Gozine leaned sweetly into the Hierophant's arms and looked up at him with a trusting innocence he'd never possessed. And no fear whatsoever.
"We must be strong, together, Master." He murmured breathlessly. 'How annoying these repressed high born Klingon's are,' he thought, 'you want me, I'm game, let's go. But, oh no, you've got to make a passion play and pageant out of it, don't ya? Hochofedra.' And he shrugged mentally.
The Hierophant looked into Gozine Ghet's big brown eyes and was lost. An Avatar could not have gotten his attention at just that moment.
He bent to kiss the novice's forehead and moved to his eyes, cheeks, nose, jaw, still thinking he would walk away from this, and finally, his lips. And knew there was no walking away from this.
Gozine was impressed. Obviously, the Hierophant intended to take his time about this and that was fine with him. He had all night and had gleaned a great deal of information from the man already.
(There was turmoil in the Imperial court.) The Hierophant lay down on top of him and crushed his mouth to Gozine's.
(The Yhets had the upper hand in events and the Emperor's ear for the moment.) He cupped Gozine's ass in his big hands and ground their erections together.
(The Haat clan's plan was to consolidate their planets and wait for the Yhets to do something stupid, which could be counted on to happen.) The Hierophant eased Gozine's habit over his head and stroked his cool hands over the lithe body beneath his.
(The Yhets hoped to cut a swathe through the Autonomous Zones and attack Romulan territory in its least densely planeted space. The Roms would then move their defenses from the real objective, which was the system of rich planets of the Autonomous Zones closest to Klingon space.) The Hierophant lifted Gozine gently in his arms and carried him to the bed.
(The Haats intended to allow the Yhets to proceed with their preparations, but would withhold, divert or sabotage crucial supplies for as long as possible to keep the Yhet fleets in Klingon spacedocks until the Haats themselves could finish consolidating their hold, military as well as cultural, on the rich planets, such as the one they were now on, in this peaceful sector bordering a vast Autonomous Zone.) Kroldt pulled off his vestments and lay naked on top of Gozine.
(The last thing the Haats wanted was another war, even a small one, with the Romulans because ... ) Kroldt spread Gozine's legs very wide.
( ... their fleets had been devastated by an organized rebellion in the Yqirorian system and preyed upon by Autonomous Zones pirates in their weakened condition.) Kroldt seemed unsure of the next move, Gozine lifted his hips to center the Hierophant's cock at his anus.
(Hence, it was necessary for the Haats to destroy the Yhet's plans with delays, restore their own fleets and by that time have so discredited the Yhet's in the Emperor's eyes that they could continue to colonize non-aligned space. The Emperor did not want war with his former in-laws either but his favorite concubine of the moment was an agent for the Yhets and he was under the beauty's thumb as well as spell.) The Hierophant pressed inside and rolled his head back in animal pleasure.
(The Haats had their own agents in the Imperial household and intended to remove the offending concubine once the creature's usefulness had been exhausted. The Haats were consummate strategists, they had flourished for a long time and didn't intend to let the fool Yhets spoil it now.) Gozine rose to meet his lover's long, hard thrusts.
(The Yhets were not stupid either. They had recently made peace with the pirates in the Autonomous Zones closest to their richest planets and, unlike the Haats, had not lost some of their best ships and commanders so were in better material condition that their rivals. For the moment. The Haats had every intention of changing that. Building a fleet is expensive. Repeatedly rebuilding a sabotaged fleet is even more expensive.) Kroldt slowed his thrusts and reached between them to stroke Gozine's hard penis.
Gozine decided he had enough information and laid back to enjoy what had turned out to be really excellent sex. He arched against his lover, rubbing his cock against the smooth honey-colored belly.
Kroldt gathered Gozine in his arms and kissed him deeply. He began to move with more purpose. He was ready to cum and hoped his partner was, too; if not, too bad.
He flung himself against Gozine, who met his powerful thrusts with his own, and felt his climax crash over him. Kroldt noticed Gozine thrashing against him in his own climax as he collapsed on top of him. When he could notice anything else he did not notice any cum between them.
"Did you ... ah... find release?" he finally asked.
"Yes, Master, thank you." Gozine looked demurely at him from under lowered jet lashes. It was devastating.
(The Mage only make semen when impregnation is required but the Hierophant wouldn't know that until he asked Gozine years later.)
Kroldt rolled off him and lay on his back panting. Gozine rose and walked over to the heap of clothing on the floor. He put on his own habit. He returned to the bed, picked up the Hierophant's robes and carefully laid them over the back of a chair.
Kroldt watched him. He rose, pulled back the covers and got under them. He held them open for Gozine, who hesitated.
"Stay. No one will ask about it and if they do I'll tell them I've developed a deep and compelling interest in sculpture."
Gozine tossed off his habit and curled beside his new lover. Kroldt drew him close, pushed aside some ebony curls and kissed his alabaster forehead.
"How little you are," he murmured, enthralled by the creature he held.
Gozine sighed with pleasure and snuggled a little closer. He fell asleep in the huge arms.
The next morning the cathedral was consecrated, the Commune was split and the Hierophant presided over the creation of a new branch of the Gozshedrefreingin commune and four new Klingon masters to guide it. Master Whilla in structural design, Master Pzchaz in terrain design, Master Khat in painting and as head of the commune, Master GozineGhet, the sculptor. The other Masters, including Master Tehn, and a number of their artisans were packed off to sculpt cherubs and paint saints in a monastery on the other end of the Empire. The decidedly unfashionable end of the Empire.
As news of these astonishing events spread, Gozine was given another name in religion: Gozine the Confessor. Due to the Hierophant's cagey recommendation (his story, and he was sticking to it, was that he recognized Master Ghet's greatness while confessing to him) Master Ghet found himself hearing the confessions of the most powerful Klingons in the Empire.
The confessions themselves were boring. Klingons confessed things Gozine did not consider serious transgressions such as fear, doubt, awe, but the meta messages he read in their telefields were absolutely fascinating. He offered what comfort and insight he could to the penitent, usually more than they expected and so developed a reputation as something of a saint.
Gozine found this highly amusing. So did the Hierophant and he occasionally commented on Gozine's saintliness and other virtues - in bed. Gozine had grown rather fond of Kroldt, he wasn't a bad lot compared to other Klingons. Having such a powerful lover also afforded Master Ghet the luxury of only sleeping with those who interested him.
The best part of these new conditions was that Gozine could relay the information he gathered to his brothers, especially Hobie, and in certain cases influence the Klingons to act in ways beneficial to the Talljets and their interests. This, combined with Ling's whores, Jir's monarchs and Hobie's pirates, made the Talljets rich, secure and happy. It was wonderful except for one small problem.
The Federation was continually vying for influence in the same sectors as the Klingons, often with greater success due to their lack of history with the planets in question. Since Ling's cat was out of the bag and the Federation banned his house, the Talljets had lost what little influence they had there. Once a planet joined the Federation it was time to move house for the Talljets and the Klingons. The Federation had inherited some rather amazing art and architecture from the Klingon communes in this process and for once they fully appreciated it. Klingon Masters became famous in the Federation art world, among them one Master Ghet who was known only by his rune on his work.
One of the most famous of his works was the Tossarian Gates on Zatichket enclosing the tomb of Captain Tossar, the pirate, who had liberated them from the Roms and died in the successful defense of the planet. The Haats had commissioned them because Tossar had done them a big favor by kicking the Roms back into their old boundaries. Hobie had been Tossar's lover and had been grateful to Master Ghet. He had loved Tossar enough to regret his death. Losing Zatichket to the Federation was yet another disappointment and resentment for Hobie. But, hochofedra, shrug, what can you do?
Otherwise, the Talljets lived happily as best they could and Master Ghet, as he was now famous, was very content in his work and in the commune. It was a full and busy life.
And they were busy working on the Rovirin cathedral. It was an ambitious project. The Klingons and the Hierophant planned to use it as his main argument, along with the garrison and fleet, to keep Rovirin out of the Federation. Gozine wished them Godspeed. He, like his brothers, had a little second sight and had an uneasy feeling that they would lose Rovirin eventually but he did not know how. Or perhaps, only he would lose what was important to him but, again, he did not know how or when. Only that when it happened, all would be well, somehow.
'Hochofedra,' he shrugged savagely and glared at the little apprentice waiting for his attention. The child took a step back and Gozine softened his gaze.
"Captain Talljet would like a word with you, Master," He squeaked.
Gozine had his shields up and was not taking calls from anyone: "I am still not available," he said in Patois.
"Which is why I had to drag myself all the way down here to have a five minute conversation with you, o' saint Gozine." Hobie strolled in and circled the sculpture in progress.
"Hraja, bring us some tea, please." Gozine waved both apprentice and journeyman out of the room. "What brings you here, brother?"
"You, MajaYaja," Hobie said, using his brother's pet name. "We miss you when you keep your shields up." Maja Talljet dropped his shields. "You see, that's better." He smiled at Hobie. "And even better when you smile."
"I've been working, Hobie."
"And the Hierophant was here. I saw his flotilla leaving. Man travels in style, I'll say that." Hobie was impressed by the quality of ship the Haats provided their priest.
"Hochofedera, Nolo" Maja shrugged.
"Any news, Maja?"
"All good. The Klingons are delighted with the new isolationism on Terra. As goes Terra, so goes the Federation."
"They are stupid to forget the Vulcans."
"They would like to forget the Vulcans but, as you and they know, the Vulcans are not interested in forging alliances in non-aligned space for the Federation in opposition to their allies the Terrans. Except possibly Sarek the Vulcan, he likes being in opposition to the Terrans." 'Especially Star Fleet,' he added to himself.
"Yes," Hobie mused, "but I understand he is quite ill these days and is staying home on Vulcan indefinitely."
"I'm sorry he's ill but glad he is staying on Vulcan and out of our hair."
They nodded at each other. All the Talljets were wary of Sarek and walked lightly where he was concerned. It was something useful they'd learned in their youths on Vulcan. Hraja brought in the tea, Tien and Farro at his heels.
Tien flung himself into his uncle's arms: "How wonderful to see you, Uncle! And are Polmira, Lyra and Bot really going to live here?" Polmira, Lyra and Bot were Hobie's children and dearly loved by their Commune cousins.
"Can't they?" Farro snarled at Maja with his usual directness. Maja sneered playfully at Farro's enthusiasm for his cousins. He usually took no notice of others but he adored Polmira, Lyra and Bot. He and Polmira were almost the same age and had played in various sandboxes together. It was, on the whole, a happy history.
"If your Master says yes, then, yes." Hobie gave his brother a charming look.
Maja Talljet laughed: "Well, why not? Polmira, Lyra and Bot are always welcome here. I'm sure they missed me, too, Nolo."
Hobie smiled wryly, knowing at least half of his motives for the visit were discredited.
Maja's children rampaged out of the room to go settle their cousins.
"Your JetCheqs (half Talljets) get prettier everyday, Noli."
"I look forward to seeing yours, Hobie," Maja poured them Relan tea. "Why have you brought them here?"
"I want them where I know they're safe for a while. I'll be in space for some time, settling the rebellion on Certeg, in the Ertig system."
"Again? Don't those fools know what's good for them?"
"Something about self determination, Maja. I see their point but don't like it and won't tolerate it. I'm tired of losing planets to the Federation so no more Mr. Nice Guy."
"Umm."
"I'm also concerned about their education."
"Whose?" Maja was startled.
"Polmira, Lyra and Bot. Who else?"
"Oh." He raised his eyebrows sympathetically, "Your children are always welcome here, Hobie, we have some new tutors that I am very impressed with so rest assured..."
"Bot's Standard needs work."
"We'll see to it."
"And Polmira doesn't draw very well."
"Hobie..."
"And Lyra is having trouble with math."
"Hobie, don't worry, we'll get Tien to tutor Lyra and Polmira and I'll work with Bot myself. Let this be the first joy in your heart but last trouble in your mind." He quoted an old Rom proverb they had learned as children on Magidrian.
Hobie let Maja's peace wash over him and drank his tea. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments and then moved out into and among the Commune where Hobie's children looked as if they had been living forever.
Hobie spent the evening and night and was very much at peace when he left orbit in his ship, the Dancer, the next morning.
"Why have you been avoiding me since we got back from Vulcan?" McCoy was standing in Spock's quarters, late one evening, several days after those traumatic events.
"I have not been avoiding you, Doctor. We have both been extremely busy these past few days." Spock was using his bridge voice and was unreadable. He was wearing a heavy black robe.
"But it's not the same with us, is it?" He hated this void between them. Spock's costume reminded him of trying to talk to Carmelites.
Spock was silent, half hoping McCoy would say more.
"No, it is not the same with us," he said at last.
McCoy wondered should he stay or should he go and decided to ask: "May I sit down, Spock? I have a theory I'd like to share with you."
Spock was wary but gestured him to a chair. McCoy was using his best bedside manner and that made the Vulcan wonder what he was on to.
McCoy sat, composing himself, wondering how much he'd miss going to bed with Spock when this conversation was over. He cleared his throat: "Based upon what you told me about Pon Farr, there is no obvious explanation for your recovery. Being half Terran does not completely explain it, although that is the explanation I put in my report to Star Fleet. I have, however, another idea based on your behavior toward me lately."
"I have explained ..."
"Steady, Spock, I don't believe that any more than you do. I can feel the difference in you. I can't measure it or test it but I can feel it."
Spock lowered his eyes. McCoy continued, trying for scientific detachment: "You were bonded young and your system had adjusted to it. Since I did not know about the Bonding, I assumed your bioreadings were normal for a Vulcan male of your age. When they changed with the onset of Pon Farr I was able to compare them to each other. My theory is that an unbonded Vulcan male of your age, having undergone the trauma of unbonding through the challenge would have a different set of bioreadings."
Spock raised his eyes. McCoy lowered his: "Unless he was bonded to another."
Spock was silent.
"It is my opinion that you bonded to Jim under the stress of combat and that accounts for your bioreading being what they were before Pon Farr." He raised his eyes, "And that also accounts for the change between us."
Spock exhaled. Relieved that he would not have to explain it and impressed that Leonard had drawn such accurate conclusions on such skimpy data. He nodded.
"I did not know this would happen."
"But it has and what do you intend to do about it?" Concern but not anger in the doctor's voice.
"Nothing."
"NOTHING."
"Leonard, please, control yourself." McCoy took a deep breath and Spock continued: "I had hoped to adjust to my new condition without your notice. Having failed, however, I do not feel that it impacts our relationship in any way. I was bonded to T'Pring and involved with you to no ill effect."
"Just for your information, Spock, I would have known you were married."
"It did not seem necessary..." Spock raised a finger to successfully silence McCoy's outburst. "As I thought I would never experience Pon Farr. It usually occurs at a much younger age. Therefore, since I planned to remain in Star Fleet I saw no reason to tell you about it since it did not affect us."
"And now?"
"It still does not affect us. It is my hope that we can continue our relationship unimpeded, as before."
"Are you going to tell Jim?"
"No, I do not plan to tell him. He should be unaware and therefore unaffected by the bond. I will seek out a healer and have the bond removed next time I am on Vulcan."
"And never tell him? Spock, he risked his life for you there and elsewhere as you have for him."
"And you for us, Leonard."
"Yes, well, but this is different. You and he have always been close, is this not just an extension of that?"
"No, it is not." Spock let some amusement show, wondering where McCoy was heading.
"He would want to know, Spock."
"It would be awkward. He is human, he did not choose this, he is not culturally attuned to it, it is of no use to him, or to me for the foregoing reasons. The merit in this situation is that he is unaware of it. Therefore, he will not notice its lack when the bond is dissolved."
"So you're sayin' he doesn't know what he's missin'." Spock nodded, McCoy continued, "I think it's a bad idea. I think if I figured it out that he'll figure it out and then there'll be hell to pay."
"The difference being that you have more intimate knowledge of me that he does."
McCoy gave his lover a long hard look: "Jim's knowledge of you might be more intimate than you give him credit for, Spock."
Spock raised his eyebrows to indicate that he dismissed McCoy's last statement and had completely lost interest in this conversation.
McCoy was too tired to wrestle the point anymore. He rose: "Well, I'm sure you know best." He smiled, "I am glad you lived through it, however you did, however it works out." Spock rose and moved toward him. "It's late so I'll leave you. Will I see you tomorrow?" Tomorrow being their usual afternoon and evening.
"Yes. You could also 'see' me now." Spock's voice was low and inviting.
McCoy hesitated, wanting to be convinced. Spock moved closer and leaned in to nuzzle McCoy's left ear, knowing full well this drove the doctor wild.
On the contrary, McCoy tensed and Spock stepped back to look at him. McCoy was a mixture of fear, relief, love, anger, and other emotions he could not classify from his limited experience. Strangest of all, McCoy suddenly flung himself into the Vulcan's arms and buried his face in his neck. He was shaking and Spock held him in a comforting embrace.
"Leonard?"
McCoy exhaled: "I have never been so frightened in my life, Spock, watching you trying to kill Jim and being so helpless." It all came out in a rush.
"It was rather distressing for me as well, Leonard, to think that I had killed my CO." He patted McCoy comfortingly and was pleased to feel the doctor laughing.
"I shall never forget the look on your face when Jim came out of my office," He laughed, smiling at Spock, all his emotional turmoil dispersed, relaxing into the Vulcan arms that held him.
"I am pleased to have afforded you some amusement, Doctor." Spock's tone was so serious he could only be joking.
McCoy tilted his head back a little more, as if in challenge. Spock leaned forward and kissed him, holding him tight, thrusting his tongue into the doctor's mouth.
McCoy was surprised by Spock's forcefulness and resisted a little. This seemed only to enflame the Vulcan more. McCoy found himself slung over Spock's shoulder and being carted to the Vulcan's bed.
"Hey, Spock, honey," he drawled nervously, "slow down, we have all night."
He was dumped in a heap on the bed and Spock stood over him, looking down at him. McCoy was taken aback by what he saw in his lover's eyes: the same madness he'd seen on Vulcan. He started to inch away.
"Undress." Spock's voice was like steel.
McCoy hesitated, thinking, if he can speak, maybe I can reason with him. Spock's response was to reach down and rip the doctor's tunic off him. McCoy struggled briefly but gave up when he found himself pinned to the bed with one Vulcan hand while the other ripped off his pants and boots.
Spock leaned back to fling off his robe. He was naked and completely aroused.
"Spock..." McCoy began.
"Shh." Spock rolled McCoy over on his belly like a doll and held him there as he reached into the beside table to the lubricant. He seemed oblivious to McCoy's trepidation and lack of arousal. He pulled himself together: "Leonard, there is a sexual release in Pon Farr that I was unable to experience on Vulcan. I was hoping that the urgency of it would pass in a few days but that seems not to be the case." He was panting.
'Obviously,' McCoy thought as slippery fingers probed his anus, stretching and preparing him for intercourse. McCoy tried to relax and dearly hoped this wasn't going to be too rough. He could tell that Spock was not his usual controlled, pleasure seeking self. This was the most desperate he'd ever seen the Vulcan.
Spock spread McCoy's cheeks and positioned his cock at the tight ring, gathering himself so as not to plunge all the way in. McCoy was still, waiting, trying to be calm. Spock inhaled, summoning all his control, and pushed past the tight opening and stopped. McCoy exhaled, knowing he was not going to be torn apart, just fucked really hard.
Which is exactly what happened. Spock threw his head back with a groan and slid all the way in, resting his entire weight on McCoy. He then slammed into the doctor half a dozen times before cuming with a strangled cry and collapsing on McCoy, who lay, more annoyed than hurt, beneath him.
McCoy, in spite of everything, was half hard from Spock's rough tumble. 'Wham Grr, thank you, sir,' he thought wryly.
Spock grunted ('unusual,' McCoy thought) and rolled them onto their sides. He stroked down McCoy's chest to his flank and to his half erect penis. He closed his warm hand over the head gently and stroked up and down the hardening shaft until he could feel his lover squirming with pleasure against him. He increased his pace and brought the doctor to an efficient climax, one that left McCoy gasping and trembling.
Spock relaxed, at last, against his lover and let his penis slip out. He was half asleep; McCoy was not.
"Spock! What the hell was that about?" McCoy rolled over to face him.
"Ummm," Spock cuddled up on McCoy's shoulder and went to sleep. McCoy realized it would be futile to try to wake him in this condition. There would be time enough to discuss it later.
'Maybe I like it a little rough,' he thought, catching sight of the rags that had been his uniform. 'Well, maybe not that rough.' He'd be a little sore tomorrow but he'd let Spock make it up to him, somehow.
'Is it always going to be like this from now on?' he suddenly wondered.
Spock opened his eyes and held McCoy a little tighter. He looked up into troubled blue eyes: "I apologize. Are you damaged?"
"No, I'm all right."
"Shall I examine..."
"No, thanks," he kissed the concerned Vulcan. "I'm sore but no serious damage. You were very controlled in your out of controlledness."
Spock looked puzzled. McCoy asked: "Will it always be this rough? Now that you've been in Pon Farr?"
"That was the last of Pon Farr, Leonard. I did not find sexual release until just now, with you."
"You might have warned me."
"Again, I apologize, I did not realize how deep my need was until I was consumed by it."
He looked contrite; it was irresistible to McCoy.
"I guess I'll live," he pulled the Vulcan close and stroked his silky onyx hair. "Go to sleep, Spock, it's late." <> They drifted off. The next morning Spock lent McCoy a uniform and that evening they were back to normal.
McCoy was still troubled that Spock would not tell Jim of the bond but could not think up any convincing arguments to change his mind. Eventually he gave up trying and ignored the whole situation until it began to directly affect him.
Hobie sat with his bridge crew on the Ling watching Spock's Vulcan wedding deteriorate into tragedy in one corner of the view screen. He was trying not to be too happy about it because Maja, Jir and Ling were watching him, it and each other from the other three corners.
"Well, this is awful, Ling, how do you come to have such an awful thing?" Hobie was trying to hide his elation at Spock's downfall.
"Maja told me to get it from Vulcan." He looked at his brother. "It turns out to be all the old families can talk about these days." Ling was not elated. He was horrified by T'Pring's actions.
"I knew KirkaFara was stupid, but not that stupid." Jir put in. "To accept a challenge not knowing a thing about it is the most incredibly stupid thing I've seen in a long time."
Maja Talljet was silent.
Ling: "The Sa's think T'Pau's gone over the edge."
Hobie: "How so?"
Ling: "They say that this is the worst possible interpretation of the Surakian code and should not be allowed. The Kalifee is only to be invoked when the husband is judged unfit to breed. Not because the wife doesn't like the way he wears his hair."
Jir: "The Vulcan family lawyers would agree with you."
Maja was silent.
Ling: "Well, I tell you one thing, lads, T'Pring and T'Pau – they're right off the A list."
Hobie: "They were never on my A list."
Jir: "Nor mine."
Hobie: "But I wonder why she did it?"
Ling: "To marry Stonn."
Jir: "Which one?"
Ling: "The one that lived on her father's estate."
Shocked silence.
Jir: "The gardener's son, Stonn? That Stonn?"
Ling nodded.
Hobie: "Poor Stonn. She had him on a leash when we knew them, I can't imagine what she'll do to him now."
"Perhaps she'll calm down and treat him right now that Spock is out of the way." Maja was stony with all this gossip, but wanted to know: "Where the fuck were his parents while their only child was being sacrificed to the cruel Surakian gods of logic?"
Ling: "Sarek still considers him outcast for joining Star Fleet. I also hear Sarek is ill."
"Has he no mother to protect him from the Vulcans?"
Jir: "Maja, be fair, what could Lady Amanda have done?"
"Been there."
Hobie: "What, and been as weak and useless a Terran as ever?"
Jir rolled his eyes, Maja and Hobie had some grudge against Amanda that he and Ling did not share, understand or even want to know about.
"Let us thank the unknowable mercy of the mind of god that Dr. McCoy is not such a weak and useless Terran."
The brothers silently gave varying degrees of thanks for Leonard McCoy and his hypospray.
"And let us thank god that at least someone loves Spock enough to save him for once."
Ling: "We loved him, Nolo."
"And we failed him."
Hobie: "Maja!"
"We were not enough for him to want to stay with us."
Jir: "Maja, please."
"And he chose exile and unhappiness named Vulcan duty because we were not enough."
Hobie: "Noli."
"Because I was not enough."
Ling: "Oh, Maja."
"And he is so fucking stupid I can't even imagine how he finds his way out of bed in the morning."
His brothers exhaled in relief.
"What was he thinking taking those humans to Vulcan? Did it never occur to him that T'Pring might just reject him after milking him for the bride price?"
Ling was tapping into his computer, he whistled appreciatively: "That girl twisted some change out of him. He's been paying into her account for years."
Hobie: "How'd you know this, Maja?"
"I saw it in Spock's mind once. I remember thinking no one would ever pay so much for me."
Jir: "No, they only lay Empires and Religions at your feet."
"She would have been smarter to marry the VulCheq and kept Stonn on the side. At least the money would have kept coming in."
Ling: "True enough. Her family is very hard up these days. Been so a long time."
Hobie: "Perhaps she had a point to make."
Jir: "Such as?"
Hobie: "That she was not willing to throw herself away on Spock." He watched carefully for Maja's reaction.
"Perhaps," Maja almost snarled. "However, was it necessary to try to kill him? Or worse, to let him rot in prison for killing his Captain and his friend."
Hobie: "How do you know this, Maja?"
"I can feel it in Spock's mind."
There was another shocked silence.
Jir: "After all these years you're still linked to him."
"Just a little and only when he is under extreme emotional stress."
Ling: "That's how you knew about the Kalifee before I did."
Maja nodded.
"What now?" Hobie asked.
"Nothing." Maja shrugged, "Hochofedra. Godspeed to him and us on our separate paths. I hope he finds peace and happiness but I doubt it. I've lost the contact but the last feeling in his mind was something about having everything he wanted. I do hope his reach does not exceed his grasp. It felt as if everything he wanted was perhaps more than he could handle but I don't know what or how." He inhaled, "And I don't care. It's done, he's free of Vulcan, he got the smartest human in the galaxy in his bed and his heart – let us hope he has the sense to keep him, and he has all of Star Fleet and the Federation as his oyster. Godspeed. Live long and prosper."
"Indeed, Maja, indeed." Hobie was impressed by his Noli's good, if somewhat ruthless, sense.
They bid each other farewell and promised to meet soon on Rovirin. Jir returned to the Sultan, Ling to his business and Hobie to his fleet.
Maja raised his shields. He looked down at his tattooed hands and gave into one last twinge of regret over losing SpockDeVulCheq so many years ago.
'Oh, how I loved him and I didn't even know what it was. Can't I ever love anyone else like that? Nothing compares; nothing at all. And he did not love me. And he did not love me.'
He looked at his hands again, squared his shoulders, put the past firmly behind him and became, once again, Master Ghet of the Klingon Empire.
A very busy man, Master Ghet, he returned to his sculpture and gave it his entire attention.
So thorough was his discipline, he didn't give SpockDeVulCheq any further thought until events conspired to overwhelm even his best intentions.
Kirk lay on his bed, tired after a long day and a hard won chess game with Spock. He faintly wondered how Spock could have the energy to continue his scientific discussions with Bones after such a battle but perhaps there were wells of Vulcan strength he was unaware of.
He felt very mellow (a small victory brandy) and vaguely aroused. This was not unusual, he was often vaguely aroused in the long stretches between shore leaves. He did feel that there was something unusual about this arousal, as if he were on the brink of some erotic discovery. Pleasant as that might be, he decided a cool shower and a good night's sleep would solve everything.
In his own quarters, Spock had just finished stripping McCoy and was running his hands and tongue over as much of the doctor as he could reach. He felt extra aroused and McCoy's cool sweet skin felt and tasted especially delicious to him.
McCoy was definitely warming up. He'd found a distracted Vulcan when he'd arrived chez Spock and had wondered what was up. The Vulcan seemed to be mulling something over as he blandly kissed his doctor. After a moment he snapped out of it, whatever it was, and the kiss became quite emphatic, on both sides.
Spock had been distracted. He'd been puzzling over the lost chess game and replaying the last eighteen moves in his head. He found this difficult as his thoughts strayed to the vision of Jim's hand on a chess piece or Jim's lips as he sipped from his coffee. His concentration had been normal during the game, why was it now wandering off the subject? He'd then had an extremely odd thought: how would Jim's hands and lips look and feel if he, not Spock, were now kissing Leonard? How would the doctor feel to a member of his own species? This speculation enflamed the Vulcan and he made short work of getting McCoy out of his clothes and onto the bed.
Kirk's shower did not have the hoped for effect. He found himself letting the water play over his lips and had an intense desire to kiss someone for a long, long time. He was still half erect as he toweled off.
He considered working but the desire to lay down and masturbate was too great. This urgency made him feel like a teenager again.
'Oh well,' he thought, 'no one needs to know.' He got comfortable on his bed and began to fondle his arching cock while fantasizing a long passionate kiss with an unseen lover whose strong arms returned his embrace.
Strong arms? Well, he did like strong women. Was it a woman? Of course it was a woman, probably an alien woman with strong arms.
And thick brown hair and languid blue eyes. (!)
Spock, naked, writhing on top of an equally naked, writhing McCoy pulled back from the intense kiss, ostensibly to catch his breath but really to trace the half sensed extra something he was feeling. To cover his confusion he kissed a trail to McCoy's nipple and closed his lips around the hard nub. This elicited a groan and arch.
This was pleasing. Spock felt inspired to vary his caress by flicking the tip of his tongue just at the end of the nipple; teasing it higher. McCoy shivered and undulated against him.
Just flicking the tip of his tongue against a rock hard nipple was one of Kirk's favorite things. Drove women wild, even flat chested ones like this one in his fantasy.
He'd ignored the earlier moment of confusion (panic was too strong a word), intense arousal had swept aside all considerations of brown hair and blue eyes. Although he'd known and loved women with brown hair and blue eyes he didn't feel it was of them he was thinking. So he ignored it in favor of the bead of moisture on the tip of his cock. He put his full attention on the bead of moisture on the tip of his 'dreamgirl's' cock. (!!)
Spock was licking the bead of moisture off the tip of McCoy's cock when the bolt of Jim's panic jolted through him and he finally realized that the link was open. He was glad his teeth had not been on sensitive flesh.
He buried his face in Leonard's flank and was very still, listening for Jim, who was also very still.
He stroked Leonard with his hand, hoping to hide his confusion from his lover. He was also hoping that Jim would somehow perceive the strokes to be his own hand on his own cock and therefore still believe he was having a fantasy as opposed to what was really the case: that he was in bed, telepathically, with Spock and McCoy.
Spock was shocked to the core when he felt, in Jim's fantasy, Jim's tongue circle around the fantasy cock. It was so compelling an image/sensation that Spock could do nothing but imitate it, doubling and redoubling the erotic sensation between them and driving McCoy completely wild.
'Whatever's gotten into Spock tonight has got to stay! He's inspired and inspirational tonight!' McCoy thought ecstatically.
'Okay, so in this fantasy I'm giving a blow job and I'm loving it. So, in that case, I'll do all the things I like and that will get me off,' Kirk's rational mind was hunting for any reason for his body to be so turned on.
'This is wild,' he thought, swallowing the hard pink fantasy cock, sweet and salty taste, hot musky scent.
Feeling his 'dreamman' writhe with pleasure beneath his mouth, Kirk arched and slowed his strokes on his own cock.
'Let's see just how far this new train of thought goes.'
Spock had tried to encourage Kirk's orgasm but couldn't really make him come without revealing himself. He had also had a flash of what Kirk now wanted to do. Or was it Kirk having a flash of what Spock wanted to do?
McCoy knew what he wanted to have done next: "Fuck me right now," he commanded breathily.
How could Spock really refuse? It was what everybody concerned wanted and badly.
/Fuck me right now/ Kirk heard his old friend Leonard McCoy say clear as day in his head. He froze in the shock of recognition.
'Nah,' he thought. 'Yeah?'
Spock felt Kirk freeze and so to give that human a moment to recover and to tease this human a little more, he decided to suck on the rosy head of McCoy's cock a little longer. He even made little slurping noises which caused McCoy to groan with pleasure.
'What a beautiful sound,' Kirk managed to think through his discombobulation, 'I want to hear it again.'
While Spock considered he slurped the cock again so Jim could hear Leonard's pleasured groan. 'Ah. How nice for all of us.' And he decided that if the idea of penetrating Leonard in what Jim thought was a fantasy was too much for him, he could simply pick up another train of thought. The only thing keeping Jim here telepathically was his intense desire to be here after he had stumbled in.
'Or,' Spock thought (slurp-groan-ah!), 'did I open the link by thinking about the chess game while kissing Leonard?' (wimper-slurp-groan-ah!) 'I have no erotic feelings for Jim but I am very much enjoying his erotic reaction to Leonard's erotic reaction to ..'(slurp-groan-ah! /fuck me!/).
'I will, I want to, Kirk was panting mentally, 'what do I...?'
Spock crouched between McCoy's legs which McCoy pulled up to his chest to give Spock better access to the anatomy he sought.
McCoy was more wanton and lustful than Spock had seen him since the early part of their romance. That, in itself, was terribly exciting but the Vulcan also had Jim, wanton, lustful and extremely curious, with him, too.
He slipped in two fingers and wiggled them around to stretch McCoy for penetration. Jim had recoiled from this at first but now seemed to be extremely interested in it. Kirk was even more interested when Spock stroked McCoy's prostate and the response that action elicited from the doctor.
Spock removed his fingers, gathered McCoy into his arms and gave him a deep, sweet kiss, waiting for Jim to decide how he wanted Spock, his agent, to fuck McCoy, the object of his desire.
Kirk relaxed a little.
'He needs to be well lubed so I don't hurt him,' he mused, 'and now that he is....'
In his fantasy he breaks off his kiss and leans back. Slipping his hands under Bones' knees he gently drapes, first one then the other leg, over his shoulders. He feels McCoy inch toward him in anticipation.
'You're going to love this, Bones,' he thinks huskily.
He rolls the object of his desire a bit forward and centers his slippery cock at the entrance of his old friend's body.
/yes yes/ McCoy sighs beneath him.
'Yes.' He presses in gently, hears McCoy's groan, feels him arching for deeper contact. He would like to plunge in but feels constrained to move slowly so as not to hurt his lover.
Slipping into the tight heat millimeter by millimeter (stroke, stroke, stroke), he looks into his lover's blue eyes. So much love there, so much passion.
'How have I never conjured this up before?,' he thinks, 'it's delightful.'
He hit bottom and could feel McCoy swooning with pleasure beneath him.
'Yes,' Spock thought, 'very delightful.'
He began to pump Leonard slowly, finding the angle that put the most pressure on his lover's prostate and attentively watched his face contort with sexual pleasure.
"Yes, yes," McCoy panted, "harder, faster."
/yes, yes, harder, faster/ (stroke, STRoke, STROKE)
Spock was all sensation now, within and without. He fucked McCoy with long hard strokes in rhythm with Jim's hand on Jim's cock.
Faster, harder, deeper, longer.
McCoy was thrusting against the Vulcan in the same rhythm. Panting, whimpering, ready to die or kill for the incipient orgasm looming just over him. And then it was upon him, he arched, thrashing against Spock, clenching fiercely around the hard Vulcan cock inside him.
Spock slammed into him once more and came.
Kirk, writhing with the sensation of strong fantasy muscles clenching on his fantasy cock, slammed both hands up and down his cock once and came all over his chest and belly.
All three fought for consciousness and lay panting and spent.
Spock moved McCoy's legs off his shoulders and lay his head on the doctor's heaving chest to catch his breath. He lay listening to McCoy's heartbeat and listening for Jim's next thought.
Kirk sighed with pleasure, rolled over and went to sleep.
"That was incredible, Spock," McCoy murmured when he could.
"Ummmmm." Spock affirmed, not moving, rather wishing he, too, could just roll over and go to sleep.
McCoy stroked his soft hair and pinched an earlobe: "C'mon, lover, let me up before you conk out."
Spock exhaled and rolled off McCoy and onto his back. He felt floppy, like he hadn't a bone left in his body.
The doctor rose and disappeared into the bathroom. Spock did not look up but heard water running.
Having rinsed himself off, McCoy returned with a warm wet cloth and proceeded to bathe Spock, who, if anything, got even floppier. He fell asleep.
McCoy covered him with a blanket and smoothed his hair. He sat for a moment looking down at his sleeping lover and wanted this moment to last forever.
The damp, cooling cloth brought him back to reality. He hung it in the shower to dry, dressed, twitched the covers a little higher on the comatose Vulcan and went to his quarters to pass out in his own bed.
No other events of note were recorded that night.
Kirk eventually came to terms with the newfound guilty pleasure his fantasies of fucking and sucking Bones brought him. He would have liked to have confided his concerns about it to someone but the only person he might have done so to was the very object of his desire. So he learned to live with it and even decided to enjoy it.
'After all,' he reasoned. 'It's only a fantasy and it will probably go away the next time we hit a port where I can get seriously laid.'
At the next port he got seriously laid four times and felt at peace with the universe.
For a while.
Until he realized that it was more than fantasy sex with his CMO.
Until he realized he was in love with his CMO.
McCoy was completely oblivious to all this. He was perfectly happy tumbling into bed with Spock once or twice a week and enjoyed the new level of erotic intensity they'd lately achieved.
He also felt loved more cosmically by Spock since the Pon Farr. Cosmically was as close has he could come to describing it. He felt cherished as usual by the Vulcan but he also felt love that seemed to come not from Spock but through him. He did not care as long as it was wonderful.
The doctor occasionally had a guilty thought that he knew about the accidental bonding and Jim did not. 'This must be how the secret lover feels about the lawful spouse,' he mused. But he pushed it away. There was nothing he could do to get Spock to tell Jim about the bond. Spock was particularly immovable on the subject so McCoy dropped it and simply enjoyed their harmonious relationship.
He had his work, his lover, his friend - who could ask for more?
Spock was enjoying McCoy's happiness more than he let on to his lover. He was, however, extra attentive to the doctor's moods and did what he could to lighten them when they grew dark. A caress, a compliment, a question about his research would take McCoy's mind off whatever was troubling it.
He found himself being so attentive because Jim was more sensitive to McCoy's moods than Spock had previously realized. Perhaps due to the fact of their long friendship, Spock often observed Kirk thinking of ways to amuse or tease the doctor.
Spock was as close to enchanted with his existence as he ever allowed himself to be. He truly enjoyed seeing his lover charmed by his bondmate and the pleasure that provoked in all three of them.
Bondmate. Yes, well, one should call things what they are until they can be changed.
The link between Kirk and Spock was providing all three with a great deal of sexual pleasure. For Kirk it was the wicked pleasure of intense and forbidden fantasy. For McCoy the feeling of being deeply loved (he was anyway, it was just very subtle). For Spock it was the triple sensation of Kirk, McCoy's and his own pleasure, pleasuring and being pleasured.
Gradually, however, he began to feel a shift in Kirk's emotional energy toward McCoy, it took on a more intense and determined cast. It reminded Spock of Jim when he went after a prize with his heart and soul.
'If he wants Leonard,' Spock thought seriously, 'would I be able to deny him?'
The Vulcan did not know and did not want to find out.
Loegeria 9 was an extremely pleasant type M planet with a sophisticated enough culture to be a trading partner with other planets in its system. Still non-aligned, it had not yet decided to join the Federation or the Klingons and for once neither side was pressuring. Let the Loegerians be non-aligned as long as they sell us their sweet, tangy fruits, crusty breads, tart ciders and elegant wines was the general feeling in the quadrant.
Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) Loegerian products did not travel long distances well. This fact had allowed Loegeria to avoid industrial farming and thereby maintain its eco balance. A fate other planets with good food had not escaped. So it was necessary to actually go there to get any of it. Which is exactly what Kirk decided to do for his crew when he realized they could go, eat, shop and still make their rendezvous with the USS Aubrey. Commodore Maturin would certainly not say no to a bottle or two of Loegerian fume blanc and a basket of tolmias (sweet sticky juicy golden pear-like fruit that should be eaten with wine and near running water).
"Let's go!" he cried to his navigator and they were off. Delighted smiles throughout the ship.
McCoy, being very busy with an experiment on bacteria sampled on a type L planet (hydrogen environment and dense gravity field), could not take the time to beam down and shop for himself. He did, however, give Christine the entire day off, his credit chip and shopping list and told her not to come back without everything on the list.
She laughed at him. He liked it when Christine Chapel laughed at him. And of course she came back with everything he wanted and at the best price she could get, too, except for one thing.
Later that evening, as the Enterprise sped toward the Aubery, Captain Kirk invited Dr. McCoy to his quarters for some Loegerian brandy (mild tasting but very strong) and mragleans (like tolmias but with denser flesh and small seeds instead of a pit). Kirk knew that McCoy liked mragleans very much and hadn't got any because the vendor sold the last to Kirk himself. Kirk knew this because McCoy was complaining about it over dinner.
"Well, come to my quarters, I have some, I'll share them with you," 'sounds innocent enough,' he thought, 'not like I'm trying to lure him into my den.'
Spock had given Kirk a thoughtful look as if he had heard his mental aside.
"I," McCoy declared, "would be delighted."
Spock seemed deep in thought as he excused himself to return to his lab. It was known that he cared for neither Loegerian brandy nor mragleans.
He did, however, care for his bondmate and his lover and he was not unaware of the aggressive shift in Kirk's attitude toward McCoy. He hoped Kirk would not force himself on McCoy. He doubted it but found it necessary to acknowledge the possibility. Kirk felt passion for McCoy; Spock recognized it within himself but where Spock's passion for McCoy was an ember; Kirk's had become an inferno.
'And if Jim does attack Leonard,' he wondered, 'what then? Rely on McCoy to fight off a superior warrior? Go to his rescue, somehow? Hope McCoy can recall Kirk to his senses?
'And if Jim uses his powerful seductive charms will Leonard be able to resist? And if he yields? What then? Kirk would never share him so must I lose both?'
So, pushing aside these troubling thoughts, he quietly opened the link and felt Jim's arousal as he poured McCoy yet another large brandy.
'Leonard, Leonard.' He could tell that the wine was doing its job too well; McCoy's defenses weren't just down, they were on vacation.
'Have some Madeira, my dear,' Kirk hummed the ancient wicked lyrics in his head, pouring a little more brandy for the very mellow doctor.
He sliced up a mraglean and pushed the plate of glistening flesh toward McCoy.
Kirk was reminded of a child having a favorite treat, so great was McCoy' pleasure as he brought the succulent fruit to his mouth.
"Most kind of you to invite me, Jim," he drawled charmingly, licking his lips, sending a jolt of desire though Kirk (and Spock as well, for that matter).
"Anything for you, Bones," Kirk murmured seductively. (Spock noticed; McCoy did not.)
"Brilliant to make a Loegeria run. I do get so tired of replicated food after awhile." McCoy looked around for a napkin; finding none he started to lick the mraglean juice off his fingers.
Kirk simply stopped breathing (so did Spock) in the face of the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life. He threw caution to the wind and reached for McCoy's wrist. (Spock's hands froze over his computer keyboard.) Looking deeply into the startled blue eyes (rather bloodshot, Spock noted), he sucked McCoy's index finger into his mouth and licked it clean of mraglean juice. He was half way through the same process with the middle finger before his stunned guest could manage to comment.
"Um, Jim," McCoy began, realizing just how drunk he was and how sober Jim was and finding those facts rather alarming. P> "I'm such a bad host, Bones." He was playing his tongue up and down McCoy's ring finger. "Not to have any napkins on the table. What a barbarian." (Spock and McCoy were feverently hoping not.)
He smiled wickedly as he devoured the little finger, running his teeth along it, up and down.
McCoy smiled politely, wondering just how he had ever come to this point and gently pulled his hand away from Jim's lips. It was gently but firmly pulled back, as if to demonstrate the differences in their strengths and temperaments.
Kirk was bent on a conquest; McCoy had seen it often over the years but never directed at him personally. He felt like a rabbit faced with a python.
Kirk pulled McCoy's hand a little closer.
"Leonard..." he began.
"You never call me Leonard, Jim," McCoy stated.
"May I?"
"No."
Kirk was momentarily taken aback; Spock elated; McCoy felt he had some ground under him. Then he felt the deck under him as Kirk pulled him out of his chair and onto the carpet.
"Then I won't," he murmured, settling his body full-length atop McCoy's.
He could feel McCoy trembling beneath him as he nuzzled his neck, ear and ran his fingers through the thick brown hair.
"Jim, stop."
Jim ignored this, playing his lips over McCoy's, feeling the trembling increase, knowing victory was at hand. He thought of his careful preparations: lubricant within easy reach ...
"Jim, please." More trembling. (Spock mentally wrung his hands.)
Jim ignored this, too, and returned to his kissing and his inventory: a towel under the pillow, some soft music .... He forced open McCoy's mouth in a demanding kiss and tightened his embrace, ignoring, also, the hands helplessly clenched against his shoulders. He spread McCoy's legs with his own, wishing they were naked, and ground his erection into the doctor's groin. He could feel the tension, resistance, and the lack of arousal in McCoy but he assumed the doctor would catch up eventually or next time or something. McCoy freed his mouth, