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a clear call (that may not be denied)	By : onekisstotakewithme Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 490 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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“You know, Jim, if this were a real ship and I caught you staring wistfully at the horizon, I’d be hog-tying you to the mast.”
“Hm?” Jim asks, his attention torn away from the porthole, only to find Bones giving him an amused look. “What’s that, Bones?”
“You look like you’re contemplating throwing yourself overboard. I was wondering what siren’s call was luring you out there.”
“Oddly philosophical for a man who claims to be a simple country doctor, Bones.”
“A simple country doctor… in a pig’s eye,” Bones mutters.
The phrase catches Jim’s attention, a warning klaxon sounding deep in his belly. “Bones?”
“How I ever let you talk me into signing on for another tour… I should be enjoying my retirement on a porch in Georgia somewhere!”
“You’ve got four months to change your mind,” Jim reminds him, absentmindedly. “Most of the rest of the crew has signed on though, and we’d be sad to lose you.”
“That’s right, most of the crew has signed on again, and yet I still catch you wandering around with a case of the mopes. What’s eating you, Jim?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing, and I’m willing to bet my Aunt Fanny on it.”
Jim chuckles a little, the weight on his heart easing. “You haven’t got an Aunt Fanny.”
“You know what I mean.”
“It’s nothing, Bones.”
“You wouldn’t lie to your doctor, would you? Especially not on the eve of one of your last physicals?”
“What, that time again?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. Which reminds me – can you kindly order Mr. Spock to present arms and legs and the rest of him at his physical? I’d do it, but he’s been snappish lately.”
“After that brush with the nebula last month, we’re all pretty shaken,” Jim agrees, relieved to have something else to focus on besides the stars – and Mr. Spock. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if that incident alone wasn’t leading to a few hold-outs among the crew who’d otherwise have signed on.”
“Aha, now we’re getting somewhere. Who is it that hasn’t signed on that you want to?”
“Bones…”
“It’s Spock, isn’t it?”
“Bones, your psychological insight never fails to astound me,” Jim says, clapping him on the shoulders. “Now if you don’t mind… I have a report I have to finish for Starfleet.”
“He’s going to come back, Jim!” Bones calls after him. “You know it as well as I do.”
“Yes, well…”
“How could he resist all of this?” Bones asks, gesturing around. “What’s that old poem you’re always quoting? Something romantic, I believe?”
“All I need is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by,’” Jim quotes.
“He’ll come around – and I’ll make sure he’s fighting fit to do so.”
“Thank you, Bones. Dismissed.”
Jim is relieved for the quiet of his quarters, although he makes a beeline for his computer, checking the details again of the crew members signing on for another mission.
And next to Spock’s name, as it’s been for the past week, it’s still blank.
“Damn,” Jim mutters, sagging back in his chair.
But before he can do anything else, there’s the sound of the klaxon overhead, and Uhura’s voice – calm with undertones of frantic – comes through loud and clear. “Red alert! Repeat, red alert. Ion storm approaching!”
“Ion storm?” Jim says, confused, before turning to the computer, slamming the button to call the bridge. “Helm. What do you mean, ion storm?”
“It’s right ahead of us, sir!” Chekov calls back. “At the speed we are going, we will surely hit it!”
“I thought we calculated this route to avoid the path of the ion storm – did it change?”
“No, Captain, it must have been an error.”
“The sensors?”
“Captain,” Spock says, his voice chiming in to the chaos. “I input that data myself. Manually.”
This has Jim reeling – how could Spock make such a careless mistake?
“I’ll be right up. Kirk out.”
He hurries up to the bridge, and when he steps out, Spock appears to be avoiding his gaze.
It’s a familiar scene, but Jim calls to Chekov, “Update, Mr. Chekov?”
“We have changed course, sir, but it will be close.”
“Well, I like our odds,” Jim says, before turning to Spock. “And Mr. Spock? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Spock, if possible, looks even more stoic than usual, though Jim can detect the faint tinge of green at the edges of his ears, indicating his embarrassment. “It is inexcusable, Captain, but I have made an error.”
“In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never known you to make such an error. What’s the matter, are you sick?”
“I am… well, Captain.”
This is clearly a lie, as Jim can see that his first officer, who is usually steady as a rock, is trembling faintly, and his face looks gaunt.
“I want you to go see Bones, Spock. Right away, you understand?”
“Captain, I apologize. But I do not see-”
“That’s an order, Mr. Spock.”
“Indeed, Captain.”
“Thank you.”
Jim settles into his chair, relaxing as Sulu calls out, “Ion storm should be visible on the view screen… but I think we can get around it.”
“Our lucky day,” Jim says easily, the sweat on his back turning hot. “Mr. Chekov, take over for Mr. Spock while he reports to sickbay.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Captain…”
“Go, Mr. Spock.”
“Yes sir.”
The sound of the turbolift closing is especially loud on the silent bridge, and in that silence, Jim swears he hears the whisper of reproach.
Or perhaps it’s only a feeling of foreboding.
Jim is lying on his bed, because he’s supposed to be sleeping – according to his circadian rhythm, it should be his time to sleep now.
