November 2023 NaNoWriMo: Hope in our hearts, reflected in the stars

[marcicatverse]

Title: Hope in our hearts, reflected in the stars
Author: marcicat

Fandom: Star Trek: Strange New Worlds; Star Trek
Rating: T

Summary: In an alternate universe, the circumstances might be different, but the same people tend to find each other. (aka: An AU Kirk and Spock encounter a variety of spatial anomalies, meet up with new friends and current family, and have a wedding. Also featuring: pirates, dragons, a time loop, truth pollen, and far too many caves.)

Characters: Spock, James Kirk, La’an Noonien Singh, T'Pring, Stonn, Christine Chapel, Sybok, Michael Burnham, Christopher Pike, Erika Ortegas, Nyota Uhura

Tags: AU, family, found family, marriage, dragons, cats, genetic modification, unexpected temporary de-aging, time loop, asteroids, storytelling, communication




*******

“T’Pring reports the Council has requested another change to their planned departure time.”

Spock’s tone was in the vicinity of ‘mildly perturbed,’ but Jim could feel the very real irritation simmering in the bond. “Another delay?” he asked. “At this rate, we’re going to figure out all the mysteries of this place before they even make it off Vulcan.” He nodded towards the viewscreen, a blatant offer of distraction.

Spock gave him a look that said he was well aware of what Jim was doing, and he was only going along with it because the Council was too far away for his opinions to make any difference. “Our scans have yet to indicate the presence of any mysteries in this sub-sector.”

“Which is, even without any other evidence, unusual,” he answered, and Spock inclined his head in agreement. Space was chock full of mysteries; the odds that any particular sub-sector would be completely mystery-free were extremely low. “Besides, our scans are limited by their programming. We’re looking for anomalous readings based on previous anomalous readings. We have no idea what we might be missing.”

“This sub-sector was flagged during the war due to the high number of reports of unusual occurrences,” Spock acknowledged.

Jim pointed a finger at him. “Exactly!” The area wasn’t intersected by any major trade routes or warp lanes, and for a long time the war took priority over things like ‘why do all these weird reports keep popping up about this one particular bit of space.’ They’d marked off the whole area as ‘recommended to avoid’ and put it off to deal with when they had the resources.

In this case, ‘resources’ meant ‘two people eager enough for a break from their official duties that they’re willing to go wander around and see what they find.’ But really, it was there. Wasn’t that enough reason?

“You know,” he said idly. “The rumor on Human ships is that this sub-sector is haunted. Kind of like the Bermuda Triangle, back on Earth.”

He didn’t have to look to know that Spock’s eyebrow had gone up. “Scientific explanations have accounted for the occurrences of each of Earth’s ‘Bermuda Triangles.’”

That was true. “And yet that has not in any way stopped the rumors that they’re haunted.”

Spock cleared his throat. “Vulcans do not engage in rumors without scientific validation. Nor do they follow the Human habit of attributing the unknown to spirits and ghosts.”

Jim spun in his chair to look at him. “That is absolutely not true, and I dare you to say that to Sybok’s face and see what happens.” The old ‘Vulcans don’t lie’ adage was still popular, but most Vulcans were perfectly adept at lying; they just stated things with such solemnity that people tended to believe them anyway.

Spock’s expression hinted at a smile. “I expect Sybok would approve of the attempt, and then likely rate the execution. He has consistently espoused the benefits of recognizing multiple interpretations of a situation and assigning value to each of them. According to my brother, ‘the ability to offer a creative rendering of the truth is well worth cultivating.’”

“And you’ve been practicing,” Jim guessed.

“I have, yes,” Spock said easily. “However, it is not a misdirection to state that I do not believe this area of space to be haunted. Our scanners still have not detected anything outside normal parameters.”

Jim waved at the seemingly empty space in front of their shuttle. There was something out there, he was sure of it. “And yet Betazed still calls it The Compass. Centuries ago, their people traveled here as a coming of age journey, or as a path to seeking enlightenment. Their historical records describe it as a proving ground for those wishing to know their inner truth.”

“Centuries ago, Betazed coming of age journeys frequently involved the ingestion of mind-altering substances,” Spock countered. “Vulcan refers to it as sub-sector 023-epsilon-11.”

He paused, and then admitted, “It is true that anecdotal evidence indicates the number of unexplained phenomena linked to this area of space are above average by a statistically significant percentage. Colloquially, the sub-sector is referred to among Vulcan pilots as ‘weird.’”

Jim had heard that one too, along with several less value-neutral terms. “Well, when Vulcans are calling something weird, there’s got to be something worth investigating in there.”

Spock sighed. “Yes. Although I believe Sybok was one of the first to popularize the term, and he has never journeyed through this sub-sector.”

“That we know of, at least.” Generally speaking, plausible deniability was a winning strategy with anything Sybok was involved in. “Did I see a message come through from him too?”

“Yes. He has apologized for the Council’s delays, and stated that he has volunteered to involve himself if necessary.”

“If necessary?” Jim questioned. That didn’t sound like Sybok.

“He then amended that statement with, ‘or if I feel like making a scene,’” Spock said.

That was more like it. “Well, who am I to stop the First Prince from making a scene if he wants to?”

“It is one of his areas of strength,” Spock agreed. “It would be illogical to deny him the opportunity, and his assistance has been… supportive, thus far.”

Their bonding was one of Vulcan’s worst-kept secrets. Largely due to Sybok’s more or less constant allusions to it, but they made his support for the union undeniable. And where Vulcan’s First Prince led, the people followed. The Council, on the other hand—

“Eventually the Council is going to realize that keeping your official bondmates away is only giving us more unsupervised time together.”

“I expect that is their goal,” Spock said dryly. “This is likely intended as an encouragement for me to complete the remaining steps of the courtship.”

“Hey, I was ready to lock this down when we were teenagers.” He reached out and hooked their pinkies together, and Spock smiled. “You know, Sam always made fun of me for being so eager to meet you, but I like to think I was just ahead of the curve. I knew a good thing when I saw one.”

Spock nodded. “I was eager to meet you as well. My mother told us many stories about Earth, and what we might expect to encounter there.”

Vulcan and Earth had managed a tentative allyship for over a century, largely centered around ‘cultural exchange’ during the lulls in the ongoing conflict between Vulcan and Romulus. Earth’s government resisted any form of mutual defense pact, despite their own run-ins with the Romulans.

Until Vulcan started winning, and then it was Earth pushing for a treaty. By that time the Vulcan-Betazed alliance had already been firmly established with an arranged marriage between Vulcan’s First Prince and one of Betazed’s higher-ranked houses. Maybe Earth would be interested in an arrangement with Vulcan’s Second Prince, though?

Earth had been very interested. But the closest Earth could get to a ruling family was either a global celebrity or someone highly ranked in the Space Defense Fleet. George and Winona Kirk were prominent enough in the fleet hierarchy by that point to be considered close enough, and – conveniently, they happened to have two children.

Jimmy Kirk had become a media sensation practically overnight. Arrangements were made, meetings were broadcast, death threats were made (not by either of them, luckily). Jim was quietly shuffled out of the public eye, and – after a series of events he generally avoided talking about – he ultimately wound up on Vulcan, prepared to be officially married at any second.

And then, of course, the very same Earth government that had pushed him into an arranged betrothal dragged their feet and got everything put on hold, while they tried to negotiate for a stronger position in the Alliance. Earth gambled and lost, when Vulcan decisively won the war with Romulus while Earth was still arguing about the details. Only a handful of Human ships had even been involved in the fighting.

“Sam thinks Earth is planning to delay things as long as possible. They’re desperate to make the treaty hold, but they’re even more desperate to avoid admitting they’re in a worse position now than before.”

He could feel the warmth from the bond even before Spock said anything out loud. “Vulcan would never turn its back on its allies.”

“I know.” He also knew Spock could sense his uncertainty. “I only wish I had the same confidence in my own people.”

“Your people are my people,” Spock said calmly. “Vulcan will have its treaty with Earth, one way or another. The Council looks forward to welcoming you as one of our own. As do I.”

“As do I,” he agreed. He smiled, and gestured around the ship. “I’ve been looking forward to this for years. You, me, unknown space in front of us. No political commitments, no media, nothing to do but explore. We’re basically on our honeymoon.”

Jim leaned back in his chair, and then looked sideways at Spock. “I can feel you laughing at me.”

Spock looked back at him, half smile, half dare. “It is only that your list of requirements – technically speaking – could also be considered to be satisfied by the time directly following our bonding. A time I understand to be more traditionally associated with a honeymoon.”

Jim shook his head. “Nope. No. We are not counting that. You were concussed, and we were on the run from alien kidnappers.” He pointed at Spock. “Not that it didn’t have its moments. But in ideal circumstances, a honeymoon shouldn’t include a high probability of imminent death, amnesia, or capture by the Romulans.”

Spock pretended to give the statement due consideration, and then said, “I am not certain that you would recognize ideal circumstances, if you were ever to find yourself experiencing them.”

Jim laughed. “Part of me wants to be offended, but you know what? That’s fair.”

“I also note that you did not exclude crashing a ship or encountering previously unknown lifeforms, both of which also occurred during that time.”

He shrugged. Spock wasn’t wrong about ideal circumstances. Spending their sort-of honeymoon exploring weird sub-sectors of space probably meant that was never an option anyway. “Well, we can’t leave out all the fun options, right?”

Spock tugged gently on their linked fingers. “T’Pring has specifically requested that I extract a promise from you to not crash this shuttle. It is her favorite.”

He held up his free hand. “I promise to give my best effort at not crashing this shuttle. If she’s that worried about it, she should get here faster.”

“They will leave by the end of their day at the latest, even if Sybok involves himself.” Spock’s certainty soothed his nerves, and he willed his muscles to relax.

“Probability that he does?” He shook his head. “No, never mind; I don’t want to know.”

“A wise choice. I have found that Sybok and predictable probability do not often mix.” Spock picked up on his unspoken question, and added, “Yes, I have said that to him directly.”

“You know me so well. And I know that this right here? You and me, and the others on their way; exploring the stars? This feels pretty close to ideal to me.”

Spock looked from him to the viewscreen and back again. “I believe the saying about ‘tempting fate’ would be prudent to recall at this time.”

*******

It was never truly silent on a spaceship, but it was quiet enough that the sensor alert sounded loud. He shook himself out of his meditation and looked at Spock. “Status?”

“Sensors are detecting an unidentified ship. Single-person craft; minimal power. Engines appear to be offline.”

He frowned at the display. That was an awfully small ship to be out here on its own. “Life signs?”

“One,” Spock confirmed. “Apparently Human. Life support is functional. Power is low, but not dropping. The ship is broadcasting a distress signal, but has no obvious outward signs of damage. The signal is narrow band, short-range only, non-Allied. Configuration of the vessel is unfamiliar.”

“That’s an interesting choice for a distress signal.” It was a suspicious choice. Generally, people who wanted to be rescued wanted their signal to be easy to find. “A smuggler, maybe? Coded signal?”

“Indeed.”

It was entirely possible that whoever they’d stumbled upon had wound up in the same unpopulated sub-sector of space by complete coincidence. Especially since they seemed to be going to some effort to avoid attention from anyone in the Alliance of Federated Planets.

Of course, it was also possible that it was a trap. Still, a distress signal was a distress signal.

He tapped his fingers on the console. “Are we detecting any other ships in the area that they might be aiming that signal at?”

Spock shook his head. “Negative. With their level of power consumption, it is unlikely they have long-range scanners active. It is possible their short-range sensors are also inactive, as they have not yet reacted to our presence.”

Or it was a trap.

“It could also be a trap,” Spock acknowledged.

“Comms?”

“Sensors indicate their communications system is functional. Audio only.”

He took a breath, and sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Well. Shall we?”

They’d been counting on the remote location to shield them from anyone being around to recognize them. They were both in civilian clothes, and their shuttle was registered to the VSA. He could easily pass as unremarkable – Spock was the famous one, but even he was more identifiable in his other form. Still, if their mystery lifesign turned out to be a reporter, he was never going to hear the end of it from T’Pring.

Spock gestured towards the console, and he activated their comms. “Unidentified vessel, this is the Vulcan shuttle Le’Matya 7. We received your distress signal. What assistance do you require?”

There was a long silence. He locked eyes with Spock, who shrugged, and confirmed that their message had been received.

“Unidentified vessel,” he tried again. “Please respond if you’re able to do so.” He flipped the outgoing channel closed. “They could be injured? Maybe a species without verbal communication?”

“With limited information, any speculation would be inadvisable,” Spock replied. “Though I do not expect that will stop you.”

It definitely was not going to stop him. “Come on, Spock. You don’t want to make a guess?”

Spock had been raised to avoid anything as tactless as rolling his eyes, but he managed to communicate the same feeling with a simple head tilt. “As we are almost certainly going to investigate regardless, I do not see any purpose in ‘guessing.’”

Finally, the incoming channel lit up. ”Vulcan shuttle Le’Matya 7, this is the Manu. No assistance required. Please vacate the area.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Apologies, Manu, are you aware you’re broadcasting a distress signal?”

More silence.

Spock added, “Are you aware that broadcasting a distress signal under false pretenses is considered a violation of Allied law?”

The reply came more quickly that time. “I am very aware of that, yes. And it’s not being broadcast under false pretenses. I am – I’m in distress.”

He, on the other hand, came from a long line of proud eye-rollers and bullshit-callers. “Wow, don’t hurt yourself with that heartfelt plea. If you’re in distress, why did you advise us to leave instead of accepting assistance?”

“I’m looking for a very specific type of assistance. And I’ll toss in some advice for free – this isn’t a place to go around quoting Allied law if you’re looking to make friends. You might try Tellar Prime instead; I hear they’re big on that sort of thing.’”

“This location is well within Allied space,” Spock said. “I fail to see how expressing the legal guidelines of the environment would have any impact on interpersonal relationship building.”

There was a pause, and then – ”What are you, some kind of cop?”

“I am not,” Spock answered. The indignance was nearly a palpable aura around him, and Jim tried not to laugh.

“Also, you keep trying to get us to leave, but I’ll remind you that we were here first,” Jim added, just to see what response that would get.

There was a sigh. ”Fine. I’m part of an – anti-pirate taskforce, of sorts. I’m expecting to encounter a vessel of interest, and it would be best if outside variables were kept to a minimum.”

He was impressed that he and Spock had been reduced to ‘outside variables,’ and fairly certain the key part of their claim was the ‘of sorts.’ With enough creative interpretation, almost anyone could be said to be part of an anti-pirate taskforce. Even other pirates.

“So you’re a cop?” he asked, not bothering to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

Spock added, “There have been no reports of pirates operating in this sector.”

The proximity alarm blared, echoing back from the other end of the comm channel along with an exceptionally creative string of curses. A ship had dropped out of warp practically on top of them.

”You were saying?”

The ship was setting every one of his senses on edge. “Who are they?”

“Unknown,” Spock said tightly. “The ship’s hull is blocking our scans.”

”I told you; it’s pirates. The ship is a heavily modified Andorian stealth cruiser. Be quiet, and I’ll leave this channel open.”

They stayed quiet. Something – many things, actually – about the situation wasn’t adding up. Through the open channel, they heard their mystery lifesign accept an incoming hail.

They didn’t wait for any kind of greeting. ”Where is my ship?”

”Your ship?” He could hear the outrage even through the comms. ”What about my ships? What have you done to them?”

The response was immediate. “I haven’t done anything to your ships! We had an agreement! You failed to uphold your end of the bargain.”

Jim looked at Spock and raised his eyebrows.

“Why else would you have run away like a coward! You must have done something. And now you’re involving outsiders in our affairs!”

“I only ran because you started shooting at me! And I haven’t involved anyone; that ship showed up on its own. I was trying to get them to leave, and then you barged in like a fool.”

”A fool, you say! If you know nothing, and you have nothing, then our agreement is void.”

One of the comms connections cut out with a crackle of static, and Spock’s thoughts slid into his head. They are powering up weapons.

He spun the shuttle into a series of evasive maneuvers that would make it a challenge for anything to lock weapons on them.

“Get out of here!”

His words echoed strangely on the comm channel, and he realized their mystery lifesign had given them the same warning.

“The other ship has taken damage,” Spock said. “Engines offline. Shields are down. Critical systems failure is imminent.”

“Beam them out of there!”

They dropped under the cruiser just as the other ship started to break apart, and he heard the whine of the transporter beam. “You alive back there?” he called.

There was a groan. “Yes.”

The ship is now attempting to target us.

He forced his mind to stay separate enough to keep part of his focus on the conversation. “Do you want to stay that way?”

“Yes.” The irritation was clear in their tone. He ignored it, and took one hand off the controls long enough to point at the emergency gear marked on the hull.

“Great. Strap in, and put that on.”

“What? Why? What is it?”

So suspicious. “It’s a wearable spacesuit generator. Standard safety protocol on Vulcan ships.”

He leaned into a turn the inertial dampeners couldn’t quite compensate for, and heard the sounds of safety webbing activating. “Are you expecting the ship to lose atmosphere?”

“Not at this exact moment, but you can’t be too careful. I wasn’t expecting pirates, either.”

Anyone who’d seen Vulcans and Vulcan ships in an engagement with Romulan drones wouldn’t question the need. And anyone who even half-believed the rumors and conspiracy theories about Vulcans would have questioned it a lot more. He had no idea who that left. Someone who’d been living under a rock for their entire life?

The shuttle rocked under a barrage of phaser fire, but the shields held. Spock was diverting power between systems manually, faster than the computer could manage it, but the shuttle wasn’t designed to engage in a firefight. They couldn’t dodge forever.

Stay and fight, or make a run for the Compass and hope they don’t follow?

Run, Spock answered, before the question had even finished forming. Information flowed with it – one person couldn’t pilot the shuttle and also maintain the overpowered shields. (Under that thought, he wasn’t certain he could take out the cruiser, even shifted. And under that one, a fundamental truth: he didn’t want to kill anyone.)

He made sure Spock could feel his support and agreement, but he couldn’t resist teasing, just a little. And it’s T’Pring’s favorite shuttle.


*******

“Why are we still here? This ship must have warp capability.”

Most of his attention was taken up by coordinating with Spock, and the looming threat of the ship firing on them. Their scans of the sub-sector weren’t complete, and they were making a lot of guesses about what might be the fastest route to safety.

But he couldn’t help finding their guest distracting, and it wasn’t exactly a big shuttle. “It does,” he answered.

“Then why aren’t you using it? They’re not going to stop shooting at you, and they’re certainly not interested in hearing about the Alliance of Federated Planets rules of engagement.”

He spared a glance in her direction. “You’re awfully eager to go to a secondary location with us, for someone who was just trying to get us to leave them alone. Besides, we can’t use the warp engines right now. Power’s being diverted to other systems.”

She frowned, and shook her head. “Warp power doesn’t work like that.”

He turned back to the console. “Are you an expert in Vulcan engineering now? Remind me, of our two ships, which one of them has shields right now, and which one got blown up?”

Spock shifted power to the aft shields, and he rolled the ship orientation to match. “Besides, we don’t need warp engines to get where we’re going.”

“Which is?”

“We’re going in there.” He gestured at the viewscreen, which was helpfully displaying one of the warning buoys around the marked-off sub-sector.

There was a split-second pause, and then – “That’s a terrible idea.”

The ship dipped under another phaser bombardment, but the shockwave of too-close torpedo detonations made the hull shudder. Sparks flew from a nearby panel, and their guest flinched back.

“You have an objection?” he asked.

Alarms were lighting up the console faster than he could shut them off. If they couldn’t put some distance between themselves and the other ship, they were going to start taking real damage. Broadcasting a distress signal might get them some help, or it might just attract more trouble.

“Many,” their guest said, after another hesitation. “But I’d prefer not to die immediately, so I’ll put my objections on hold.”

“Good plan.”

They sped past the buoy that marked the edge of the sub-sector just as another torpedo detonated behind them, close enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. They weren’t going to be able to stay ahead of the shock wave, but if they were lucky it wouldn’t take out any of their essential systems.

“Shields are holding,” Spock said. “Impulse engines rebooting.”

Jim used their momentum to put the buoy between themselves and the attacking ship. He breathed a sigh of relief when the impulse engines were back online, and pushed the ship to go faster. The familiar hum of Spock and ship and stars felt grounding.

Seconds passed, but no phaser fire streaked past the view screen. No torpedoes appeared on the scanners. “Are they following?”

“Negative,” Spock said. “The other ship has disengaged and stopped pursuit at the buoy line.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s hope that’s a good sign.” He didn’t think it was, but there was nothing wrong with a little optimism.

“It’s not,” their guest said. “They either think you’re going to die in here on your own, or they’re waiting for reinforcements.”

“Well, you are just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” He leaned over to Spock’s side of the console and pretended to look at the displays. You’ll send a message to the others? I don’t like the idea of that ship lying in wait out there.

Spock nodded, and Jim spun his chair around so he could look at their guest. “So. Introductions. I’m James, most people call me Jim.” He hesitated, and then corrected it to, “Some people call me Jim. And this is Spock. And you are?”

“La’an.” She frowned. “Did you say Spock? As in, the Vulcan royal family Spock?”

Spock inclined his head slightly, while Jim gave a more exaggerated nod. “It is incredible how many people want to name their children after an actual prince, don’t you think?”

La’an looked back and forth between them. “Right. You know what, I don’t want to know.”

He couldn’t tell if she genuinely didn’t recognize them, or if she did but was willing to pretend she didn’t. It would probably be important at some point, especially if she was still around when the others showed up. Perfect reason to put off dealing with it until then, as far as he was concerned.

So instead of asking, he pointed at her. “You’re welcome, by the way. You know, for saving your life.”

La’an gave him a skeptical look, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I think I’ll wait until you haven't immediately put it in danger again.”

Spock was laughing at him in his head again. She reminds me of you, he said.

He waved broadly around the inside of the shuttle to cover his smile. “Well, if you’d like us to drop you off somewhere, just say the word. You might have noticed that we’re not exactly equipped for hosting duties.”

La’an narrowed her eyes. “I did notice that, actually. What are you even doing out here? This is hardly a sightseeing destination.”

“It’s our honeymoon,” Jim said lightly, well aware that she probably wasn’t believing anything he was saying. “And why wouldn’t we come here? I’ll admit we weren’t expecting any fighting, but just look at it!” He pointed out the viewscreen. “The Compass! Historical legend and present-day mystery all in one! Space! Adventure! Don’t you want to know what’s out there?”

“I just came from out there, thanks. It’s dangerous,” La’an said flatly. “I recommend leaving as quickly as possible.”

He diplomatically decided against asking ‘what were you doing out there, if you think it’s such a bad idea?’ He didn’t necessarily disagree with her, after all.

Instead, he said, “We’re not going to be going anywhere quickly, unfortunately. That last torpedo damaged the warp conduits. We can make repairs, but it’s going to take time.”

“This seems like a nice ship,” La’an said. “You can’t call for a tow?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to disclose that they already had backup on the way, so he ignored the question to deal with later. “Come on, La’an. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I think I must have left it on my ship. You know, when it blew up,” she said dryly.

On second thought, why put off for the future what you wanted to learn today? “Seemed like a nice ship,” he said, repeating her words. “Why didn’t you call for a tow? What were you doing out here?”

She hesitated, and then said, “I was broadcasting a distress signal, remember? And I was — looking for something. Chasing a rumor.”

Well, that was vague. He held up his hands. “Okay, hold on. Keeping in mind that all three of us are currently stuck with each other and will probably benefit from finding a way to work together… We’re going to need to trust each other, at least a little. So, do you want to elaborate on that at all? What rumor? What were you looking for?”

La’an looked at him. “There are records that suggest there was once a research outpost in this sub-sector. Probably in the asteroid field. I was trying to find it.”

Still vague, but definitely more helpful. He didn’t have to check with Spock to know that they hadn’t found any records like that. It didn’t necessarily mean she was lying. But if she wasn’t, he really wanted to know where she was getting her information.

“All right. Research outpost, asteroid field, got it. Were you on your own?”

“I was scouting ahead of my ship,” La’an told them. “I lost contact with them about a day ago – it was like their signal just disappeared. I assumed it was one of the anomalies. We had contingencies in place, and I expected them to meet me at the rendezvous point just outside the sub-sector. Even with delays, they should have contacted me by now.”

She didn’t ask to use their comm system, but maybe they had alternate means of communication.

“You mentioned an agreement with the vessel that attacked you, and us,” Spock said.

La’an nodded. “We stumbled across each other in the asteroid field. I don’t know what they were doing there – I assume they were looking for something too, but they found me first. They demanded I hand over any maps I had of the area. It seemed wiser to play along than get blown out of the sky.”

“You had maps?” Jim asked.

“I had an attempt at a map,” La’an said. “This area of space is surrounded by warning buoys for a reason. It’s full of spatial anomalies. I assume you knew that?”

He looked at Spock, who nodded. “We did,” Jim agreed. “Essentially.” That had certainly been one of the possible explanations.

La’an said, “Our science team couldn’t figure out any kind of pattern; every time they thought they had a working map, the anomalies would shift around. They appear and disappear seemingly at random. I gave them what I had, but –” She shrugged.

“I doubt it did them any more good than it did me. I didn’t want to chance finding the outpost while they were watching, so I headed for the rendezvous point. I thought they were right behind me, and then they just – disappeared. I was as surprised as you were when they showed up and started shooting.”

“Ships don’t just disappear.”

“They do here,” La’an said. “I don’t know what your sense of adventure was expecting to run into, but my ship was in here for a week. Things got – weird.”

“‘Weird,’” Spock repeated.

“‘Rules of physics no longer applying’ weird. Unexplained transformations, appearances and disappearances, alternate dimension bleedthrough – at first it seemed like all the changes were temporary. They reverted back to normal within a certain amount of time. But the longer we stayed, the more we questioned if that was really true.”

“We were planning to study the anomalies,” Jim said. “Not engage with them.”

La’an shook her head. “You think we ran into them on purpose? You can’t avoid them if they pop up inside the space your ship is already in. I’m telling you, it’s like reality doesn’t follow any of the usual rules here.”

It didn’t make any sense, but — “That does match the reports we have seen,” Spock acknowledged.

It sounded a lot more exciting than the reports they’d seen, but Vulcans tended to have a gift for making even the most unusual situations sound reasonably calm and logical. And it had been months since they’d received any reports at all; the incidents could have been escalating in that time.

“Well, there’s no changing our presence here now. La’an, you have the most experience – suggestions?”

“The asteroid field would provide cover, as well as some protection from sensors if the pirates come back.”

He could already feel Spock’s agreement, but for the sake of their guest, he said, “Spock?”

“I concur.”

The asteroid field took up a significant portion of the sub-sector; possibly the remains of an ancient planetary system. Other than the spatial anomalies, it was the sub-sector’s only physically significant feature – a logical choice for taking cover. The fact that it might also contain La’an’s rumored outpost was just a bonus. “Asteroid field it is, then.”


*******

They reached the edges of the asteroid field without incident, which meant they were all on edge waiting for something to go wrong. He felt Spock’s surprise, and looked up a split-second before he started speaking. “Sensors indicate an anomaly is forming and headed towards us, closing on our current position.”

“It’s moving?”

That wasn’t how spatial anomalies were supposed to work. Then again, it wasn’t called an anomaly because it acted in predictable ways.

Spock didn’t need to answer— not only was it moving, it was moving faster than they were, and it was growing. The anomaly was barely visible on the viewscreen, but he could see it clearly on the sensors. Not because they were providing any sort of useful analysis, but because they kept glitching out every time he tried to scan it.

“Full reverse. Can we evade?”

Spock shook his head. “Warp engines are still inoperable. Impulse power will be insufficient; the anomaly will overtake us in seconds.”

“Brace for impact!”

The anomaly engulfed the ship and sent the alarms into a cacophony of sound. We really need to work on that, he thought at Spock. No one’s reaction time or critical thinking skills are improved by a bunch of loud noises and flashing lights. Spock?

Jim? I don’t –

His attention snapped to Spock, who was — suddenly a lot shorter than he should have been? He still looked like Spock, but a version of Spock that Jim had only ever seen in Amanda’s picture-sharing sessions.

Spock! He threw a hand out, and found Spock already reaching back. He linked their fingers together without any care for whether or not La’an was watching.

What is happening? I feel – smaller.

Spock’s thoughts were all over the place, and Jim panicking wasn’t going to help the situation. We were hit by a spatial anomaly. What do you remember?

Remember? I – Spock took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. His thoughts immediately started to calm themselves back into an orderly system. We are bonded. We are on our honeymoon. We are in the sub-sector of space known as the Compass. The warp engines are offline. We encountered a spatial anomaly.

So he wasn’t going to have to explain to an actual tiny Spock why he was in the middle of nowhere with two strangers. That was good news. You look like you’re about six years old. How do you feel?

I feel – strange. I am aware that I should be an adult, and I have memories of being an adult, but I do not feel like one. All of those things seem far away. The words carried with them a vast uncertainty; a sense of being at the edge of a looming cliff. A six-year-old Vulcan’s emotions could easily overpower their equilibrium, and he shored up his own shields around both of them as much as he could.

I’m here,, he reassured. Our bond is still strong. Unspoken was that if Spock’s mind was truly as it was when he was six, that wouldn’t be true. Can you feel the others? T’Pring? Your siblings? If T’Pring was picking up any of this, she was probably breaking the laws of physics herself to get there faster.

I – yes. They are with me. Relief flooded through both of them, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. That was good. A Vulcan’s bonds were their strength.

Can you reach them?

He felt Spock settling himself in their link; the mental equivalent of his deep breath from before. I believe so.

The shuttle was designed to help boost telepathic and empathic abilities. Generally speaking, subspace communication was more convenient, but theoretically, it shouldn’t be impossible to reach as far as the Sh’Rel. (Theoretically, it definitely should have been impossible to reach Vulcan, but Sybok lived to defy expectations. The things he and his spouses managed were literally revolutionizing bond science.)

Case in point: James Tiberius Kirk!

He winced at the volume, but Spock’s mental presence lit up with happiness. Brother!

Hey Sybok, Jim sent carefully.

Don’t ‘hey Sybok’ me, James. What happened?

I’m a child! Spock exclaimed, and Sybok’s voice immediately softened.

I see that, little brother. Thank you for telling me. Are you all right?

Jim is here!

It took just three words to fill his heart to bursting, and he was sure he must be blushing. Spock’s excitement was undeniable – with his transformation, the usual gentle glow of his regard felt like a fireworks display.

