FIC: Divergence 2/?
Title: Divergence
Rating: Mature (violence, language, adult themes)
Pairing: pre-slash nu!K/S, kid!K/S
Cast: ensemble, plus Pike, W. Kirk, A. Grayson, and nu!versions of TOS random crew
Warnings/things to look forwards to: long multi-part fic, kid!Spock, kid!Kirk, time travel, badass!crew, epic friendships among crew
Notes: as a fill for this plotty PROMPT from the kink meme.... I'm pretty confused about ages (due to the nu!verse and TOS verse not matching up exactly) but I've basically made Spock two and a half years older than Kirk
BETA status - no but I'd love one
USS Enterprise, Personal Quarters, Deck Eight, year 2260
Uhura bent over, raking her hands through her long thick hair till it was all in one neat bundle and clasped it. Standing upright, she gave herself a cursory once over; the high ponytail was simply the most efficient to wear on the ship, though she did wish she had time to do something different. Turning, she walked out her quarters and set a quick pace for the Bridge. As soon as the turbolift opened, the Lieutenant in the Captain's chair stood to attention and directed her to the Briefing Room. She nodded her thanks.
It seemed she was early. Spock was present, along with Chekov and Scotty, who gave a feeble wave, the other half of a sandwich flopping out of his mouth. Uhura hid her grin. Sulu came in right behind her, almost stumbling into her. She smiled at his sheepish apology and sat. McCoy was next, looking possibly even more unpleasant than usual. The only man missing was the man of the hour, one Captain James T. Kirk.
The door slid open.
'Morning folks,' He looked surprisingly awake and cheery as he sat down, totally ignoring the dismay on everyone else's face at the hour except for Spock.
Uhura gave up on trying to contain her bemusement and let out a small smile. Of course he lived on adrenalin, could go for days without rest, naturally he was fine after just a mere two hours of sleep. If this turned out to be non-essential (aka - a joke) - and she wouldn't put it beneath him (not yet - Kirk was slowly growing on her though, slowly) - then she was going to kick his ass off-duty, Captain or no Captain. Two years and she still couldn't quite shake off her first impressions of him - all drunken leer, mussed hair, and bad pick up lines. On the other hand, it was refreshing to have a commanding officer younger than she was that didn’t put himself on a pedestal much less allow anyone else to entertain the notion - Captain “Call me Jim” Kirk.
'Okay, let's get this under way. Spock, you wanna do the talking?'
Spock inclined his head. Not a joke then. Uhura scanned the PADD in front of her. Rendezvous with the Copernicus and Lockwood, assist in ascertaining the state of the crew of the Umpqua - hmm, Uhura tapped her finger on the edge of the PADD; the name sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place it.
'At 0300 hours, the Enterprise received an urgent dispatch from Starfleet Command to proceed with deliberate speed to the last known location of the Romulan vessel Narada.'
Everyone shifted in their seats at the name, each caught up in their own memories. It had been barely two years but it still hurt to think of all the people that had died - like members in the Xenolinguistics club, her friends Sue Deng and Josepha Meyers. An entire graduating class gone except for them on the Enterprise and a hundred cadets who had been grounded that day, out of a class of nearly four thousand. She ran her eyes over Spock's face - solemn as always, but stiff and even more unfathomable than usual.
'As you will recall, the Captain ordered the Narada be destroyed, with the intent of preventing the ship and its crew from another attempt to alter events as they were drawn into the singularity and possibly-'
'Sorry to cutting in here, Spock-' Scotty looked confused, '-but this Umpqua - back in me days at the Academy, there's a ship that was lost in action in the Milanot region by that name. Wasn't it investigating some sort of phenomena in space and then poof, just offed and gone? Did they build another one?'
Spock inclined his head, 'That is correct, Commander, the USS Umpqua we are to rendezvous with is indeed one and the same.'
--------
Location unknown, year 2245
Spock did not appreciate being held by the arm like an unruly infant, but he kept silent and allowed their guard to pull him through the large cavernous insides of what he had correctly hypothesized to be a ship. He took careful note of the cold faces that turned to look on their procession, the array of tattoos, their shaved scalps and unclean appearances, as well as the unfamiliar, rather unusual interface of the technology, coupled with the familiar glyphs scribed along various terminals and bulkheads.