But instead, he’s lying awake and thinking about the near-disaster that they barely avoided.
Between that, and the fact that Spock hasn’t re-upped yet, Jim has a nagging suspicion that he may want to be rid of the Enterprise altogether.
“Don’t be silly,” he mutters aloud, and even saying it seems to soothe him somewhat. “Spock wouldn’t resort to sabotage.”
As if on cue, the door buzzes.
“Come!” Jim calls, uncovering his eyes.
Spock looks gaunt, haunted, and looking as though he’s trembling as he walks in. “Captain… you are alone.”
“I am. And I don’t need to hear another apology, Mr. Spock. The crisis was averted. A simple mistake that anyone could have made-”
“I did not come in here seeking reassurance, Captain. Nor am I anyone, but that is not important. I am surprised that Doctor McCoy has not found you already.”
“Found me? Why? What's going on?”
“For the last seven point three days,” Spock says, continuing as though he hasn’t heard Jim, “I have found myself becoming extremely restive. I also lack an appetite, and am prone to violent outbursts of emotion.”
“People will say they’re in love,” Jim mutters to himself, and Spock’s eyes flash with a momentary suppressed rage that sends a shiver down his spine. “I’m sorry, Mr. Spock. It’s the wrong time for jokes.”
“I accept your apology.”
“Why didn’t you come to me with this sooner?”
“Because I… I feared what these symptoms meant. A human emotion, and a logical one at that, but nonetheless, I was afraid.”
“Wait a minute, Spock, are you saying-?”
“It is… the pon farr,” Spock admits, his face flooding with colour. “The doctor was able to spot it at once, and I knew I did not have long before he told you.”
“Alright,” Jim says, his emotions dulled by a lack of sleep. But looking at Spock, standing there with a green flush on his face, trembling to suppress the urges no doubt sweeping over him in waves – Jim can’t find it in him to be angry anymore. “And I suppose that explains the mishap with the ion storm.”
Spock inclines his head in agreement.
“It’s… sooner than expected.”
“Yes, the… human half of my biology appears to have made the cycle less predictable than a full Vulcan’s.”
“Well…” Jim pulls himself together, rubbing his hand over his face. “Not to worry, Mr. Spock. I suppose we had best lay in a course for Vulcan, get you to that lady of yours. Although this time, I think I’d prefer to remain a spectator, you understand?”
“Yes… Captain, I understand.”
“Excellent.”
“Jim! Jim!” Bones bursts through the door, not even noticing Spock, and talking a mile a minute, “Jim, we’ve got to get to Vulcan, and we’ve got to be there yesterday.”
“Bones-”
“I wouldn’t have spotted it if I hadn’t seen it before,” Bones continues. “And I don’t suppose Spock told you that that’s what’s eating him-”
“Doctor,” Spock cuts him off, and Bones has the decency to blush at least.
Jim almost laughs, but it bursts into a yawn instead, as he stands up, walking over to his computer to call the bridge.
“Mr. Chekov, lay in a course for Vulcan.”
“What speed, sir?”
Jim lets go of the button for a moment, feeling his heart do something medically unsafe in his chest as he looks at Spock, shaking and gaunt before him.
“How long?” he asks, softly.
“A week, perhaps. No more.”
“Well, we’ll be cutting it close… but we’ll get you there in time - a day or two to spare at most, but we'll get there. I promise you that, Mr. Spock.”
Spock looks less reassured than Jim would hope, but Jim is sure it’s just the late hour, the lack of food, and the exhaustion associated with keeping thousands of years of biology under a tight lid.
“Warp Factor 7, Mr. Chekov.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Well, I’ll… I’ll leave you to it,” Bones says, before making his exit.
“You’d best inform your family,” Jim says with a yawn, heading back for his bed. “I’m sure they’d love to see you, if nothing else. And I’ll be glad to see Vulcan again. You’re lucky we’re close enough.”
“Captain…”
“Yes, Spock?”
Spock looks as though there’s something he wants to say, a flash of emotion on his face that Jim can’t read.
But in the end, all he says is, “Will you beam down with me?"
Jim is momentarily at a loss for words, but then nods. "I'd be honoured to."
"Thank you, Jim.”
“You’re welcome, Spock. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sir.”
The door slides closed behind him, and a few minutes later, Jim drifts off into an uneasy sleep.
But something about Spock’s behaviour haunts him – and in his dreams, the red planet of Vulcan looms over him.
Vulcan is much as Jim remembered it from the sky, staring out his usual window, the red deserts burning against the inky black sky below the Enterprise.
They’ll be beaming down shortly – and Jim is surprised that the only message that was waiting for them when they assumed standard orbit was one from Ambassador Sarek, offering a remote estate in the foothills of Mount Tar’hana – to the planet’s surface.
Jim is brooding, lost in thought as he watches the planet.
Somewhere down there, he thinks, is she who will become Mrs. Spock.
He doesn’t know why the thought leaves him hollow – Spock has long since demonstrated that Starfleet takes priority over his personal life – but it does.