I’m here, he confirmed. He felt their shared joy in that fact echo between them.

We’re okay, he sent to Sybok. It was a spatial anomaly. La’an says the effects are likely to wear off on their own.

Sybok’s attention sharpened suddenly. And who is La’an? Is that who’s with you?

He suddenly became aware that La’an was trying to get their attention, and probably had been for some time.

“James! Spock! Can you hear me?”

“We hear you,” he said, shaking himself out of their shared mental space. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all–” She cut herself off and waved towards Spock. “Are you?”

Spock opened his eyes, but didn’t move otherwise. “It seems my body has been transformed into that of my childhood.”

La’an leaned forward, studying him closely. “But not your mind? Do you know who we are?”

“I remember you,” Spock said calmly. “My mind seems to have retained my adult memories, although they are – further away than those of my childhood. But my critical thinking abilities, along with my ability to regulate my emotions, are more like that of a child. I must meditate.”

Spock stumbled when he tried to stand up, and La’an automatically reached out to help. Jim quickly stepped between them.

“My mental shields are weaker than expected,” Spock explained. “Physical contact with people I am not familiar with is not recommended.”

La’an looked at Jim, who had pretty obviously been in continuous physical contact with Spock since he changed. “Did you think I was lying about the honeymoon?” he asked her. “I wasn’t. We’re familiar with each other.”

Spock ignored both of them and tugged Jim by the hand back towards his station. “Sit, please.”

He did, and Spock climbed up in his lap without another word. He closed his eyes and leaned back into Jim’s chest. It was an ideal way to maximize Spock’s shields. It also happened to be adorable, and he gave up resisting the urge to run his hand through Spock’s hair.

The sensors weren’t showing any signs of the anomaly any more. “What happened to the anomaly? We’re not still in it, are we?”

“I don’t think so,” La’an said. “We observed them forming and dissipating rapidly.”

“But is it actually gone?” He nodded to La’an. “I’m starting to see what you meant about doubting your own senses and scans.”

“Did you want me to say ‘I told you so’ now, or later?”

Dammit, Spock was right – she reminded Jim of himself too. He shook his head. “Why don’t we put it on hold along with that ‘thank you’ you still owe us. Did your ship experience anything like this? Any advice on what we can do to help Spock change back?”

“Nothing exactly like this,” La’an said. “The effects of the anomalies seemed to last anywhere from minutes to days – nothing our doctors did seemed to make a difference.” She hesitated, and then added, “And I hope this isn’t overstepping, but it doesn’t look like Spock needs any help right now. I’d say he’s right where he wants to be.”

“I hope so,” he said. Coincidence or not, she’d just pulled one of his deepest fears right out into the open. It was impressive; that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.

They looked at each other. Eventually, La’an prompted, “So what do we do next?”

There was one thing he could think of, and however the question was received, it would do nicely to change the mood. “How do you feel about signing a non-disclosure agreement?”

La’an raised her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you have to share your real names for something like that?”

He pretended to be shocked. “Are you saying La’an isn’t your real name?”

Spock frowned, and responded without opening his eyes. “Spock is my real name,” he said firmly. “We did not share our full names with you because we did not yet trust your intentions.”

Jim tried not to smile. “And James is my real name. James or Jim are both fine. Jimmy’s a no-go unless I wind up like Spock here.”

La’an stared at him, but her response surprised him. “What about Jamie?”

He made a face. “Only from my brother, once or twice. And only because he knows I don’t like it.”

“Older brother?” La’an guessed.

“How did you know?”

“I have one too,” La’an said. “It sounds like something he would do.”

Jim nodded. “Well, I’m a youngest child, same as Spock here. My brother would tell you that explains everything you need to know about us.”

La’an hesitated, and then said, “And are you actually…?”

“It is a secret,” Spock announced, as serenely solemn as any adult Vulcan.

“I’m pretty sure La’an’s figured it out by this point,” Jim said. “And aren’t you supposed to be meditating?”

“I am capable of practicing meditation and social interaction simultaneously,” Spock said, which was almost certainly a lie.

“In that case, would you like to officially introduce yourself? You’re the famous one.”

Spock opened his eyes, and they were full of indignant fire. “You are as famous as I am.”

Two for two on lies. He hadn’t known Spock very well when he was actually six, but apparently he’d missed out on an incredible phase. Maybe Sybok or Michael would give him the details.

Spock drew himself up to sit with surprisingly perfect posture, given that he was still in Jim’s lap. “I am Spock, Captain of the Alliance of Federated Planets Fleet ship Sh’Rel. Second Prince of Vulcan, son of Sarek of Vulcan and Amanda of Earth, brother to Vulcan’s First Prince Sybok and Vulcan Ambassador Michael.”

Then he gestured grandly at Jim. “This is James Tiberius Kirk, Lieutenant in the Earth Fleet, son of George and Winona Kirk, brother to George Samuel Kirk. We’re married!” He beamed, and then suddenly turned serious. “That is still a secret.”

Jim tugged his hair gently. “Not for much longer, though.” He looked at La’an. “It’s a long story.”

“It is not relatively longer than any other explanation,” Spock disagreed.

“It’s long compared to your introductions, then. And it’s not something that should be told while someone’s trying to meditate,” he said pointedly.

“And I am not actually six years old,” Spock said, just as pointedly, but he leaned back anyway and closed his eyes.


*******

The meditation was still a work in progress when their long-range sensors lit up with a warning. “Sensors show multiple ships approaching our location,” Jim said quietly. “Possibly as many as a dozen. The lead ship has a similar configuration to the cruiser that attacked us before.”

La’an moved forward to look over his shoulder. “I told you they were waiting for reinforcements.”

“And here I thought we were holding off on the ‘I told you so’s,’” he answered, studying the readings carefully. The other ships were far enough away that the asteroid field was shielding them from scans, at least for the time being.

“Let’s see if we can figure out what we’re dealing with here. Spock, you and I are taking Ops. La’an, you take my seat. You can pilot, right?”

La’an moved quickly to the pilot seat. “Of course I –” She stopped. “Or no, maybe not. Why are all these controls in Vulcan?”

He blinked. “It’s a Vulcan ship; what other language would they be in?”

La’an’s tone was sheer exasperation. “Allied Standard? It’s called standard for a reason; it’s supposed to prevent situations like this.”

Jim sighed, and it was only half performative. “Look, the ship was a gift. And Vulcan is the second most common written language of the AFP. You really can’t read Vulcan?”

“I really can’t read Vulcan,” La’an confirmed.

“Spock?” he prompted.

Spock shook his head. I cannot. Not fast enough for a fight.

“Hold on, he can’t read Vulcan either?” He sent her a warning glance, and she put her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s something we have in common, that’s all. Learning to read languages beyond Allied Standard wasn’t exactly a priority where I grew up.”

Jim couldn’t resist the prickle of curiosity. “And that would be –?”

“Another long story,” La’an said firmly. “For another time.”

He could feel Spock’s interest, and he made a mental note to absolutely ask for that story at some point in the future. “We’ll hold you to that. In the meantime, any suggestions about our friends out there?”

La’an looked consideringly between them. “You must have backup coming.”

He shook his head, then shrugged. “Yes, but not fast enough to beat those ships to our location. We weren’t actually planning on getting into any situations that would require backup.”

Spock glared at the console. “In retrospect,” he muttered, “a different choice might have been made.”

Jim put a hand on his shoulder. “And maybe it would have turned out the same, just with more of us here, and fewer of us to come to the rescue,” he said.

He waited until Spock nodded before he continued. “Warp engines are offline, and we can’t power the shields the same way we did before without two people working together. We can probably stay out of their sensor range for a while, but eventually they’ll figure out we’re here, even if they’re not looking for us.”

“So, no running, no fighting, and no hiding. Any other ideas?” La’an asked.

Sure. They could keep their identities a secret and try to cut a deal, the way La’an had apparently managed in her first encounter with the group. Or they could reveal their identities, and hope La’an was wrong about how much the locals were likely to respect Allied law in the presence of an unexpectedly vulnerable Second Prince of Vulcan.

Or Spock could shift, and they could try to escape that way. But all of those options were risky. Riskier than they had wanted to try when there had only been one attacking ship, and Spock had been an adult. Absolutely out of the question when neither of those things were true anymore.

I could try, Spock offered, and Jim squeezed his hand.

Please don’t. Out loud, he said, “I suggest lying. La’an, were all your communications with the attacking ship audio-only?”

She nodded. “Yes. But they would recognize your ship.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Not necessarily. Vulcans are the ones who set the warning buoys in the first place, right? And this shuttle is a standard Vulcan Science Academy configuration. Who’s to say the VSA didn’t send someone to take a look around and assess the area?”

Spock gave a frown that looked adorable on his baby face, and shook his head. Jim wiggled his fingers at him. “Are you going to do that every time I say something that isn’t entirely true?”

“This one is easy,” Spock said. “The shuttle is based on a standard configuration.”

“That’s right,” he agreed. “The shuttle is based on a standard configuration. It has some modifications that wouldn’t be immediately obvious to scans.” He hesitated, but he’d been the one to suggest trusting each other. Time to put up or shut up, as his mother was fond of saying.

“We can also switch the transponder to a different ship ID.” He had, in fact, already done it.

La’an raised her eyebrows. “That’s illegal.”

It was a gray area. “It’s a gray area,” he said. Spock stared resolutely at the console, no change in his expression at all.

La’an’s eyebrows seemed to go even higher. “I’m fairly certain it’s not,” she said. “But I suppose it’s likely to work in our favor. We have another issue, though. Even if they don’t recognize the ship, or any of us, why would they believe that the Vulcan Science Academy sent two Humans and a Vulcan child to ‘look around’ a dangerous area of space.”

He looked at Spock, who shrugged. “Vulcan educational standards are known to be rigorous,” Spock said. “The probability that a family unit would be assigned to this mission is not zero.”

It was a beautiful example of bending a truth to fit a specific purpose. Technically, a family unit had been assigned to the mission. Just not the one they were planning to imply.

“See?” he said. “Non-zero probability. No problem. Welcome to the family, La’an.”

La’an held up her hands. “And – just so I’m clear, when you say welcome to the family. That would be the family where you’re actually married to Spock, but you’re pretending that you’re not, and now you’re going to pretend to be married to me, even though we’re definitely not, and we’re both going to pretend that Spock is our child.”

That pretty much summed it up. He looked at Spock, who nodded. “Well, I prefer to think of it as a strategic reinterpretation of the facts, rather than ‘pretending,’ but essentially, yes.”

“Right,” La’an said. “Just checking. I can’t believe I thought the spatial anomaly was going to be the strangest part of this day.”

He shrugged. “Word of advice from one of my teachers at the Academy: Things can always get stranger, and they usually do.”

If they were going to convince the other ships that they were just a regular Vulcan shuttle out on a VSA mission, they couldn’t look like they were running away. He set up some scans of the asteroid field, and pretended to focus on plotting a course that would take them past the oldest warning buoys.

At the same time, Spock gave La’an a crash course in the basic console readouts. None of them bothered hiding the fact that they were mostly spending the time watching the cluster of ships get closer. The unsettling feeling of the cruiser was even worse in a group, and he focused on not letting his worry leak across the bond to Spock.

It felt like a much longer wait than the chronometer reading showed. Finally, the comms panel chimed an alert. “We’re being hailed,” La’an said, and Spock nodded.

Showtime. He flipped the channel open.

”State your identification and purpose in this sub-sector.”

“This is James, of the Vulcan Science Academy shuttle Mount Seleya. We’re performing routine scans of the area as well as buoy maintenance.”

”One of our ships was recently attacked by a Vulcan shuttle. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I’m not aware of any other Vulcan shuttles assigned to this area,” he said. “If you choose to file a report with the VSA, they will investigate the attack, and you may be eligible for reparations depending on their findings.”

Their sensors showed the other ships moving to surround them. They weren’t going to be making a run for it, that was for sure.

”Or we could save time, and take our reparations from the opportunity right in front of us. Lower your shields and prepare to be beamed to our ship.”

That wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t a photon torpedo through the viewscreen. It could be worse, is what he was saying.

“Understood. We also recognize the value of resolving things face to face. I’m happy to beam over, but I request that my wife and son remain here. Our ship is designed to meet the unique medical needs of Vulcan children.”

”A Vulcan child?”

There was a pause in the communication. He could feel Spock’s muscles tensing, and he nudged their shoulders together. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m here.” There weren’t a lot of good reasons why an alleged pirate ship would have a particular interest in a Vulcan child. None he could think of, in fact.

Contingencies stacked up in his head while they waited for a response. It was extremely unlikely that anyone would guess Spock’s actual identity in his current state, but according to La’an, that state might change at any moment. And they still didn’t know exactly what the pirates wanted, whether it was a directed search of just an opportunistic thing.

There were too many variables, and not enough data to start ruling them out. Any choice that let them keep making choices was going to have to be good enough.

I have confidence in our abilities, Spock sent. We have faced similarly daunting odds and prevailed. T’Pring and the others are on their way.

Spock’s unshakeable confidence was as reassuring as ever, and he wasn’t wrong. Are you telling me to have a little faith, Spock?

Spock wrapped one of his hands into Jim’s sleeve. Yes.

The comm channel lit up. ”Your request is denied. We detect three life signs; all three will be beamed to our ship for – negotiations. Prepare for transport.”

The communication cut off, and he let out a long breath. La’an gave him a questioning look. “Still think we can lie our way out of this?”

“Sure,” he said, with significantly more confidence than he actually felt. “We’re just going to have to lie really convincingly.”

They weren’t out of choices yet.


*******

They materialized in what looked like a cargo bay of some sort, and immediately had weapons pointed at them. Seven people, all armed, with weapons that could have been scavenged from a half-dozen different worlds. Their body armor had the same mix-and-match variety; the only consistencies were that it all looked spaceworthy, and everyone’s faces were hidden.

It was perfect for concealing an illegal band of pirates – or for making someone think it was an illegal band of pirates.

The one in the center of the group stepped forward. “Don’t move.”

“Not moving,” he confirmed.

“Don’t speak, either.”

The door to the cargo bay opened, and another person hurried in. “Sir! There’s an urgent report from the bridge.”

They were too far away to hear the contents of the report, even for Spock’s ears, but whatever it was made the group shift restlessly. Not good news, it looked like.

The one who might be the leader waved a hand towards them and headed for the door. “Cuff them and put them in the cells. We can deal with them later.”

Two of the original seven people fell in behind the leader, and the remaining five seemed uncertain exactly how to proceed. One of them produced several sets of handcuffs from somewhere in their armor, but then passed them off like a hot potato to the next person in line.

Jim smiled and helpfully put his hands out in front of him, wrists together. “I’ll go first,” he said, and he could feel his smile get wider when none of them told him not to talk. Not that he couldn’t keep himself the center of attention without using words, but he’d take any advantage he could get.

The ‘cells’ they were led to weren’t far from the cargo bay. They were also fairly obviously just repurposed crew quarters with all the furniture removed. The oppressive feeling of the ship was still present, but unexpectedly reduced.

The closest guard gestured at the open door. “Get in.”

“Wait,” one of the others said. “Shouldn’t we put them in separate cells?”

“Please,” Jim said, allowing desperation to bleed into his voice. “We’re a family. What harm could there be in letting us stay together?”

Spock sniffled loudly right on cue, and rubbed his eyes. The guard hesitated. “You’ll keep the kid quiet.”

He tugged Spock closer to his side, and La’an tucked herself behind both of them. “Yes, absolutely,” he said.

There was a pause, while their captors all looked at each other. He wondered if they had in-armor comms that they could use to talk privately.

Finally the guard held up a hand. “Fine. Easier to guard one room than three anyway. If they make trouble, shoot them.”

And then they were left alone. Blank walls, blank floor – he couldn’t see any evidence of cameras or surveillance, but that meant less than nothing without knowing what kind of tech their captors were working with.

“So, this is nice,” he said. “Spacious.”

He settled Spock in the most defensible corner, and they both watched La’an search the room. “I’ve seen worse,” she said, and he nodded.

“The decor is a little bland,” he offered. On the plus side, the ship was warmer than he was used to, even compared to Vulcan standards. It was a nice change from the last time he’d been locked up. And the time before that, come to think of it.

La’an finished her circuit and joined them on the floor. She was watching him, while he watched Spock, and Spock watched her. She is conflicted about the information she holds. Spock told him, carefully gripping his wrist. She is afraid of the consequences sharing it might bring.

He rotated his hand so he could wrap his fingers around Spock’s forearm. Physical contact wasn’t necessary for them to exchange thoughts, but it made it nearly impossible to detect or block. And, he could admit in the quiet between the two of them, it was comforting.

I agree. She’s been hiding something from us since we met her. They’d ignored it because who wasn’t hiding something? But it looked like they might be about to find out what it was. Even perfectly ordinary Human senses can tell that much.

Spock’s mental presence lit up with a laugh. As your senses are neither perfectly ordinary nor entirely Human, I do not believe you can accurately make such a claim.

I’m extrapolating, he sent, and Spock laughed again.

You are embellishing.

Eventually, La’an seemed to come to a decision. She leaned closer, like she was resettling herself against the wall and it just happened to get her within whispering distance. “I can get out of these cuffs,” she murmured quietly.

Was that it? He smiled. “So can I,” he said. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

He wasn’t expecting to get a confused look in return. “I was talking about lock picks. Are you flirting with me right now?”

Was he? He thought about it. Yes, Spock told him decisively. It has been extremely obvious.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “Why, are you flirting with me?” It wasn’t the conversation that he’d thought they were going to have, but he wasn’t averse.

“You’re married,” La’an said, which wasn’t exactly an answer.

He frowned. “Several times over, yes. I thought Vulcan bonding customs were fairly well known, at this point. Multiple spouses, more support, stronger networks of mental bonds?”

La’an shrugged. “I didn’t realize Humans could be included in those,” she said.

“Humans, Betazoids, the occasional Andorian — I’m sure there will be more in the future.” Once again, he was getting the feeling that something didn’t add up about La’an. Humans weren’t as commonly included in Vulcan bonds as Betazoids, but it wasn’t unheard of.

Spock’s mother, famously, was a Human with Vulcan marriage bonds. Everyone knew Amanda. Everyone who was familiar with the Alliance of Federated Planets, anyway.

“Spock says I’ve been obvious about it. I apologize.” He was out of practice having emotional conversations where he couldn’t just open up his mind and show them what he was feeling. “I feel – comfortable, around you,” he said finally.

“You shouldn’t,” La’an answered, and at first he wasn’t sure which part she was replying to. “I haven’t been – entirely honest, with you.”

“Well, we were pretty sure you weren’t having that whole debate with yourself earlier just to ask us about bond science.” He held his hands up in front of himself. “Would it have something to do with these?”

“What do you mean?”

He could feel Spock’s curiosity bolstering his own. “I mean, these are an interesting choice of handcuffs. You can learn a lot about people by the handcuffs they choose.”

“And you’re familiar with a wide variety of handcuffs?” La’an winced, and closed her eyes briefly. “And please don’t make a sex joke right now.”

He pretended to put his hands over Spock’s ears, and Spock responded with something that was almost a smile. “Do I seem like the kind of person who would make a joke at a time like this? I mean, I admit that maybe I was thinking about it – a little humor to lighten the mood? No?”

La’an gave him an unimpressed look.

“But actually, the answer to your question is yes.” He leaned back against the wall and held up his cuffed hands. “This may or may not surprise you to learn, but this is not my first time in handcuffs, in a completely non-sexy, non-joking way.”

“Really. Sounds like there’s another long story there,” La’an said.

“More than one, but maybe not so long this time.” Handcuffs generally meant the good kind of captured, where you were going to get a chance to escape again. “Sometimes you’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and suddenly you’re being handcuffed. It could have happened to anyone, really.”

He thought it was a perfectly reasonable statement, but La’an narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t known you for very long, but I’m relatively sure that’s not true,” she said.

“It is not,” Spock agreed.

He ignored them. “Most handcuffs these days are designed to prevent shifting.” He had actually been hoping they’d get cuffs that dampened telepathic abilities, since that would have helped keep Spock from being overwhelmed by all the outside stimuli. “Not these, though.”

He wiggled his fingers. “These are fancy. If I had to guess, they’re genetically coded, which is definitely not a standard feature. For a group of ‘pirates’ to have custom cuffs like these? They’re either extremely under-prepared for the kind of prisoners a typical pirating operation might deal with, or they’re exactly the right amount of prepared for something very specific.”

La’an froze. She was staring at the door, refusing to meet either of their eyes. “I don’t know anything about the handcuffs, or where they got them,” she said finally. “But – they’re probably coded to me. It’s probably me they’re looking for.”

He searched for something to say, some question that would make everything come into focus. Spock squeezed his wrist, and he willed himself to wait patiently instead.

“My full name is La’an Noonien-Singh. Khan Noonien-Singh was my ancestor.”

Jim nodded, even though he wasn’t clear on the relevance. The Noonien-Singh Seven were covered in history class. They had ushered in a new era of Earth’s history – one that included more than its fair share of fighting. Ironically, it was the damage to Earth’s climate caused by those wars that ultimately led the majority of humanity to accept the need for genetic modification. Adapt or die had been a very real choice at that time.

“Not all of Khan’s descendants believed in his philosophies,” La’an said. “There was a group that left Earth, trying to – start over, I suppose. Leave their legacy of genetic modification behind. They wanted to adapt a planet to the people, rather than the people to the planet. Theoretically.”

Jim blinked. “Are you talking about the Botany Bay? I thought that was a myth.”

“Not a myth,” La’an said. “My many-times great grandparents were on that ship.”

Spock studied her carefully. “Based on your demeanor, the theory was not successfully executed.”

“It was,” La’an told them. “For a while. Or at least that’s what they recorded. But voluntary isolationism is a hard sell in a connected quadrant. There was — conflict. Political power struggles, infighting. Eventually, one person pulled together enough support for ‘traditional values’ to turn the group’s voluntary isolationism into an involuntary one by destroying all the space worthy ships and seizing control of the colony.”

She shrugged. “That’s where I grew up. A world where information was strictly controlled, and no one was allowed to leave.”

He was willing to point out the obvious contradiction. “But you left. Did people decide to go back to being more connected?”

“No, not exactly,” La’an said. “There were always a few people who disappeared each year. Rumors about secret communication channels, that sort of thing. My brother taught himself engineering and cobbled together a ship that would get us off the planet. After a while, we got picked up by someone who helped us.”

He wondered who, and how long ‘a while’ might have been.

“They always said anyone who left would be found and punished. We thought it was a scare tactic — why would they bother with people who wanted to leave? But this ship – the armor, the weapons – it’s familiar. We’ve seen them off and on ever since we left. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Why would an isolationist colony that never leaves the planet need a squadron’s worth of ships disguised as pirates?” he questioned.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Presumably, to ensure that the rule is followed. Ships such as this would provide corroboration of the warning – deterrent and enforcement combined.”

The inconsistencies in La’an’s knowledge of current events suddenly made more sense. A question echoed back and forth between him and Spock. “That’s why you didn’t recognize us,” he said. “How much would you say you’ve been caught up on…” He trailed off.

“What’s actually been happening for the past few centuries, instead of what we were told?” La’an offered. “Enough to get by, I suppose? We only left a few months ago. Why?”

Jim looked at Spock. Spock bit his lip. Oh.

“There’s a few things we should probably tell you, in that case.”


*******

“I think what we’ve learned from all of this is that we need to work on our communication.”

He was exhausted, although he wasn’t sure how much of that was spillover from Spock, who was already dozing fitfully at his side. The lights in the room hadn’t changed, but it had to have been several hours since they’d arrived, and it had already been a long day before that.

“Really?” La’an gestured around the room, or maybe just at him and Spock. “Is that what we’ve learned?”

They’d been hesitant to get overly detailed in their explanations, no matter how lax the surveillance seemed to be. A basic confirmation that yes, genetic modification was something she shouldn’t be surprised to see, and that it had had some less-expected side effects along the way.

“Well, if we’re going to make this marriage last…” He tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall.

They both froze as footsteps pounded closer in the corridor, but the door stayed shut, and the steps faded in the opposite direction. It was the fifth cluster of people who had passed their cell since they’d arrived, and the second that had been at a run. He’d definitely heard the word ‘disappeared’ more than once, along with ‘haunted.’

“Do you think they’re having problems with the spatial anomalies?” he asked.

La’an made a face. “I don’t know whether to hope the answer to that question is yes, or no. I don’t know how they could be avoiding them, though, unless they’ve figured out more about them than we did.”

Which seemed unlikely, if the group of ships had truly been tracking La’an somehow. That wouldn’t account for why they had pressed her for maps in their first meeting, though, or their interest in Vulcan children. He supposed that a group of people who agreed to do something like bounty hunting the occasional colonist who left their planet probably wouldn’t hesitate to take on a side gig or two.

So far, their door had only opened once, when a pair of guards had deposited a handful of ration bars on the floor and left again without a word. Other than that, they’d been hearing an unusual amount of activity around the ship, but so far none of it seemed to be about them.

Or maybe it was. “You said you think they’re looking for you. But you didn’t think they would recognize you on sight?”

La’an looked uncomfortable. “I – wasn’t sure. I thought they might, actually. I assumed eventually they’d ID me, and then I’d negotiate for your safe return to your ship. They were willing to make a bargain once, why not again?”

That was along the same lines he’d been thinking, except – “For us to return to the ship. Not you?”

She didn’t answer, and he leaned back to stare at her more intently. “Remember what I was saying about communication? This would have been good information to have before we all let ourselves get captured.”

La’an rolled her eyes. “What other option did we have? At least that way the two of you would have a chance.”

“Well, we’re not leaving you here.”

“I lied to you, and it put you in danger. I suggest you let me decide what I’m willing to do to make up for that.”

He shrugged. “We knew you weren’t telling us everything. Anyway, it won’t matter until we know more about what’s going on out there.”

La’an accepted the less-than-graceful change of topic, and retrieved the ration bars from the doorway. “They’re feeding us, at least.”

“Mm. Do you think that’s more likely to be a good sign, or a bad one?”

La’an gave the bars a dubious look. “I’ve eaten worse. I’m surprised we’re getting a meal before we hear any demands.”

He nodded. “And it’s even still sealed. That’s practically unheard of with things like this.”

La’an transferred her dubious expression to him. “I have concerns about your familiarity with situations ‘like this.’ Aren’t you an officer in the Allied Fleet? Don’t they look out for you?”

“I wouldn’t have thought your impression of the Allied Fleet would be so positive.”

La’an shook her head. “Right, that didn’t come from the colony. Their standard line was that the best you could hope for from the Allied Fleet is that they’d ignore you. ‘If you have something they want, they’ll take it. If they think you have nothing, they’ll try to convert you.’”

“Bold,” Jim noted. “And not entirely without basis, depending on perspective.”

La’an kept her eyes on her food when she added, “My brother and I were helped by – another ship. Their captain and crew saved us. They’re not part of the Allied Fleet, but they gave us access to more information about it.”

“And that information was complimentary?” Sure, he believed they were doing good out there, but non-Fleet ships didn’t always share that opinion.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you avoiding my questions,” La’an said. “But yes, relatively complimentary.” She hesitated, and then added, “That’s who I was waiting for, when you found me.”

They heard more armored steps hurrying through the corridor outside their door, and Spock startled awake. “You should try to eat something,” Jim told him, and barely managed not to clutch at his heart when Spock rubbed his eyes sleepily.

La’an nudged the ration bars closer as Spock hesitated. “There’s nothing flavored, but with ration bars, that’s usually a good thing.”

He held up his bar in a toast. “To optimism,” he said.

La’an gamely tapped her bar against his. “To not dying today.” Close enough.

“You know,” he said consideringly, poking at the wrapper on the bar. “This is basically a first date.”

La’an stared at him. “It is not. In what way could this possibly be considered a first date?”

He spread his hands out and gestured around the cell. “It’s neutral ground for both of us, atmospheric lighting, sharing a meal, conversation about personal topics – all of those are common components of a Human first date. Granted, typically they’re not pretending to be married already.”

La’an narrowed her eyes, but she was smiling at the same time. “I feel like if I agree with you, you’re always going to remember this as the worst first date you’ve ever been on.”

Jim pointed at her with the ration bar. “And you would be wrong about that. I’ve been on much worse first dates than this. Including my first dates with almost all my spouses.”

“I remember hearing something about —“ She hesitated. They were fairly sure they weren’t being actively monitored, which was an unusual choice for a kidnapping, but it still made sense to be careful. “Your arrangement,” La’an finally offered, looking back and forth between him and Spock. “Something about a scandal? A feud?”

“That was a misunderstanding,” he said, shaking his head. “It was fine, the media just preferred writing stories about our ‘ongoing antagonism’ because it was more exciting than the truth.”

“However, that was not our first meeting,” Spock said. He was laughing at Jim again. “Our actual first meeting was much earlier and went much more poorly. He accused me of being a thief, and by the end of the night we had both been arrested. My first arrest.”

He poked Spock’s shoulder gently. “Hey now, technically it doesn’t count as an arrest unless they file the paperwork.”

Then he spun his finger to point at La’an. “Also, that description makes it sound like it was all my fault, which it was not. This was when we were – four? Five? And both our parents got invited to all the big Fleet events, and this just happened to be the first time we’d both gotten dragged along with them.”

“I was not dragged,” Spock said. “I was persuaded of the value of my attendance at the event.”

“Fine, I was dragged,” Jim amended easily. “Sam was always the guest of choice at things like that — I just ran around with the other kids and got into trouble. There was a little pack of us; it was great.”

Spock looked skeptical, but it was hard to say which part he objected to. Jim pushed on through the story. “Here’s the scene: there’s Spock, reading by himself in the corner, refusing to hang out with us. And then one of my friends announced that her whole family was moving to Vulcan to do research.”

“This is a significantly abridged version of events,” Spock told La’an.

“Later that night,” Jim interrupted, “I managed to get a hold of a comm number that would actually reach Spock, and then I called him up and accused him of stealing my friend. He was the one who suggested we have an honor duel about it.”

Spock’s usually impressive glare looked more like a cute scowl on his baby face. “You were enthusiastically in favor.”

“Of course I was. What kid wouldn’t want to have an honor duel?” He could still remember the excitement he’d felt.

“Obviously, in order to do everything properly, we had to go back to the place where the insult occurred. We got caught sneaking into the Earth Fleet reception hall building, but neither of us would give our names, so we wound up detained in the security office until the morning shift came in and recognized us.”