Finally, they stopped in a dark room, large with a high ceiling. A bridge, he hypothesized, with the concentration of computer terminals, its seclusion from the rest of the ship and the large view-screen dominating one section of the wall.
A man turned and looked at them. The intensity of his gaze was most unsettling. Besides him, James shifted nervously under their guard's hand.
'Spock,' The man said softly, before his expression became hard.
‘It’s been awhile, Spock.’ The man said, eyes roaming down his form.
Spock felt a curl of unease unfold in his stomach. 'Pardon me sir, but I do not believe we have met.'
The man's smile was very much unlike Mother's or any he had seen before. It did not appear to be a smile though it had all the physical implications of one. Something was off, as James had said when he had explained to the boy his theory regarding their presence onboard. The man's eyes moved to James. He strode forwards, his footsteps loud and heavy. Standing over them, he stared at them for a long silent moment. Spock felt a creeping sensation over his skin and held his breath.
He curled his fingers thoughtfully through a lock of James’ hair, 'My wife, she had hair like yours, like a dark sun.'
The comment was confusing and, Spock tilted his head slightly, out of context. He wondered if it was to unsettle them. If that were the goal, then the man had succeeded. James’ entire body was softly trembling.
'She’s dead you know, along with the rest of Romulus.’ He said, with a slight unpleasant quirk of his lips, ‘Not that you’d care, right Spock? You -' He glared at Spock coldly, '-said you’d save them - I gave you what you needed to save them and you promised, you promised me to my face.’ The Romulan spat the words out, like they were filthy. Stepping back, he ran his hand along his scalp roughly, and paced in agitation.
Spock stiffened. Romulus… the homeworld of the Romulan Star Empire! The mythical descendents of Master S’Task and his allies, those Vulcans from long, long ago who had left and whose history was a story rather than a recorded fact; the enemies of the Federation and the instigator of the Romulan War! He was not privy to all of his father’s business but he knew enough that many years ago, Romulans had unexpectedly attacked Federation vessels near Trianguli 15, revealing their Vulcanoid heritage and greatly disturbing relations between Vulcan and the Federation Council. Only the existence of various other Vulcanoid races, who were full-fledge Federation members, had stilled the Andorian/Tellarite accusations of espionage and deceit, that Vulcan was a puppet government of the Romulans and had been from the inception of the Federation.
‘They called you a wise man - your name was known among the stars. But you allowed my world to die, my wife, my child…’ The Romulan stopped in his ramblings and eyed James. Slowly walking over again, he dropped down on one knee, smiling as if he was explaining this to a particularly dimwitted child. ‘You’re the reason I failed though, you-' The man reached out and roughly ran a hand through James' hair, painfully squeezing down. He chuckled when the boy wretched his head away with a glare, '-will help him destroy me when I seek my revenge, James T. Kirk, Captain, and your cursed Enterprise.'
He shared a look with James. No one had ever seen a Romulan before, and now it appeared one from the future was standing before them, claiming that he had come back in time for revenge on an event that had not yet happened and been thwarted in the recent future by the two of them. A most perplexing state of events, and Spock admitted with apprehension, cause for concern.
‘I hope you are aware, sir, that under the treaty agreed upon after the Battle of Cheron in 2160, there is a designated Neutral Zone, and entering into that area of space or any Federation territory constitutes an act of war- ’
‘I don’t care about your treaties or your Neutral Zones!’ The man shouted.
Besides him, James flinched.
The man stared at him, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. Spock found it difficult to return his gaze when he was eyed as if he were a xenobiological specimen. Finally, the Romulan spoke, his voice hollow; ‘Not a day goes by without the suffering of losing my home. I wait, every day, for that Vulcan bastard to show up, so I may have my revenge. Then… one day, one of my crew - from the future no less - arrives to tell me the exact time of his arrival. But she also brings news of my failure and disgrace and… well,’ The man grinned fiendishly, ‘I always knew I should have killed you when I had the chance - no matter which one of you it is, you’re still Spock.’
