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Mirrored Yesterdays II: Reflections of Tomorrow	By : LoriP Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 1492 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Original Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Mirrored Yesterdays II: Reflections of Tomorrow
- 1
Time in the cave passed slowly, almost more slowly than he could even have imagined. One day blended into the next, each starless night sky fading into another exactly like it. Sometimes, a temporary respite from the environmental onslaught allowed them to venture outside, where the scientist in him, at least, found much to explore. More often, the savage winds and numbing blizzards would trap them inside for days on end, their only sustenance the strips of desiccated meat Zarabeth had learned to put aside as emergency rations.

A temporary thaw allowed them to push their way past the towering ice drifts and visit the vast tundra beyond, where Spock found an abundance of lichens and other, less familiar forms of flora. The greenhouse he had envisioned soon existed in the form of a crude prototype, though flesh was still their principal diet�in more respects than one. Her need for him was constant, shameless, ferocious�more than enough to drive away the pervasive chill of their otherwise empty existence.

Still, Spock had to admit that there was a certain satisfaction in having to focus on nothing beyond the immediate requirements of survival. He found the ascendance of raw instinct over decades of civilized conditioning an engaging spectacle, even if it was sometimes a struggle to maintain the necessary psychological detachment to appreciate it. The ability to experience and even enjoy the effects of unfettered lust could be expected from an evolutionary standpoint; what did surprise him was just how satisfying this form of compensation turned out to be.

He was changing in other ways, too, and in ways that were far more obvious to both of them. His uniform wore out, and so did the one Zarabeth had salvaged off McCoy�s body. They patched the tattered fabric with animal skins and supplemented their wardrobes with the abundance of furs made possible by their combined skills in hunting. Like her, he began to make do with less and less clothing within the confines of their hidden sanctuary. His hair grew longer and his beard, once so carefully trimmed, became coarse and scruffy. Fortunately, his Vulcan physiology seemed to protect him from the detrimental effects they had feared from the Atavachron.

His immersion in her time was nearly complete, and he had to admit that it was not an altogether odious experience. Here, as he had planned, he was safe from the many factions of Imperial pretenders who wanted him dead, including the captain he had deposed and handed over to the Imperial authorities. Serving as Prince Consort on Sarpeidon was a good deal easier than commanding the Enterprise had ever been. Perhaps Zarabeth governed his fate with her threats of debilitating potions and insidious punishments, but on the whole she was a benevolent ruler; besides, he had no doubt that true control, gained through his nightly mastery of her willing body, was his.

Only once did he give in to the futile desire that intruded in his dreams at night, a desire to revisit his old life. Venturing from the cave on his own, he carried the spare tricorder that had once been McCoy�s, long unused now, to the general area of the portal. After activating a subspace distress signal, he wrapped the tricorder in furs and inserted it deep underneath the layers of rock and ice. Zarabeth would never hear it, of course. Probably no one would. Still, there was a chance.

Soon afterward, he began to lose track of time. Weeks seemed like months, months like days, days like years. The only real marker arrived when their baby came�a thin, sallow-skinned, piteously squalling thing that he had difficulty accepting as his son, the product of generations of philosopher-warriors. Frankly, he doubted that the child would survive for very long, and his most urgent concern was that she not get attached to it, as humanoid women were known to do. To his relief, she gave no indication of any particular obsession with her offspring. When the inevitable loss occurred, therefore, he had little reason to fear that she would go mad with grief, or worse.

In the meantime, of course, their weak creation would have to be cared for. Using a set of huge mammoth ribs and a few planks of petrified wood salvaged from the tundra, Spock fashioned a rude crib and assumed responsibility for the necessary tasks Zarabeth would not be able to perform for some time.

One morning, while a vicious storm howled around the cliffs, they slept late, cocooned in the warmth of soft fur and entwined limbs. On Zarabeth�s side of the bed, the infant kicked and tossed in his cradle, but only Spock was jarred awake by an odd, distant buzz that infiltrated his sensitive hearing.

It took him a moment to recognize the sound. He had never expected to hear it again.

He sat up just as a figure shimmered into being no more than fifteen meters in front of him. Moments later, he found himself looking into the face of a woman he had never seen before. She was wearing a jumpsuit that resembled the uniform he had stopped wearing long ago. At her side hung a glistening Imperial dagger.

His first thought was that he was dreaming, if not actually hallucinating. Then Zarabeth stirred and sat up next to him. Her face changed, and she pulled the blankets closer around herself. He knew that she saw the same thing he did.

The woman looked from Spock to Zarabeth, then to the baby, still asleep in the crib. Then she smiled.

"So I�m finally here�face to face with the great Captain Spock. I�ve spent every day for the past three and a half years searching for you, ever since you disappeared. You�re not an easy man to locate, though I suppose that was your intention"

"I admit my original plan changed somewhat." Spock glanced at Zarabeth, who was still motionless and open-mouthed. "But on the whole, you are correct."

"The tricorder was an interesting idea�I almost missed the reference in the historical texts Commander Scott downloaded before the Library was destroyed. It�s a good thing I have a taste for historical research, because I found references to your distress call in the logs of ships that passed this way several millennia before my time. They heard the message�they just didn�t know how to interpret it. I did."