He prides himself on his discretion, having never pried into Spock’s personal affairs after what happened with T’Pring.
This does however mean that he is woefully unprepared for whatever woman will be waiting for them when they beam down, no doubt with a full Vulcan pedigree to satisfy both Ambassador Sarek and T’Pau.
“Jim?”
He turns. “Bones. Is it time?”
Bones nods, glancing between Jim and the porthole. “Spock’s waiting in the transporter room.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Well… he’s cutting it awful fine. All I’ll say is he’d better hope the only death he’s having is the petite kind.”
“That joke is hardly worthy of you, Bones,” Jim says, but he grins all the same, relieved that he can still find it in him to smile.
“Has he said anything to you about the girl?”
“Not a word. You want to beam down with us?”
“No thanks Jim, I had enough of their hospitality to last a lifetime.”
Jim tears himself away from the porthole, walking down the hallway.
“I suppose it was for the best last time,” Bones is saying beside him, “Since I can’t picture Spock being married, can you? He always seemed the confirmed bachelor type to me.”
“How do you mean?”
“Oh, you know,” Bones says with a shrug. “He’d be the first to tell you that his first love – if indeed he even believes in such a thing – is the Enterprise. Same as you.”
“Well,” Jim says, feeling a little affronted. “I’ve been in love before, Bones.”
“Yes, I know, you’ve left a trail of broken hearts from starbase to starbase,” Bones say sardonically, and Jim wants to reply, but by then the door is sliding open to the transporter room.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” Scotty says, gesturing to the platform. “I hope your business goes weel.”
“Right. Stay out of the Saurian brandy while we’re away.”
“I willna make any promises,” Scotty says, but he laughs as Jim steps up onto the transporter platform.
“Energize.”
The room disappears around them, and when they re-materialize on the planet, all Jim feels is the crushing heat, momentarily blinded by the blazing sun.
It takes him a minute, blinking hard, to see their surroundings, standing in a courtyard of Sarek’s Mount Tar’hana estate – but when he can see, he’s surprisingly disappointed.
The only one waiting for them in the courtyard is Sarek, who nods when he sees them.
“Captain Kirk. My son. Welcome to Vulcan.”
“Ambassador, we appreciate your hospitality.”
“Father, you… will not be staying, will you?” Spock asks anxiously, and Jim has to hide a smile.
Yes, he supposes he wouldn’t want to consummate a marriage with his father in the next room.
“No, I have business to attend to in ShiKahr. I merely desired to greet you upon your arrival.”
“It is much appreciated,” Jim assures him. “We thank you for the use of your estate.”
“If there is anything you require, it will be attended to.”
“Thank you, Ambassador.”
Sarek offers him the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Captain Kirk.”
“Live long, Ambassador, and prosper.”
Sarek walks off, leaving Jim to turn to Spock, who looks even worse under the light of the Vulcan sun, a faint sheen of sweat developing on his face.
“Alright, Spock, where is she?”
Spock shoots him a slightly-dazed look, and then regains his faculties. “Captain?”
“Your fiancée, your betrothed… where is she?”
“Captain, perhaps… we’d best go inside.”
“Spock?”
Spock turns and looks at him, and seems to sag a bit in distress. “Captain… Jim. There is no woman.”
Jim is too hot to demand further explanation in the full heat of Vulcan midday, so he waits patiently until they’re in the blissfully cool house.
“Spock,” he says, frustration overwhelming him. “Explain.”
Spock looks exhausted as he glances up at Jim. “There is no woman.”
“What do you mean there isn’t a woman?”
“I was correct… in my hypothesis that Vulcan women do not want to be the consort of a legend. My father, and T’Pau were not able to engineer a new betrothal.”
“But you’re going to die-”
“And soon,” Spock says softly. “I am not afraid to die, Jim, not with you here.”
“But you can’t die – you can’t,” Jim sputters. “I won’t let you. That’s an order.”
“Captain. I am out of time.”
“How did this happen?”
“The unpredictability of onset due to my human biology… meant that whatever time I thought I had is now gone. And there is no woman, which means that the ancient drives will overwhelm me. And I shall die.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple biology.”
“And if I refuse to allow you to die?”
“Jim, I have… brought you here because I know I am going to die,” Spock says, his voice soft, and all Jim can picture are the years ahead of him, yawning like a chasm without Spock at his side. “I am at peace with this decision.”
“But you don’t know-”
“Jim.”
Jim shuts up, his heart aching, feeling like it’s about to burst out of his chest. He resists the urge to vomit.
“It goes against my beliefs to use a woman to satisfy my urges who is not mine, and who does not want me.”
“Even if your life depends on it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a very noble sentiment Mr. Spock, but I find it… most disagreeable.”
“Be that as it may, I wish to have you here with me.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Spock.”
“You have very little say in the matter, Captain. You cannot defeat biology. You cannot summon a Vulcan woman, ten Vulcan women, a hundred. It will be too late.”
“Then there’s no other choice,” Jim says, meeting Spock’s gaze. “It will have to be me.”
“Captain-”
“No. It’ll have to be me.”
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a clear call (that may not be denied)