Spock felt a tremor go through him; though it was still unclear, he knew several pertinent facts. This man claimed to be from a future where the Romulan homeworld had been destroyed - an event that the future him could have prevented, but for some reason unable; he could not believe that he would deliberately do such a thing, no matter how events should play out in his life - life was sacred, and the right to life was undeniable, this much he knew as a follower of Surakian principles. This man was certain that his counterpart from the future would arrive, upon which he planned to exact revenge for what he viewed as a betrayal. This man knew that his attempt at revenge in the near future had failed, and James - Spock glanced at his new acquaintance with some interest - and himself as his opponents.
The man switched his penetrating gaze to James, who went rigid and stared boldly back. Spock didn’t know if he admired his strength or thought it foolish, ‘My revenge will fail… because of you and your little friend here, Spock… in your stupid little ship. Well, that isn’t going to happen again this time - I learn my lessons. It’s not enough to just deprive you of the lives you should have had, not enough to just kill you.’
There was a pressure against his wrist. James was tugging on the edge of his sleeve. Spock felt a strong urge to reassure James by a hand on the shoulder as per human custom but refrained under the heavy stare of the Romulans around them. The Romulan scrutinized their appearances as if they were a puzzle he could not understand, his emotional countenance varying greatly between confusion, cold rage and humor. Finally, the man looked away, stumbling back to his chair.
‘Take him away.’
Spock wondered if it would be unbecoming of him to sigh.
‘Not him!’ The man snapped, gesturing at James, ‘He stays.’
James gave him a frightened glance but quickly schooled his expression to be impassive. Spock felt a flush of admiration and surprise at the human for the unexpected show of composure, and then quickly concern as he glanced over at the brooding expression upon the Romulan’s face. James reached out and snatched his hand, clasping it tightly and making a sound of distress as Spock was pulled away and they were separate by a guard who pushed the boy back towards the chair where the man sat.
He expected James to be distressed, to call out but the boy said nothing, just stared at him, eyes wide with fear. He held the boy’s gaze till the guard pulled him through the doors and out of sight.
------
USS Enterprise Briefing Room, year 2260
Uhura blinked. One and the same? But Scotty had a student at the Academy almost fifteen years ago!
'The USS Umpqua was traveling through that area of space approximately fifteen years ago when it disappeared. It appears that while we had been successful in destroying the ship, there was an unforeseen consequence of the Red Matter being deployed in such a manner, with large-scale temporal disturbances being one side effect. As far as the crew of the Umpqua is aware, only seconds have passed -'
She glanced to the side as Kirk looked up sharply at Spock's words, something unspoken on his face.
'-and they bring news that unfortunately, it appears that we were unsuccessful in our attempt to destroy the Narada. The crew of the Umpqua reported that in the duration of their study, they had picked up sensor readings of a small vessel - origin unknown - exiting the "electric storm in space" heading towards the Neutral Zone. I can only assume that a member of the Narada crew has indeed survived via an escape pod and plans to convene with the Narada of that time.'
There was a terse silence.
Agitated, Kirk tapped his stylus on the table in an impatient manner, 'Basically folks, we have a Romulan, alive, fifteen years in the past, with knowledge of how things would turn out if Nero just sat around for twenty-five years - anyone see where I'm heading with this?'
Uhura shared a look with Sulu. Yes, Nero could be right this very moment, armed with the knowledge of how they defeated him or rather who defeated him, be in the process of killing their younger counterparts in the new time-stream. Spock hit one of the buttons to draw up the holographic displays and a working to-scale model of the Milanot system blinked into existence above the conference table.
‘Our mission has been given to us directly by Starfleet Command; we are to follow the escape pod into the past and make every attempt to prevent any further disturbance to the timeline.’
---------------
Location unknown, year 2245
‘You know… it’s rather funny…. I’ve read about you - I can’t seem to get it right, can I?’ The man chuckled darkly at his own joke, ‘My world burns, my wife and child slaughtered, and I want one thing, one little thing in compensation and no, I can’t even have that because I just happen to run into the most fearsome Starfleet Captain to be born - ever, considering that they still murmur your name in awe over a hundred years from now. I can hardly believe, that you, you, came after me. By the Elements, I should be proud - the James T. Kirk and his battle companions on the Enterprise.’ The man smiled thinly and rested his chin on his hand, slouching back in his seat like a king surveying his domain.
