He came down, of course. There were certain parts of him that had wanted to come down here for a while now, and then there was the most logical part of his mind that said he should have kept as far away as possible, for his own good--one little incident had sparked off so much turmoil in his life. To do the same thing, and not expect expect the same result sounded a bit like insanity, though he was far from ignorant of Pike's capabilities now
( ... )
The final comment made him smirk, flexing his fingers. "The construction of my set." He repeated, looking amused about the whole situation. "A man has to keep his secrets, as you well know." Would be all he said about their making.
He remained seated, the cat waiting for its prey to move closer before striking. He locked his gaze to Spock's. "Who said I don't have a standard model?" Skipping the one question completely.
Spock reminded himself that he should never underestimate this man's ability to lure him into annoyance or physical intimidation (which wouldn't work anyway).
Now, there was nothing stopped him from stepping into the cell, but he kept close to the doorway. Not that distance would likely stop the other. "The one I have in my possession is etched with a serial number and markings that indicate it is assigned equipment for all of your officers." It had been chilling to read 'Terran Empire' under his close examination. "Your gloves have no such identification that would indicate they are part of a larger collection." He would know.
Or, of course, I could simply have more then one. Spock, how foolish this younger counterpart is.
Pike lifted a hand, flexing the glove slowly. "A Vulcan, as you well know, is three times stronger then a man. When one, or any person, gets close enough to touch me, I decided on my own advantage."
His eyes were drawn to those fingers, almost beckoned forward by the motion. But Pike's own words explained why he couldn't step forward, yet. "But you are able to control its activation." Of all the places where he did not feel uncomfortable discussing what had happened, it was this origin point. Unsurprising. "Whereas the standard only has a simple switch and pressure mechanism."
"They're something I designed, you're right in that guess." He stated calmly, looking towards Spock. His fingers curled back into a fist, as if gesturing for the other to come closer.
"If you will not reveal more specifications to me, sir," Spock took a small step closer, but not without his hand shifting to rest on the phaser at his hip. "I will find a way to relieve you of them, for my own study. A man may have his secrets, but you will derive no benefit from them, dead to your universe and almost the same in this one." There, again, his morals were faltering in the presence of this man.
"And you will not learn what you wish if you took them from me." Pike said calmly in return, as if the threat meant nothing to him. When it came to this particular threat, it didn't. But his words, specifically chosen, did have a clue in them.
"You are the one to decide whether I must confiscate them." Carefully sifting the annoyance out of his voice. He did not have the patience of his elder selves, certainly not in light of their previous experience with each other, but the faint sense of Jim watching kept him somewhat calm. "It would waste less of our time if you would only tell me."
"...they are a technology that I doubt exists within your Federation." The Pike kept his tone calm as he slowly removed one glove, displaying the broad hand beneath. "Take from a culture beyond even our reaches, trained to my thoughts and bodily reactions, and I simply applied it to our normal devices before the ship was destroyed."
It was a hand whose strength he knew far too well--with the brief flicker of a memory, he could feel the tug on his hair, a grip on his throat. But he was still a scientist at heart; he wanted to lurch forward, examine this all in detail--anything to get more information. But Spock stood still where he was. "Must you always destroy the remnants of other species?"
"Actually," Pike's tone turned to something amused, "They decided the Empire looked like a potential interest in conquering. That we were somehow weaker then the Klingons or Cardassians. It was a scout ship that responded entirely to their thoughts." He turned the glove so the inside of it could be neatly seen by the man in front of him. It was glowing, very faintly, deep inside, unseen through the thick leather.
Spock took one--two--steps closer, to get a better look at this glow. The hand still remained on the phaser, and with each step closer to the man the grip became more secure over it. "Did you share your knowledge of this technology with your science department?" Though, if the secrecy was any indication, he thought against it. "Or, at the least, my alternate?"
"Good distinction." Pike said calmly, seemingly intent on remaining where he was and letting Spock peer closer. "Your alternate knew." Not relenting on any more information then that. Well, perhaps a touch, "He was endlessly fascinated by the technology."
"Did you provide him the opportunity to replicate it?" If Spock, personally, had been given the chance by either of his captains, he would have spent more than an entire day picking it apart, and then twice as much time trying to build something similar. Spock also needed to know how much this Pike's science division got to tinker with the technology of civilizations they conquered or subjugated. If the Enterprise were able to seize all the wondrous technology they encountered on their travels, and would encounter--his people would be overflowing with things to do, and he would be all the happier for it.
"It was only discovered about three months ago, but we have put it to good use so far." Pike said, hearing that eager urge in Spock's tones that no change in universe could remove. "These," A flex of the gloves, "Were our first triumph."
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He remained seated, the cat waiting for its prey to move closer before striking. He locked his gaze to Spock's. "Who said I don't have a standard model?" Skipping the one question completely.
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Now, there was nothing stopped him from stepping into the cell, but he kept close to the doorway. Not that distance would likely stop the other. "The one I have in my possession is etched with a serial number and markings that indicate it is assigned equipment for all of your officers." It had been chilling to read 'Terran Empire' under his close examination. "Your gloves have no such identification that would indicate they are part of a larger collection." He would know.
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Pike lifted a hand, flexing the glove slowly. "A Vulcan, as you well know, is three times stronger then a man. When one, or any person, gets close enough to touch me, I decided on my own advantage."
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