"Your deductive skills appear most impressive. However, I would prefer to know to whom I am speaking."

"Of course. I�m Commander Michaela Taylor, acting Captain of the Enterprise."

"Indeed." His skeptical look clearly amused her.

"You find that hard to believe? I might as well tell you now, sir, things have changed since you left. In the Empire I left, even a woman can fight her way to the top�like I did."

Spock considered this. "What else has happened since I have been away?" he asked after a moment.

"Plenty. Your former captain escaped from the prison colony he�d been sent to and started a rebellion of his own. Most of your crew remained loyal, but a few�Scott, Chekov, and of course Lt. Moreau�decided to take their chances with him. He�s currently raising forces he plans to use to get back everything he lost. We don�t know where he is or how we can stop him�but the Empire is hoping you will. Assuming, of course, that you are willing and able to return to your command."

They looked at one another for a long moment. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Commander Taylor�s right hand drifted along the plane of her hip and brushed against the phaser that hung there.

Suddenly, Zarabeth spoke up. "But how did you get here? Did you come through the portal?"

The woman�s cool gaze shifted from Spock�s to hers. Abruptly her fingers snapped into a fist and dropped to her side.

"No portal. It�s a bit complicated to explain, but basically I created a wormhole. I developed the technology myself�and it will be available to the Enterprise as long as I�m on board. Speaking of which�the ship is in orbit right now, and we have a limited window during which it will be safe to return to our own time. Get up and get dressed; it�s time to come aboard." A pile of leathery garments lay on the rocky ground by her feet; Taylor kicked it toward the bed. "At least there won�t be any competition for Captain�s Woman; I find all that so tiresome."

She watched dispassionately as, modesty forgotten, they pushed back the furs and grabbed for the clothing. Meanwhile, finally, the baby woke with a start and began to wail.

------------------------------

Many of the crew stared at them in open wonder as they strode through the corridors still bundled in their fur coats, surrounded by a ring of Sulu�s most trusted security guards. As they passed, an endless line of fists shot out toward Spock in salute.

Their first stop was sickbay, where the Chief Medical Officer that had succeeded McCoy pronounced Spock fit for command and Zarabeth fit to move freely among the crew. Dr. Chapel made an intimidating figure, with her imposing height and the tight black bun that held her hair in check along with her softer emotions. Her voice was icy as she informed them that their son would have to remain under her personal supervision for the time being.

"It�s a good thing you got him to me when you did," she informed them coldly. "Between the abysmal prenatal care and the transporter shock, he�s lucky to be alive at all. I think I can pull him through for you, though."

"See that you do," Spock told her, clearly unfazed by her critical attitude. "To ensure that you put forth your best effort on his behalf, I will leave a few members of my personal staff to aid you." He motioned to Sulu, who immediately sent a security guard to either side of the biobed that held the infant. Chapel�s mouth was a thin line as the rest of the group left sickbay.

"That was a wise move, Captain," Sulu said as they moved ahead. "She�s still angry over losing McCoy. I wouldn�t put it past her to take it out on your son."

"She may be prepared to lose more than a paramour if she fails to obey my orders," Spock snapped back. Sulu said nothing more until they reached a familiar section of the corridor.

"Your quarters, sir," he said, stepping back as the doors slid open to reveal the most spacious accommodations on board. If Taylor had occupied them�and made use of Kirk�s deadly spying device�she�d had the good sense to clear out quickly. Spock wondered if Sulu, who had served as her First Officer, had also been turned out of the living space that had been Spock�s own during Kirk�s ill-fated tenure. If the younger man felt resentful, though, he betrayed nothing at the moment. If anything, his scarred face was twisted into a lecherous smirk. "You should have plenty of room for both of you to get comfortable."

Then, suddenly, the men were gone and he was alone with Zarabeth.

"Lt. Sulu is correct," he told her. "This particular unit is both safe and commodious. I recommend you take advantage of it, since it would be unwise for you to leave before I have established my authority here on the ship."

"That won�t be any problem. I already like it here immensely." After tossing her fur coat onto the bed, she turned slid her arms around his waist. Spock stopped her in mid-motion by grabbing both her wrists.

"Zarabeth, things will no longer be as they were before. Here, I am captain. You, along with everyone else on board, must be subject to my governance."

"I wouldn�t have it any other way." Freeing her hands, she reached up and unfastened his own outer wrap, peeling it slowly away from his shoulders. The years in the wilderness had turned his body lean and hard with muscle, and she ran both palms over his arms with blatant appreciation. "I told you before how I bedded Zor Khan, that ugly old man, to gain control of his palace. I almost succeeded. Now I can help you gain a kingdom of your own�the difference is that I plan to enjoy every moment of it."

His outer garment fell to the floor, followed by other assorted leather scraps and ties, the remnants of their life on Sarpeidon.

"I have such ambitions for you, Spock�and for our son. One day, you will rule far more than this ship. Trust me."

"For now, I will. See that you give me no cause to do otherwise."

He didn�t object when she drew him toward the bed. At the last moment, laughing, she gave way and pulled him on top of her.
(to be continued)
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Mirrored Yesterdays II: Reflections of Tomorrow