gesture, she swept her luxuriant mane off her sculptural face and arched her back, thereby lifting her provocative taut breast. Her panther-like eyes stared at the captain, stirring him up.

“Won't you come and kiss me, my golden earthen? I feel I have to repay you in kind.”

He came up to her and bent forward to pluck a quick kiss. She threw her arms around his neck in search for more. Kirk cleared his throat.

“Maybe... not in front of your father.”

She burst out a loud laugh... her teeth were a bead row.

“You earthens! ever so prude! Daddy?”

The king stroked his daughter's cheek lovingly, stood up and headed for the door.

“I've already overstepped my rights. I shall not interfere any further between such lovebirds.”

“Captain... James, I... plan to turn the funeral into a root award ceremony dedicated to your gifted and so devoted medical officer. Do you... have any... objection?”

A flush assaulted the captain's face.

“No... No objection whatsoever. He very much deserves it.”

“Then so be it.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The agonizing sun was spilling blood all over the Ocean. A pack of squids were putting on a show, walking on the water, with their tentacles pushing.

Far off, the nine moons began to appear. They emerged from the water, one after the other, bringing to mind a huge pearl necklace.

After a few strokes, Celina reached the shore and her splendid body emerged from the water, dripping with golden light. As she came nearer, Kirk could feast his eyes on her sensual rolling gait.

She lay down beside him. They were both naked and basking in the mystical haloes of the dusk. The sand was warm and creamy-smooth and so was her skin. Paradise was right here, within reach.

Kirk twisted his neck to observe her flawless profile. Everything he ever wanted was right here. Peace. Happiness. And love.

He gazed up, although he knew his ship could not be seen from the ground. Had he been stupid! What on the Enterprise required so much dedication? Any Starfleet captain could take over and perform just as well. The Enterprise was a whore. She would give herself to anyone, and certainly wouldn’t miss him. No one there would miss him. None of his may-they-all-rot-in-hell crewmen.

Besides, he had had his share of adventure and thrill. And for the first time in his career, he felt tired. He wanted what normal people had. A companion, a partner for life. Someone he could cuddle up with to just... watch the stars at night.

“I love you, she murmured without looking at him.”

She went on in a row.

“You needn’t to answer; I know your true lover is up there.”

Kirk belched.

“What are you talking...”

“Your ship! I saw your eyes, just a second ago. I wish you would look at me like that!”

Kirk signed:

“There is no competition.”

“None indeed.”

“I mean... I was thinking... maybe I’ve had enough. Maybe it’s time... for me to settle and...begin a new life...a real...life... here...with you.”

Celina sat up, turned toward him, cocked her head left and narrowed her eyes in disbelief.

“You mean you’d give it all up, just to...stay here with me?”

“It crossed my mind. It wouldn’t exactly be a torture, you know...”

The Princess gazed at the vastness rippling in front of them. She shook her head with a sad smile.

“You should take time to think it over. It’s not... consistent with everything I know about you.”

“People can change.”

“Yes, something has changed. I sensed it. Something happened that has hurt you more than you would confess.”

Kirk’s eyes fled her inquisition.

“Celina, believe me I’m through. I want this life you’re offering me. I’m ready to turn my back on Starfleet and all the rest.”

“It’s actually the rest that worries me. Jim...” (She shushed him with a finger) “Let’s not talk about this until whatever wound you got yourself is healed. Promise me.”

Kirk nodded and dropped another heavy sigh.

“I suppose I should get back to the Enterprise and dress up for the ceremony.”

“You sound like you’d rather have your dick chopped off.”

“Is this how a princess is supposed to talk?”

She chuckled before arguing.

“Is this how a princess is supposed to behave? I can’t remember a single objection, though.”

The captain of the Enterprise stroked the Celean princess’s hair, dreamingly.

Yes, he had to beam back aboard. And yes, he’d rather have his dick chopped off.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The captain took a few steps back to assess his reflexion in the holo-mirror. He gestured at the camera to have his avatar turned around. Not bad. A little kitsch, of course... well definitely kitsch. The Celean knew very few about Earth. They thought people there still wore flares and platform shoes. He had tried to disabuse them of that notion. As a result, he was now encased in a dark tuxedo that hampered his every movement.

He shook his head in capitulation and turned the mirror off. He walked to his desk and the virtual screen sprang from the table.