James T. Kirk stood as still as he could, trying to perfect a bored expression on his face. The man had been talking for awhile, and he could just keep on talking; even if his mom was never there, she’d taught him two good things. One; knowledge is power and two; they can’t get you if you ain’t afraid of them. James wasn’t planning on taking his eyes off the viewscreen and giving them the satisfaction. He heard a loud sniff by his right ear and felt his skin jump in fright. The Romulan roared with laughter and slapped his knee. He felt a flush burn his cheeks.
An unnaturally hot hand curved around his jaw and tilted his head up.
‘You’re so young, it’s funny, you just don’t get it do you?’ The Romulan gave him a broad smile that almost looked normal, ‘Every picture I ever saw of you, you were old, an Admiral, a warrior. You were considered a great warrior. We respected you - even if we hated you. But look at you,’ The man pinched his cheek hard enough to bruise, and it took everything inside of him to not stumble forwards, ‘Nothing but a child; your bones are even still soft.’
He turned his eyes to the man addressing him and felt a burst of hate. He’d heard the stories, he’d covered the Romulan War in school, knew what they did to people, and shit, what they did to Frank.
‘Don’t look so afraid.’ The man smiled, ‘I’m hardly going to disfigure you.’ With a heavy pat on the head, the man sat back once more, ‘We’re Rhiannsu and we know how to be civilized, decent. Besides, when Spock does arrive I need him to recognize you, let him know what I stole. It’ll be about as good as when I finally destroy Vulcan.’
James clenched his teeth, not really listening anymore. It was Romulans who took Frank’s leg. It had been a Romulan vessel that attacked the Kelvin. Unconfirmed and of course the Empire denied it to high heaven but he always knew it in his gut.
‘I knew your father.’
He stopped breathing.
‘I recognized his ship. Afterwards, of course…’
He glared into the eyes of the Romulan, and promptly spat in the man’s face.
The punishment he got was worth it.
------------
Spock’s eyes snapped open as his light meditation was broken by the sound of the hatch opening. James was thrown unceremoniously into the cell, crashing with a sickening thud of flesh and metal. The boy gave a grunt of pain and curled into a fetal position. A glowing cube was thrown in, along with what appeared to be a medical satchel, before the hatch closed against with an ominous grind of metal against metal.
In the blue semi-darkness, Spock watched James’ mouth take quick fleeting gulps of air.
‘Are you injured?’ He murmured softly.
James made a sound of pain, and then with considerable effort, rolled into an upright seated position, ‘No, I’m fine.’
A lie, Spock inclined his head, one told to alleviate perceived collective suffering ; Father had warned him more than once of this illogical trait in humans. His father had also instructed him to not comment on this and merely do as the situation warranted regardless of what the human in question had said. He knelt and quickly separated the items from the medical satchel out. There were containers of water, what appeared to be protein bars, as well as bandages and disinfectant, but no hyposprays or dermal-bandages.
‘Spock,’ James whispered, ‘He killed my dad.’
‘That is unfortunate.’ He said truthfully.
Though father would admonish him, he had already accepted that his human nature meant that he would suffer grief at the mere notion of his parent’s passing. And the idea of his father’s permanent absence did trouble him greatly, though logically it would not be so different from his father’s current absences for diplomatic tours.
‘Spock…’ James’ voice had changed, becoming rough and unsteady, followed by sounds that Spock identified as sobbing, ‘Spock, he killed my dad - my dad - he wasn’t meant to die, my dad wasn’t meant to die!’
Spock apprehensively looked up; ‘I’m sorry,’ He said, though it was illogical.
He remained still as James crawled closer and laid his head on against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso. The smell of water filled the air, mixed with something bitter and acrid, and he experienced a physical sensation he did not recognize that rendered him incapable of movement, or speech, his breaths shallow. Spock wondered if this is how humans felt on Vulcan, when they haven’t been given an injection to help them breathe the air.
part three
Rating: Mature (violence, language, adult themes)
Pairing: pre-slash nu!K/S, kid!K/S
Cast: ensemble, plus Pike, W. Kirk, A. Grayson, and nu!versions of TOS random crew
Warnings/things to look forwards to: long multi-part fic, kid!Spock, kid!Kirk, time travel, badass!crew, epic friendships among crew
Notes: as a fill for this plotty PROMPT from the kink meme.... I'm pretty confused about ages (due to the nu!verse and TOS verse not matching up exactly) but I've basically made Spock two and a half years older than Kirk
BETA status - no but I'd love one
USS Enterprise, Personal Quarters, Deck Eight, year 2260
Uhura bent over, raking her hands through her long thick hair till it was all in one neat bundle and clasped it. Standing upright, she gave herself a cursory once over; the high ponytail was simply the most efficient to wear on the ship, though she did wish she had time to do something different. Turning, she walked out her quarters and set a quick pace for the Bridge. As soon as the turbolift opened, the Lieutenant in the Captain's chair stood to attention and directed her to the Briefing Room. She nodded her thanks.
It seemed she was early. Spock was present, along with Chekov and Scotty, who gave a feeble wave, the other half of a sandwich flopping out of his mouth. Uhura hid her grin. Sulu came in right behind her, almost stumbling into her. She smiled at his sheepish apology and sat. McCoy was next, looking possibly even more unpleasant than usual. The only man missing was the man of the hour, one Captain James T. Kirk.
The door slid open.
'Morning folks,' He looked surprisingly awake and cheery as he sat down, totally ignoring the dismay on everyone else's face at the hour except for Spock.
Uhura gave up on trying to contain her bemusement and let out a small smile. Of course he lived on adrenalin, could go for days without rest, naturally he was fine after just a mere two hours of sleep. If this turned out to be non-essential (aka - a joke) - and she wouldn't put it beneath him (not yet - Kirk was slowly growing on her though, slowly) - then she was going to kick his ass off-duty, Captain or no Captain. Two years and she still couldn't quite shake off her first impressions of him - all drunken leer, mussed hair, and bad pick up lines. On the other hand, it was refreshing to have a commanding officer younger than she was that didn’t put himself on a pedestal much less allow anyone else to entertain the notion - Captain “Call me Jim” Kirk.
'Okay, let's get this under way. Spock, you wanna do the talking?'
Spock inclined his head. Not a joke then. Uhura scanned the PADD in front of her. Rendezvous with the Copernicus and Lockwood, assist in ascertaining the state of the crew of the Umpqua - hmm, Uhura tapped her finger on the edge of the PADD; the name sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place it.
'At 0300 hours, the Enterprise received an urgent dispatch from Starfleet Command to proceed with deliberate speed to the last known location of the Romulan vessel Narada.'
Everyone shifted in their seats at the name, each caught up in their own memories. It had been barely two years but it still hurt to think of all the people that had died - like members in the Xenolinguistics club, her friends Sue Deng and Josepha Meyers. An entire graduating class gone except for them on the Enterprise and a hundred cadets who had been grounded that day, out of a class of nearly four thousand. She ran her eyes over Spock's face - solemn as always, but stiff and even more unfathomable than usual.
'As you will recall, the Captain ordered the Narada be destroyed, with the intent of preventing the ship and its crew from another attempt to alter events as they were drawn into the singularity and possibly-'
'Sorry to cutting in here, Spock-' Scotty looked confused, '-but this Umpqua - back in me days at the Academy, there's a ship that was lost in action in the Milanot region by that name. Wasn't it investigating some sort of phenomena in space and then poof, just offed and gone? Did they build another one?'
Spock inclined his head, 'That is correct, Commander, the USS Umpqua we are to rendezvous with is indeed one and the same.'
--------
Location unknown, year 2245
Spock did not appreciate being held by the arm like an unruly infant, but he kept silent and allowed their guard to pull him through the large cavernous insides of what he had correctly hypothesized to be a ship. He took careful note of the cold faces that turned to look on their procession, the array of tattoos, their shaved scalps and unclean appearances, as well as the unfamiliar, rather unusual interface of the technology, coupled with the familiar glyphs scribed along various terminals and bulkheads.
Finally, they stopped in a dark room, large with a high ceiling. A bridge, he hypothesized, with the concentration of computer terminals, its seclusion from the rest of the ship and the large view-screen dominating one section of the wall.
A man turned and looked at them. The intensity of his gaze was most unsettling. Besides him, James shifted nervously under their guard's hand.
'Spock,' The man said softly, before his expression became hard.
‘It’s been awhile, Spock.’ The man said, eyes roaming down his form.
Spock felt a curl of unease unfold in his stomach. 'Pardon me sir, but I do not believe we have met.'
The man's smile was very much unlike Mother's or any he had seen before. It did not appear to be a smile though it had all the physical implications of one. Something was off, as James had said when he had explained to the boy his theory regarding their presence onboard. The man's eyes moved to James. He strode forwards, his footsteps loud and heavy. Standing over them, he stared at them for a long silent moment. Spock felt a creeping sensation over his skin and held his breath.
He curled his fingers thoughtfully through a lock of James’ hair, 'My wife, she had hair like yours, like a dark sun.'
The comment was confusing and, Spock tilted his head slightly, out of context. He wondered if it was to unsettle them. If that were the goal, then the man had succeeded. James’ entire body was softly trembling.
'She’s dead you know, along with the rest of Romulus.’ He said, with a slight unpleasant quirk of his lips, ‘Not that you’d care, right Spock? You -' He glared at Spock coldly, '-said you’d save them - I gave you what you needed to save them and you promised, you promised me to my face.’ The Romulan spat the words out, like they were filthy. Stepping back, he ran his hand along his scalp roughly, and paced in agitation.
Spock stiffened. Romulus… the homeworld of the Romulan Star Empire! The mythical descendents of Master S’Task and his allies, those Vulcans from long, long ago who had left and whose history was a story rather than a recorded fact; the enemies of the Federation and the instigator of the Romulan War! He was not privy to all of his father’s business but he knew enough that many years ago, Romulans had unexpectedly attacked Federation vessels near Trianguli 15, revealing their Vulcanoid heritage and greatly disturbing relations between Vulcan and the Federation Council. Only the existence of various other Vulcanoid races, who were full-fledge Federation members, had stilled the Andorian/Tellarite accusations of espionage and deceit, that Vulcan was a puppet government of the Romulans and had been from the inception of the Federation.
‘They called you a wise man - your name was known among the stars. But you allowed my world to die, my wife, my child…’ The Romulan stopped in his ramblings and eyed James. Slowly walking over again, he dropped down on one knee, smiling as if he was explaining this to a particularly dimwitted child. ‘You’re the reason I failed though, you-' The man reached out and roughly ran a hand through James' hair, painfully squeezing down. He chuckled when the boy wretched his head away with a glare, '-will help him destroy me when I seek my revenge, James T. Kirk, Captain, and your cursed Enterprise.'
He shared a look with James. No one had ever seen a Romulan before, and now it appeared one from the future was standing before them, claiming that he had come back in time for revenge on an event that had not yet happened and been thwarted in the recent future by the two of them. A most perplexing state of events, and Spock admitted with apprehension, cause for concern.
‘I hope you are aware, sir, that under the treaty agreed upon after the Battle of Cheron in 2160, there is a designated Neutral Zone, and entering into that area of space or any Federation territory constitutes an act of war- ’
‘I don’t care about your treaties or your Neutral Zones!’ The man shouted.
Besides him, James flinched.
The man stared at him, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. Spock found it difficult to return his gaze when he was eyed as if he were a xenobiological specimen. Finally, the Romulan spoke, his voice hollow; ‘Not a day goes by without the suffering of losing my home. I wait, every day, for that Vulcan bastard to show up, so I may have my revenge. Then… one day, one of my crew - from the future no less - arrives to tell me the exact time of his arrival. But she also brings news of my failure and disgrace and… well,’ The man grinned fiendishly, ‘I always knew I should have killed you when I had the chance - no matter which one of you it is, you’re still Spock.’