“I do not regret my actions,” Spock said.

“Neither do I,” he agreed.

Spock settled back down and closed his eyes, and Jim smoothed a hand down his back. “I’m afraid I have a reputation among my spouses for poor first impressions,” he said.

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” La’an told him, which was flattering, if a little surprising.

“Well, I am both surprised and flattered to hear that. Wait till Spock wakes up again; he can tell you all the stories and convince you otherwise.”

La’an nodded. “I do have one question.”

“Oh? Just one?”

“For now. Is there a reason you’re not eating that bar?”

Busted. He held up the bar and wiggled it a little. “There is, but it’s not very interesting. I’m allergic to most ration bars. This happens to be one of them.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Spock needs a lot of calories at this age; he can have it if he gets hungry before they feed us again.”


*******

Spock’s face was scrunched into a frown even though he was asleep. The main lights had gone out at some point, and he thought all of them had managed to sleep at least a little. Enough to start planning again.

“Is he okay?”

“The situation isn’t ideal,” Jim admitted. “His mental shields are struggling, even with mine backing them up.”

La’an looked uncertain. “I thought his mind didn’t change,” she said.

Jim shook his head. “He kept his memories, but that doesn’t mean the physical structure of his brain didn’t transform along with the rest of his body. He’s trying to process an adult level of input with a child’s brain. It would be challenging for anyone, but especially a Vulcan.”

“Why especially a Vulcan?” La’an shrugged off his look of surprise. “Xenobiology wasn’t exactly a big focus where I grew up. Vulcans are telepaths; I know that much.”

“Among other things,” he agreed. “Vulcans often spend years building up the emotional resilience to go into space. Planets are full of life – for telepaths, it’s like a background hum. It’s the foundation they build all of their awareness from as they train. Like any background noise, you might not even notice it unless it disappeared.”

“Like if you suddenly left the planet,” La’an said, and he nodded.

“Or if a spatial anomaly suddenly de-aged your brain by several decades, yes. Space isn’t silent, but it’s a different kind of noise. Space is vast. The scale of things is completely different than being on a planet – ships are much smaller, space itself is much bigger. It’s a profound adjustment.”

He was worried that Spock might not simply be asleep, but unconscious. A deep meditation could help maintain his shields for a short time, but it was a dangerous choice with only Jim around for bond support.

Of course, it was also possible the effects of the spatial anomaly were wearing off, which would be an entirely different set of problems.

“Vulcan ships are designed to support every aspect of their abilities. When we were on the ship, it could boost his telepathic range far enough to get in contact with the others, and they were able to add their support.”

La’an nodded slowly. “And here I thought you had lied about him needing to be there in an attempt to keep us out of danger.”

He smiled. “If you hang out around Vulcans long enough, they’ll convince you that the best lies are truths, just angled slightly sideways.”

“I hope I get the chance to,” La’an said. “Is there anything I can do to help him right now? Or you?”

His first instinct wasn’t to say no, and that made him pause. “Maybe,” he said. “Mostly just one thing – don’t let T’Pring shoot you when she gets here.” If they were lucky, he and Spock would both be conscious and coherent and able to explain the situation. Given what had happened so far, and the chaotic wildcard of the spatial anomalies, it seemed wise to build in a few contingencies.

“T’Pring?” La’an asked.

“She’s also married to –” he stopped himself from saying ‘Spock.’ “Me,” he said instead. It was true in every sense except the legal one, and even that was more of a planet-by-planet thing. He tried to think of the best way to describe T’Pring. “She’s very – determined.”

T’Pring was determined and uncompromising and they’d made her a war general for it. Scholars would be writing about her tactics during the siege of Vulcan for generations. Now that the war was over, she had turned that same fierce protection to the things she cared about most: her chosen family, and the pursuit of knowledge.

“She may not have all the information about what’s been happening,” he added. “So you should make sure she knows you’re on our side. Just in case another spatial anomaly shows up and you’re the one who’s left running things.”

He wasn’t sure how to interpret the expression on La’ans face. “You’re that sure she’s coming. I’ve — I don’t know if I’ve ever had that much faith in someone.”

There were no words to explain it, but he nodded. “Of course. I would never doubt T’Pring.”

Another thought occurred to him. “Oh, and when we get back to the ship, keep your eyes closed.”

La’an nodded, and then shook her head. “I assume someday you’ll answer a question in a way that doesn’t immediately generate five more questions.”

“I’m an open book,” he said. “I love questions.”

“Somehow I expect I’d need to be able to read Vulcan for that book,” La’an told him. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

The lights hadn’t come back on by the time the guards arrived with their next delivery of ration bars. When the door slid open, they could see that the lights in the corridor were out as well, and both guards seemed nervous.

The three of them stayed back against the far wall, and one of the guards set the food down just inside the door. The other one pointed at Spock.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s ill,” Jim said. “I told you before, he has unique medical needs. He needs to go back to our ship.”

The guard who had pointed shook their head. “No. Tell us what you need from your ship, and we’ll decide if we retrieve it and bring it to you.”

“That won’t work,” he said. “It’s a Vulcan ship.” No reaction. “It’s a Vulcan ship that saw active duty during the Romulan War. As soon as there were no registered crew members on board, it automatically went into lockdown.”

Both guards tightened their grip on their weapons. “The ship is ours by right of salvage!”

That really wasn’t how the rules of salvage worked, but it also really didn’t seem like the time to get into a debate about it. Instead, he said, “And you can salvage a very pretty paperweight. Or a very dangerous bomb, depending on how much you try to mess with it.”

The guards looked at each other, and then back at him. He added, “You can ask the Romulans if you don’t believe me. Or check the news networks – it’s hard to find any footage of the explosions themselves, but I think you’ll find the aftermath to be… illustrative.”

“He’s lying,” one of the guards said angrily. “Vulcans prize logic above all else. If your ship explodes, you would die as well. How is that logical?”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “It was war. Nothing about war is logical.”

He actually wished he was bluffing. Well, he was bluffing a little. It was true that Vulcan ships locked down if there were no registered crewmembers on board, and that it was extremely unlikely anyone trying to ‘salvage’ it would be able to get it working.

But the ships were specifically designed to break apart without exploding. There wouldn’t be any reason for them to all be wearing spacesuit generators if the ship was just going to blow them up.

The guards looked at each other again. “What if we took you back there?”

He attempted to look obliging. “With all three of us, we could reactivate the ship’s systems.”

The second guard finally spoke up. “And the ship could get us out of this subsector?”

“We encountered a spatial anomaly before you found us,” he said apologetically. “Warp power was damaged; we were attempting repairs. Impulse engines were working, though.”

He moved his hand to the back of Spock’s neck. Spock, we need you. He focused on the details of the current situation, and their chance to get back to the ship. My strength is your strength.

Spock shifted. I’m here, he sent. My strength is your strength. Spock gave a convincing attempt at a cough that made both guards take a step back.

Jim wasn’t sure if it was the cough or some other consideration that ultimately convinced the guards to take them back. Something had happened to the ship; that much was clear. Whether the guards were acting under orders or striking out on their own was less certain.

They were escorted back to the cargo bay by flashlight. “Don’t try anything,” one of the guards threatened. “We’re all beaming over together.”

He held up both hands in acknowledgement, but quickly put one on Spock’s shoulder and the other on La’an before they dematerialized. After the darkness of the other ship, the bright light of the shuttle – designed to mimic Vulcan’s intense sunlight – was blinding. He hoped La’an had remembered to keep her eyes closed.

With both of his hands occupied, it was Spock who reached out to touch the shuttle’s hull. Intruder alert protocol epsilon, he sent.

The computer’s automated voice responded. “Intruder alert protocol epsilon activated.” The ship hummed to life around them. “Full power to shields.”

When his eyes adjusted, he looked around and nodded. The ship was empty except for the three of them.

“What was that?” La’an asked. She sounded like she was torn between suspicion and panic, which was a pretty fair reaction.

“Intruder alert protocol,” he repeated. “It kicks in right as the transport beam finalizes and reverses it for anyone who isn’t a registered member of the crew. Our guard friends are back on their own ship now.”

He quickly moved to the pilot seat, and Spock followed. “Systems are online; no reaction yet from the other ships. There’s fewer of them, though.” Maybe they’d get lucky and whatever had caused the lights to go out had also taken out their weapons.

Spock immediately dropped into meditation to realign his shields, and Jim ignored the slight ringing in his ears caused by their separation. Or maybe it was more than that – he turned around in his seat to see La’an staring at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not a registered member of the crew.”

“You’re wearing one of these,” Jim said, tapping the spacesuit generator around his neck. “That’s enough for this protocol.”

La’an narrowed her eyes. “Spock isn’t wearing one,” she pointed out.

He smiled. “Trust me, he doesn’t need one.”

La’ans expression said ‘I’m putting this on the list of things I expect you to explain later,’ but her actual words were, “Right. Not that I’m not grateful to be out of that room, but how is this any better than the position we were in before we were captured?”

“For one thing, fewer ships, and we know they’ve been having their own issues with the spatial anomalies.”

He gestured towards the viewscreen. “And one more reason –”

An alert came from the console – one ship approaching, closing fast on their position.

Spock’s eyes snapped open. “T’Pring is here.”


*******

The anomalies and their captors’ own fears had done a lot of the work for them. The appearance of the Sh’rel scattered all but one of the remaining ships.

He immediately opened a channel, even though he could feel Spock communicating everything to T’Pring through the bond. Seeing the familiar sight of the Sh’rel’s bridge, he didn’t bother holding back a smile. “Perfect timing,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

”James,” T’Pring acknowledged. ”Spock.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. ”Guest.”

“T’Pring,” Jim said. She had focused her attention back on Spock, which was understandable – he was an exceptionally cute child. “You’ve been caught up?”

”Indeed.”

“The status of the opposing ship is unknown – possible damage to systems, likely due to either localized spatial phenomena or internal dispute among the crew.”

”They are hailing us.” T’Pring sounded unimpressed. ”This channel will remain open.”

The captain – or whoever was currently in charge of the ship – immediately started talking. Jim wasn’t sure how the comms system was working and the lights weren’t, but it was probably safe to blame spatial anomalies. “Unidentified ship, state your purpose in this area.”

“This is T’Pring, Acting Captain of the Sh’rel. Here to rendezvous with our shuttle and continue routine surveys and repairs.” T’Pring raised one eyebrow. ”What is your purpose in this area?”

”We seek retribution! My ship was attacked. We followed the attacker into this subsector, but lost their trail in the asteroid field, before coming across this abandoned shuttle.”

Not quite brave enough to claim the right of salvage in front of a fully-operational Vulcan flagship, he noticed.

”Abandoned?” T’Pring questioned. ”It appears fully functional to our scanners.”

The other captain made a sound like a cough. ”What? No, that’s impossible!”

Jim cycled all the shuttle’s outer hull lights on and off in a wave pattern, just in case the other ship could see them. And because it made T’Pring smile, although she kept it hidden well.

”The shuttle is responding to our communications and moving towards our airlock,” T’Pring said, and he hurried to suit actions to words.

”I’m telling you, you can’t trust anything you see out here!” The captain sounded genuinely concerned, and T’Pring’s eyebrow went up again.

”It is a crewed and operational Vulcan shuttle at the planned rendezvous coordinates. There is no reason to doubt the evidence of our senses at this time.” She paused, adding dramatic emphasis that she would likely never admit to. ”Perhaps you should consult with a medical professional. After making your way out of this sub-sector of space.”

The captain scoffed. ”You’ll see soon enough. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

”We most certainly will not say that.”

La’an leaned forward. “I think I want to be her when I grow up,” she said quietly.

“Don’t we all,” he told her. They watched the other ship slowly make a turn and head away from the asteroid field. Then he looked back at T’Pring. “Permission to come aboard? We could use some help with repairs.”

“Permission granted.” Welcome home, James.

The shuttle bay seemed much more full of lights and noises than usual. T’Pring swept Spock into a hug without any hesitation, and he could feel their joy bouncing through the room like ping-pong balls. He noticed La’an watching him, and tried harder to seem like he was paying attention to the actual words being spoken.

The Sh’rel hadn’t encountered any spatial anomalies on its way to them, he got that much. They also hadn’t encountered any other ships, including the one La’an said should be around somewhere.

Stonn slipped through the group to stand at his side. “You need rest,” he said quietly. “How much have you been holding Spock’s shields?”

“It was fine,” he said, and Stonn’s judgemental look was impressive even for a Vulcan.

“That was not an answer to the question,” Stonn said.

Jim sighed. “Almost entirely since we were beamed off the shuttle. He’s so little like this; I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him safe.”

“Imagine if you had actually known him at this age,” Stonn said dryly. “He was much less polite then.”

“We told La’an about the honor duel,” Jim agreed. “We were all troublemakers in one way or another.”

Stonn leaned closer even as he pretended to take offense. “Speak for yourself; I never got in trouble until I met you.”

He wasn’t too tired to laugh at that. “We met in prison, Stonn, that means you must have gotten in trouble at least once before that.”

He fought back a yawn, and Stonn took the final step to wrap their hands together. “Please. Let me share the burden.”

He nodded. There was no point in deflecting; Stonn wouldn’t offer to help if he wasn’t prepared to provide it. “Thank you.” The relief was immediate, as Stonn’s mental presence soothed the ragged edges of his shields and made everything seem about thirty decibels quieter.

Spock tugged T’Pring closer to the group. “La’an,” he said, “This is T’Pring, my wife. Our marriage is not a secret.” Spock waved his free hand in Stonn’s direction without making direct eye contact. “And this is Stonn. We are also married.”

Jim could feel Stonn’s amusement with the less-than-enthusiastic introduction. “You are very dear to me as well, Spock,” he said easily, and Spock scowled at him.

“It’s an honor to meet you all,” La’an said, carefully holding up her hand in the Vulcan ta’al. T’Pring nodded back with her usual regal elegance.

“I’m a little surprised Sybok isn’t with you,” Jim said. He looked around, just in case Sybok was waiting for him to say those exact words before revealing himself.

“I expect he is on his way,” T’Pring said calmly. “As it happened, the Sh’rel was already en route when we received word of your encounters.”

He studied her carefully. That sounded almost too calm. “Oh? The last message we had was that your departure had been delayed again.”

“The Council requested a delay,” T’Pring said, inclining her head slightly. “Our preparations had allowed us to depart earlier than scheduled, so we were unable to accommodate their request. As it turned out.”

Translation: they snuck out without telling anyone until it was too late to call them back without making the Council look bad. “Good for you.” For La’an’s benefit, he added, “Sybok is Spock’s older brother.”

“Ah,” she said. “I’m familiar with brothers who want to be involved.”

“That is a fitting description for Sybok. He would prefer to be involved in everything, but his spouses insist he at least makes an effort to delegate. Particularly when it comes to the safety of his siblings.”

T’Pring added, “In addition, the Alliance of Federated Planets would prefer that Sybok not need to involve himself at this time, officially.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “They’d like to have plausible deniability, you mean.”

Stonn nodded. “If Sybok gets officially involved, it will undoubtedly involve diplomatic negotiations between Vulcan and Earth.”

“Secret marriage stuff,” Jim explained. “Earth and Vulcan are both founding members of the AFP. They would much rather resolve any potential issues between the two planets without drama. And Sybok loves drama.”

“That is also a fitting description of Sybok,” T’Pring agreed. “Based on the situation upon our arrival, it seems our departure was well-timed.”

Translation: she would have been disappointed to miss out on seeing baby Spock, and Sybok hadn’t been the only one worried about them going off on their own.

“Isn’t there supposed to be someone else here?” he asked. “The fellowship participant?” That you kidnapped, he added silently.

“We did not kidnap Christine,” Stonn said immediately and out loud. Jim saw La’an’s expression go sharp and concerned. “She volunteered. It is an unparalleled opportunity to study a region of space that is historically significant and not widely inhabited.”

“You recruited her to be part of a research project on Vulcan. At the Vulcan Science Academy.” Jim waved at the ship around them, which was clearly not either of those things.

“T’Pring and I both hold positions at the VSA,” Stonn said. “As do you and Spock, though you rarely take advantage of them.”

He didn’t have time to decide which part of that to respond to first before someone hurried into the hangar bay. Christine, he presumed, unless the spatial anomalies had developed a new and concerning effect.

“Did I miss the introductions?” They held up one hand in a ta’al and waved with the other. “Hi. Christine Chapel, Human, so I can’t tell what you’re thinking or feeling. Sorry I’m late – I had to convince my program advisor I wasn’t being kidnapped.”

See? he thought at Stonn, who looked only the tiniest bit embarrassed.

“I am glad you were able to explain the situation to their satisfaction,” T’Pring said, and Jim blinked. That was unusually forthright for T’Pring. Downright expressive.

I’ll tell you later, Stonn sent.

Spock didn’t move, but his mental presence suddenly shifted. Jim felt – something, like an itch in the back of his head, and the air around Spock rippled in an eye-wateringly bright flash. When his eyes cleared, Spock was – Spock, again. Taller. Back to his usual age.

Christine was the first to break the silence. “What is happening right now?”

“I explained that a spatial anomaly had temporarily transformed Spock into his childhood body,” T’Pring said.

Christine nodded, barely. “Which makes no sense, but sure. I remember.”

“The duration of the effects of each anomaly are unknown. Spock has now returned to his adult self.”

While T’Pring had been talking, Spock had moved to stand directly in front of Christine, close enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes. “I see that,” she said. “Why is he holding my hand?”

“You’re also holding his hand,” Jim pointed out helpfully.

Christine was staring into Spock’s eyes. “We should go talk about this. Somewhere else.”

Yes. Spock’s mental voice echoed between all of them – even La’an, who startled.

“Allow me to escort you to a more shielded location,” T’Pring said. “La’an, you and I will speak afterwards.” She swept all four of them out of the hangar bay, leaving Jim and Stonn to themselves.

Jim let out a long breath. “I think that went well. Do you think that counts as our first meeting?” he asked.

Stonn raised one eyebrow. “Given the previous examples of your first meetings with each of us, I find it unlikely. I believe the appropriate Human expression in this instance would be ‘don’t bet on it.’”


*******

Jim loved the Le’matya 7, but coming back to the Sh’rel was a big step up in terms of luxury accommodations. And food. He’d been in the dining area for over an hour, stealing T’Pring’s tea and reviewing reports.

La’an sat down across from him and stared at him. “I’ve been reminded that I owe you a thank you,” she said. “So, thank you. Also, I told you so.”

Jim laughed. “You did, and you’re welcome. How did your conversation with T’Pring go?”

“It was – an experience.”

“That’s a common reaction. Still want to be her when you grow up?”

“Absolutely.” La’an nodded. “T’Pring said you would be the best person to ask any questions about –” She stopped, clearly trying to find some polite way to phrase the request.

“Everything that’s going on?” he guessed. “Spock and Christine? Why everyone is married? The war?”

“A little bit of all of those,” La’an agreed. “I know plenty about survival, and enough about what happened outside the colony to get by, most of the time. Not enough to be able to know what’s acceptable and what’s unspeakably rude when it comes to questions.”

Jim nodded. “That’s fair. The widely accepted generalization is that Vulcans think Humans are rude and uncouth, and Humans think Vulcans are aloof and opaque.” He shrugged. “Obviously the reality is much more complicated than that, but usually you can’t go wrong by being polite. It’s just not a great way to get your questions answered.”

He leaned forward in his chair and spread his hands out to the sides. “Consider this your free pass. Be as rude as you want – I promise not to get offended, and it won’t reflect badly on you.”

“Really.” La’an sounded skeptical.

Luckily, he’d never met an awkward situation he didn’t want to joke his way out of. “Still so suspicious, after everything we’ve been through together? Think of our pretend marriage! Think of our pretend son, even though he’s now older than me again!”

“Fine, fine,” she said, laughing. “First question: how many people are you married to?”

“First answer: it’s a reciprocal thing. We’re married to each other. Me, Spock, T’Pring, Stonn. Possibly Christine, after what happened earlier.”

La’an’s expression turned serious. “And will she get a choice in that?”

“Of course. What you saw when they met is a sign of extreme compatibility. It literally can’t be forced. Some Vulcan traditions would say their souls recognize each other.”

He met La’ans eyes so she knew he was being completely serious. “They’ll likely choose to be in each other's lives for as long as that lasts – not because they have to, but because they want to. How that looks will be totally up to them. Pen pals, best friends, spouses – there’s really no right or wrong way to be soulmates; they just are.”

La’an still seemed skeptical. “And yet spouses seems to be the usual outcome.”

“Well, you’ve met a very small sample size of soulmates. And having multiple marriage bonds is widely accepted in the AFP, with Betazed and Vulcan leading the way. In many ways, it’s what helped Vulcan win the Romulan War.”

La’an frowned, and shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

He wondered if the founders of her former colony had left Earth prior to the publicizing of the Romulan War, and the protests about joining it. “I doubt your history lessons would have covered this, even if they’d known about it. Vulcan still maintains a pretty strict classification of bond science as confidential medical information. But the shift towards multiple marriage bonds and the war are connected.”

He looked at La’an and raised his eyebrows. “You up for a speed-run through several hundred years of Vulcan history?”

She nodded, so he said, “Early in the Romulan War, Vulcan took heavy losses. Almost everyone was bonded to one person in childhood, and entered adulthood with a single marriage bond. Every casualty of the war had the potential to take out a second person from the shock of bond loss. They couldn’t train mind-healers fast enough, to the point where they – in the most Vulcan way possible – entreated Betazed for help.”

“Somehow I doubt it was that simple,” La’an said. “Doesn’t Betazed have a policy of not participating in conflicts?”

“And their alliance with Vulcan was relatively new at that time, yes. But they weren’t being asked for military help. They provided healers and scholars instead. And those healers and scholars recommended that instead of reducing dependence on the bonds, Vulcans could enhance it – and spread it out over a significantly wider network of people.”

He shrugged. “Skip ahead a century or two, and multiple spouses are strongly encouraged for all Vulcans, but especially those who serve in the Fleet. All of us have seen active duty. Even though we don’t like to think about it, if one of us died, the bonds would stabilize the rest and increase the chance they would survive.”

Apparently La’an didn’t find that comforting. “But it’s not a guarantee. You could still all die.”

“Is anything guaranteed? Everything alive runs the risk of dying. It’s who you are now that matters; that’s what you get to decide.”

La’an seemed more satisfied with that answer, and she looked at him thoughtfully. “You said you’re all married to each other, but you don’t all treat each other the same way. How do you avoid those differences creating conflict between you?”

“We’re all different people. Not all marriages are the same, just like not all friendships are the same. I’m not sure any group of people is able to avoid conflict, but you talk it through, you compromise. When you want to make something work, it’s amazing what you can come up with.”

“What about Spock and Stonn?” La’an asked. “They seem – antagonistic, for Vulcans.”

“It’s part of their charm,” Jim said. “They would die for each other, they would live with each other for the rest of their lives, they would raise children together. They’re bonded, with everything that means. They also both enjoy having someone they can heckle on a regular basis, and without any political repercussions.”

She knew who Spock was, right? She had indicated that she did, but that was before she’d said she was mostly lying about things like that. And Spock had introduced them both in full. Had it seemed like she believed them at the time?

“Even with Sybok taking the majority of the responsibility and public attention, Spock is still a public figure, and so is T’Pring. They’re both from wealthy families, lots of history, lots of political clout.” He waved a hand to indicate the very nice ship around them.

“In a different universe, they probably would have been promised to each other as children, and they would have grown up to be the power couple of Vulcan society.” He shrugged. In a lot of ways, they still are. There are always going to be expectations placed on them about how they interact with everyone else.”

The war had shifted a lot of that, but he thought he’d probably already talked enough. “But marriage bonds are sacrosanct – it doesn’t matter how many people have an opinion about them. So when T’Pring pretends she’s only tolerating me for Spock’s sake, and Spock pretends he’s only tolerating Stonn for my sake, it gives everyone something to talk about without actually causing any problems.”

“And you all have someone it’s safe to be rude to,” La’an said.

He pointed at her. “Exactly.”

“What about adding someone new, like you mentioned with Christine; is that – common?”

“Very,” he confirmed. “We’re actually the outliers with just the four of us for so long, but that’s complicated, and gets into a much longer story about the Earth-Vulcan alliance.” He hesitated, and then added, “Look, this is going to sound –”

“Rude?” La’an offered, with a hint of a smile.

“I was going to say arrogant, but rude works. If you’re worried about Christine, you should talk with her. But most people who apply for a fellowship with the Vulcan Science Academy would consider the increased chance of bonding with a Vulcan to be a selling point, not a concern.”

“You’re right,” La’an said. “That does sound arrogant. But –” She held up a hand to stop him from interrupting. “I don’t actually know. My perspective is – limited.” She looked at him like she was searching for something, and then nodded. “I trust you. And I’ll see if Christine is willing to talk with me.”

She leaned forward, and folded her hands on the table. “Now. What is it you haven’t told me about Spock?”

He mirrored her position and raised his eyebrows. “There are a lot of things I haven’t told you about Spock.”

“But there’s something in particular that you’ve been avoiding,” La’an said. “Why do Vulcan ships have portable spacesuit generators as standard safety gear?”

“Ah. That thing.” He waited a few seconds to see if a conveniently-timed alert would keep him from having to answer, but nothing happened. La’an looked at him expectantly.

“I wouldn’t say we’ve been avoiding it, exactly,” he hedged. “Although Spock always prefers to include a demonstration, which would have needed to wait until we were somewhere with a little more space.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “And neither of us were sure how you would react, given the colony’s views on genetic modification.”

“You’re really building this up,” La’an said flatly. “It better be something impressive.”

“It is.” He couldn’t help smiling. “Spock’s is, at least. He can shift forms – specifically, into a dragon. It’s very, very impressive. They don’t actually need ships to fly through space, it’s just faster and they can take all their things with them.”

La’an nodded slowly. “And that’s – because of genetic modification?”

He waved his hands. “No, no, that’s a Vulcan thing. All of them can do it; they’ve got records of it going back to the time of Surak. But when Earth found out about it…”

“They wanted to replicate it.”

He nodded. “No one ever managed a dragon, and experimentation with that level of modification was eventually banned. But they identified several genes associated with shifting, and activating them was a widespread practice at one time. It’s not exactly uncommon, even now, and it tends to run in families.”

La’an sat back and crossed her arms. “You’re saying you’re a shapeshifter.”

“Yes.” Maybe not the technical term, but close enough.

“Prove it.”

Oh, he should have seen this coming. This was a terrible idea. Something must have slipped through his mental shields, because Stonn breezed into the dining area. He didn’t even bother pretending it was a coincidence.

“James. La’an.” He stood next to Jim, close enough that it was essentially the Vulcan equivalent of draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Changing shapes isn’t something I do a lot in front of people who aren’t family,” Jim said, trying to look like he wasn’t nervous. “It’s not a secret, but it’s not exactly something that’s battle-ready like a dragon.”

Stonn was more blunt about it. “We have all agreed to trust you with this. Do not make us regret it.”

Jim shifted, and Stonn immediately scooped him up so he was back at eye level. I have you, Stonn sent. No harm will come to you here.

Jim meowed, and butted his head against Stonn’s shoulder. He was expecting something from La’an along the lines of ‘what is that?’ or, worse, ‘what use is a cat shape?’ Instead, she was – smiling?

“That is – so cute; I don’t even know what to say.” Her fingers twitched like she wanted to reach out and touch.

Well, who would have guessed that La’an had a soft spot for small fuzzy animals? Maybe the reveal wasn’t going so badly after all. That didn’t mean he was interested in changing back, though – cat priorities were much easier to manage. He settled more deeply into Stonn’s arms. Work done; day over. Time for rest.


*******

He woke up surrounded by warmth, physically and mentally. Having all of them in the same physical space was less common than any of them would prefer, and he let himself enjoy it. He hadn’t been in his other form for days; it felt good to stretch his spine and knead his paws (and claws) into the closest surface.

“That is my arm,” Spock murmured. “You are currently destroying my sleep shirt.”

We’re married, our assets are pooled. So I’m currently destroying our sleep shirt. Why are you wearing a shirt for sleeping?

Spock replied, Christine agreed to join us in our room to sleep. It seemed the respectful thing to do to maintain the same level of clothing that she did.

He lifted his head up to look around. Christine’s here?

It was immediately clear that Christine was not in the room. She left earlier, when she awoke. He could feel Spock’s amusement at his pouting. All of her belongings are still in her own room; it was the logical course of action.

Jim stretched, then shifted, so he could comfortably lie on his back and put his hand behind his head. Do you like her? Does she like us? He felt like he’d missed all the excitement the day before, caught up in repairs and reports.

There are mutual feelings of liking on all sides, Spock confirmed. She has many questions.

I’m glad. Questions mean she’s thinking about it. She is thinking about it, right? You two haven’t skipped the queue?

Spock leaned into him, and Jim could feel him shake his head. She is, and we have not. She is aware of our unique circumstances.

He felt Stonn and T’Pring both start paying attention, Stonn bracketing him on the side opposite Spock, and T’Pring just beyond. Jim leaned up on his elbows to look at them. “What’s the story with that? I thought the two of you weren’t involved with the fellowship this cycle.”

Stonn reached over and brushed his hair out of his eyes, as easy with his affection in this form as the other. “I stood in for one of the professors during the welcome and orientation sessions,” he said. “Christine correctly identified every instance of pre-Surakian notation in the test set – when challenged, she explained that ‘a friend showed her the trick to it.’”

He wanted to laugh, but he settled for saying, “Oh, I bet they didn’t like that.”

“Mm. She then proceeded to teach the technique to her entire fellowship cohort, while the supervising professor was busy trying to disprove it. He has yet to succeed.”

Spock was radiating a calm smugness that indicated he’d already heard this story, and fully approved. “So she wowed you with her brain and her willingness to share knowledge, and then you asked her out?”

T’Pring immediately said, “Do you see, Stonn? That would have been a logical progression.”

“I was moving slowly, out of respect,” Stonn insisted. “I am not unaware of the reputation of the fellowship, but it is a fact that many of the participants would prefer not to have their studies disturbed by courtships.”

“Stonn encouraged me to meet her instead, which led to a series of shared meals,” T’Pring said. “I believed things were progressing as expected. It is not uncommon for courtships to carry on for some time without direct acknowledgement, as long as the participants actively work towards completing each step.”

She sounded – not distressed, but definitely not thrilled. Jim pushed himself all the way up to a sitting position so he could see her more clearly. Spock grumbled, but sat up as well and started a series of stretches. “Somehow I’m guessing that’s not exactly what was happening.”

T’Pring sighed. “During one of our lunches, Christine expressed that she was particularly grateful to have been accepted to the VSA fellowship program because Vulcans are honest. She specifically praised the Vulcan tendency to ‘say what they mean without a lot of vague metaphors.’”

“That’s a direct quote,” Stonn added. “You might guess, this negated a full 57.89 percent of T’Pring’s courtship plans, which up until that point had been contingent upon her usual indulgence in metaphor.”

T’Pring managed to give the impression of indignance without actually moving. “It is not indulgence, it’s subtlety. It is an art. And you were not having any more success than I was.”

“I was not,” Stonn said. “As it turned out, Christine had no idea we were attempting a courtship, or that several other families were interested in doing the same.”

It was better than a holonovel, though he did his best to keep that thought to himself. “So, what happened next? Don’t keep me in suspense, here.”

“Sybok happened next,” Stonn said dryly.

“How did Sybok even find out?”

“Sybok has an extensive social network,” Spock said, which probably meant Sybok had been spying on his family members again. “He does not often see a need to exercise discretion in his words or actions.”

T’Pring didn’t sigh again, but he was pretty sure she wanted to. “Sybok, in his capacity as the First Prince, made an official visit to the VSA, at which point he publicly declared his intention to court Christine on the Second Prince’s behalf. He then named us as his – and therefore Spock’s – representatives in this endeavor.”

Jim could absolutely picture Sybok doing exactly that. It was harder to guess what the reaction would have been. “Uh-huh. And how did that go over?”

“Many explanations were required,” Stonn said. “Amanda became involved, and then Michael as well.”

T’Pring took up the story again. “Sybok nearly caused a diplomatic incident when he discovered that Christine’s previous posting had been on board the Enterprise, under Captain Pike.”

Jim shook his head. “He really needs to let that go.”

T’Pring raised her eyebrow at him. “I do not believe that to be a logical expectation, given that he clearly has no desire to do so.”

“There’s more,” Stonn said, and Jim felt his own eyebrows going up. More? He could only guess at how disruptive the entire thing had been for the steeped-in-tradition VSA. No wonder the Council had been giving them a hard time. “Michael found out that before her time on the Enterprise, Christine was a field medic. She was on Vulcan during the siege, assisting on the ground. Because she was a volunteer, she never received official recognition for her efforts.”

“I’m guessing Michael was prepared to cause her own diplomatic incident over that?” he asked, and Stonn nodded. He turned to look at Spock. “And you’re all right with all of this?” It was a lot of attention for someone who notoriously preferred to avoid the spotlight.

Spock looked indecisive. “Our souls are in harmony. I am grateful that we have had the opportunity to meet, despite circumstances I would consider less than ideal. Christine is determined to see the humor in the situation. As she is the one most directly impacted, I am willing to – follow her lead, at this time.”

“Good,” T’Pring said, not indecisive at all.

“Yes,” Stonn agreed. “Especially good since the high-profile nature of Sybok’s declaration led many others to express their interest as well. Despite the First Prince’s assurances that he was perfectly capable of handling the proxy courtship in our absence, we had – some concerns, about the plan.”

“I did not panic,” T’Pring insisted. “I merely realized that a reconsideration of strategy would be required, something which would be challenging to assess without consistent feedback.”

Stonn’s expression said ‘if you say so,’ but his actual words were, “So we invited Christine to come with us. It has been an illuminating journey.”

“I bet,” Jim said. “Isn’t that against the courtship rules? Removing the court-ee from the planet?”

“Technically, it is within the rules. Our itinerary is a matter of public record. And Christine has remained in communication with both Michael and Amanda as we made our way here from Vulcan.” T’Pring paused, and then added, “I expect she has introduced La’an to them as well.”

Jim tried to imagine Amanda and La’an sitting down to a conversation and found it surprisingly plausible. Amanda truly had a gift for putting people at ease.

It still seemed like the slimmest of technicalities, but then again, that was probably exactly what everyone expected from them. “I’m obviously not opposed. No objections from me; this is great news.”

Spock was happy about it, and if Spock was happy, Sybok was happy. If Sybok was happy, the Council was – well, probably a little nervous. But theoretically, they were happy too, and a happy Council meant less pressure on him and Spock. Winning all around, really.

A new possibility suddenly occurred to him. “Christine’s not secretly a princess, is she? Or the child of some sort of high-ranking military or diplomatic officer?” Because that would be fine, obviously, it would just require a whole new round of negotiations, and his family was already giving him enough grief about the delays as it was.

“She is not,” Spock said calmly.

He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know?”

“I asked.”

“You asked. Of course you did.” Of course Spock would anticipate his question, and make sure he had an answer. Jim let himself lean sideways so that Spock was supporting his weight. “Thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary,” Spock said, and he let himself just – be supported, for a bit.

It was T’Pring who finally broke the silence. “What about La’an?” she asked.

“Is La’an secretly a princess, you mean? I don’t think so. Not one that would be recognized by the AFP, at least.”

T’Pring gave him a pointed look. “We discussed her background at length during our initial conversation. I was referring to her connection with you.”

Jim’s brain was still catching up with that when Stonn asked, “First Christine, and now La’an?” His mental presence was a combination of gentle teasing and genuine interest. “I didn’t realize you were so personally dedicated to improving relations with Earth.”

“I am personally dedicated to increasing the number of women in this marriage,” T’Pring answered. “As I have stated multiple times previously.”

“And you decided an in-depth interview with someone we met two days ago was a logical way to select a candidate?” He loved T’Pring – loved all of them, more than words could express. Her brain made leaps and connections he would never have considered; sometimes he could track back to see the reasoning of it, and sometimes it was just – “Why?”

“You like her,” T’Pring said simply. “And she likes you.”

Stonn slid closer and knocked their feet together. “Consider this: we can’t all follow your strategy of waiting to be trapped in a small space with someone to decide on our next spouse.”

T’Pring’s expression turned thoughtful. “Although from my understanding, that has already happened with La’an, and she has spent the last 2.6 hours discussing the situation with Christine. Perhaps the strategy has more merit than I had previously assigned to it.”

Jim rolled his eyes, and then rolled to his feet. “I agree to think more about this, on the condition that we are not talking about it right now. Don’t we have a meeting to get to?”


*******

The ship had plenty of rooms large enough for all six of them to meet, but the dining area, bedroom, shuttle bay, and bridge were all vetoed for one reason or another. (Stonn insisted it was unprofessional to hold the meeting in the bedroom or dining area, and Spock pointed out that the ship had a conference room, which Jim had entirely forgotten. The last time he’d been in there it had been serving as overflow Medical.)

It made a perfectly adequate meeting space, and he resisted the urge to tap his fingers on the table. Spock reached out and tucked their hands together. Completely scandalous, of course, but if you couldn’t be scandalous in front of your family and friends, where could you be?

“The Le’matya?” Spock prompted.

He shook his head to clear it. “Repairs are as complete as they’re going to get without spacedock-level resources,” he answered. “Warp drive is functional, but I wouldn’t recommend pushing it.”

“Warp is not recommended in this sub-sector regardless, due to the spatial instability,” Stonn added, and Spock nodded.

In a reversal of their usual order, T’Pring was seated at his other side, and Spock looked to her next. T’Pring called up a file on the main screen that showed their current position in the sub-sector. “There have been no signs of other ships on our sensors. We have likewise not detected any spatial anomalies.”

Stonn overlaid the image with the limited information they had regarding the anomaly that had transformed Spock. “Data analysis of the Le’matya’s sensor logs is ongoing. It is possible that some aspect about the asteroids themselves reduces the likelihood of spatial anomaly formation.”

Jim turned to La’an. She was seated on the other side of Spock, between him and Christine. “Did your ship have the same experience in proximity to the asteroid field?”

La’an shook her head. “No, but we never made it this far into the sub-sector. We likely weren’t close enough to notice any difference.”

Spock changed the image on the screen to show his medical file. “We have compared my physical and mental scans from before the incident and after, and there appear to be no lingering effects. However, it would be prudent to avoid interaction with the spatial anomalies as much as possible.”

Stonn said, “We’ve charted several possible routes from our current location to the edge of the sub-sector. The shortest route would theoretically include the least likelihood of encountering an anomaly.” He looked like it pained him a little to have to call it theoretical, but the anomalies were still refusing to act as anything other than anomalous, so theory was all they had to go on.

Christine raised her hand, and said, “Look, I know I’m new here, but I’ve got a question.”

“Please, ask,” Spock said.

“Not for you, but thank you.” She leaned forward, looking directly at Jim. “Does this happen often?”

He blinked. “Which part? Spatial anomalies that can transform people into children? Running away from our political responsibilities so we can investigate said spatial anomalies? Someone accidentally soul bonding with one of us spontaneously, instead of following courting and bond protocol?”

Christine narrowed her eyes. “I was specifically referring to that first one, but consider my curiosity piqued on all three.”

“Yes,” he said. “To all three.” He thought about it. “I’m just guessing on the first one, actually.” He tapped a few numbers into the screen next to him, and sent it to the main screen so everyone could see the math.

“Based on the seemingly random nature of the spatial anomalies in this area, there’s a theoretically infinite number of potential effects, making another child transformation anomaly statistically unlikely. Then again, ‘often’ is a relative term.”

“And the anomalies might not be random,” Christine said.

He leaned back in his chair, and she mirrored him. “Do we have any reason to think that might be the case?”

“Do we have any reason to think it isn’t the case?” Christine countered. “Just because we haven’t found a pattern yet doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

That was fair. “I also have a question,” he said. “For La’an. Before we leave the asteroid field – what’s the story with this outpost you were looking for?”

To her credit, La’an didn’t even blink when she suddenly had the attention of everyone in the room. “It’s not me who’s looking for it, exactly. The captain of the ship we were rescued by. She’s Illyrian. She found some records that hinted at an Illyrian outpost in this area, centuries ago. Something about revealing lost history.”

Jim nodded slowly, trying to parse that into some kind of driving motivation. “So, probably some kind of secret technology or classified information. Or a complete wild goose chase.”

“Most likely,” La’an agreed.

“I think we should try to find it.”

“I do not,” T’Pring replied immediately. “Your reports indicate that the spatial anomalies are more numerous and less predictable than expected. You have also already encountered a hostile force with unknown intentions. At least one ship is still unaccounted for.”

That was true. On the other hand… “The asteroids are right here, though. And the occurrence of spatial anomalies seems significantly reduced within the field. We could plot a course out of the sub-sector that took us through the asteroid field, potentially meeting both objectives.”

Stonn switched the screen for an estimated map of the asteroid field, along with the . “Our scans of the asteroid field are incomplete; the composition of the asteroids is limiting the range of our sensors. There is a possibility that there is no safe path through the asteroid field.”

Spock expanded the view, and selected one of the course projections. “This course would take us away from the asteroid field, to the closest edge of the sub-sector. Once outside, we will be better able to assess the options available.”

Jim shrugged. “That works too. If the timing lines up, we may be able to meet up with Sybok and have backup for those options. The asteroids will still be there tomorrow, or next week.”

La’an looked back and forth between them. “I thought you wanted to try to find the outpost,” she said.

“I thought you wanted to find the outpost,” he countered. “The situation inside this sub-sector is significantly more dangerous than expected; there’s no reason to risk anyone’s lives for treasure hunting.”

La’an’s expression took a journey, and he almost laughed. He tried to make his own face look indignant instead. “You thought I was the kind of person who would prioritize treasure hunting over safety, didn’t you?”

“I – maybe, yes,” La’an admitted.

“Look, everyone who goes to space does it for a reason. Everyone who decides to stay in space does it for a reason too.”

Here we go, Stonn sent.

Jim sent back, Shh. It’s a good speech; I modified it from one of Sam’s.

Out loud, he said, “I stay in space because I love it. Exploring the unknown, seeking out new life, expanding our understanding of the universe – that’s why we’re here. Things like secret tech and classified information? Those are somewhere much further down the list.”

Spock squeezed his hand gently. ’Completely changed it’ would be more accurate. It is a good speech. They should know your priorities.

La’an was still staring at him, but she nodded, and said, “That hasn’t been my experience, but – thank you. For explaining.”

Spock took the lead as they left the conference room, but Christine gestured for Jim to hang back. She studied him carefully. “I’m just here for the company, but did you steal that speech from Captain Pike? Or did he steal it from you?”

T’Pring didn’t bother to pretend she wasn’t listening. “Is the origin of the speech important to know before judging its veracity?”

“We both stole it from my brother,” Jim offered. “Who probably got it from a speechwriter, so it’s fine.”

“Your brother – as in George Kirk, the xenoanthropologist?” Christine asked. “His work on the Betazed influences of Tellar Prime ruins is a legend. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shook his head. “That’s just not usually people’s biggest association with Sam. He’ll love it, though. I’ll tell you what – once we’re out of this sub-sector, I’ll get him on a call, and you can tell him yourself.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Christine warned.

“I look forward to it.”

Unfortunately, it looked like that call was going to be delayed. They’d only been underway for an hour when the proximity alert started blaring. The viewscreen was suddenly showing multiple ships in front of them, even though it had been perfectly clear seconds ago.

“Sensors detect eight ships; closing on all sides.”

“Shields up.” Where did they come from? “Is it the same ships as before?”

Unknown.

“Incoming phaser fire. Brace for impact!”

The ship lurched to the side, and damage readouts started scrolling on one of his side screens. “Minor hull damage; shields are holding.”

Spatial anomaly detected. “Two anomalies. Three. They are multiplying.”

Something flashed towards them, and the ship lurched again. “That wasn’t phasers.” Why are they shooting at us? “Can we return fire?”

“Phaser banks are non-functional.”

Do not go out there.

“Something’s latched onto the hull.” Biological? Mechanical?

“Shields at 17%.”

“Sensors can’t get a reading on it. Possible hull breach.”

Bulkheads deployed.

“Options?”

Run or fight. Comms are down.

“There’s too many of them.”

“Do we still have warp engines?”

Spatial anomaly detected within the ship. “Power levels fluctuating.”

I thought warp was inadvisable.

“Re-routing power to life support.”

“Warp is inadvisable. Dying is unacceptable.”

The ship shuddered under another barrage of phaser fire. Impulse engines offline.

“We’re out of time. Warp us out of here.”

Please let this work.

The familiar lines of warp blurred alarmingly, shifted rapidly through the visible spectrum until it reached an eye-searing shade of pink, and then –


*******

He woke up surrounded by warmth, physically and mentally. Having all of them in the same physical space was less common than any of them would prefer, and he let himself enjoy it. He’d spent time in his other form just yesterday, but it still felt good to stretch his spine and knead his paws into the closest surface.

“That is my arm,” Spock murmured. “You are currently destroying my sleep shirt.”

We’re married, our assets are pooled. So I’m currently destroying our sleep shirt. Why are you wearing – He froze. Have we had this conversation before?

Spock’s reply was cautious. I do not believe so, no.

Jim shifted to being person-shaped. “Well, I believe so. We had this exact exchange yesterday morning.”

T’Pring and Stonn were already awake, and they both sat up to look at him. “Yesterday morning we were en route to your last known location,” Stonn said.

Spock added, “My memory of yesterday morning is of being a child.” He frowned. “However, I can sense that your memories are not the same.”

“I remember this,” Jim insisted. “We had a whole discussion about Christine, and Sybok declaring a courtship on your behalf, and Michael causing a diplomatic incident over the treatment of volunteer field medics. How would I know those things if you hadn’t told me?”

T’Pring put one of her hands over his, and the other on the back of his neck. Her mental touch was as soothing as the physical ones. “Your memories are real,” she said. She switched one hand to Spock. “I do not understand how this could have happened.”

“We should check with the others,” Stonn said. “Their memories may be affected as well. Perhaps we can determine an explanation.”

It didn’t get any better when they gathered up Christine and La’an. They sat around the conference room table in exactly the same seats he remembered, except this time all the attention was on him.

“Is it possible a spatial anomaly is causing you to hallucinate?” Christine asked.

He tried not to look offended. “Is it possible a spatial anomaly is causing you to have amnesia? Look, I’m telling you, I’ve experienced hallucinations before, and that’s not what this is. I remember a series of events that took place on this day, and when I woke up none of them had happened yet.”

“It is not only James,” T’Pring said. “I am able to recall the same conversations he remembers having the first time he experienced this day, but the memory is without context. I cannot recall when it happened, or the events that occurred before or after it. It is – troubling.”

“We might all be hallucinating,” La’an suggested.

“Have the sensors detected any spatial anomalies?” Spock asked. “It is possible that we have encountered one without realizing it, and it has in some way caused our current situation.”

“Negative,” Stonn said. “There are no indications of spatial anomalies or other ships at this time. And yet – I agree with T’Pring. The memories are vague, but I am convinced the six of us have been in this room before.”

He looked at La’an. “The captain of the ship you were rescued by is an Illyrian.” He turned to Jim. “You agreed to give Christine your weekly call time with your brother. I know these things without knowing how I know them.”

Jim nodded. “Yesterday – the yesterday that I remember, we ran into dozens of spatial anomalies when we were attempting to leave the area. Including one that formed within the ship itself.”

“They do that,” La’an confirmed grimly.

Christine was frowning. “That does sound – familiar, somehow? Even though I don’t actually remember it happening.”

“One of the anomalies my ship encountered gave people memories of an alternate dimension,” La’an said. “This could be something similar.”

An alternate dimension? “I absolutely want to hear more about that, but I don’t think that’s what happened here. I have memories of a single different day – this day, and then it was like the day… restarted, somehow.”

“What about time travel, or a time loop,” Christine suggested, and T’Pring nodded.

“It is possible. When all logical options have been ruled out, the illogical must be considered.”

Stonn made a face that on a Human would be mild discontent, and on a Vulcan was more like full-blown panic. “There have been no reports of spatial anomalies in this sub-sector having time travel properties. The Vulcan Fleet would have been informed immediately.”

Spock said, “We were not informed of the high number of spatial anomalies. The reports from this area have been limited in quantity and content. It is possible this is a recent development.” Or that information has been suppressed.

“That is true,” T’Pring replied. There are references in several historical records of an outside force becoming involved in cases of time displacement. They are… oblique, but present.

La’an was looking back and forth along the table. “Are you talking to each other in your heads again?”

Christine glanced up from her padd. “Oh, are we going to talk about that now? I thought maybe we weren’t supposed to mention it.”

He didn’t have to look to know that Spock was raising his eyebrow. “Vulcans are known to have telepathic abilities.”

Christine wiggled the padd in the air. “I’ve been making some notes, trying to piece together what I remember, or sort of remember. And I know for sure I don’t have any telepathic abilities.”

Jim wondered where she’d heard that, because he was fairly certain it wasn’t true. It might have been true before she accidentally soul-bonded with Spock, he supposed. Christine looked at T’Pring. “But you did something telepathic in the first timeline, right? When we were attacked. What was that, some kind of gestalt thing?”

Jim looked at Spock. Spock looked at T’Pring. Stonn closed his eyes and rubbed the center of his forehead like he was trying to stave off a headache.

“Yes,” T’Pring said. Well, she was the one trying to be more honest. “It is… a gestalt thing.”

“It is most effective between bonded adults,” Spock added calmly. “It is a way to share large quantities of information more quickly than spoken words would allow. It is most often used in situations where many decisions must be made rapidly, and can occur spontaneously in those situations.”

Jim leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “It’s also the reason why most AFP ships tend to have all-bonded bridge crews, even if they’re not bonded to each other. According to the rules, anyone from a member planet is allowed to serve in any role on a ship, but for people who haven’t experienced a mental bond already, it can be – disconcerting, to either be left out of the gestalt, or to be pulled into it.”

Stonn looked up finally. “It is also considered classified information,” he said. “Although exceptions have been made before.” He looked at Jim. “Multiple times.”

“I signed literally dozens of NDAs to join the fellowship,” Christine said. “Pretty sure one of them covers this.”

La’an shrugged. “I don’t legally have an identity within the Alliance of Federated Planets, so it’s probably fine.”

T’Pring said, “I suggest we put off discussion of confidentiality and exceptions until a time when we have more resources and fewer more pressing priorities.”

Translation: with Sybok likely already on his way to meet them, there was no reason to discuss it. Either they would leave the sub-sector and meet Sybok outside of it (and he would wave away any legal conundrums with his usual ease), or Sybok would enter the sub-sector to find them, and they’d have a much bigger problem on their hands.

He shook his head to clear it. “Right. I think we can all agree that something happened, and that there’s no way for us to know for certain what exactly it was. So what are we going to do about it?”

Stonn said, “Although the reason is unknown, the spatial anomalies seem to be confined to this sub-sector. I suggest our primary goal should be to leave the area.”

Spock nodded, and gestured to the screen. “This course would take us to the closest edge of the sub-sector while still avoiding the location you remember from our potential future confrontation. Once we are outside the range of the anomalies, we will be better able to assess the options available.”

He didn’t like it. “We could avoid it more effectively by picking a completely different course. Back the way the Sh’rel came, maybe.”

Spock linked their fingers together under the table. In an uncertain universe, logic can still guide our path. “If we have indeed experienced these events before, then repeating our previous actions as closely as possible will provide the most predictable results, and would thus be the best option for changing those results in our favor.”

“It is the logical option,” T’Pring said, with some reluctance.

“And if it leads us into a trap? Again?” I think the ship exploded when we went to warp, Spock. I don’t know if I can take that again. Even once was too many.

“It will not be a trap if we are expecting it. As we are forewarned of the potential danger, we will know to avoid the area where the other ships appeared, and to avoid engaging the warp drive.”

It was as good a plan as any, he supposed. “All right. Let’s make it happen.”

They ran as dark as possible, trying to reduce their sensor presence. They couldn’t be sure how, or even if, the other ships were tracking them. Even the interior lights were dimmed. It was a little too reminiscent of the war to let him relax, but the trip remained uneventful past the mark when they’d run into trouble the first time around.

“We are approaching the edge of the sub-sector. No other ships detected.”

He was almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief when an alarm started flashing on his console.

“There is a spatial anomaly forming inside the ship.” Spock’s voice was steady, in contrast to his mental presence, which was bright with worry. This is not how spatial anomalies work.

“Internal sensors are recording. Can we maneuver away?”

Watch the results live; the sensor logs won’t loop even if we do.

Can we outrun it?

“It is moving with us. And expanding.”

“System failures are expanding with it.” It’s happening again.

Is it feeding off the ship’s power? “Impulse engines are offline. Can we cut power?”

“Controls are unresponsive.”

“Power levels are fluctuating.”

The lights on the bridge brightened and then blurred. The light shifted rapidly through the visible spectrum until it reached an eye-searing shade of pink, and then –


*******

He woke up surrounded by warmth, physically and mentally. Having all of them in the same physical space was less common than any of them would prefer, and he let himself enjoy it. He didn’t often sleep in his other form, but It felt good to stretch his spine and knead his paws into the closest surface.

“That is my arm,” Spock murmured. “You are currently destroying my sleep shirt.”

We’re – He froze, and then shifted to his person form. “We’re stuck in a time loop. Please tell me you remember this time.”

Spock frowned. “I – am unsure.” He grasped Jim’s wrist in his hand, and stared at him carefully. “We have had a similar conversation before, correct? You – had reason to believe the ship would be destroyed if we engaged the warp drive.” He shook his head. “I remember things I cannot place in any context.”

“As do I,” T’Pring agreed.

“An anomaly formed within the ship,” Stonn said. “I remember that much.”

They met in the conference room again. Jim made everyone switch seats – it was already getting confusing trying to keep the loops separate in his head; there was no need to make it harder by sitting the same way each time.

“Is it possible a spatial anomaly is causing all of us to experience a shared hallucination?” Christine asked.

He pointed at her. “Good question, but no.”

“How do you know?” she asked, and then frowned. “Wait, did I ask that question before? And you said it was different than when you previously experienced hallucinations?”

“Yes, and yes,” he answered.

“We need to get out of here,” La’an said. “I don’t like things that mess with my head.”

“Agreed,” he said easily. “How?”

“This is the third time we have experienced this day,” T’Pring said, putting a map of the area on the main screen. “During the previous two instances, we attempted to leave the sub-sector using variations on this course.”

She highlighted the most direct path to the closest edge of the sub-sector. “Both times we were unsuccessful.” She added another route in nearly the opposite direction. “The Sh’rel did not encounter any spatial anomalies on our initial route through the sub-sector. Backtracking that course may be a viable option.”

“The anomalies are not stationary,” Spock said carefully. T’Pring’s expression clearly indicated ‘if you have a better idea, please do feel free to share it.’ Spock conceded the point with a tilt of his head.

“When the logical course of action has failed, it becomes logical to seek an illogical alternative,” T’Pring offered.

“I like the way you think,” Christine told her.

Half the table was hiding smiles when T’Pring blushed. (The other half didn’t bother to hide them.) “Great,” he said. “Let’s make it happen.”

Their path remained clear of other ships. It did not, however, remain clear of spatial anomalies.

“Evasive maneuvers!” This is starting to feel repetitive.

“Anomaly is expanding. Brace for impact.” There is always a reason to keep trying.

The anomaly swept through the ship and set every alarm they had blaring a warning. He felt a sudden shift in gravity, like he’d caught himself after tripping over something that wasn’t there. And then everything around him seemed – bigger.

He suddenly had a much better understanding of why Spock had struggled to describe the sensation. He knew he was an adult – he remembered growing up, remembered how he felt about the people around him just a few minutes ago. And yet his brain and body were insisting to him that he was a child, and that he should react to those people as if they were children too.

“Fascinating,” Spock said. “The individual effects of the anomalies are highly unpredictable; the odds of us encountering a repeated effect are… incalculably low.”

Jim whistled. “If you can’t calculate it, that means it’s really, really low.”

T’Pring put her hands on her hips. “And yet we are all children. How do you explain this.”

Spock scowled. “It is… unexpected. There is no logical explanation for this phenomenon.”

He took Spock’s hand. “Don’t fight, okay?”

T’Pring’s mental voice was impressive even as a child. Peace, James. We are as one.

“It appears the effects of the anomaly extended beyond transforming our physical selves,” Stonn said, interrupting the moment. “Something has happened to the ship as well.”

That was really vague for a Vulcan. And his voice sounded weird. Jim pulled Spock with him to look over Stonn’s shoulder. “What is it?”

“According to this, the ship is not moving,” Stonn said. He tilted his head to the side like the sensor readings might make more sense that way. “The computer thinks we are – not.”

“Not moving?” Christine asked.

Stonn shook his head. “Not anything.” The sensors were unable to come to any conclusions about what had just happened or where they were. They showed no motion through space. No indication that they were in space at all, in fact.

Jim pulled up the ship’s chronometer on the main viewscreen, and they all watched the seconds tick forward. And then back. Then forward again, far too slowly. And then back.

“I don’t like this,” La’an said flatly.

“Really?” Christine sounded like she couldn’t understand why La’an would say something like that. “But this is incredible! We’re existing outside of space and time! We may be the only people to have ever experienced this!”

She looked like she was nearly vibrating in place in her excitement. “I’m going to the Medical Bay, and I’m going to test absolutely everything. Do you think I’m tall enough to work the brain scanner like this?”

They watched her bound off the bridge, headed towards the Medical Bay. Everyone was quiet – he thought they might all be a little dazed by tiny whirlwind Christine.

“I will go with her,” T’Pring said finally. “For supervision.”

He nodded. “Good idea. Probably best if no one goes anywhere on their own.”

“No one needs to babysit me,” La’an said. “I’m going to my room.”

She is very frightened, Spock sent softly.

Jim squeezed his hand. I know. Underneath the thoughts was the feeling – they were both scared too. “I’ll go, and see if she wants to talk about it.”

Stonn grasped his other hand, and they all breathed together for a moment. “It is unprecedented,” Stonn said quietly. “But it is also very interesting.”

Jim beamed at him. “Right? Scary, but exciting scary. Let me know what you find out, okay?”

He found La’an in the conference room, which was way better than trying to talk to her through the door of her quarters. She glared at him when she saw him. “I said I didn’t need a babysitter.”

He put both hands up in surrender. “I know. I thought I could show you how to get the computer to show you things in Allied Standard instead of Vulcan. It’ll make it easier if there’s any kind of alert.”

“You mean it could have been doing that this whole time?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes? Not on the shuttle; that’s a private ship. It’s T’Pring’s favorite shuttle; did we tell you that? But the Sh’rel is officially an AFP ship, so Allied Standard is required.” He made a face. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you.”

La’an waved it off. “What do you think will happen if the time loop happens while we’re still children?” she asked.

“Maybe we’ll all turn back?” he offered. Mostly he’d been trying not to think about it.

“Or we might get stuck like this,” La’an said gloomily.

Jim poked at her arm until she swatted his hand away. “So you’ve always been a bundle of optimism, huh?”

“I don’t see you celebrating the joys of childhood either,” La’an told him.

“Nuh-uh. Nope. No way.” He shook his head. “I didn’t love being a child the first time around; I’m not interested in doing it again. I already miss being tall.”

“I miss my brother,” La’an said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

He kept his voice quiet too, or as quiet as he could manage when he was a kid. “Yeah? Is he on the ship you were on before?”

La’an nodded. “What if – what if this happened to them too? And they’re just – not, anymore?”

“Hey.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find them.” He drummed his feet against the legs of the chair, already itching to move. “You know what I’m thinking about?”

La’an looked at him blankly. “No.”

“Food. We should eat something. Do you think our bodies are aging while we’re stuck in the time loop? So my brain thinks I haven’t had any food for three days, but my body doesn’t?”

“Are you hungry?” La’an asked.

He shrugged. “I guess. Let’s see if there’s anything in the dining area. We could make sandwiches.”

“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out how to get out of here? Or at least not be children anymore?”

“Why? Do you have any ideas?”

La’an glared at him again. “No. Do you?”

“Nope! But I’ve got an idea about eating, so let’s do that first. We can call the others when we have food ready.”

The dining area wasn’t exactly set up for non-adult-sized people (which was really an accessibility issue they should address; he was already half-planning a letter to the AFP Council). But they made it work with a creative application of tactical skills – mostly climbing on the counters, along with a willingness to repurpose various kitchen tools.

“It’s logical to make sure you eat the nutrients your body needs,” Jim insisted, and that was enough to get the Vulcans to show up. (He wasn’t sure how T’Pring convinced Christine; some things were just destined to remain a mystery.)

And so no one was watching the internal sensors when a spatial anomaly blinked into existence – and nonexistence, simultaneously – inside the ship. They were eating – sharing food and space, and holding each other together, a beacon of trust and hope in the darkness.

They didn’t notice the anomaly until the lights in the dining area brightened and then blurred. The light shifted rapidly through the visible spectrum until it reached an eye-searing shade of pink, and then –


*******

He woke up surrounded by warmth, physically and mentally. Having all of them in the same physical space was less common than any of them would prefer, and he let himself enjoy it. He tucked himself further into the crook of Spock’s elbow.

We’re stuck in a time loop, he sulked.

“Yes,” Spock murmured. “I remember this time.”

They gathered in the conference room silently. Jim refused to change out of his cat shape, and was testing out each lap in turn. He finally settled with Christine, who turned out to be very willing to scratch under his chin in just the right way to be calming.

La’an was giving him a look, though. He looked back at her. She raised her eyebrows and glanced pointedly between him and Christine. What? He hadn’t told her not to tell Christine about him; she could have shared that information at any time.

Apparently she hadn’t, though. Fine.

“I suggest we spend this loop doing research,” Spock said, calmly lifting his padd out of the way as Jim stalked across the table in front of him, headed for T’Pring. La’an wouldn’t be able to see him in T’Pring’s lap, so it would remain peacefully look free.

“We are now all aware of the time loop effect, and able to remember the events of each one. There may be information we previously missed that could now be analyzed more effectively. Anything we can find out about the anomalies and their effects is likely to benefit us in future loops.”

It was a very Vulcan way of saying they were taking the loop off (to do science, even!), and he was very much in favor.

T’Pring gently rubbed the fur between his ears. “Spock, I suggest you attempt to contact Sybok. I will work with Christine and La’an on the bridge controls.

“James,” Stonn said quietly.

I don’t want to.

“Wait, the cat is James?” Christine asked. “I thought he was skipping the meeting to do something else, and that was like, the ship’s cat. I was wondering why I hadn’t seen it before.”

“Why would the ship have a cat?” T’Pring asked.

Christine frowned. “Why wouldn’t the ship have a cat?”

Stonn ignored both of them. “I will carry you,” he said.

Jim leapt to Stonn’s shoulder, and knocked their heads together gently. Thank you. When he felt like this, he wasn’t good company for anyone, but Stonn had the most patience for his antics. They had each already seen each other at their worst, and come out the other side of it stronger.

Stonn took them to the science lab, which had the benefit of being far away from the bridge and crew quarters. It was also somewhere he hadn’t been yet for any of the loops, which he expected Stonn knew and had done on purpose.

Meditation as a cat was mostly just dozing, but the quiet sounds of Stonn organizing data and brewing tea were as soothing as ever. Finally, he lifted his head and blinked at the screen.

“I have tea for you also,” Stonn said. “And I could use your help with this.”

Tea did sound good. Stonn’s lab blend was even better than T’Pring’s dining area blend. He shifted, and Stonn handed him the cup without a word.

“Thank you,” he said again, out loud this time.

“You are most welcome. Now, what do you know about extradimensional beings?”

Jim frowned. “My brother wrote a paper on them? Their existence is theoretical but logically sound, given our current understanding of the universe.”

Stonn nodded. “I have been reviewing the data from the Le’matya’s sensor logs, along with our own since we entered this sub-sector.”

“I thought the data was too limited to form a predictable pattern,” Jim said.

“Correct. Making conjectures with limited information is not recommended, but sometimes unavoidable. One possible explanation for the spatial anomalies is the intermittent presence of extra-dimensional beings, intruding on this plane of existence, and causing, in essence, the warping of reality as we currently understand it.”

He let his brain work through that. “Any conjectures on why the effects seem to be so much more frequent than we expected?”

“There is a lack of detailed historical data from this sub-sector.” Stonn didn’t bother to hide his disappointment about that fact. “This could be a new development, or simply part of a natural pattern of ebb and flow.”

Jim tapped his fingers on the table. “What about what Christine said? Maybe she was onto something.”

Stonn’s fingers echoed his rhythm. “Christine has said many things; presumably many of them are correct.”

“Maybe the anomalies aren’t random.”

Stonn nodded, and put a different readout on the screen. “It is possible. Your idea about cutting the power, from two loops ago, may also provide a direction for investigation.”

“You think the anomalies might be drawn to power output.”

He wasn’t trying to sound skeptical, but Stonn raised an eyebrow at him. “You are the one who surmised that the anomalies might be drawn to power output. You have a notable history of making intuitive leaps in high-stress situations.”

“I think that must be another one of your conjectures.” It hadn’t happened that many times, surely.

“James. There is more data to support your intuitive skill than to support the theory that extradimensional beings are the cause of the spatial anomalies.”

“It really hasn’t happened that many times,” he insisted.

“That is an incomplete and subjective statement,” Stonn answered. “And as one of those times was when we escaped a Denobulan prison together, I assure you it was quite memorable.”

‘Memorable’ was certainly – a word, that could be used to describe the event. He didn’t actually remember it that well himself, given the circumstances, but he could understand why Stonn might. “I think that turned out pretty well,” he said, gesturing around the room.

Stonn correctly interpreted the gesture to include the entire ship and crew, and he inclined his head in agreement. “That is precisely my point, yes.”

He’d brought that on himself, hadn’t he? “Here’s a question,” he said, blatantly changing the subject. “If the anomalies are related to extra-dimensional beings, does that help us figure out how to break out of the time loop?

Stonn hesitated. “Not necessarily. Although it is worthy of research from a purely scientific standpoint.”

“I don’t disagree, I’d just really like to wake up tomorrow morning and have it be tomorrow, and not today again.” Jim looked at the data Stonn had already charted. “If the anomalies are drawn to power, what type of power? Could we decoy them away from the Sh’rel somehow?”

Stonn pulled up a set of power consumption statistics. “Theoretically, it is possible to reduce the Sh’rel’s energy output until it emulates that of the surrounding environment. I am currently calculating the length of time it would be feasible to operate the ship at that power level.”

He added another screen of probability calculations. “Perhaps a more important question is this: did something happen the first time we lived this day that created a time loop, or has the same thing been happening each day to send us back in time?”

Jim frowned. “Does it matter? Or is this another purely scientific research topic?”

“It matters, and not just because science mysteries are interesting.”

“I like science mysteries just fine,” Jim grumbled. Just not when they blow up my ship.

Our ship, Stonn sent. All of ours. We are together in this, as in all things.

He let himself lean on Stonn’s certainty. I know. But I appreciate the reminder. “Explain to me why it’s important?”

“If an event on the first day created a time loop, we may be best served by recreating our steps on that day and attempting to effect a different outcome. Everything we have done since may be immaterial.”

Jim didn’t bother to hide his dislike of that option. He’d still do it if they needed to. “Okay, I hate that plan. What’s the other option?”

Stonn leaned into him, just barely. “If something has been happening each day that sends us back in time, we would simply need to avoid that thing, and time would progress as expected.”

Jim nodded. “So far I like that better than the first one. But based on your expression, I’m guesing it may not be quite as simple as we’d like.”

“It is possible that the spatial anomalies are not only drawn to the ship’s power, but to their own energetic signature.” Data was scrolling past on the screen, but Stonn was clearly aware of the limits of Jim’s theoretical knowledge of quantum probability. “Meaning that in essence, the more times an anomaly encounters the ship, the more likely it will do so again in the future.”

“So the more tries it takes us to avoid it…”

“The harder it will become to do so.”

He took a long breath and let it out slowly. “We need to tell the others.”

They reconvened on the bridge, and barely had time to get through the inevitable questions before an alarm started flashing on his console. It’s happening again.

“There is a spatial anomaly forming inside the ship.” Is it this one?

It is consistent in every loop.

“How is that possible? I thought the asteroids kept them away.”

It took longer, though; we had more time.

We will know for next time.

“Anomaly is expanding. Power levels are fluctuating.”

“Cut all power except life support.”

“You can’t just turn off the ship!”

Non-essential systems powered down. All essential systems except life support, powered down.

“Expansion has slowed.” Still progressing steadily.

“It’s not enough!”

Spock?

The lights in the science lab brightened and then blurred. The light shifted rapidly through the visible spectrum until it reached an eye-searing shade of pink, and then –


*******

He woke up surrounded by warmth, physically and mentally. Having all of them in the same physical space was going to be a lot more common if they couldn’t find a way to break out of the time loop, and he was determined to enjoy it. He focused on the sensations of stretching his spine and kneading his paws into the closest surface.

“At least we are together,” Spock murmured. “And the time loop does restore my sleep shirt to its undamaged state each night.”

My claws are elegant and refined; any holes they make are a gift.

“That is certainly one interpretation of the facts,” Spock agreed.

The door slid open, and Christine and La’an barged into the room.

“We have ideas!” Christine announced. “Why are you still sleeping? Wait, is this what you’ve been doing every time loop?”

Somehow, it had never occurred to him that the starting point of the time loop might not be when he woke up. Hadn’t T’Pring said something about Christine and La’an, the first time through? Something about 2.6 hours talking? Apparently, they’d been making the most of it.

He stretched again, and then yawned, making sure all of his teeth were visible.

“Yes,” T’Pring said. “This is what we have been doing every time loop. You have always been welcome to stay, if you were interested.”

Christine looked like she was doubting whether or not T’Pring was telling the truth. (She shouldn’t; T’Pring wouldn’t lie about something like that.) But what she said was, “And that is incredibly tempting, but if I had done that, La’an and I wouldn’t have had time to come up with this.” She held a padd out in front of her.

“And ‘this’ is?” Vulcan eyesight was probably good enough to read the padd from across the room, but only if she held it still. And really, why bother when they could just ask?

“Okay, so we’ve come up with a list of ideas to try, to get us out of this time loop. Fair warning, some of them are a little far-fetched.”

He thought of Christine’s declarations during the loop when they’d all been children, and wondered what she could possibly consider far-fetched. He shifted back to being person-shaped, and blinked through the change in color perception that came with it. “Since we’re all here, we might as well skip the conference room this time,” he said.

Spock didn’t protest, and the others showed no signs of getting up, or even moving. Christine and La’an only hesitated for a moment before settling down on the floor. The room was designed so that the Vulcans could shift without worrying about breaking anything, so it wasn’t like there was much furniture to pick from.

A thought occurred to him, and he grasped Spock’s wrist. “Was that Sybok that we heard, right at the end last time?”

“I believe so.” Spock’s mental presence was troubled, enough that it showed through on his face. “I was unable to reach him prior to that. I am – unsure what that may indicate.”

La’an looked concerned. “None of our ideas account for the First Prince of Vulcan being trapped here with us.”

He could feel Spock take in her concern and compare it to his own, and decide they were both understandable yet illogical. “Sybok is extremely resourceful,” he said finally.

Stonn made a noise that was almost a laugh, although he quickly shifted his expression into seriousness when everyone looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “That is a factual description.”

Spock very nearly made a face at him, but turned back to Christine and La’an at the last second. “Please, begin,” he said. “Your suggestions are welcome.”

Christine held up the padd. “First option: we try going further into the asteroid field.”

“I agree,” JIm said immediately, and then pointed at Christine. “But that doesn’t seem very far-fetched.”

“Well, we started with the most reasonable one. Hopefully we won’t need to get all the way to ‘try to mind meld with the anomaly,’ but you never know.”

T’Pring gracefully ignored everything that was wrong with that idea, and said, “We will need to operate on minimal power to reduce the chance of drawing any spatial anomalies to our location.”

Jim grimaced. “In other words, dress warmly. It’s going to get cold in here.”

After they made sure Christine and La’an both had adequate thermal layers, and detoured to shut down all the standby systems in the Le’matya, they came back together on the bridge, and he fought off the feeling of deja vu. It wasn’t going to be the same as the last time; they would make sure of it.

He rubbed his hands together as he sat down at the pilot console. “All right. Let’s go sneak through an asteroid field.”

“You’re not going to plot a course?” La’an asked.

“Too unpredictable,” he said, shaking his head. “The nav charts for this asteroid field are sketchy at best. Even the scans we’ve done since arriving are incomplete, and we want to be as close to the center of it as we can get.”

Stonn took over the explanation when he leaned back over the console. “The asteroids are limiting sensor range; it will be further reduced as we go deeper into the field.”

Jim added, “So it will be harder for us to see any other ships, but it will also be harder for them to see us.”

“You think we’ll run into someone else in here?” Christine asked. “Like the ships that attacked us before?”

“Well, we’re not going to go looking for them. But we know at least one other ship was looking for something in the asteroid field, and we can’t be the only ones who figured out that the asteroids make it easier to avoid the spatial anomalies.”

Spock stepped up next to his shoulder. “To borrow a Human phrase, we are going to hope for the best.”

What else could they do, really?

Several hours later, he and T’Pring had switched places twice. She was currently piloting, while Jim was scribbling notes on their map of the asteroids. “We have another problem,” he said. “Remember how we initially decided not to go through the asteroid field, because there might not be a clear path through?

“From what we’ve been able to scan so far, most of the field should be navigable. But this section here –” He highlighted it on the screen.

“There’s a bottleneck where the asteroids are too close together for the Sh’rel to easily pass. We could make it, but not without using a significant amount of power for the maneuvering thrusters, along with the shields.”

“We could fly an escort formation,” T’Pring said, not taking her eyes off the controls. “It would be possible to clear a path.”

Spock looked conflicted. “I am – hesitant, to have any of us separate from the others. Although the spatial anomalies appear to occur with less frequency within the asteroid field, the risk is too great.”

“Exactly. Luckily, La’an has an idea,” Jim said. He gestured for her to take over.

“We don’t need to clear a path,” La’an said. “The asteroids are already doing that for us. We just need to find one that’s big enough to shield us, and then –” She waved at the screen. “Ride it through the bottleneck.”

Christine looked back and forth between him and La’an, with disbelief all over her face. “And that will work?”

“Sure. My brother and I used to do it all the time,” La’an said. “Neither of us can turn into a dragon, so we needed to find alternate ways to get through tight spots.”

Jim added, “Since we’re trying to keep power consumption as low as possible, that means minimal shielding. Our best chance will be finding an asteroid with a natural cave system, or hollowing one out ourselves with the Sh’rel’s phasers.”

Christine looked like she was trying to figure out if he was joking, or maybe if she wished he was joking. “So we need an asteroid.”

Spock looked at Jim, and then to the screen. “There would seem to be an adequate number here to choose from.”

Christine laughed, which was a good sign – recognizing when Spock made jokes was an excellent quality in a soulmate and potential future spouse.

“Ironically, yes. The cause of the problem is also the solution to the problem. The computer has identified all asteroids within range that fit the basic requirements of size and trajectory. We need to do deeper scans on each one to check for caves and make sure they’re not going to explode if they get hit with a phaser beam.”

“Right, that would be bad.” La’an looked determined.

“Yes,” Stonn agreed, from his place next to T’Pring. “It would be helpful if everyone could assist. Any asteroids that look like a match, you may flag for additional review.”

Did you suggest that just to give everyone something to do?

That was not my only motivation.

Jim and T’Pring had switched seats again when Spock announced, “We have located a potential option.”

Jim started nudging the Sh’rel towards the coordinates Spock indicated.

“This asteroid appears to have been used for a similar purpose in the past. It has an internal structure not dissimilar to a hangar bay. The size and shape of the space suggests it was deliberately created, rather than forming naturally.”

They approached at a crawl, until the asteroid dominated the viewscreen. The entrance to the hangar bay space was a smudge of shadow just left of center. It might be just what they were looking for. It might be a trap.

Jim frowned. “La’an, does any of that match the description you were given? If so, I think we may have just found your outpost.”

“I’m – not sure,” La’an said. “I was scanning for a specific power signature, not a physical structure.”

“Sensors detect no power output,” Stonn confirmed.

He looked over his shoulder at Spock. “Should we go see if anyone’s home?”

The answer reverberated from four minds at once. “Yes.”


*******

They set the ship down inside the hangar, and began the process of shutting down all systems. Passing through the bottleneck would take almost a full day, assuming they didn’t get looped back to the morning again. “There are several tunnels branching off from this area,” Stonn said. He gave the sensors one last look before switching them off. “Possible additional structures deeper inside the asteroid. No life signs within range.”

Jim shook out his fingers. “So, we’re definitely going to go explore those additional structures, right?”

“The logical course of action would be to stay with the ship,” T’Pring said, and even Spock turned to look at her in surprise. “However, it would be illogical to waste an opportunity to expand our knowledge.”

Christine clasped her hands behind her back. “This asteroid doesn’t happen to have a breathable atmosphere, does it?”

“It does not,” Spock said. “However, our spacesuits will provide adequate protection, and each of us will carry an emergency pack.”

Christine nodded, and it wasn’t until they were outside the ship and making their way across the hangar bay that he had a chance to catch her alone. He clicked open the private communications channel between their suits. “Hey. You okay?”

“Sure. Well, maybe. Here’s the thing.” She sounded like she was trying to control her breathing. “I’m not actually that great at enclosed spaces. Like spacesuits. Or tunnels.”

He could feel his eyes widen as he nodded. “Right. Okay, that’s – information that would have been good to know somewhere between us making this plan and you needing to use your spacesuit. Is there anything that helps?”

“Distract me? I feel like T’Pring and Stonn talk about you constantly, but I haven’t heard any of it from you in person.”

He could do that. Some would say that being a distraction was one of his most defining features. And they were in the middle of the group – Spock and Stonn taking point, and T’Pring and La’an covering the defensive position behind them. A little distraction was an acceptable risk in the name of preventing claustrophobic panic.

“Constantly, huh?” That was definitely an exaggeration. “Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse to get the good gossip on them?”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “It would be illogical to waste an opportunity to expand my knowledge, right?”

He spread his hands to the sides. “Ask away. I’m an open book.”

“I doubt that, but I’ll take the offer. Tell me about the Sh’rel. The four of you act like you’ve been flying together for years, but I know it’s not standard for bonded families to all serve on the same ship. I can’t even figure out which one of you is actually the captain.”

“Spock is the captain of the Sh’rel,” Jim told her. “She’s his personal ship as the Second Prince of Vulcan, although she’s registered with the AFP as well. T’Pring is the acting captain when Spock’s busy with other diplomatic duties, and I’m the acting captain when Spock’s off-ship as a dragon.”

He couldn’t see her expression through the helmet, but she nodded. “What about Stonn?”

“Stonn’s the acting captain when he wants to be, which is usually never.”

Christine laughed, which had been his goal. He added, “I assume you’ve heard some amount of gossip about us at the VSA, and maybe even the Enterprise. For all their claims to logic and unity, Vulcans can be as petty as anyone when it comes to power.”

“Spock is their Second Prince, but he’s also half-Human. I’m all Human, or close enough. T’Pring spends half her time questioning the Council and refusing to be polite about it – and she’s almost always right, which is what really gets them cranky.”

That got another nod, so she’d probably already seen that in action.

He gestured at Stonn, several paces ahead of them. “Stonn is impeccably Vulcan. He makes all the rest of us seem more conventionally acceptable just by accepting us. And he finds great joy in knowing everything and being underestimated.”

They picked their way through a scattering of fallen rocks in silence, and then Christine asked, “What does ‘close enough’ mean?”

He turned towards her in surprise. “Oh, you haven’t heard that one yet? Every so often the various media outlets pick it up – maybe a Kirk ancestor was a Betazoid, or maybe a Lanthanite. Maybe even an Organian. It depends how sensationalist they’re willing to go for pure speculation.”

“And is it? Pure speculation, I mean?”

He shrugged, which wasn’t actually all that easy in his suit. “No idea. My mom’s the one to talk to about that – pretty sure she started one or two of the rumors herself, but you didn’t hear that from me.” He thought about the best way to explain. “She’s got two kids, and one’s married to Betazoids and the other to Vulcans. She’s – very aware of the political and personal value of supporting families with all different kinds of backgrounds.”

“You know what’s interesting,” Christine said. “You said you were an open book, but so far you’ve told me more about the other people in your life than about yourself.”

“The most important people in our lives can have the biggest impact on who we are,” he countered. “To gain insight into them is to gain insight into me.”

“Mm. Very profound. Very vague. How about this – why does the Earth Fleet say you’re on the Farragut, while the Vulcan Fleet says you’re on a diplomatic tour?”

“Technically, the Earth Fleet also says I’m on a diplomatic tour right now. Spock and I are both assigned to the post-war goodwill tour.” It was intended to be a very public display of the Alliance of Federated Planets’ commitment to peaceful exploration and scientific discovery. He and Spock were touring together, a physical symbol of the cooperation between Earth and Vulcan as they focused their attention towards the future.

It was a good idea, which made it all the more frustrating that it had been overshadowed by politicking. The Earth Fleet wanted to be recognized as an equal partner to Vulcan; Vulcan wanted to show off their technological superiority; Betazed wanted everyone to stop arguing so they could show off their (admittedly beautiful) planet.

It was an important shift away from wartime treaty negotiations, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that they finally had the time to argue about things like seating charts and ambassadorial rank equivalencies. But it was also exhausting – there was more than one reason why he and Spock had snuck away during their “transit time” to get away from it all.

“I see that,” Christine said, making a show of looking around the tunnel, which was very much not part of the goodwill tour.

“We’re – taking a detour,” he said. “At any rate, for various political reasons, the Earth Fleet prefers to maintain the idea that I’m serving on an Earth ship. So I technically hold the rank of Earth Fleet Lieutenant, and I’m assigned to the Farragut. The Farragut roster shows me as being on extended loan to the Vulcan Fleet.”

They helped each other over an unstable pile of debris, and then Christine said, “Scuttlebut on the Enterprise is that they’re planning to promote you, and use it as an excuse to call you back.” Medical really did hear everything, didn’t they? He could feel Christine’s eyes on him, and he smiled tightly.

“They could try,” he said. “Chris knows I’d never accept. So does Sam, along with my parents and a good portion of Earth Fleet command. Whether they think they can change my mind is maybe a different question.”

“Chris, as in Captain Pike? You call him Chris?”

“You don’t call him Chris?” he asked innocently, knowing full well that she probably didn’t. Captain Pike just had that aura around him – even when he was off duty, he acted like a leader. The Earth Fleet needed more people like him. It was, in fact, Chris’ main argument for why Jim should come back.

“I didn’t know anyone called him Chris,” Christine said. “I mean, I assumed people must, I’ve just never heard it.”

“In my defense,” Jim told her. “T’Pring started it.”

“Now that, I can absolutely believe,” Christine replied.

The tunnel narrowed significantly, and he heard her breath catch. He put his hand on her forearm. “Eyes on me,” he said softly. “You’ve got this.”

“I’ve got this,” she repeated. After a few slower breaths, she said. “So, Chris?”

“He’s a friend of the family, on multiple sides. I respect him as a captain, and I think he tries to act with the best intentions. Sometimes he forgets that not everyone sees things quite the way he does. T’Pring calls him Chris to remind him that he has no authority over her. I call him Chris to remind him that we’re people first. The mission doesn’t get to come before that.”

She managed to convey her surprise even though he couldn’t see her expression. “I’m not sure that’s a statement that would get a lot of support among the Earth Fleet command.”

He smiled more easily that time. “If it was, I expect we’d be having a very different conversation.”

The tunnel widened again, and he said, “Speaking of missions. I thought everyone serving on an Earth Fleet ship was screened for claustrophobia, enlisted or not.”

“They are,” Christine said. “But the, ah, screen is waived if you’ve already served somewhere else. And the rules were a lot less – enforced, during the war.”

“And it wasn’t as bad, before,” he guessed.

“No,” she agreed. “It wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m always happy to be a distraction. If you’re comfortable having someone in your head, there’s some other ways we might be able to help too. It would probably be easiest with Spock, since the two of you have already bonded at some level, but any of us can do it.”

There was a pause, and then Christine said, “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense, here.”

He’d made the offer without thinking, and now he had to scramble to find some way to explain it. “It’s hard to describe. It’s like what we’re doing now – keeping someone company, being present with them. Sort of like holding hands, just telepathically instead of physically.”

He could feel Christine looking at him, and she said, “Holding hands the Human way, like a first date, or holding hands the Vulcan way, like getting to first base?”

He laughed loud enough that Stonn waved at him to be quiet, and T’Pring wanted to know what they were talking about. “You know, I think that all depends on the people doing it,” he said.

Christine made a noise that might be agreement, and said, “Honest in your own way. I didn’t see it at first, but I think La’an was right about you.”

He blinked. “You were talking about me? With La’an? What did she say?”

It was Christine’s turn to laugh. “I’ll tell you later.”


*******

They all looked up at the vibration of an impact. “Collisions between asteroids will become more frequent as we enter the bottleneck,” Spock said. “The rockfalls we encountered so far indicate that additional damage to this tunnel is a possibility.”

“Is it safe to be out here?” Christine asked.

Spock turned so he could see all of them. “Based on the size of this asteroid, it is likely safer at this point of the tunnel than with the ship. We are closer to the center –” A louder rumble cut him off, and he paused.

When it was quiet enough to hear each other again without shouting, he added, “Theoretically, this should be the least likely area to receive significant damage.”

“Theoretically,” T’Pring repeated.

“Yes,” Spock said, and they stared at each other for several seconds.

Stonn – who had either truly been ignoring them or just pretending really well, said, “There is another structure ahead. Not naturally occurring.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said easily, covering for Christine, who was doing her deep breathing exercises again. “I was beginning to think the tunnels might just loop around and put us back in the hangar bay.”

They turned one last corner in the tunnel, and hit a dead end. No, not a dead end – a doorway. Their flashlights illuminated an airlock-type mechanism. “It doesn’t seem to have a security lock,” La’an said. “I don’t see any signs of traps.”

Jim frowned. It wasn’t that he wanted there to be traps, it was just – “Who makes something this hard to find and then doesn’t bother to lock the front door?”

“There is no reason to assume this is the ‘front door.’” Stonn’s attention still appeared to be on the tricorder as he spoke. “The tunnel we selected followed a circuitous route. One of the other options may follow a more direct path, and have been intended as the primary entrance.”

“It would seem advantageous to lock the back door as well,” T’Pring said, with none of her usual calm.

She had plenty of reasons to be irritated. It had to be bothering her to be so far from the Sh’rel when they were in danger, especially since the ship itself was in just as much danger, if not more. He hadn’t been lying when he said Spock was the captain of the Sh’rel, but everyone knew she was T’Pring’s ship.

Spock moved closer to her, offering his support silently.

“No life signs detected; minimal power output.” Stonn glanced over at him with a hint of a smile. “It does not appear that anyone is home.”

Jim looked at Spock, who was probably raising an eyebrow at him. “Well, we didn’t come all this way not to go inside.”

The airlock door cycled smoothly, and opened out into a surprisingly well-appointed space. Dim lighting activated when they stepped through the door. They had entered onto a raised walkway that angled down on either side of them, following the curve of the wall around the room and meeting the floor on the side opposite from them.

“Thoughts?” Jim asked.

“It is a visually appealing design aesthetic,” Spock offered. “Though not one that would meet Vulcan safety protocols.”

The space they could see held multiple rows of what looked like computer consoles, which hadn’t turned on with the lights. Along the sides of the room were more airlock-style doors. Investigation revealed that some of the doors led back to tunnels, and others opened onto storage rooms. Massive storage rooms.

Christine leaned back so she could look towards the top of the largest storage room. “What is this place?”

“I was told it was an outpost, but I’m not sure that’s the right term,” La’an said. She was poking at the contents of the nearest shelves. “There must be food from at least half a dozen worlds in here.”

Stonn was more interested in the technology in the main room. “It is possible that it was set up as a scientific monitoring station. The sensors and communications arrays are impressive, if outdated.”

He’d never seen a scientific monitoring station that wasn’t run on a shoestring budget. “The massive amount of food and supplies stashed away makes that less likely, I think. That’s not the kind of supplies you’d need for a year, or even a few years, on a research outpost.”

La’an nodded. “That’s bunker-level supplies. Could be a bolthole if someone thought they might need to go on the run, or if they were looking to avoid a galactic war for a few decades.”

“It looks like some of these supplies are only a few years old. Whoever was hoarding things away here, they were making regular trips. I wonder what happened to them.”

“Hopefully they decided there were better places to build their secret hideout,” Christine said.

“This is not an ideal location for a ‘secret hideout,’” Spock agreed. “It is possible it is one of several options set up by the same individual, or group of individuals.”

The next time they heard the rumbling of an asteroid impact, it didn’t stop. The walls shook around them. “We must be getting close to the center of the bottleneck,” Jim said. A shower of dust filtered down from the storage units and caught in the beams of their flashlights.

A louder, lower sound cut through the noise of rock grinding on rock. La’an looked up sharply. “What was that? That didn’t sound like an asteroid impact.”

“That was a torpedo.”

“Someone’s shooting at us now?”

“Not necessarily,” Spock said. “They may be attempting to use torpedoes to clear a path through the asteroid field. Or several ships may be fighting over access to this asteroid.” Spock paused, and then added, “It is also possible that someone is shooting at us.”

La’an frowned. “I thought some of the asteroids might blow up if we shot phasers at them.”

“Yes.”

There was another explosion, even louder, and T’Pring said, “Stonn, do any of the rooms have more structural enforcement or shielding than the others?”

“The central communications room has the best shielding,” Stonn answered, who was staring intently at his tricorder. “That one was neither a torpedo nor an asteroid. I believe there are at least two ships close by.”

Jim nodded. “Right, let’s get back to the main room.” He wasn’t interested in getting crushed by falling supplies in case someone got in a lucky (or unlucky) hit.

“Wait,” Spock said. “The largest storage room is only moderately less shielded, and has space for our other forms.”

“If we shift, it will provide the maximum possible protection,” T’Pring agreed, and Stonn nodded. Jim could practically see them divvying up the Humans between them as they all hurried through the door.

Almost as soon as they were all inside, his ears popped, and then there were dragons. Stonn loomed over and around him, and he couldn’t help smiling. Just like old times, huh?

Indeed. There are certain similarities. T’Pring is likely to mention that you have now had a challenging experience in an enclosed space with Christine, to add to those you have had with the rest of us. I do not believe she was joking when she indicated it could be considered a requirement.

Jim closed his eyes briefly to keep from laughing. Not the time or the place. But, he supposed, that was sort of the point.

Christine was staring up at T’Pring. “Is it always like this, when they shift?”

“Calming?” he asked, welcoming any chance at a distraction. “Yes – that’s on purpose, actually. Their telepathic abilities are amplified in this form. The sudden increase can be overwhelming for anyone around them when they shift, so they practice projecting calm as part of the change.”

“It’s very effective,” Christine said admiringly.

Calming or not, they all still jumped when another impact rattled the walls around them. The noise intensified, and then cut off abruptly.

“What’s happening now?” Jim asked quietly. It was likely that T’Pring, at least, would be able to sense something.

There are multiple ships, T’Pring projected. Softly, but enough that they could all hear her. I do not believe they are aware of our presence here.

“Hopefully it stays that way,” La’an murmured. She was watching the door like she expected an attacker to burst through at any second.

Christine looked around the group. “Why are we whispering?” she asked finally.

“Humans often perceive an instinctual connection between speaking in hushed voices and the concept of concealment, and therefore find it psychologically comforting to do so in situations when they are attempting to avoid discovery.”

Spock hesitated, and then added, “Apologies. Yours was a rhetorical question.”

Christine shook her head. “No, no, that was fascinating. I’m interested.”

Spock immediately looked flustered. T’Pring came to his rescue – The ships are moving away.

The sound of explosions had stopped, although they could still feel the impact of asteroids. “I will investigate,” Spock said quickly. Jim stood up and raised his eyebrows. “We will investigate,” Spock corrected.

He had braced himself for the worst, but the outpost, or whatever its true purpose might have been, was largely intact. “Looks like only minor damage here.”

“Whoever built this facility clearly planned for long-term use. I am not detecting any structural damage inside the structure.” Spock hesitated. “The access tunnels, however –”

Jim automatically turned to look towards the walkway where they’d entered, but of course there was nothing to see. The doors themselves had held. “All the tunnels?”

They checked each exterior door, but the results were the same. “All of the tunnels have some level of damage,” Spock said. “I am not currently able to fully scan the area between us and the ship, but I expect each of the options will require us to clear a path.”

They returned to the rest of the group and immediately had everyone’s attention.

Jim gestured behind them. “The good news is, all of the environmental seals are currently intact, so we can all go helmets-off for a while. The even better news is that it seems very likely that we’ve managed to avoid the time loop anomaly.”

“And the bad news?” La’an asked.

“The bad news is that we’re trapped in here for a while. There’s been some damage in the tunnels.”

Spock added, “Stonn is working to modify the tricorder so that we can determine the best route to return to the hangar bay area. It would be logical to stay here until we fully pass through the bottleneck of the asteroid field.”

“In other words,” Jim said. “It’s time for an impromptu sleepover party. Break out the chocolate and settle in; we’re going to be here for at least another ten hours or so.”


*******

“All right, we’ve got breathable air, we’ve got light, we’ve got emergency ration packs. We’ve even got a pack of playing cards. Not exactly all the comforts of home, but it’ll do.”

“No chance for a portable heater, I’m guessing,” La’an said, probably only half-joking.

“Vulcans produce more heat in their dragon forms. Three dragons, three Humans, in a room this size? It would be almost impossible for us to get hypothermia under these conditions.”

Christine threw her hands up in the air. “How do you just know things like that?”

You do not have to tell them.

I know. “How else? Personal experience.”

Christine suddenly looked much more interested. “Oh, this is way better than cards. Unlocking the James Kirk backstory; let’s go.” She caught La’ans pointed look, and sighed. “Only if you want to share, of course.” La’an raised her eyebrows, and Christine frowned. “What?”

“It’s not an interrogation,” La’an said. “Right? So, an exchange. Story for story.”

Very clever – it was a decent way to pass the time without putting too much pressure on any of them. Jim nodded. “Very fair.” He looked at Christine and leaned back against Spock. “It was your suggestion, so I think the rules say you go first. Something related to cold temperatures; go.”

“Cold temperatures, okay. All right, here’s one from the Enterprise. We were exploring a planet –” She cut herself off. “No, not that one. There was a nebula –” She stopped again. “No, not that one either.”

“Does the Enterprise do a lot of classified missions?” La’an guessed. “You don’t actually have to share anything if you’re not allowed to talk about it.”

“It’s not that the missions are classified, exactly,” Christine hedged. “More that I see all of them from Medical, so – patient confidentiality, that sort of thing.”

“That sort of thing, as in, what happens in Medical stays in Medical?”

“Something like that,” Christine said.

“The Enterprise has – something of a reputation for breaking the rules,” Jim explained to La’an. “I think Chris – Captain Pike – probably has more reprimands in his official file than any other Earth Fleet captain. Of course, he has more commendations, too, so it’s not like they can really do anything about it.”

“Maybe he’s just found something worth breaking the rules for,” Christine said, and then she quickly added, “Anyway, I’ve got a good story, finally. Pre-Enterprise.”

She waved her hand in a circle, like she was setting the scene. “When I was a kid, my family had a dog – a malamute, named Milo. And I used to sneak him into my room to sleep at night, so he wouldn’t get lonely. And I knew that malamutes were adapted for cold weather, so I kept turning the environmental controls as low as they would go, and sleeping in my parka and snowpants.”

La’an tilted her head to the side and studied Christine carefully. “Yeah, I can see it. So what happened?”

“I got taller, and my parents wanted to know why I was asking for new winter gear in the middle of summer.” Christine shrugged. “The whole thing came out and they added a course on veterinary medicine to my study schedule. Milo got really good at sitting still so I could scan his vitals.”

She cleared her throat, and looked at Jim expectantly. “So, you were saying?”

He laughed, and he could feel Spock’s amusement bouncing between them. T’Pring and Stonn were both sleeping, or meditating deeply enough to emulate sleep. They’d take the later watches.

“Remember, you asked for it. During the war, I was on a mission for the Earth Fleet that went sideways, and I wound up in a Denobulan prison. And who should my cellmate turn out to be?” He gestured dramatically to one of the dragons ringing them in a circle.

“Stonn?” Christine said, looking back and forth between them. “How did you end up in prison? A Denobulan prison, no less?”

Classified, Spock rumbled, and Jim nodded.

“Super classified. And Denobulan prisons are kept cold. Very cold, at night. During the day we stayed busy with all the usual Vulcan pastimes – training, exercise, math games. Stonn taught me how to do the Vulcan nerve pinch, which was a highlight, believe me.”

He waved towards Stonn again. “At night we would both shift forms and he’d curl up around me. I got to stay toasty warm; he got to make sure I wasn’t going to run off and get us both in trouble.”

All of that was… mostly true. “Eventually we escaped, which was not as much of an improvement as you might think. Still very cold, and for a variety of reasons, we weren’t able to just –” He wiggled his fingers like wings. “Fly away. Basically we managed to swap a prison cell for a cave.”

It hadn’t been too bad, for a cave. “And for a variety of other reasons, we spent a significant portion of time in a light mind meld. Very convenient for communication, among other things.”

You are significantly abridging this story, Spock said.

“I’m summarizing. Your story can be as long as you want when it’s your turn.” He wasn’t even leaving out that much. Nobody needed to hear a highlights reel of hardships when they were trapped in a bunker inside an asteroid.

“Anyway, as it turns out, even a light mind meld maintained over a long period of time is a pretty surefire way to jumpstart a marriage bond. And that’s how Stonn and I wound up getting married first, even though I was already engaged to Spock, and Spock was already engaged to T’Pring, and T’Pring was already being courted by Stonn.”

“That is incredibly convoluted,” Christine said. “And yet somehow it also explains so much.”

He shrugged. “La’an? I hope you’ve had time to come up with something good.”

“Hold on,” La’an said. “How did you get off the planet?”

“This is not the fun part of the story,” he said. “But – in the spirit of open and honest communication in the midst of adversity – once the prison decided we couldn’t still be alive, they notified our respective planets of our tragic and lamentably unpreventable deaths. The Earth Fleet sent a ship to collect my ashes and my belongings.”

He leaned more heavily against Spock, who rumbled at him comfortingly. “Meanwhile, the Vulcan Fleet sent a squadron and demanded a full audit of the Denobulan prison system. They located us the first day they arrived, and beamed us both out.”

Christine was looking back and forth between him and Spock. “If you and Spock were engaged, you must have had at least a pre-bond, right? Wouldn’t he have known you weren’t dead?”

Spock’s rumbling got louder. Yes, he said firmly.

Jim sighed, and rubbed his hand along Spock’s scales. “Yes.” He’d never gotten a real explanation for it. Just a commendation letter and an official reversal of his legally deceased status.

“All my life, I believed in the mission of the Earth Fleet, and the Alliance of Federated Planets. After that, I still believed in the mission, but I wasn’t sure staying with the Earth Fleet was the way I wanted to achieve it.”

He spread his hands out to the sides and looked at La’an. “And that’s how we got off the planet. No more stalling – let’s get to your story. And no cheating.”

La’an seemed to recognize that he needed a moment to himself, because she cleared her throat dramatically and moved closer to the center of the room. Once Christine’s attention was on La’an, Jim let his head drop back against Spock. He closed his eyes. Was that a mistake, to tell them all that? he sent, as privately as he could.

Trust is not a mistake, Spock sent back, equally quietly.

“Well,” La’an said. “I don’t have any stories that include spooning with a dragon or getting accidentally married. But I’ll do my best.”

She cleared her throat again, and Christine handed her a drink. “Thanks. There weren’t – a lot of children, where I grew up. Enough to make trouble, my parents liked to say. And I wasn’t very good at making friends, except for my brother.”

La’an shrugged. “One day, they dared me to stay in the old shipyard overnight. Everyone said it was haunted, and that no one who went in at night ever came back. Obviously, I was going to prove them wrong, so I said I would do it.”

“Was it haunted?” Christine asked.

“Probably,” La’an said. “But mostly it was cold. Temperatures dropped quickly at night, and I hadn’t taken any cold-weather gear with me. I was too stubborn to leave, though. And then my brother showed up.”

“Did he make you go home?” Christine asked.

La’an shook her head. “Ah, no. No, he brought me a hot meal and a sleeping bag, and he said if I was determined to do something so foolish, he was going to do it too so he could make sure I didn’t get eaten by ghosts. We both stayed there overnight, and left the next morning without meeting anything scarier than a few wild animals.”

“What happened with the other kids?” Jim asked.

“Well, it turned out that being the kid that ghosts wouldn’t eat wasn’t exactly the free entrance pass to friendship that I’d been hoping for. But it gave me and my brother an excuse to hang out in the shipyard a lot more, which is what made it possible for us to eventually get off the planet. So in the end it probably worked out for the best.”

La’an put her drink down decisively, and turned to look at Jim. No, at Spock, behind him. “Your turn,” she said.

He could feel Spock weighing the possibility that he could avoid sharing a story by saying it was too late, and he made a show of checking the time. “It’s not that late,” Jim announced with enthusiastic good cheer. “Plenty of time for another story; we’ll get everything cleaned up while you come up with one.”

Spock didn’t bother concealing his sigh. But when their empty ration packs had been stowed away, and blankets distributed, he began his story without any further prompting.

Many reference materials say that Vulcans do not feel the cold of space when they fly through the stars in their dragon forms. It would be more accurate to say that for most journeys, the time in space is too short for the feeling of cold to matter.

Jim fought not to shiver. He hadn’t been there, but Spock remembered the cold, soul-deep.

During the Siege, there was no way to mount a counterattack from Vulcan, and no way to get any ships close enough to help. T’Pring’s strategy coordinated off-planet Vulcans to approach on the wing instead. In order to avoid detection by spies, many traveled immense distances.

He leaned back and put his hand on Spock’s side. He hadn’t been there, during the Siege. Stonn and T’Pring had both been on Vulcan – Stonn on the ground, and T’Pring leading the space defense. Jim had been backing Sybok up in what turned out to be another failed attempt at negotiations.

Hours became days; weeks for some. Waiting in the cold of space for the signal to move, it was impossible not to feel it. And when the signal came — tens of thousands of us, flying as one, clearing a path. The warmth of hope that replaced the cold.

Spock laid his head in Jim’s lap. It had been a hundred generations since Vulcan carried out coordinated flight maneuvers at that scale. I hope it never needs to do so again. And yet it remains one of the most profoundly moving experiences of my life.

Christine broke the silence. “Okay, I’m really glad I went first, because nothing could follow that.” Her voice was light, but her eyes were serious as she looked at Spock. She’d been there too, Jim remembered – a field medic. She switched her gaze to him, and he nodded. It had happened, and they were still here.

“Try and get some sleep,” he said. Spock grumbled in his head, and Jim echoed his own words back at him. Trust is not a mistake.

I am finding those words were easier to speak than to hear, but I agree. It is nearly time for Stonn to take the watch. Sleep.

Chess until I fall asleep?

I predict you will not be able to stay awake for more than fifteen moves.

I’ll just have to beat you very quickly then, won’t I?

...I accept your challenge.


*******

He slept badly, but he did sleep. By the time they all came to a silent consensus to pretend it was morning, he’d probably gotten in at least a few hours. Enough so that when one of the consoles in the main room suddenly lit up and started making noise, he could do more than just blink and stare at it.

“What’s that?” Not much more, to be fair.

“Someone is attempting to contact us,” Spock said. “Or rather, someone is attempting to contact this location.”

Right. No one knew they were there. Most likely, whoever was maintaining the outpost had some kind of monitoring on it, and had been alerted to the unexpected visitors.

Generally, AFP communications etiquette recommended answering a hail with your name and rank, or at the very least your ship’s name. In this case…

He flipped the channel open. “Hello?”

”James Tiberius Kirk, is that how we raised you to answer a communications hail?”

He felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Sybok?” He looked at Spock, who looked equally startled. “How did you – where are you?”

”Where am I? I am on my ship, just as I should be, where anyone might expect me to be. And I am looking at your ship, where you are most certainly not. So the question is: where are you? And where is my brother?”

“I am here,” Spock said. “We are well. All of us.”

Jim added, “We left the ship when we arrived, and we’re still working on clearing the damage to the tunnels to get back.”

”Well, you can stop working on it. We’re going to beam you here. We can do that, right?”

There was a muffled response he couldn’t make out, and then Sybok said, ”No, Michael says we can’t do that because there’s not enough room on our ship for all six of you. I told you we should have brought a bigger ship. We’re going to go to your ship and beam you there instead. What do you mean we can’t do that either?”

Jim was fairly sure Sybok was having two conversations at once – one with them, and one with someone on his ship with him. But it was best not to assume anything when it came to Sybok.

“Is Michael with you?” Spock asked.

”Of course Michael is with me; where else would she be?”

There was another muffled response, and then they heard Michael’s voice. ”Hello Spock. Hi Jim. Sybok was convinced you were in danger and tried to come alone. I invited myself along since he was determined to leave the rest of his usual guards and entourage behind.”

He certainly wasn’t going to admit to being in any danger, and he doubted Spock would either. Instead, he asked, “Did you have any trouble with the spatial anomalies?”

They could hear Sybok call, ”No, of course not!” at the same time Michael sighed.

”Yes,” she said. ”We encountered several of them on our way through the sub-sector. I found the effects – unpleasant. Sybok did not.”

Sybok must have moved closer, because they could hear him much more clearly when he said, ”I thought they were very refreshing! A fascinating way to open one’s mind to a variety of perspectives. I can see why Betazed likes this place so much.”

Spock’s expression indicated he was trying very hard not to say something he would regret later, so Jim said, “We had a few run-ins with them as well. Once we get back to the ship, we can send you the data we collected. Being in the asteroid field seems to reduce the chance of encountering one, but doesn’t completely eliminate it.”

”Understood. The asteroids also seem to partially block Vulcan telepathy, which is why Sybok is so grumpy. We found the Sh’rel, empty, and he wasn’t able to reach any of you. You haven’t noticed that effect?”

Jim looked at Spock. Have we noticed that effect?

Spock tipped his head towards the others. Yesterday, in the tunnels. T’Pring was impacted. It has not been noticeable since; possibly this structure is shielded in some way.

T’Pring joined them at the console. Christine and Stonn were talking to La’an – based on her expression, they were probably explaining what they could about Sybok’s… well, about Sybok.

“Hello, Michael,” T’Pring said. “Please convey our thanks to the First Prince. We are inside a shielded structure, which lessens the effects of the asteroids.”

”Any injuries? Do you need anything immediately?”

“Negative. Is the Sh’rel damaged?”

”It does not appear to be. It is currently in lockdown mode, and we have not attempted to board.”

“I suggest you beam me back first. I will go to the Sh’rel and assess any repairs that may be needed.” T’Pring looked around at each of them. Jim nodded when she caught his eye. Two groups would be fine. Stonn and Spock would happily spend as much time as they could get collecting data, and he thought Christine and La’an would just as happily return to the ship, where they could put their skills to use.

“I expect Sybok would enjoy seeing the bunker,” T’Pring said. “If he is interested.”

”I am absolutely not leaving until I have a chance to see the secret bunker. Why don’t we have any secret bunkers? I’m making a note to bring this up when we get back. I want one. We could call it a secluded meditation retreat; I’m sure the Council would love to have me leave them alone sometimes.”

Michael’s voice came back on the channel next. ”Sybok is interested,” she said dryly.

Jim stepped forward again. “Michael, there were other ships here before, potentially hostiles. We’ve seen a group of at least six ships twice, plus an unobserved encounter when we were deeper in the asteroid field. We heard torpedo impacts as well as unknown weaponry – possibly shooting at the asteroids; possibly shooting at each other.”

”We didn’t see anyone on our way here, but we’ll keep an eye out. The hangar bay is hidden well; hopefully that will keep this place from attracting much notice.”

He didn’t ask how she and Sybok had found them, if it was so well hidden. Sometimes it was better not to know, when it came to older siblings. “Understood. And thanks for the beam out; I wasn’t looking forward to a day of clearing rocks.”

The group split up along the expected lines, and he found himself more satisfied than he’d expected to be back on the Sh’rel. It was comforting to go through the usual routine of getting clean, putting on fresh clothes, even choosing a meal. Being stuck in a time loop for a few days had been challenging in ways he hadn’t entirely realized while it was happening.

He ran into La’an in the dining area. “How are you holding up?”

La’an waved her hand back and forth. “I’m okay. Still trying to grasp the whole First Prince of Vulcan thing, to be honest.”

He frowned. “I thought you knew. Right away, you knew. Spock even introduced us!”

La’an shrugged. “Sure, but I didn’t know you were telling the truth. And even then, knowing someone is royalty is different than –” She hesitated.

“Experiencing it?” Jim guessed, and La’an nodded.

“Exactly.”

“It can be a steep learning curve,” he agreed. “Spock’s family are good people, though. Vulcan calls them royalty, but it’s more complicated than just being born into it. There’s a whole series of – anyway, there’s a system.” He had to hastily edit his words when he couldn’t remember if that was one of the things he wasn’t supposed to talk about.

La’an politely didn’t comment on it. “And sometimes it’s nice to be able to throw the First Prince at a problem and see what happens?” she asked.

Jim smiled. “Well, if you have a First Prince to throw… wouldn’t it be logical to use all your resources to your advantage?”

“If I can ask, why haven’t you asked him to do something about your whole –” she waved her hand in a gesture he had no idea how to interpret. “Secret marriage situation.”

Ah, that. “The short answer is, we have, and he is. The long answer probably requires a history lesson, so I’ll let you decide if you’re interested in that.”

“Ooh, don’t start without me.” Christine slipped through the door of the dining area and looked at him expectantly. “T’Pring wouldn’t tell me anything, and Stonn told me not to ask Lady Amanda because it would make her upset.”

Christine had done scans of all of them as soon as they were back on the Sh’rel, trying to figure out the effects of their days in the time loop. “Did anything turn up on our tests?”

She shook her head. “Medical scans are inconclusive as to what exactly was happening to our bodies each time we went through the time loop, but it wasn’t a full cellular reset. Basically, we should all eat more and hydrate as much as possible, but we’re probably fine.”

“That’s something, at least. All right, this is one of those situations where everything seemed like it made some kind of sense while it was happening, but somehow years later it seems much more complicated.”

“Why am I getting the feeling that’s a very common situation for your life?” La’an asked.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say ‘very.’” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “All right, so this started years ago. Vulcan and Earth both wanted a treaty, and both agreed to the terms of arranging a marriage between me and Spock. We were both still young, so it was always intended to be a long engagement.”

Christine nodded – she might remember it; the announcement had gotten a lot of publicity at the time.

It was hard to distill over a decade’s worth of political bickering into anything resembling a coherent explanation. “First it was Vulcan pushing things to move forward, with Earth dragging their heels. That was when the war was going badly; Earth wanted the same deal Betazed got, and Vulcan was insistent that military support was a requirement.”

He’d been on Vulcan at the time, so instead of shouting and protests there had been a lot of hushed conversations that cut off anytime he stepped into a room.

“Then when Sam married a Betazoid, suddenly it was the Vulcans delaying things. The Vulcan Council became concerned that Earth was trying to take Vulcan’s place in the alliance.”


“‘First among equals’?” Christine asked, and he nodded.

“So they say. Anyway, after Vulcan won the war, Earth’s bargaining position was much weaker. What need did Vulcan have for military aid at that point? Earth has been stalling ever since, likely hoping Spock and I will push the Vulcan Council to finalize the marriage, and then Earth can magnanimously agree in return for more favorable terms.”

“But you’re already married,” La’an said.

Jim nodded again. “Yes, but Earth doesn’t officially know that. Vulcan unofficially knows, and they’d like it to be recognized, because they think it reflects poorly on them if people think their Second Prince has been stringing me along all this time.”

Christine eyed him carefully. “Are we ever going to hear the story of how that marriage happened?”

They’d find out one way or another. Probably it was better from him than Spock? “Maybe for our next sleepover.”


*******

Even Stonn ran out of things to scan eventually, and they carefully departed the hangar bay. The asteroid field thinned out as they approached the edge of the sub-sector, and they were all on alert for spatial anomalies. Sybok might find them fascinating, but Jim would personally prefer to avoid any more direct encounters.

And then T’Pring announced, “We are being hailed.”

“Again?” Who could be calling them? Practically everyone they knew was already there. He spared a quick second to pray Amanda and Sarek hadn’t come looking for them too. (Or worse, Michael’s parents. Or Sybok’s mother. You could only be rescued from dangerous situations by your husband’s parents just so many times before it got embarrassing.)

”Sybok says it’s not his mother,” Michael said. There was an open channel between the two ships.

It should have been a non-sequitur, but Spock just nodded and said, “That is good to know.” So either Jim had been projecting really loudly, or he hadn’t been the only one who was wondering.

“Open a channel,” Spock said. “Audio only.”

They were still running on reduced, but not minimal, power. Now that they’d reached open space, the ability to increase speed had been deemed a logical tradeoff for the slightly increased risk of attracting a spatial anomaly. Video calls, however, were not a logical tradeoff.

”This is Captain Christopher Pike, of the Enterprise. It looks like your ships have taken some damage. Are you in need of assistance?”

There was a silence long enough to be awkward. Finally, Spock muted the feed with the Enterprise and said, “Protocol dictates that Sybok reply first, as the elder and highest ranking officer present.”

Michael’s answer came quickly. “You know he’s not going to do that, though. Especially not for the Enterprise. Just answer the hail, little brother.”

Spock didn’t quite sigh, but it was close. “Enterprise, this is Captain Spock, of the Sh’rel. We are not in need of assistance.”

“That’s good to hear. Can I assume the same is true for your companion ship?“

“Correct. Captain Pike, be advised that this sub-sector is experiencing significant spatial instability. Spatial anomalies are more numerous than previously reported, and there may be hostile ships in the area.”

There was a pause. ”Are you saying you need assistance after all?”

“I am saying that I strongly recommend you avoid entering this sub-sector. We are currently evacuating the area.”

That got an even longer pause. And then Pike said, ”Ah. Well, it’s too late for that. We’re already here.”

It was Spock’s turn to pause. While the sub-sector wasn’t technically off-limits, it wasn’t close to any key planets or travel routes. Generally speaking, if Vulcan put warning buoys around something, most law-abiding members of the AFP would respect them.

In other words, there shouldn’t have been any reason for Earth’s flagship to be wandering around. “May I ask your purpose in doing so,” Spock said, carefully diplomatic in his wording.

”Search and rescue. We’re looking for someone,” Captain Pike said, equally diplomatic.

“A member of your crew?” Spock asked politely.

”Not exactly.”

“Is this a person we should be concerned about encountering?” Translation: why are you still talking to us?

”No, no, they certainly wouldn’t be a danger to you. Or anyone, I’m sure. We’re looking for them on behalf of a – concerned third party.”

They could go back and forth like this for hours. Jim was happy to let them – Captain Pike would run out of patience long before Spock. T’Pring, however, had less patience than either of them.

“Chris, this is T’Pring. Do you have reason to believe we have knowledge of this person? If so, it would be logical to divulge the information you possess in an efficient manner. If not, we will leave you to your search.”

“We’d be happy to send you some suggestions regarding the spatial anomalies,” Jim added. He had no desire to get wrapped up in the Enterprise’s secrets, but he had even less desire to subject anyone else to a time loop. Or have the Enterprise crew turn into children, as funny as that mental image might be.

”That would be appreciated,” Captain Pike said. ”I’ll have my team check them over and start implementing them.” He hesitated, and then added, “Can I ask why your communication is audio only?”

“The spatial anomalies seem to be drawn to power output,” Spock said calmly. “That information is in the files.”

Jim was sure Pike was trying to decide how best to politely demand they provide their own answer about what they were doing in the area, when the channel picked up a quiet exchange going on (he assumed) in the background.

”Is he like this with everyone? Isn’t that the Second Prince of Vulcan? Who gives the Second Prince a hard time? That’s probably a crime, or at least like, a really bad idea.”

“I mean, I think he’s probably trying to protect you, right?”

“Who asked him to do that?”

“Oh. Well, you – did? Ask him to do that, I mean.”

“Huh. I did, didn’t I?”

Jim suddenly wished they had visuals. If even they could hear it… Sure enough, Pike’s voice came through next, much louder. ”You do realize I can hear you talking. The bridge isn’t that big; we’re not even on opposite sides of it.”

The first voice came again. ”Yes, I expected you would. Your hair might be going grey, but your hearing has always been excellent. Why are you giving the Second Prince of Vulcan a hard time?”

He frowned. He wouldn’t claim to know everyone on Pike’s ship, but he couldn’t place anyone on the bridge crew who would call him out like that.

La’an was also frowning, and she waved a hand to get Spock’s attention. Mute the channel, please, Spock sent.

“We’re muted,” Jim told him. “The Enterprise can’t hear us, but Sybok and Michael can.”

La’an said, “I recognize that voice. That’s the captain of the ship I was with. It could be me that they’re looking for.”

“Do you want them to find you?” Spock asked.

La’an hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes. I do.”

Spock gestured for her to go ahead. “We will support you,” he said, and Jim opened the channel.

“Una?” La’an asked. “Is that you?”

“La’an! Are you all right? We’ve been trying to find you for days; we haven’t been able to track your ship.”

La’an winced. “About the ship.”

”Never mind the ship; what about you?”

“I’m fine,” La’an said. “Is anyone else with you?”

”Everyone is here. We ran into some trouble after we split up, and the ship was damaged. Chris – Captain Pike, I mean, happened upon us and offered his assistance.”

Jim held up his hand and very carefully muted the channel again before turning to look at La’an. “Is this Una as in Una Chin-Riley, Commander in the Earth Fleet?” He definitely should have asked more questions about who she had been working with.

But La’an just looked confused. “She introduced herself as Una – everyone on the ship calls her that, or Captain. Her ship definitely isn’t part of the Earth Fleet, though.”

“I am familiar with Commander Chin-Riley,” T’Pring said. “I had thought she was reported missing in action, presumed deceased.”

Jim nodded. “That’s what I thought too. So what was she doing on a non-Fleet ship out in uncharted space, meeting up with La’an? And how did she wind up here, just in time for the Enterprise to show up?”

La’an said, “I have no idea. We – well, we didn’t ask a lot of questions. It wasn’t that kind of ship.” And she wouldn’t have known what to ask anyway, if their guess was correct.

“It is possible the Commander was engaged in an undercover mission,” Spock suggested.

Sybok took that moment to remind them that he was still listening. ”This is better than a holo-novela. Do you think she’s secretly married to Captain Pike? Someone should ask her.”

T’Pring ignored the interruption and the question. “If she was undercover, it could be unsafe to reveal her identity at this time. Perhaps a face to face meeting could be suggested.”

Spock unmuted the channel. “We would like to meet in person. Would it be convenient for us to join you on the Enterprise?”

”We’ll roll out the welcome mat,” Captain Pike said. “How many extra places should we set? Are – all of you coming?”

That wasn’t a standard question. There might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Or not. “It could be a trap,” Jim said, muting the channel yet again.


“Have you noticed that you think everything could be a trap?” Sybok replied.

Michael answered for him. ”That’s because everything could be a trap. It’s logical to consider possibilities even when the probability of them occurring is low. Which is why we’ll be staying here.”

“Thank you, Michael. Look, I’m not saying we shouldn’t go, I’m just saying it could be a trap. If you keep in mind that a situation might be a trap, then if it does turn out to be one, you’re not surprised, and it’s easier to think through your options. Perfectly logical.”

Spock tactfully declined to comment, but Christine said, “Why am I getting the feeling this is another one of those ‘I know it from personal experience’ things?”

“It is,” T’Pring said. “And it is an explanation for another time. I will stay here and monitor the situation.”

“As will I,” Stonn said. “I believe I am making progress in determining why the asteroid field experiences fewer spatial anomalies than the rest of the sub-sector.”

“Christine?” Spock asked.

“I’d like to go. I served a rotation on the Enterprise – if we can’t get information officially, I have friends there who might be able to give us the unofficial version.”

At Spock’s signal, Jim unmuted the channel. “Four people, Captain Pike. Coordinating with your transporter team now.”

They materialized in what he recognized as the Enterprise’s main transporter room, although the transporter tech at the controls was unfamiliar. In front of them were Captain Pike, Lieutenant Ortegas, a man he expected was probably La’an’s brother, and someone who looked very much like Commander Una Chin-Riley.

“Captain Spock,” Pike greeted, holding up one hand in the Vulcan salute.

“Captain Pike.” Spock returned the gesture, and then tucked his hands behind his back.

Una stepped forward. “Captain Spock, thank you for assisting my crewmember. We were all extremely concerned when La’an went missing; it’s a relief to know she was found by allies.”

La’an and her brother were already hugging, and Una joined them for a brief group embrace.

She greeted him equally enthusiastically, hug and all. “James, it’s good to see you again.” Well. If she’d been undercover, apparently she wasn’t anymore.

“It’s good to see you too,” he said, pretending he couldn’t see Captain Pike shaking his head at him from behind her. “Especially since we thought you were dead. Can I just say, I’m very glad to learn the reports were wrong.”

“Vulcan mourned your loss,” Spock added. “The Earth Fleet was lesser, without your presence.”

Una looked like she had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, which was – well, it was something. “What reports? People thought I was dead?” She looked at Ortegas. “Is this why everyone’s been acting weird around me? Erica, did you think I was dead?”

Ortegas, who’d been pretending to be extremely interested in the wall next to her, snapped to attention. “There was a report that suggested that, yes. Captain Pike requested that we not mention it, since he was planning to explain it to you.”

Everyone looked at Pike, who appeared to be praying for patience, or possibly a red alert.

“Chris?” Una prompted. “Why do people think I’m dead?”

“Let’s take this to a conference room.”


*******

“You have to understand, the political pressure against Earth’s involvement in the Romulan War was immense.” Pike sighed. “I’m not saying I agreed. Just that the situation was – complicated.”

They were all seated around a table in the command team conference room. La’an’s brother had been replaced by Ensign Uhura, who was either cleared to be read in on potentially classified information, or trusted enough to keep it in confidence. La’an and Christine’s presence hadn’t been questioned. (Possibly because Spock had specifically introduced them as diplomatic guests of the royal family, and possibly because Pike had always been one to bend the rules when he thought he could get away with it.)

Una looked like she didn’t want to believe what she was hearing. “We were told that our ship – our crew – would be replaced on the front lines by three others, new heavy cruisers straight out of the shipyards.”

There was a long, awkward silence. Ortegas was going to crack a tooth if she kept clenching her jaw that hard. He nudged her foot under the table, and she kicked him in the ankle without even glancing his way.

“They were not,” Spock said finally. “The Siege of Vulcan began a short time later.”

“Chris,” Una hissed. “How could you not tell me this? My crew was split up; we’ve been out there chasing shadows for years! Deep space reconnaissance my ass! The Klingons, the Gorn? The Breen? Was any of it real?”

“Yes,” Pike said decisively. “Everything you were looking for was something the Earth Fleet had evidence of being a credible threat.”

He looked significantly less sure of himself when he added, “And yes, Earth Fleet Command took advantage of the damage done to the Antares to assign her crew to a series of classified long-range recon missions. A report was leaked about the ship being too far gone to repair, and the media leaped to the wrong conclusion and reported the crew lost.”

“And Fleet Command didn’t refute it because it created the perfect cover,” Una said, shaking her head.

Ortegas scoffed. “You mean they jumped on the excuse to go back on their promises and not ‘waste resources’ on the war. They hung us out to dry and you know it, Captain.”

Una took a deep breath. “Chris, think about what you’re saying. If everything we were looking for was a credible threat, then what were we doing here? We were told there was a dangerous group of pirates terrorizing the area and searching for a superweapon in some ancient outpost.”

Jim looked at La’an, who was already looking at him. ‘Weapon,’ she mouthed, and he nodded. Called it.

“And instead we run into spatial anomalies that cause confusion, and the Second Prince of Vulcan? You know what they say, Chris – if it looks like a setup and it smells like a setup…”

Jim put his hands up. “Whoa, whoa. I appreciate the intense suspicion happening right now, but we have actually had a couple run-ins with ships that could have been pirates while we’ve been in here.”

“Which brings up an excellent question,” Pike said. “What exactly are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on a goodwill tour halfway across the quadrant.”

“A goodwill and science tour,” Jim corrected. “We were just taking some time to focus on the science part for a bit. You know – run some scans, enjoy a little rest and relaxation, explore some scientific mysteries.”

“Rest and relaxation,” Pike repeated. “In a sub-sector called the Death Trap?”

Jim put on his most innocent expression. “Vulcan calls it sub-sector 023-epsilon-11. And Betazed calls it The Compass.”

Ortegas gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah, so that people know to steer clear of it.”

“It’s a space mystery!” he insisted. “Aren’t you the least bit curious to know what’s out there?”

“Sybok finds it quite refreshing,” Spock agreed.

Captain Pike stared at him. “Sybok – the First Prince is here too? Of course he is. The second ship; I should have guessed. Please don’t tell me your sister is also here.”

Spock hesitated, and then said, “It is not a requirement for me to inform you at this time.”

There was a comm from the bridge. “Captain, sensors are detecting a spatial anomaly; off the port bow and expanding quickly.”

“Red alert. Evasive maneuvers.” Captain Pike had only just stood up when it hit them.

It was becoming familiar – the sensation of the anomaly sweeping through the ship. When it was over, Jim looked around quickly. Everyone appeared to be the correct age, and they were all in the same place they’d been a few seconds before.

Captain Pike sat back down, and raised his eyebrows. “Is that it?”

“The flowers, sir.” Ortegas was pointing at the corner of the room, an expression of mild concern on her face.

Uhura looked up from her padd. “Sir, reports are coming in from all decks; the spatial anomaly seems to have –” She gestured towards the corner too. “Brought us flowers?”

“How are flowers dangerous?” Ortegas asked.

“I’m allergic to almost all flowers,” Jim said, and then froze. That – wasn’t information he usually shared with people.

Captain Pike gave Spock a sympathetic look. “That must make apology flowers a challenge.”

“Apology flowers are not going to cut it for lying to me and letting people think I’m dead,” Una told him. Both of them looked surprised afterwards, as if they hadn’t intended to say those things.

Spock raised one eyebrow. “Fascinating.”

Ortegas was looking back and forth between them all with wide eyes. “Oh my god,” she said. “The flowers have truth pollen.”

It seemed like a stretch to him, but it immediately got everyone’s attention. “Are you suggesting the flowers are causing this?” Pike sounded awfully skeptical for someone who’d just confessed to using bouquets to make his apologies.

Christine shook her head. “Nobody’s ever proven the existence of truth pollen.”

Ortegas pointed at her. “What about those flowering vines, during that away mission with the shuttles? Or the moss, when we were trapped in that cave?”

“The vine flowers weren’t the problem, the locals had a truth serum tea that they made from the leaves. And moss doesn’t even have pollen. I still think it was the volcanic gas making us hallucinate.”

“Now you’re just splitting hairs,” Ortegas complained, and Christine threw her hands in the air.

“You’re the one who said truth pollen! That means it has to be pollen-based!”

He leaned back from the table and flipped open his communicator. “Kirk to Sh’rel. Were you impacted by the spatial anomaly?”

”Negative. What is your status?”

“There are flowers everywhere. They’re likely the cause of what we’re experiencing, which is –” He looked at Spock, who straight-up shrugged at him. Spock. Shrugged.

“Some kind of intoxicant, maybe? Inhibition reducer? Something which probably isn’t truth pollen, but it’s definitely making everyone – chatty.”

He immediately felt T’Pring’s presence in his mind increase, and his thoughts became clearer. Thank you, he sent.

”Are you requesting a return to the ship at this time?” T’Pring said out loud, while in his head he heard an undercurrent of, You’re welcome, no thanks are necessary, are you all right?

“I’d prefer not to spread it around, just in case it’s something the transporters can’t filter out,” he said, with a silent addition of, Be careful, we may be compromised, question everything we say or do, I don’t think Pike did this on purpose, he seems to be taking it hard.

”Understood. Keep us apprised of your status. We will notify the Xaverius.”

It took him a second to place the name, and then he nodded. Sybok’s ship, when he was trying to be slightly more subtle about being the First Prince of Vulcan. “That would be appreciated. Kirk out.”

He’d only been paying minor attention to the ongoing debate around the table. As he leaned forward again, Christine said, “It’s not truth pollen, and I can prove it. The warp core is made of magical blue light.” She spread her hands apart. “See? Unless that’s true, it’s not truth pollen.”

Jim looked at her in surprise. “You don’t know how the warp core works?”

Christine gave him an incredulous look. “I bet you don’t know how your lower intestines work, but you still count on them to do their job.”

All right, that was fair. But still – “I know how my lower intestines work,” he insisted.

Spock looked at him very seriously. “Jim. I trust you with my life, but if I required surgery on my lower intestines, I would prefer Christine’s expertise over yours.”

“That makes sense, though; your lower intestines are –” He waved his hand. “Way different than mine. La’an, what about you? Would you trust me with your lower intestines?”

La’an looked like she was considering the question very carefully. “In this hypothetical scenario, I assume there’s some reason a licensed medical professional isn’t available? And I actually need surgery on my lower intestines?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, even though he wasn’t completely following the questions anymore. It definitely seemed like yes was the right answer.

“Then yes,” La’an said. “I would. Spock too. I would probably die anyway, right? At least I’d know someone had tried to save me; I think that would be nice.”

“See! You understand your lower intestines,” Christine told her.

La’an made a face. “You’re right; it’s not truth pollen. More like overshare your innermost thoughts pollen.”

But Spock looked genuinely pleased. “I am honored to be included in your innermost thoughts.”

Captain Pike cleared his throat. “I think it’s safe to say that we’re all being affected in some way. Uhura, any update from Medical?”

Uhura nodded, and held up her padd. “They’ve done an initial analysis on the flowers, along with several members of the crew. The primary impact seems to be a lowering of inhibitions, specifically when speaking. The truthfulness component is – likely subjective, but it does seem essentially consistent across species.”

“More importantly, have they figured out how we can make it go away?” Ortegas asked.

Una shook her head. “In our experience, the duration of the effects of each anomaly vary. It could be several days.”

“Days?” Ortegas repeated, but Jim was distracted from whatever new argument was brewing when Spock’s communicator chirped.

Spock looked at it in surprise. “Why are you calling me?” he said out loud. “We are already speaking.”

Probably Sybok, then. Spock flipped open the communicator and stepped away from the table. “There is no need to shout at me, brother. My hearing has not been impacted.”

Definitely Sybok. Jim didn’t bother eavesdropping on the rest of the conversation; he could guess how it was going to go. Sure enough, a few minutes later Spock sat back down.

“Sybok will be joining us shortly,” he announced. Looked like Spock had lost the argument, then. Or maybe not, it was hard to tell sometimes.

Pike’s face fell dramatically. “No, I don’t want him to come here. Sybok is always mean to me.”

“The First Prince outranks both of us,” Spock pointed out. “If he is denied an unofficial visit to the Enterprise, I expect he would be more than willing to make it an official one instead.”

“Right.” Pike nodded, and then sighed again. “Right. Okay, let’s do this.”


*******

The transporter room was full of flowers. “We tried beaming them into space to get rid of them,” the transporter tech said gloomily. “But the transporter can’t get a lock on them. Are they even real?”

Captain Pike patted them on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go join the rest of the Engineering crew? Take some time off; captain’s orders.”

After the tech left, Pike took over the controls. “Most of the ship’s functions are locked down; the transporters are one of them. These pads won’t beam anything on or off the ship right now without command authorization.”

That – would have been good to know, but it wasn’t a bad idea as a security measure. “Energizing now,” Pike said.

Sybok strode off the transporter pad with all the dramatic flair he could muster, which was a lot. “Little brother!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. “Assorted family members! Friends I haven’t met yet!” Then he dropped his arms. “And Captain Pike. I see you’re still here.”

“Welcome aboard the Enterprise,” Pike said, visibly gritting his teeth.

“I love the flowers,” Sybok declared. “They add a certain something to the ship, don’t you think?”

Captain Pike led them all back to the conference room yet again, and made what Jim would consider a passably good effort at entertaining a visiting dignitary under difficult circumstances. (There was an entire command course titled ‘Entertaining Visiting Dignitaries Under Difficult Circumstances;’ Pike had clearly taken it seriously.) Snacks were involved; he approved.

Jim was standing by the wall farthest from the door, trying not to say anything he’d regret too much later, when Una cornered him. She pointed at him and then Spock, and raised her eyebrows. He smiled, and she gave him a thumbs up. “Well done, James. So, you’re happy, he’s happy, the war is over – why in the world does Sybok dislike Captain Pike so much?”

He started talking without thinking it through, but it was hardly a secret. “Pike once suggested that Spock should consider serving on the Enterprise. He made the argument that having Vulcan’s Second Prince on the Earth Fleet’s flagship would be a powerful symbol of trust and goodwill between two founding members of the Alliance of Federated Planets.”

Una narrowed her eyes. “That – doesn’t sound completely unreasonable.”

Jim shrugged. “No, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Spock considered it, and ultimately declined the offer. No hard feelings about it on either side.”

“Except for Sybok,” Una said.

Right. Except for Sybok. “Well, the timing wasn’t great,” Jim told her.

Sybok swept over to their side of the room, with Captain Pike trailing behind him. “I had a perfectly reasonable reaction to someone trying to steal my brother, right after someone did steal my brother. Even though that one did at least win me another brother in the end.”

He draped his arm around Jim’s shoulders. “Vulcan’s worst-kept secret,” Jim said proudly, forgetting why he wasn’t supposed to mention that around Captain Pike.

Pike stared at him. “You’re already married,” he said. “Of course you are.” He pointed at Jim. “You. You are destined to be a pain in my ass in every reality.”

Rude, but quite possibly true. “You’ve met me in other realities?”

Pike nodded, and then shook his head. “I think I’m not supposed to talk about it.” He squinted around the room, like he was looking for something. “Someone will probably show up and give me a hard time about it now.”

“This is incredible,” Sybok said, sounding delighted. “It’s like a gift just for me.”

Pike scowled, at the room in general and at Sybok in particular. “Why does Sybok seem to be exactly the same as usual? Do the flowers not work on Vulcans?”

“I don’t make a habit of censoring my truth, Captain Pike. Maybe you should consider why this feels so different than usual for you.”

Captain Pike visibly pouted. Jim was pretty sure Ortegas was taking pictures from the other side of the room.

“Also,” Sybok said slowly. “I’ve been thinking, and I believe there’s a perfectly logical solution to this entire situation.” Those words coming out of Sybok’s mouth probably should have been their first clue that something completely unpredictable was coming next. Sybok was many things, but a fan of perfectly logical solutions wasn’t usually one of them.

“Captain Pike should officiate the final steps of your courtship.”

There were a few seconds of silence as that idea sunk in for everyone. Then Ortegas shook her head. “I don’t get it. How does that solve anything?”

“Why are you still courting if you’re already married?” Una asked. “What about the treaty?”

Sybok waved off the questions. “I’ll explain,” he said. “It will make Spock too sad, and James is busy.”

Jim blinked, trying to figure out what Sybok wanted him to be busy with. Comforting Spock, maybe? If the story was going to make him sad, he shouldn’t have to be sad alone.

“As you know, Spock and James were officially betrothed as part of the treaty negotiations between Vulcan and Earth. When Spock was kidnapped, James was also put in danger, while under the protection of Vulcan. The somewhat unique circumstances of the situation made it unclear whether the conditions of the betrothal were broken, and by whom.”

Pike looked more confused than ever. “Wait, when was Spock kidnapped?”

“Shortly before you made your ill-considered offer, Captain Pike, try to keep up.”

Una was giving Sybok a suspicious look. It reminded Jim of the multiple occasions he’d tried to talk his way out of trouble with her, none of which had been successful. “What does “unique circumstances” mean?” she asked. “I’m familiar with the treaty; I don’t recall there being a lot of ambiguity surrounding the endangerment clauses.”

Sybok looked at Jim. “James? Would you care to explain?”

He sighed. “It means that when I saw Spock getting kidnapped, I badgered my way into getting kidnapped with him. I wasn’t originally a target, and the kidnappers didn’t know who I was.”

“Which was?” Sybok prompted.

He recited from memory. “A foolish and risky choice that could have gotten both of us killed, and then Sybok would have had to avenge us, and he would prefer to stay out of galactic warfare from now on.”

“Exactly,” Sybok said.

Captain Pike looked a little pale, possibly at the idea of Sybok avenging his little brother through galactic warfare. To be fair, it was an idea that was worthy of concern. “I see,” he said.

Sybok waved his hand again “Regardless, as Spock and James returned from the experience irrevocably bonded, the Vulcan Council would prefer not to debate the issue. However, they are not unaware of the fact that certain parties to the treaty might be looking for a loophole –”

Sybok gave Captain Pike a long and deliberate look, clearly indicating that he expected Earth to be doing just such a thing.

“If the betrothal was broken before the marriage, it wouldn’t be allowable as a representation of the treaty. And if a treaty-based betrothal is broken, it can’t be reinstated between the same two participants, regardless of their inclusion in the treaty afterwards.”

“And that would be bad,” Una said. “Since they’re already married.”

“Unless, of course, there was a loophole for the loophole, which there was. Is.” Sybok spread his hands apart. “The Treaty Courtship.”

Pike shook his head. “I’ve never heard of a treaty courtship,” he said.

“It isn’t something we usually share with outsiders,” Sybok said easily. Which could mean that it was an ancient Vulcan tradition steeped in secrecy, or that it was something Sybok had just made up. Jim had decided years ago not to ask.

“The Treaty Courtship includes a series of twenty-three phases, each indicative of a different level of compatibility between the courting individuals. Several of them can be skipped if any of the participants become pregnant, but sadly, no such happy announcement has been made.”

“Twenty-three phases?” Ortegas asked. “That’s so many.”

“But – and I think this requires re-stating – you’re already married,” Pike said, sounding exasperated. It was clear he had no idea where Sybok’s explanation was headed.

“That marriage is a secret,” Spock told him, very seriously. “A concept I believe you are familiar with. The courtship marriage would not be a secret.”

“Are you reading my mind?” Pike asked.

“You are thinking about it very loudly,” Spock said.

Sybok ignored the exchange entirely. “Once all twenty-three phases are complete, the marriage is official, regardless of the status of the treaty or betrothal. It’s the best way to fulfill the terms of the treaty and guarantee that these two get to stay together.”

He spread his arms wide. “And we have everything we need to finish the last few phases of the courtship right here. The Night of Truth-Telling, the Day of Seclusion, and the Public Celebration.”

Una leaned closer to him. “Why can I hear the capital letters?” she asked quietly.

“It’s a gift,” he said. “I keep hoping he’ll teach me how to do it.” Maybe it could be a wedding present?

Sybok continued, “Having Captain Pike and the Enterprise be involved in such an auspicious event would be a powerful symbol of trust and goodwill between two founding members of the Alliance of Federated Planets. Don’t you think?”

Jim thought about it. Maybe it was the flowers talking, but it didn’t seem like the worst idea he’d ever heard. He and Spock got to be officially married, the Vulcan Council was satisfied, the Earth Fleet got to look good.

I agree, Spock sent. It is an unexpectedly elegant strategy.

“Thank you, little brother.” Sybok looked genuinely pleased, an expression that matched Spock’s so well that anyone looking at them would immediately be able to identify them as siblings.

“We’ll make sure that both Captain Pike and Captain Una show up in the pictures, and make it clear that all of you are considered important to the Vulcan royal family. That should help with any repercussions from asking questions about your… reconnaissance assignment.”

“Are you serious about this?” Captain Pike asked.

Sybok stared at him. “I assure you, I take the happiness of my siblings very seriously.”

Pike stared back. Then he stared at Una. Then he closed his eyes for a while. Finally, he nodded. “All right. Who am I to obstruct the course of love? What do we do next?”


*******

Jim had never actually seen a complete list of the twenty-three phases. As the courtee, he was supposed to stay out of the phase-tracking part of the whole thing, and he’d tried to respect that. Spock said he had it handled; Jim trusted that he did.

That didn’t mean he didn’t have questions.

“There are rules for the Night of Truth-Telling? It seems – self-explanatory enough.”

“Yes, of course there are rules,” Sybok said, and Jim was convinced that anything he said next was going to be a complete fabrication. Ancient Vulcan rituals tended to include a lot of vague metaphors about unity, not a detailed list of rules.

“First, it has to be at night. Second, everyone has to tell the truth. These flowers should help with that.”

Sybok paused, and took a breath, and Jim hoped briefly that he was going to stop at two rules. Then he added, “Third, only family and friends are allowed to participate. Fourth, no falling asleep; you must stay awake the entire night. Fifth, one of the truths must include the courter’s marriage proposal. Sixth, –”

“Sybok.” Spock cut him off.

“Fine, fine, there are just those five rules. We’ll do it here on the Enterprise, of course.”

“Of course,” Pike repeated dryly. “I assume I’m not invited to this particular auspicious occasion?”

“Certainly not,” Sybok said. “Just your ship, for this one. And we’ll take Commander Chin-Riley as well. She’ll be representing the Earth Fleet side of things.”

“But what about –” Captain Pike cut himself off. “You know what, I don’t want to know. The ambassadorial guest quarters are yours for as long as you need them. Ortegas will coordinate with the Sh’rel on avoiding any additional spatial anomalies and getting out of this sub-sector. Medical will work on counteracting this damn pollen.”

After that, Sybok organized everything with the kind of speed that revealed a keen understanding that sometimes it was better to not give people too much time to think things through. Jim couldn’t bring himself to mind.

It felt a little familiar, setting out food and blankets, although the ambassadorial suite was significantly more well-appointed than the outpost had been. And warmer; that was nice. But even though it was smaller – not even enough room for one dragon, let alone three – it felt huge. Definitely not cozy. He wondered if the Earth Fleet had ever considered adding curtains.

“Don’t you think curtains would be nice in here?” he asked.

Spock contemplated the windows. “The aesthetic benefit of curtains is variable, and the filter options currently available would seem to serve a similar purpose. However, in support of the truth-telling component of the event –” He tilted head to one side. “Yes. I think curtains would be nice.”

“Thank you. I completely agree.” He looked around the room. Somehow it exuded a feeling of being aggressively neutral – bland, and yet slightly threatening. Or maybe the flower pollen was making him paranoid. That would be a fun new side effect. “Do you think the flowers are making me paranoid?”

“I think it is more likely that you have neglected your body’s need for sustenance.”

“Are you saying I should eat a snack, and then I’ll feel better?”

In a bit of serendipitous timing, Sybok breezed into the suite carrying a tray of food. Christine and La’an were behind him, with Una bringing up the rear. “As a medical professional,” Christine said, “I agree. Eat. Hydrate. There’s plenty for everyone.”

With T’Pring and Stonn still on the Sh’rel, and Michael on the Xaverius, there were only six of them. Six people were not enough to fill an ambassadorial suite. He nudged all the blankets towards the center of the room, and started pouring tea. If they were going to be awake all night, they were going to need it.

La’an and Christine accepted their cups with thanks, and Christine handed him a meal bar in exchange. “I didn’t see much of you earlier,” he said.

“I was shaking down Uhura for all the gossip I’ve missed since I left,” Christine explained. “And La’an was making sure I didn’t say anything I shouldn’t.”

“Oh? Anything interesting?” He knew she would understand the actual question – was there anything she was willing to share with him?

“Plenty,” La’an said shortly. She had already expressed her feelings about the pollen – namely, that it was terrible, and that she’d prefer to speak as little as possible until it was gone.

“Later?” he asked, and she nodded.

Christine asked, “Are we actually having another sleepover? Does that mean we get to hear the story about the situation that turned out to be a trap?”

“That story is – a long one.” And not one that showed the Earth Fleet in the most positive light. “And it’s really T’Pring’s story, so it would be better if she was there to make sure I tell it correctly.”

He expected Christine to argue, but she looked – happy? “So what I’m hearing is that there will be more sleepovers in the future,” she said.

“Yes,” Spock agreed, from the other side of the room. Agreement and a reminder of the range of Vulcan hearing all in one.

“We should start with the marriage proposal,” Jim suggested. That was another long story. “I don’t want to know what happens if we run out of time and don’t get to it.”

“Excellent choice,” Sybok said, as he rearranged sofa cushions with a casual familiarity. “Now, this is a story I still haven’t heard in full. But rest assured I’ll know if you try to leave anything out, so don’t skimp on the details.”

La’an narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you arrange all of this just so you could learn those details?”

“Not just,” Sybok protested. “It was one of many factors.”

“It’s fine,” Jim said. “It’s a good story. It has action, it has an educational component. It even has a happy ending and everything.”

“What is the educational component?” Spock asked.

“We found that new insect species, remember? I still think they should have named it after you.”

“I was –” Spock cut himself off when Sybok shook his finger at him. “Yes, I think so too,” he said finally.

Jim reached out and hooked their pinkies together, out of sight. “So! This all happened during the time after Stonn and I had bonded, and I was recovering on Vulcan. Earth Fleet Command was still trying to reverse my death certificate, so I was free to tag along with Spock, Stonn, and T’Pring at the VSA. I figured when Earth wanted me to return to active duty, they knew where to find me.”

Jim looked at Spock, who took up the story. “Romulan spies found us first. There were only two of them, but they were unexpectedly well-versed in my daily habits, as well as my abilities.”

“There was a third on the ship, I think,” Jim said, and Spock frowned.

“Perhaps. Things were – unclear, at that point.”

“Details!” Sybok called out. “You’re skipping ahead!”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You already know I irritated them into taking me too. There’s security footage of that; you’ve mentioned it enough times.”

“Which is how I know you’re leaving out an entire conversation about the probability of your imminent death,” Sybok countered.

“They did seem oddly insistent on calculating probabilities, even though they kept changing their mind about what the calculations said. Spock’s right, though – once we were on their ship, things got hazy.”

“Drugs?” Christine asked. “Or were you injured?”

He looked at Spock. “Unclear,” Spock said again. “As if we remember it more than once, or not at all.”

“It could have been drugs,” Jim offered. “Or some kind of mental manipulation? Definitely not a fun time, and the kidnappers were the worst; they couldn’t even agree on their own plan.”

Spock nodded. “There was an argument on the ship – one of them said we were ‘too chaotic to leave to chance.’ The other one said they were supposed to be ‘avoiding chaos, not seeking it out.’ At least one of them had a weapon of some kind.”

“And then they crashed the ship into a moon.” Jim sighed. It had seemed like a nice ship, too. “Spock shifted and grabbed me, and somehow we made it to the surface. We woke up in a cave, without any of our memories.”

“What happened to the Romulans?” Sybok asked.

Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. We never saw them again. Probably good, since we didn’t even remember we should be trying to avoid them at first.”

“We prioritized the basics of survival,” Spock said, which was essentially true. “Once we had secured shelter, water, and food, we turned our attention to assessing our identities.”

Jim added, “I had no idea why living in a cave seemed so familiar. Who knew that prison experience would come in so handy?”

“Our cave was superior to Stonn’s cave,” Spock said grumpily.

“Our cave was very nice,” Jim agreed. “The fact that we had amnesia for a while wasn’t ideal.”

Sybok looked like he was about to ask for details again, so Jim looked at Spock. “A week, maybe? Two weeks?”

“At last two weeks, planetary time.” Spock looked at Sybok. “That is as exact a reckoning of the time as we are able to provide.”

Sybok nodded, so Jim continued the explanation. “We assumed we were already married, at first, or at least together. Later, we surmised that the betrothal bond may have made each of us feel familiar to the other, even when we couldn’t remember anything else about our identities.”

Christine was looking back and forth between them. “So you just – what, decided to make sure?” She held up both hands. “I’m not judging. You know what they say about amnesia moons.”

“I’m judging,” Una said. “Also, what? What do people say about amnesia moons?” She looked around the room, where everyone was very carefully not meeting her eyes.

Jim cleared his throat. “In the, ah, the spirit of truth-telling, there’s a common saying about what happens when people are trapped together on a moon and they both have amnesia…”

“Long days, longer nights?” Christine said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Does this sort of thing happen a lot?” Una asked. “I was only out of touch for a few years!”

Jim waved his free hand towards Spock. “Look, Spock was walking around shirtless and barefoot. For days. He befriended the local wildlife! He built a water filtration system with his bare hands! There’s only so much a person can take. Asking him to marry me was a perfectly reasonable reaction under the circumstances.”

“It was a logical step,” Spock agreed. “Our memories began to return after we completed our bond. Little things at first – our names, our favorite foods. Once we remembered more, we knew people must be looking for us, so we started looking for ways to communicate.”

Spock was doing the thing where he pretended he wasn’t smiling. “It was, in some ways, quite restful. We had no political commitments, no media attention. We were able to devote time each day to exploring the local surroundings.”

It took him a minute to realize Spock was referencing his own words from the start of their trip. “Like a honeymoon?” he asked.

“It would seem to have met the requirements after all,” Spock said.


*******

The night passed quickly, after that. There was no sunrise on a starship, but the lights brightened on their own as the ship’s official ‘morning’ began.

Christine yawned, and patted him on the shoulder. “These things really do just happen around you, don’t they?”

He shrugged. “Everyone has things happen around them. Whether or not they’re exciting just depends on how you tell the story afterwards.”

She blinked, and then shook her head. “I’m going to give that the thought it deserves, but not until after I get some sleep. Good luck with the Day of Seclusion. I’m not part of that, right?”

Everyone looked at Sybok. La’an, who was either the most awake of any of them, or the best at pretending, said, “Are there also rules for the Day of Seclusion?”

Jim thought Sybok’s expression said more than enough, but he explained aloud as well. “Of course. For this phase, James and Spock will be separated – secluded, if you will. Anyone who wishes can visit them, one at a time. There are no restrictions on what can be discussed, and also no penalty if they refuse to answer.”

La’an frowned. “I thought that all the phases were meant to show compatibility; how does being separated help with that?”

Sybok clapped his hands together. “Excellent question; I’m glad you asked. Once bonded, spouses are never truly parted, but there are things we all face alone.” Jim wondered if he was going to make a speech – Sybok was exceptionally good at speeches. But he just said, “This is one of them.”

Good enough. Sybok was also exceptionally good at defying expectations.

Jim was escorted to a different, slightly less palatial, guest suite, where he was surprised to see Michael as his first visitor of the day.

“I twisted a few arms,” she said, and he didn’t bother asking if she meant that literally or metaphorically. “You’ve been awake for over thirty hours; you need rest. Either meditate or take a nap – Stonn will be here after me; we’ll get you a couple hours, at least.”

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, even as he tried to count the hours back in his head. Had it really been that long? “Did we make it out? Is everyone okay?”