His letter of resignation danced before his eyes. He never thought he would one day willingly leave this life, this ship, this golden shirt hanging on his wardrobe door.

He caressed the “send” button.

The entrance door slid open and McCoy stepped in.

Kirk stood up, his face like a rock cliff.

“Who gave you permission?”

“I took it.”

“You have a bit of a cheek... Well I’ll grant you that! You finally found your way to the top. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were shortly promoted and awarded a Nobel Prize. And I thought you were not the ambitious type. As you can go wrong!”

“I’m your friend.”

“Oh get off my face! I’ve had enough friendship for one day, thank you.”

“Jim...Captain... you are being unjust. Your grief clouds your judgement.”

“Really?”

“We were short on time and options. We couldn’t wait until your awakening. The foetus was clinically dead and...Celina was about to die too. What is it exactly you blame on us?”

“And who is us?”

“Spock and I...”

Kirk giggled icily.

“Spock of course... I noticed the two of you seem to have...put aside your differences. You’re like... pals now or something!”

Bones came closer. He had not yet prepared himself for the ceremony. His eyes were like the water after a storm. Troubled with concern but still spilling unwavering integrity and loyalty.

“You think this has been easy on him, having to choose between you and the baby?

Kirk frowned.

“What do you mean, choose?”

“He brought you back in an ugly shape, but you already know that. We could life-support you until the delivery. But you couldn’t sustain the pregnancy and live. Spock had to choose.”

“Why him?”

“Because...he was the father?”

Kirk shrugged.

“Spock is bleak-hearted, if he does have a heart that is... He knows nothing about parenthood or...love...of course he chose me, in the interest of the Enterprise.”

“Actually this was nowhere near the logical choice. You’ll find that the Starfleet had already given up on you. A brand-new-all-functional captain was on his way to take over. Spock is the one who insisted they should wait and leave you a chance to recover.”

Kirk perched himself on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms.

“I had no idea...”

“As for his not knowing anything about love... He’s been watching you every single night, personally nursing and bathing you every day during your coma, clutching at every free second to come to sickbay or enquire about you. If you ask me, this very much looks like love. He’s a Vulcan for God’s sake! I mean what do you expect? A ring?”

Kirk grinned in spite of himself.

“Call me old fashioned...” (He sighed wearily) “I am that obvious?”

The Doctor smiled back.

“You should have seen you face the first time you laid eyes on him. You should see you face every time you look at him.”

The Captain swallowed his lips. This habit of letting tears out was starting to upset him. He fought it almost to suffocation.

“I’m sorry Bones, I shouldn’t have blamed it on you. You did...exactly what you had to do... And I’m... grateful. And so... proud of you. Of you both. But...why didn’t you tell me when I woke up?”

“You were grief-stricken and crumbling, I meant to spare you until... you were strong enough to take it.”

Kirk nodded.

“Anyway this doesn’t really matter anymore. As you see, I was about to send my resignation letter.”

“You gotta be kidding!” Bones barked, outraged.

“Celena is my best chance to fulfil my dreams. She loves me, I can achieve peace here. I know what you’re about to say but...Spock can never, ever...feel the way that I do, he can never share anything with me...and I need more.”

“I’m not letting you do that!”

“Of course not! Happiness is so overrated!”

“Jim...Delusion does not suit you. I know you by heart.”

“Or so you think.”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for such a brief time... This is your thing, you thrive on adventure! And the Fleet needs you!”

“Oh come on, I’m sure the universe can turn without me...”

“I’m begging you to reconsider, don’t act rashly! Half the women in the cosmos are enamoured with you! And the other half is just not yet aware of your existence...You have shared more with Spock than a married couple could in a million years! Remember Leila on Omicron Seti III, Droxine on Ardana... He too had more than one occasion to just settle on some heavenly planet with a groupie at his feet!” (McCoy pleaded with his usual passion, both hands punctuating his fiery speech) “What, or should I ask, who do you think kept him? Has it occurred to you, that...as a half-breed, he is very likely to prove sterile? While you certainly have spread your spring-off all over the universe, he gave up his one chance to ever procreate. After which he watched me slice up his son... to save the one he thought you might be in love with...All... for you. Ok, the universe does not revolve around you but... Spock does. Now the real question is: what are you willing to sacrifice for him? How much do you love him?”

Kirk stood up and knotted his fists on his rump. He didn’t want to know how much he loved Spock. The answer frightened him.

“I’ve tried Bones, I’ve tried my best. We’re not meant for each other.”

“Bullshit!”

“Enough! My decision stands. You’d better dress up to attend your medal...root...whatever award ceremony. It will not be said that we earthen are rude or lack savoir vivre. See you there.”

“Jim?”

Kirk raised an eyebrow. Bones stretched his lips in irritation.

“Does not Spock own some... copyright for this brow-lift?”

“Probably.”

Bones inhaled deeply.

“Jim...Are we still friends?”

“I’ll miss you Bones. I will.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A ripple of applause greeted the earthen doctor’s speech. Wearing the twisted gold root like a tiara, he majestically climbed down the stage wavering like a beauty queen.

The pulpit stood on a vast circular platform the floor of which was so perfectly polished it mimicked a pool. Half a dozen similar discs levitated around it, regularly touching to allow the guests to move from one to the other. For the occasion, the traditional self-guided flying lamps had been replaced by huge mirror balls and it was raining jewels of light. Thankfully, no one had extended the bad taste to disco music or glittering jackets.

Kirk sat down and gazed at Celina as she slalomed between her subjects, greeting them and laughing with them like they were family. Her relaxed hair, disciplined into a French roll, revealed her elegant cheekbones. Her white satin sheath gown enhanced her wasp waist and her breath-taking legs. She came up and sat next to him.

The party was already in full swing. The champagne flowed in abundance while clouds of smoke coalesced over the dancers. Flashes of wit and ostentations smiles were drowned out by rock ballads and romantic songs.

“What do you think, A kick-ass party, ain’t it?”

Kirk cringed.

“You need to stop reading these earthen novels, seriously!”

“Actually I picked it up from a TV show.”

“The phrase or the scene?”

“Both! Come on, we’re here to celebrate and relax. This should have been my funeral, remember? It’s like a dream. Moving, breathing again without thinking about it. And having you, even for a single night...”

“Life is short, I realise that now. I’m retiring Celena.”

“I thought we wouldn’t talk about that.”

“I merely wanted to...”

“Come!”

She jumped on her feet and made him get up. She pressed up against him. She cooed:

“I feel like dancing.”

“Look I...you see... the thing is... (He giggled, ill at ease...) I never learnt...how to. I have two left feet.”

“Cold feet, is how I call it! Oh come on...I don’t care! I just want to drift on the music with you...”

“Celena, I...”

« Hush! Follow me!”

Kirk complied dully. She embraced him and started by a few simple steps.

“Look, it’s easy, mirror me and follow me.”

“I don’t know...”

For a man who was usually very preoccupied with his self image, the lesson quickly turned into a torture. He felt fat and clumsy. He would think left and his foot would go forward. He would mean to turn around and he would crush his partner’s toes. People would see him as a puppet with dishevelled strings. After a while, he gently pushed her away.

“I’m sorry, Celina”

She acquiesced with a comforting grin.

“You’re not that bad. All you need is a little practice, I’m sure...”

The loud crash of fireworks tearing the night covered her voice. Huge vivid flowers blossomed over their heads. The crowd gathered around the main platform to contemplate the show. Celena cried out:

“Look! We have our own kind of fireworks, here!”

Indeed, the technicians were now blowing into long tubes, inflating giant bubbles, each one encasing a faint glow. In no time, hundreds of those transparent balloons graciously rose up into the air, taking their throbbing spark away to the starry immensity.

“It symbolizes the spirits of the ones who left this world.”

“I figured. It’s beautiful...”

For no obvious reason, a chill crawled under his nape’s skin. Kirk turned around. And what he saw... paralysed his diaphragm.

Spock was standing there, alone on a deserted platform. He was heart-stoppingly handsome, his jet black hair drawn back, his chin lifted in a proud dignified carriage, his right eyebrow stretched up in a sassy stare. The black tuxedo he wore looked like an extra skin, designed to emphasize every relief of his athletic body. He stepped forward. The optic illusion made him appear to walk on water. He halted in the middle of the platform and held a hand out in invitation.

Mesmerized, Kirk walked up to him. For almost a minute, they faced each other quietly.

“You came, Kirk dropped in a breath.”

“Obviously. Would you care to dance?”

“I...I...I don’t...We can’t even hear the music.”

Spock bent forward and murmured to his ear.

“We don’t need the music.”

The Vulcan straightened up and dove into the human’s eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

As he said these words, a shy tone knocked at his mind’s door. He allowed it in, along with a fleeting tune which imposed its rhythm on his feet.

Spock moved his left foot backwards and Kirk’s right leg followed as though both were connected by an invisible thread. The Vulcan performed a suite of quick tiny steps and so did his partner, in flawless harmony and synchronization.

They stopped, remained motionless for several eternities, smiling knowingly at each other beneath the nine opalescent moons.

Kirk settled his left hand on his guide’s right palm and drew himself closer. Bodies and eyes fitting perfectly, they started to revolve around the platform like a couple of black swans involved in a courtship ritual. Their movements were sometimes slow and slithery, and other times sharp and swift but ever easy and natural.

Gliding in the Vulcan’s arms was exhilarating. Kirk felt like he was flying. All he could see was his friend-lover’s eyes reflecting the flickering glows in suspension around them.

All he could feel, as their pelvises rubbed, was...Oh God! When would this damn song end?

Spock raised a hand to make his partner swirl around him. After which he plucked him back, and made him fall over his arm, bust and head dramatically arched backwards. When Kirk straightened up, a kiss rewarded him. A long, stirring promising kiss.

Still holding on, Spock inquired.

“Is this what you wanted? What you expect from a lover?”

The captain frowned:

“Have you been talking to Bones?”

“I fail to see the relevance Captain...”

Kirk beamed naughtily at his first officer.

“Well it’s a start. What else do you have in stock?”

Spock slid a finger inside his captain’s jacket and stroked a nipple.

“I could take you to my store for a free demonstration.”

For a split second, Kirk thought maybe he had something to do before. They had drawn attention. The guests, the King, the Princess had been watching, although he wouldn’t know about their presence. Wouldn’t care. His eyes spotted the young woman’s. He read pain. And understanding, and forgiveness. He activated his communicator.

“Kirk here. Two to beam up.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The two officers materialized on the transporter platform, holding hands. The crewman on duty daren’t stare but his eyes were as big as plates by the time his superiors went through the exit door.

They kept holding hands all the way to Spock’s quarters, causing heads to turn in an atmosphere of stifled giggles and intrigued glances.

Once in the warm shelter of The Vulcan’s room, Kirk burst out laughing uncontrollably.

“Have you noticed the crewman’s face when we beamed back on board, holding hands? His expression? And the others? How they gaped? Priceless!”

Spock was not laughing or smiling. He dimmed the lights, pushed the human up against the nearest wall and stood before him, his face sculpted in chiaroscuro: his eyes were devouring his mate. The intensity of his gaze was the most powerful aphrodisiac. Aroused like never before, Kirk peeled Spock’s jacket off and started to unbutton his lover’s waistcoat. It resisted. Unwilling to wait, Spock tore his own clothes off and did the same with Kirk’s. His strength, his ardour, his passion increased the captain’s excitation. When the Vulcan captured the human’s jaw and pressed a thumb on his lips to spread them, Kirk gasped. Spock’s kiss was as always half honey and half chilli and a hundred percent mind-blowing.

Their mouths parted while their foreheads and noses brushed. Kirk gave his partner a sly look.

“I meant to ask... I... want to know how it feels...to go inside you...”(He stared straight in the Vulcan’s eyes, boldly.) “and... to come...inside you.”

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?”

The captain frowned, wondering what he was about to sign for.

“I...er... hope so...”

“Let’s shift position.”

Spock leant against the wall with both hands while Kirk circumvented him. The human hesitated. He felt like a teen on his first time. The alien’s back was a stupendous mountain of entangled muscles. He caressed them with a trembling hand. Clumsily, he grabbed the taut buttocks, seeking his path between them. He paused.

“Maybe I need some...”

“You don’t need anything. Just...come in.”

Kirk complied although he was terrified. What was lurking there? A monstrous mouth? A Guillotine?

He cautiously slipped in the self-lubricating tunnel. A spasm claimed his body while gooseflesh raced from his pubis to each of his extremities. As he slid back and forth, the tight sphincter contracted itself rhythmically. Kirk sank his nails and teeth in his mate’s shoulders. Spock dropped his head backwards in complete abandonment and the human buried his face in the silky hair. Their groans of mutual pleasure entwined.

This is when Kirk felt it. This other peculiarity of Vulcan anatomy. It was there again, the alien penis, grabbing the human’s organ from the inside, performing some sort of... when-did-I-die-and-went-to-heaven hand job... Out of control and on the edge of climax, Kirk scratched and bit every piece of skin he could reach. The ministries stopped abruptly.

“Again! Spock!”

“Don’t worry Captain, the show is not over yet.”

Something brushed against the human’s testicles, sneaked between his legs and buttocks. Spock twisted his torso and neck:

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“This is very likely to hurt again.”

“I want the pain too.”

The broad-headed snake of flesh worked its way towards its target. And penetrated the warmth and the moist. Kirk let out a yell. His vision blurred. His knees buckled under the onslaught.

“Are you alright?”

Kirk stifled a yelp, answered with a hoarse stumbling voice:

“Is t...this... all...a...all you...you have?”

It took him some time to come over. Feeling Spock’s anus around his cock and feeling Spock’s dick in his ass was tricking his senses, luring them to an insane illusion that he was actually fucking himself... Wait a minute! The concept drove him berserk. No! No way! This time, he was leading the dance. He was deciding and imposing rules! He was the captain, wasn’t he? Fuck anatomy!

He pounded deliriously and tightened his thighs to modulate the pressure around the reckless appendage. The shaft between his legs convulsed in answer. In retaliation, Spock grabbed his own bottom and kneaded it to encase and massage the external portion of the human’s limb.

Kirk smirked, senses overloaded, but still in the competition. He imitated his partner and added some anal contractions and pelvic oscillations. But, surprisingly, this new strategy worked against him, providing new unexpected sensations. Sparkles of pleasure set fire in his penis, in his prostate and in his rectum simultaneously, soon turning his pelvic into a raging blaze. Multifocal orgasm started to ferment in his belly, threatening to shatter it out.

This is when Spock struck the coup de grâce. He shoved a treacherous hand between them and pressed down on his lower abdomen where his bladder lay full and defenceless. By so doing, the Vulcan managed to trigger the doomsday explosion.

Kirk almost passed out. His heart and muscles staggered as though electrocuted. Panting like a fish out of the water, he clutched at his partner’s shoulders not to collapse. Attempting an ultimate counterattack, he distilled a few disloyal syllables in his lover’s ear. Spock instantly lost control and they ejaculated in perfect synchronisation, the jerks of one partner amplifying the sensations of the other.

They slowly detangled before joining the comforting softness of Spock’s bed. Under the sheets, Kirk wrapped himself in his lover’s arms, enjoying the heat of the vulcan’s breath in his neck.

And he thought he knew what love was... all these years, going through women like a tornado, unable to settle, blaming it on his duty. But it was never his duty...or the Enterprise...

A shudder ran through him.

“Are you cold?”

“How could I be? You’re hot as hell!... And so is you skin...”

“Captain...”

“Jim...”

“Jim...what you said, just before we... came...did I imagine it?”

“You mean me pronouncing your Vulcan name?”

“So it was real.”

“You bet it was! I’ve been training for years! I was not even sure I had mastered it. Until I got material proof...”

Spock caressed his mate’s cheek and gazed lovingly in the hazel eyes. Kirk smiled proudly:

“Are you...” (He shrugged his eyebrows) “fascinated?”

“How did you guess?” (Spock paused before asking) “So... what are you going to do?”

“You mean aside from writing a sequel to the Kama Sutra?”

“I mean about your resignation.”

The human’s face darkened.

“So this is what all this was about? Your... coming up with le grand jeu?”

“Partially.”

Kirk turned on his left side and rose up on his elbow so he could face his lover.

“Spock, I need to know... I need to know this is not a one-night stand, that this really means something and will still mean something tomorrow. I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning, every damn morning of my life! So far I’ve been a Don Juan, I’ll grant you that, but... now this is over, I do crave the belonging.”

“I’m not the jealous type, Captain.”

“Turns out I am.” (His voice was like dibernium) “Look if this is going to work... I want you for myself. All of you. Every bit. I won’t share.”

“I already said I was unlimitedly yours. I can add entirely.”

“Good. I stay.”

“Are you satisfied now...Jim?”

Kirk dove into his lover’s abyssal eyes. He wished he could forever plummet into them. The whole I-want-someone-I-can-cuddle-up-with-to-watch-the-stars thing now felt altogether irrelevant. He knew he didn’t need anything else, for the only universe that mattered was right there.

“Satisfied, eh?” (Kirk pouted) “Not quite. Ask me again in a million years. But I dread I can never have enough of you."

The End.