Spock felt a tremor go through him; though it was still unclear, he knew several pertinent facts. This man claimed to be from a future where the Romulan homeworld had been destroyed - an event that the future him could have prevented, but for some reason unable; he could not believe that he would deliberately do such a thing, no matter how events should play out in his life - life was sacred, and the right to life was undeniable, this much he knew as a follower of Surakian principles. This man was certain that his counterpart from the future would arrive, upon which he planned to exact revenge for what he viewed as a betrayal. This man knew that his attempt at revenge in the near future had failed, and James - Spock glanced at his new acquaintance with some interest - and himself as his opponents.
The man switched his penetrating gaze to James, who went rigid and stared boldly back. Spock didn’t know if he admired his strength or thought it foolish, ‘My revenge will fail… because of you and your little friend here, Spock… in your stupid little ship. Well, that isn’t going to happen again this time - I learn my lessons. It’s not enough to just deprive you of the lives you should have had, not enough to just kill you.’
There was a pressure against his wrist. James was tugging on the edge of his sleeve. Spock felt a strong urge to reassure James by a hand on the shoulder as per human custom but refrained under the heavy stare of the Romulans around them. The Romulan scrutinized their appearances as if they were a puzzle he could not understand, his emotional countenance varying greatly between confusion, cold rage and humor. Finally, the man looked away, stumbling back to his chair.
‘Take him away.’
Spock wondered if it would be unbecoming of him to sigh.
‘Not him!’ The man snapped, gesturing at James, ‘He stays.’
James gave him a frightened glance but quickly schooled his expression to be impassive. Spock felt a flush of admiration and surprise at the human for the unexpected show of composure, and then quickly concern as he glanced over at the brooding expression upon the Romulan’s face. James reached out and snatched his hand, clasping it tightly and making a sound of distress as Spock was pulled away and they were separate by a guard who pushed the boy back towards the chair where the man sat.
He expected James to be distressed, to call out but the boy said nothing, just stared at him, eyes wide with fear. He held the boy’s gaze till the guard pulled him through the doors and out of sight.
------
USS Enterprise Briefing Room, year 2260
Uhura blinked. One and the same? But Scotty had a student at the Academy almost fifteen years ago!
'The USS Umpqua was traveling through that area of space approximately fifteen years ago when it disappeared. It appears that while we had been successful in destroying the ship, there was an unforeseen consequence of the Red Matter being deployed in such a manner, with large-scale temporal disturbances being one side effect. As far as the crew of the Umpqua is aware, only seconds have passed -'
She glanced to the side as Kirk looked up sharply at Spock's words, something unspoken on his face.
'-and they bring news that unfortunately, it appears that we were unsuccessful in our attempt to destroy the Narada. The crew of the Umpqua reported that in the duration of their study, they had picked up sensor readings of a small vessel - origin unknown - exiting the "electric storm in space" heading towards the Neutral Zone. I can only assume that a member of the Narada crew has indeed survived via an escape pod and plans to convene with the Narada of that time.'
There was a terse silence.
Agitated, Kirk tapped his stylus on the table in an impatient manner, 'Basically folks, we have a Romulan, alive, fifteen years in the past, with knowledge of how things would turn out if Nero just sat around for twenty-five years - anyone see where I'm heading with this?'
Uhura shared a look with Sulu. Yes, Nero could be right this very moment, armed with the knowledge of how they defeated him or rather who defeated him, be in the process of killing their younger counterparts in the new time-stream. Spock hit one of the buttons to draw up the holographic displays and a working to-scale model of the Milanot system blinked into existence above the conference table.
‘Our mission has been given to us directly by Starfleet Command; we are to follow the escape pod into the past and make every attempt to prevent any further disturbance to the timeline.’
---------------
Location unknown, year 2245
‘You know… it’s rather funny…. I’ve read about you - I can’t seem to get it right, can I?’ The man chuckled darkly at his own joke, ‘My world burns, my wife and child slaughtered, and I want one thing, one little thing in compensation and no, I can’t even have that because I just happen to run into the most fearsome Starfleet Captain to be born - ever, considering that they still murmur your name in awe over a hundred years from now. I can hardly believe, that you, you, came after me. By the Elements, I should be proud - the James T. Kirk and his battle companions on the Enterprise.’ The man smiled thinly and rested his chin on his hand, slouching back in his seat like a king surveying his domain.
James T. Kirk stood as still as he could, trying to perfect a bored expression on his face. The man had been talking for awhile, and he could just keep on talking; even if his mom was never there, she’d taught him two good things. One; knowledge is power and two; they can’t get you if you ain’t afraid of them. James wasn’t planning on taking his eyes off the viewscreen and giving them the satisfaction. He heard a loud sniff by his right ear and felt his skin jump in fright. The Romulan roared with laughter and slapped his knee. He felt a flush burn his cheeks.
An unnaturally hot hand curved around his jaw and tilted his head up.
‘You’re so young, it’s funny, you just don’t get it do you?’ The Romulan gave him a broad smile that almost looked normal, ‘Every picture I ever saw of you, you were old, an Admiral, a warrior. You were considered a great warrior. We respected you - even if we hated you. But look at you,’ The man pinched his cheek hard enough to bruise, and it took everything inside of him to not stumble forwards, ‘Nothing but a child; your bones are even still soft.’
He turned his eyes to the man addressing him and felt a burst of hate. He’d heard the stories, he’d covered the Romulan War in school, knew what they did to people, and shit, what they did to Frank.
‘Don’t look so afraid.’ The man smiled, ‘I’m hardly going to disfigure you.’ With a heavy pat on the head, the man sat back once more, ‘We’re Rhiannsu and we know how to be civilized, decent. Besides, when Spock does arrive I need him to recognize you, let him know what I stole. It’ll be about as good as when I finally destroy Vulcan.’
James clenched his teeth, not really listening anymore. It was Romulans who took Frank’s leg. It had been a Romulan vessel that attacked the Kelvin. Unconfirmed and of course the Empire denied it to high heaven but he always knew it in his gut.
‘I knew your father.’
He stopped breathing.
‘I recognized his ship. Afterwards, of course…’
He glared into the eyes of the Romulan, and promptly spat in the man’s face.
The punishment he got was worth it.
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Spock’s eyes snapped open as his light meditation was broken by the sound of the hatch opening. James was thrown unceremoniously into the cell, crashing with a sickening thud of flesh and metal. The boy gave a grunt of pain and curled into a fetal position. A glowing cube was thrown in, along with what appeared to be a medical satchel, before the hatch closed against with an ominous grind of metal against metal.
In the blue semi-darkness, Spock watched James’ mouth take quick fleeting gulps of air.
‘Are you injured?’ He murmured softly.
James made a sound of pain, and then with considerable effort, rolled into an upright seated position, ‘No, I’m fine.’
A lie, Spock inclined his head, one told to alleviate perceived collective suffering ; Father had warned him more than once of this illogical trait in humans. His father had also instructed him to not comment on this and merely do as the situation warranted regardless of what the human in question had said. He knelt and quickly separated the items from the medical satchel out. There were containers of water, what appeared to be protein bars, as well as bandages and disinfectant, but no hyposprays or dermal-bandages.
‘Spock,’ James whispered, ‘He killed my dad.’
‘That is unfortunate.’ He said truthfully.
Though father would admonish him, he had already accepted that his human nature meant that he would suffer grief at the mere notion of his parent’s passing. And the idea of his father’s permanent absence did trouble him greatly, though logically it would not be so different from his father’s current absences for diplomatic tours.
‘Spock…’ James’ voice had changed, becoming rough and unsteady, followed by sounds that Spock identified as sobbing, ‘Spock, he killed my dad - my dad - he wasn’t meant to die, my dad wasn’t meant to die!’
Spock apprehensively looked up; ‘I’m sorry,’ He said, though it was illogical.
He remained still as James crawled closer and laid his head on against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso. The smell of water filled the air, mixed with something bitter and acrid, and he experienced a physical sensation he did not recognize that rendered him incapable of movement, or speech, his breaths shallow. Spock wondered if this is how humans felt on Vulcan, when they haven’t been given an injection to help them breathe the air.
part three