Michael gave him an unimpressed look. “During your night of truth-telling, yes. Everyone is fine. Sleep, little brother. We’ve got the watch.”

He did feel better when Stonn prodded him awake two hours later, and pressed a mug of strong tea into his hands. “Almost there now,” he said. “I hear you have a full schedule today.” With a hint of a smile, he added, “You and Spock deserve this.”

Jim squinted at him over the edge of the mug. “I’m not sure if you mean that as a compliment or an insult.”

“Do I have to choose only one? You deserve to know that all of us are willing to fight for your happiness to be recognized. And you also deserve to have some of those fights be silly enough that you remember not to take things too seriously all the time.”

He smiled into his mug. “It is a little silly, isn’t it?”

“Mm. Those ancient Vulcan rituals don’t always translate perfectly into the present day.” Stonn’s mental presence was as warm and welcome as the tea.

“But I am pleased that they give me the opportunity to say this: my family is your family, James Kirk, and your family is mine. It will be an honor to claim those ties officially.”

The honor is shared, he sent, and he knew the rest was understood – yes, and thank you, and me too, and let’s do this, so we can see what happens next.

In the short term, what happened next was a visit from Una, and she jumped right into her questions. “Last night, was Spock reading Pike’s mind?”

Probably. “Possibly,” he said. “If he was, it probably wasn’t on purpose. Most Vulcans don’t indulge in intoxicants much, and Spock less than usual. The pollen made it harder to maintain mental shielding, and Pike thinks – very loudly.”

Una studied him carefully. “Are you reading my mind right now?”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Why would I be able to read your mind?”

“Are you saying you can’t?”

He leaned back in his chair and spread his hands out to the sides. “That’s what I’m saying. The rumors about there being a non-Human ancestor somewhere in the Kirk family tree are just that – rumors. If you want to know about bonded Human-Vulcan physiological changes, there’s plenty of papers that have been published.”

It was all she was going to get out of him, and he could see that she knew it. “Don’t think I won’t be looking into it,” she said. “What are your intentions with La’an?”

That was a question he hadn’t been expecting, but probably should have been. He narrowed his eyes. “Why, what are your intentions with La’an?”

“James. I don’t know how much she’s told you, but she’s been through a lot. She doesn’t have many people looking out for her.”

“She does now,” he said firmly. “And I intend to let her make her own choices. We all do.” He looked at Una – she’d known him pretty well, at one point. “If nothing else, you have to admit we’re good friends to have.”

“You are,” she acknowledged. “Thank you. For La’an, and for what you’re doing here, to back up my ‘surprise return’ from being presumed dead.”

“Those of us who’ve been legally deceased should stick together, right? We could make a club, have some shirts made or something. Maybe they’ll name something after you.”

“Not an insect, I hope.”

“Hopefully not. Try to aim for at least an academic building.” He caught her eyes as she stood up to leave. “And Una – remember, you have people looking out for you too.”

She nodded. “Will do.”

After Una, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Captain Pike was next. The awkward small talk was unexpected, though; wasn’t Pike supposed to be a professional diplomat?

Jim was pretty sure he was working up to asking something important, and almost entirely sure he could guess what it was about. Finally, he got tired of waiting. “What was I like in the other reality?”

Pike winced. “I was definitely not supposed to tell you anything about that,” he said. But then he hesitated, and Jim watched him try to work out what to say next. Or maybe how to say it, because it came in the form of a question. “Would you ever consider being captain of the Enterprise?”

He let his eyes widen, and he whistled. “Wow. Command ambitions, huh?” He folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. He wanted Pike to see that he was telling the truth, to know that Jim wasn’t joking or bluffing – that he absolutely believed what he was saying, and he wanted Pike to believe it too.

“Captain Pike. The Enterprise is an amazing ship. You have an incredible crew, and they’re lucky to have you as their captain.” He raised one eyebrow, a deliberate imitation of Spock. “You have to know that in this reality, the Earth Fleet would never hand me a captaincy.”

“Do you want one?” Pike asked.

It was, inexplicably, a serious question. He let himself consider it seriously, but he found the answer was easy to give. “Not more than I want the other things in my life. I made the choices I made for a reason. I wouldn’t change them. I’d like to think that the me in other realities feels the same.”

Pike nodded. “I’m glad. You’re a good man, James Kirk.”

There was a break after Pike left, and he could feel the itch of waiting for the next person. He breathed a sigh of relief when La’an stepped through the door. She even brought food with her, which he was seriously considering telling Sybok to add into the rules.

“Do you have questions, or did you just get tagged for delivery?”

“Questions,” La’an said, and he waved for her to sit down. “Thanks. Christine told me that what you’re doing now – the four of you all on the same ship, is unusual. That you’re apart more than you’re together.”

He nodded. “Sometimes. It was standard practice during the war to spread bonded spouses out. That’s changing somewhat now, but it’s still common. Sybok rarely travels with any of his spouses.”

La’an frowned. “How do you handle the distance? Being apart from your family – how do you keep your relationships strong?”

He thought about it – how to share what it felt like, when he couldn’t actually share what it felt like. “My parents are both in Earth Fleet Command,” he said finally. “When I was a kid, we moved around a lot, following their postings. It was hard for me to see the point, since they were almost never home anyway.”

“But you wanted them to be,” La’an guessed. “My brother basically raised me. Having kids was a requirement in the colony, but our parents weren’t interested in doing much more than that.”

“I thought I did,” he agreed. “And then there was a year or so when they were both Earth-side at the same time, and they did everything with us. Came to all the events, family dinners at the table, all of it. And I didn’t feel any different.”

He tapped his fingers on the table. “I still felt like they cared about strangers more than they cared about me. When they were around, I worried they wanted to be somewhere else. When they said they were proud of me, I didn’t believe them.”

La’an was nodding, so he figured he must be making some kind of sense. He took a breath, trying to find the right words. “I worried that – maybe that was just how things were. Maybe the same thing would happen with Stonn and Spock, and then T’Pring. That someone would always feel like they were being left behind, or ignored.” It got easier to say with practice, it turned out.

There was a long pause, and finally La’an prompted, “But – it didn’t?”

“It didn’t. Because it turns out it’s not so much about where someone is, or what they’re doing. It’s not even about hearing their voice in your head and knowing how they’re feeling, although I admit that does help.”

La’an narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea where you’re going with this, but I have never in my life wanted anyone to be able to read my feelings out of my head.”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s different for everyone. For me, it turned out to be about how much I trusted myself, and them. Once I trusted that I was capable of loving, and being loved in return, a lot of things fell into place.” He pointed at La’an. “It also turns out that communication really is as important as everyone says it is.”

She almost smiled, and then frowned again. “But how do you stop – just worrying, all the time? If something happened when you were apart –”

“And you don’t worry when you’re together?” La’an flinched, and he knew that she did, because he did too. “Something could happen while they’re standing right next to you.”

It was terrifying and comforting in equal measures. “You never stop worrying. That’s not even love; that’s just life. We all live every day with goodbye. Every time we speak it could be the last words we say to each other.”

He clasped his hands together to keep from reaching out. “I couldn’t love them any more when we’re close enough to touch, and I don’t love them any less when we’re galaxies apart. It’s the love that makes all the worry worth it.”

La’an studied him carefully. Finally, she said, “I’ll think about it.” He nodded. They were talking about him, but he thought they were probably talking about her too. Maybe more than either of them knew.

T’Pring entered with her usual confidence almost as soon as La’an left. Instead of taking the seat across from him, she stepped around the table and sat next to him. “James,” she said, and then stopped.

“T’Pring,” he replied. He laid his hand out flat on the table, palm up. She put her hand on top of his, and he felt their minds slide together as easily as their fingers. Sometimes it was easier for both of them to communicate mind to mind. They’d both spent years orbiting Spock, in and out of the public eye. It was a unique perspective, and sharing it had forged an unexpected connection between them.

T’Pring closed her eyes. As a child, I attributed the differences between Spock and myself to his Human heritage. I was wrong.

He pushed understanding towards her like he was sliding it across the table. We all learn as we grow. It is logical to adjust your conclusions as you receive additional information.

Yes, T’Pring sent, and he opened his eyes to see her watching him carefully. There is not a Human-Spock and a Vulcan-Spock; there is Spock, and that is enough. Likewise, there is not an Earth Fleet James and a Vulcan Fleet James. There is always you, and you are enough.

Did you listen in on my conversation with La’an? He didn’t mind if she had. There were very few secrets between them.

It is logical to provide reminders of the things most important to us.

It wasn’t exactly an answer, and he smiled. You are one of those things to me too.

James. Would you do me the honor of making our bonding official?

It was a question that had laid between them almost since their first meeting, just waiting for the right moment for one of them to pick it up and ask. The bright warmth of his answer filled that same space even before he managed to put the words together. Yes. Of course, yes.


*******

His last visit of the day was a raucous meal with Christine and Erika, swapping stories of the war, and the various ships they’d served on. It turned out the two of them had been friends for years, including an entire academy semester on Starbase 1. There were several stories he had to promise not to share with anyone else until after the statute of limitations was up.

After they left, Jim was alone with his thoughts for nearly the first time all day. So of course, that was when Sybok swept through the doors, with Spock following closely behind him.

Sybok spread his arms out wide. “Congratulations! Felicitations! Your Day of Seclusion is complete, and now there’s just the Public Celebration to go!”

“What, right now?” He’d really been hoping the next step was at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. It had taken them years to get through the first twenty phases of the Treaty Courtship – now they couldn’t even wait one more night?

“Right now,” Sybok said. “No time like the present. If I’m right, and I almost always am, it’s about to be important that you get this done as quickly as possible.”

Jim shook his head and looked at Spock. “Did that make sense to you?”

“No. But I believe that it makes sense to Sybok.” Spock tugged him up out of his chair and into a hug. I missed you today, he sent.

And I you. Have I told you lately that you’re fantastic at hugs?

Yes. However, it is, as you might say, nice to be reminded.

“Yes, yes, hugging later,” Sybok said. Jim raised his eyebrows. “All right, hugging now and later,” he corrected, giving Spock’s shoulder an only-slightly-awkward pat. “Your Public Celebration awaits!”

Someone had really taken the “public” part of the public celebration seriously, and it seemed like half the crew must be packed into the rec room and surrounding corridors. (Sybok. It was definitely Sybok. Who had also pulled Spock off somewhere to review some kind of super secret Treaty Courtship last-minute instructions.)

Jim didn’t actually know most of the people around him, which made it easy to slip towards the outer edges of the room. There was an ensign glaring at a padd that looked familiar – she’d been at the original briefing, when the flowers appeared.

Ensigns knew everything first; if there was something to be glaring about, Jim wanted to know what it was. He put his back against the wall a respectable double-arm length away, and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not a big fan of parties?” he asked.

“What do Vulcans even do at parties?” Uhura muttered, still looking at the padd. She looked up at him and immediately apologized. “I’m so sorry. That was rude; I didn’t mean to be offensive.”

“No apology needed,” he said. “But I can tell you from experience that Vulcans do in fact know how to party.”

He could see the realization hit when she actually recognized him. “You’re – James Kirk. And I just insulted Vulcans right in front of you. I really am so sorry.”

He held up his hands. “And it really is fine. If you don’t mind me saying so, you seem a little stressed.” He gestured towards the padd. “Is everything okay?”

Uhura held up the padd. “I’m fine. It’s just – I’ve been… corresponding, I guess you could say, with an instructor at the Vulcan Science Academy, and he’s –” She cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Well, it’s just hard for me to imagine him relaxing at a party.”

It came to him suddenly. “You’re the friend! The one who showed Christine the translation trick.”

Uhura waved the padd in his direction again. “The one who’s ‘disrespected ten thousand years of pre-Surakian scholarship’? That’s me. Still haven’t learned when to keep my mouth shut.” Her tone was light, but it was obviously bothering her.

“Are you kidding? Being willing to shout your opinion as loudly as possible is practically a requirement of pre-Surakian scholarship.”

He nodded his head towards a table full of Vulcan delicacies. “Have you met T’Pring and Stonn yet? They know how to appreciate academic innovation. Stonn was there when Christine shared your tip; I think he’s been dreaming about getting you to do a guest lecture series ever since.”

Uhura shook her head. “I didn’t mean to – what?”

I found someone you’ll definitely want to talk to, he sent to Stonn, and pointed him out to Uhura at the same time. “As a free hint, that’s the best way to handle a Vulcan party – find someone you can talk to, and then stick to them like glue till it’s over.”

Then he looked at Uhura again. She was the one who’d brought the padd to the party in the first place, after all. “Unless you’d prefer to shout about pre-Surakian scholarship. Totally your call.”

“No, no, I definitely want to meet them.” She looked intrigued, and he smiled.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

Pike caught up with him after he’d made the introductions. “Kirk, are you stealing more of my crew?”

“Me?” He pointed a finger at himself. “I would never. I – am building bridges. Sharing opportunities. Connecting like-minded people to encourage lifelong friendships.”

Pike looked like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh. “Now you’re just quoting from the AFP recruitment pitch.”

He shrugged. “Hey, they picked it for a reason. We’re on the same team, Chris. It may not always feel like it, but our goals are the same – peaceful exploration of the galaxy, helping people who need it, standing up for what we believe in.”

“Christine says she’s not planning on coming back.”

It was news to him, but he could feel T’Pring’s fierce joy about it, and he tried not to smile too broadly. “Christine’s not Earth Fleet, and she took that fellowship all on her own. Everyone makes their own choices.”

“And La’an?” Pike asked.

Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Now you’re reaching – La’an and her brother were never part of your crew, and they were only provisionally part of Una’s. But yes, they’re both planning on coming back to Vulcan with us when we leave.”

He lowered his voice, not sure how much of the situation had been made public knowledge. “You know the fact that there’s a colony out there that Earth didn’t know about is going to ruffle a lot of feathers. Better to get all their paperwork sorted out first, and deal with the publicity later. Let them face it with the backing of the Vulcan royal family, rather than as part of a back-from-the-presumed-dead Fleet crew breaking news story.”

Pike did sigh at that. “Yeah, that’s fair. It’s going to be a circus; I’d avoid it too if I could.” He pointed at Jim. “You can’t have Uhura, though. Best communications officer I’ve ever had.”

He didn’t bother keeping the smile off his face that time. “You might want to get ready to be convincing, Captain Pike. Stonn’s got an offer ready to go, and I’ve always wanted another sister.”

Pike threw up his hands. “Kirk, you can’t just take everyone you meet and adopt them into your family!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why not? Isn’t that what you do, with your crew? You give them advice, you cook meals for them.” He paused, purely for dramatic effect, and then added, “I heard a rumor that your nickname in the Earth Fleet is Captain Dad.”

“That is definitely not my nickname,” Pike said. (It definitely was.) “Besides, that’s different.”

“Is it? Maybe ‘family’ is a concept that has a lot more room in it than you think.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, stepping into the space at his side as if he had never left. “Captain Pike,” he acknowledged. And then, to Jim, “It is time.”

As if on cue, Sybok’s voice rose above the crowd. “The time has come! Thank you all for joining the Public Celebration; we could have done it without you, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

Jim leaned closer to Spock. “Is Sybok standing on a chair? Is the chair part of the official Public Celebration rules?”

“He is,” Spock said serenely. “I have found it expedient to refrain from asking more questions than necessary with regards to the various phases of the Treaty Courtship.”

“Expedient,” he repeated, and Spock nodded. “So I shouldn’t ask why the chair is surrounded by flowers. Are those the truth pollen flowers?” He’d been wondering where they all disappeared to.

“Yes.” Spock looked at the flowers consideringly. “Sybok stated that he is confident the effects have worn off by now.”

JIm couldn’t help thinking that there was a difference between Sybok ‘stating’ that he was confident, and Sybok actually ‘being’ confident, but he definitely wasn’t going to mention it out loud. “Right. Just checking.”

Sybok waved for both of them to come closer, and the crowd parted for them. There was a break in the ring of flowers, and as soon as they stepped inside, a crewmember hurried to fill it in. Impressive. Hopefully Captain Pike wouldn’t accuse him of trying to adopt that one too. Although…

Please focus, James. Sybok’s mental presence rolled through his mind like a sharp breeze, and he took a deep breath.

Focusing, he confirmed with a nod.

Thank you.

Sybok cleared his throat. “It is my great honor and privilege to present to those of you here today: Spock, Second Prince of Vulcan, and James Tiberius Kirk. These two have chosen each other time and time again. They have completed twenty-two of the twenty-three phases of the Treaty Courtship. Today we are gathered to participate in the twenty-third and final phase, and to witness the completion of the Courtship.”

Everyone clapped, which seemed entirely appropriate for Sybok’s theatricality.

Jim nudged his shoulder against Spock’s. Last chance to back out. Soon you’ll be officially stuck with me.

Spock nudged him back. I have been determined to ensure that you will be stuck with me since I was five years old, and we were sitting in a security office together.

He smiled. Me too.

Jim hadn’t been sure if he would feel anything new when the courtship was ‘officially’ completed. They were, after all, already married. (Also it was possible Sybok had made up the entire thing.) But there was definitely something happening..

Are the lights getting brighter in here? He wouldn’t put it past Sybok to have coordinated a lightshow for his grand finale.

You are glowing, Spock told him.

Both of you are glowing, T’Pring added.

“You should hold hands for this part,” Sybok told them, and even he looked a little uncertain

It was an instruction he was always happy to follow. Jim grasped Spock’s hands and let them be grounded in each other. They could have been anywhere, and for a moment it felt like they were everywhere – a cave, an ocean, a blazing sky, the long tail of a comet as it flashed around a star.

This didn’t happen with any of our other bondings.

None of our other bondings took place so close to an area where extradimensional space is rewriting the rules of reality.

He was vaguely aware that there were words he was supposed to say; none of them seemed adequate for what he was feeling.

Betrothed. Bonded. Beloved.

He echoed it back at every level – the words were like flags waving from the turrets of the castle of his thoughts, grounded in the bedrock foundation of his feelings. It was as if the very core of his being reached out and found Spock already reaching back.

“The Treaty Courtship is complete!” He heard Sybok congratulating them as if it was coming from a very long way away.

Oh, good. I think I’m going to pass out now.


*******

In much less time than he would have liked, they were back in the conference room. At least it was the one on the Sh’rel, for a change. It was easy to forget how much of a difference the extra telepathic shielding on Vulcan ships could make.

He dropped into the chair next to T’Pring. “Am I old now? I’m sure I used to be able to stay up late and not feel like this in the morning.”

“Yes,” she said dryly, mentally reminding him that he was the youngest person in the room. “You are a veritable elder.”

“Also, I am not able to call to mind any instances of your statement being true,” Stonn commented. “Perhaps your memory is also in question at your advanced age?”

“Don’t you need to go receive our guests in the transporter room?” he answered. “Or did you want Michael to be left in charge of first impressions?”

(Michael was great at first impressions, but it was an open question whether she would feel the need to do so with Captain Pike. They had a history.) Stonn didn’t quite hurry out of the room, but it was a close thing.

The meeting had actually been scheduled to start even earlier, but the Enterprise contingent was delayed. They’d received word from one of the transporter techs — apparently the flowers hadn’t been quite as neutralized as they’d been led to believe, and there had been several minor incidents to manage.

“What do you think that means, ‘minor incidents’?” he asked idly.

T’Pring answered, “I expect it means ‘there will be no official report of these events.’” She obviously knew the question he wasn’t asking. “Sensors show nothing of concern. If they wanted our help they would ask for it.”

He knew that. Still, he wasn’t good at sitting around waiting for things to happen. Spock silently handed him a padd, and he accepted the distraction. There were always more reports to read.

Or, he supposed, messages to respond to. They weren’t planning to notify Earth Fleet Command until the Treaty Courtship was registered with Vulcan, but he and Sam tried to correspond at least semi-regularly. Sure enough, there was a new notification waiting for him.

Jim didn’t realize how long he had been staring at the announcement until Spock nudged him, a wordless question in his mind. “Sam’s going to have a kid,” he said.

“Congratulations,” Spock said automatically, and T’Pring nodded her agreement. Sybok said nothing, ostensibly meditating at the far end of the table.

“Please pass along our best wishes,” Spock said. The words were pure politeness, but in his head, he was definitely thinking about a tiny baby with Sam’s mustache.

I really don’t think the baby will have a mustache. He was pretty sure, anyway. He hadn’t actually been around many babies in his life.

Perhaps not, Spock acknowledged, and Jim thought T’Pring was laughing at both of them while she pretended to review reports.

“We should send them something, for the baby.” He frowned. “People do that, right? Is it supposed to be a gift for the baby, or a gift for the parents? For the – nursery? Do we send a gift now, and then another one after the baby is born?” What did babies even want, in terms of gifts?

Spock nodded. “I believe gifts are customary, yes. I expect we could ask my mother for her advice on this topic.”

Amanda was going to be thrilled. “That’s an excellent idea. She’ll probably want to know if I’m next.” He laughed. “Can you imagine, me with a kid?”

“Yes.” Jim was gratified that Spock’s mental image of their baby was mustache-free.

“Really?”

“Sam’s child will be your family as well,” Spock said. “I am certain that any child who joins our family will be welcomed most exuberantly.”

“They will, won’t they?” They would have a veritable squadron of aunts, uncles, and cousins to make sure of it. “We should meet them.”

Spock tapped the padd. “We are all scheduled to be on Betazed later this year. That would provide ample opportunity for introductions.”

Conversation in the corridor announced the arrival (finally) of Captain Pike. He stepped through the door with Una and Erika right behind him. Uhura was notably absent, and Jim wondered if Captain Pike thought he was winning that one. If he did, the joke was on him – Christine and La’an were having breakfast with her over video call.

Michael and Stonn took their seats while Pike was still looking around, with Michael nudging Sybok out of his meditation.

“Can you really fly this ship with just one person?” Pike asked. He looked genuinely impressed. As he should – the Sh’rel was an impressive ship.

Jim nodded. “To be fair, you can fly the Enterprise with just one person too.” Across the table, Erika gave a thumbs up. “You just can’t do a whole lot else while you’re doing it.”

“That is true,” Erika agreed. “The Enterprise is a beautiful lady of a ship – she knows she deserves your full attention, and she makes sure she gets it. I’ve always wanted to try flying one of these, though.”

Pike pointed at Jim. “Don’t even think about it.”

He put his hands up. “One hundred percent mission-focused. Now that we’re all here, let’s talk about a plan.”

“I thought the First Prince was handling the announcements,” Pike said, glancing at Sybok.

“Not about the Courtship. About that.” Jim pointed at the screen, which was showing a map of the sector. Their particularly troublesome sub-sector was outlined in blinking red. “Clearly the current warning buoys aren’t sufficient.”

Erika frowned. “Shouldn’t we do something about the pirates? Whoever they are, we have an obligation to protect people who might be traveling through this area.”

Pike looked conflicted. “Conceptually, I don’t disagree. I’m wary of sending any of our ships back in there, though. The spatial anomalies have the potential to be dangerous – we got off easy with the flowers.”

Very quietly, Spock was thinking, I do not wish to be turned into a child again.

I know. It hadn’t been his favorite part of the experience either, and he’d only had to deal with it once. We’ll do our best to avoid it.

“And what if they’re stuck in there?” Una asked. “We can’t just leave them. No one deserves that.”

“What if they’re not?” Pike countered. “If they’ve figured out the trick of navigating the spatial anomalies, that sub-sector makes a perfect base of operations. There’s no way they’d let us draw them out of it, and it’s a serious risk to go in after them.”

Sybok steepled his fingers. “I expect you won’t need to do either. You’ve confirmed your location here with Earth Fleet Command?” Pike nodded, and Sybok turned to Jim. “And your presence here has been recorded?”

“I sent Sam a heads up about some of what’s been going on,” he agreed. “We try to leave the coordinates tag turned on when we can.”

Sybok nodded. “Then I anticipate the ‘pirates’ will come to us.”

“You think they intercepted the transmissions?” Erika asked. “Or have access to that many spies?”

“Neither,” Sybok said. “But Earth Fleet records are declassified after a set period of time, and I expect they can check historical databases the same as anyone else.”

Pike was staring at Sybok, a wary expression on his face. “Why is it that you seem to know what’s happening here, and no one else does?”

Sybok spread his hands apart in a ‘who, me?’ gesture. “So suspicious, Captain Pike. I have nothing to hide. Surely you don’t think you’re the only one who’s ever had a mysterious visitor from a different future show up unannounced in your quarters late at night?”

Pike stared at Sybok, who slowly raised one eyebrow. Finally, he said, “...It was in the morning, actually.”

Sybok smiled. “I think it’s more than fair to say time is relative at this point, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Pike said, after another long pause. “Let’s go with that.”

Erika was looking back and forth between them. “I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m not sure I like it,” she said.

Sybok said, “Understandable, but I’m afraid there won’t be a chance to explain right now. I suggest we all return to our respective ships. Captain Pike, you’re about to be needed on the bridge.”

Sybok’s prediction proved to be accurate. Almost as soon as they’d settled into their stations, a ship dropped out of warp right in front of them. Then another, and another, in a rapid sequence that couldn’t be anything but planned.

“Twelve ships,” Stonn said. “Sensors confirm these are likely the same ships we encountered previously.”

Between one blink and the next, the bridge was suddenly a lot more crowded. Captain Pike and Sybok appeared near Spock, along with three strangers directly in front of the viewscreen.

Brother!

That was not a transporter beam. “How did they get through our shields?”

Weapons?

I am well, Sybok sent. Peace. I believe they intend us no harm.

“Shields are operational,” T’Pring confirmed. Weapons online.

Over the comm channel with the Enterprise, they heard, ”Sh’rel, Captain Pike just disappeared.”

“Stand down, Erika,” Pike said quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Who are you?” Spock asked, and all three of the people in front of the viewscreen pointed at themselves.

“Us?” Jim didn’t have to turn around to know that Spock was raising an eyebrow at them.

“We’re –” The one in the middle looked at the one on their right. “Are we allowed to tell them that?”

“They’re time agents,” Sybok said. “We already know.”

Jim had not known that, but he tried to look like it wasn’t brand new information.

The one in the middle frowned. “Oh. Well, okay? Hi, yes. We’re time agents.” They fidgeted in place, and then quickly added, “Captain Pike, can I just say, it’s such an honor to meet you.”

Pike looked startled. “Ah, thank you?”

“What are you doing here,” Spock said, in that way that demanded an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

The agent in the middle brightened. “We’re here to see the wedding!”

“It’s too late,” Sybok said cheerily. “The Treaty Courtship is complete.”

”What?” That was the agent on the left. “All twenty-seven steps?”

Sybok shook his head. “Check again – in this time the Treaty Courtship only has twenty-three steps.”

“Is that true? Somebody check if that’s true.”

There was a pause, and then the one in the middle said: “Current records indicate twenty-three steps is correct.”

“Ha!” The one on the right cheered. “You owe me a hundred credits.”

Jim didn’t think he was alone in thinking things had taken an unexpected turn. “You’re here to – bet on our marriage? Is that a thing time agents do?”

“What?” The one in the middle tugged on their uniform. “No, of course not. We’re here to clean up all the leftover experiments in sub-sector 023-epsilon-11.” They cleared their throat. “Meeting you was more of a – side project.”

“Then why did you kidnap us?” Spock asked. “And attack our vessel?”

The one on the left waved their hands. “Oh, no, no, that wasn’t us. I mean, it was us, but a different us. Mirror universe us.” They looked at the one in the middle. “Do they know about the mirror universe yet? With the beards?”

“We know about the mirror universe,” Pike said with a sigh. Spock was thinking about Sam’s mustache again.

“Right. Well, their time agents were making some trouble,” the one in the middle said. “But it’s all sorted now!”

He might not know anything about time agents, but he knew bullshitting when he heard it. “Really, that’s what you’re going with? It’s all sorted? We were turned into children – some of us more than once. We existed outside of this dimension. Our ship. Blew up. And you want us to believe you have it under control?”

“The ship did what?” Sybok asked. Apparently no one had told him about that yet.

Jim waved his hand. “It blew up. Probably. I think. We were sort of stuck in a time loop at that point, so it didn’t stick.”

“How do you ‘sort of’ get stuck in a time loop?”

Spock offered, “We surmised that it was not actually a loop, but a spatial anomaly that returned us to a specific point in our past each time we encountered it.”

“Ooh, that’s one of my favorites.” The agent on the left seemed to realize everyone was staring at them. “Sorry. Very sorry about that. But did you really exist outside this dimension? Was it amazing?”

Part of him wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t help smiling instead. “Yes,” he said. “It was pretty amazing.”

“I knew it! And also sorry, again.” They glanced at the agent in the middle, who took a step forward.

“We apologize,” they said. “The other agents, the anomalies – we really can handle them. We can’t tell you how; it’s a time agent thing. But we’ll, ah – we’ll take care of them.”

Jim looked at Sybok. He seemed to be the one who knew the most about what was going on the whole time, and Jim trusted him a hell of a lot more than some stranger claiming to be a time agent. Sybok nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “We accept.”

In another blink, the agents were gone, along with Sybok and Pike.

Back on the Xaverius, Sybok sent, and the Enterprise confirmed Pike had returned as well.

Jim looked around the bridge, and at the ships departing on the viewscreen. “Does anyone else think that was anti-climactic?”

“I, for one, am glad,” Pike said. “Can we all agree this was a – minor incident?”

Spock seemed conflicted, but Sybok’s mental urging was fully in favor, and T’Pring nodded. “Yes,” she said. “We met to discuss further steps to maintain the safety of the sub-sector. It was a productive discussion that concluded in mutual agreement after addressing several points of concern. We will remain in the area for a brief time to confirm that the incidence of spatial anomalies is decreasing.”

”Who doesn’t love a productive discussion?” Pike agreed. ”Good luck with your monitoring. Pike out.”

“So.” He spun around in his chair to face everyone else. “Monitoring, and then where to next?”

“I thought we were going back to Vulcan,” Christine said.

“Sure, eventually.”

He looked at Stonn, who said, “Our flight plan puts us back on Vulcan in another ten days.”

Spock raised his eyebrow. “That would be sufficient time to make several additional stops along the way.”

“This is essentially your honeymoon; you really want all of us tagging along?”

His eyes met Spock’s, and the mental feedback filled the air so strongly it seemed like they should all be able to see it. It was a rush of sensations, of yes, of course, excitement and curiosity, space and stars and what’s out there, and let’s go find out.

“We wouldn’t want it any other way.”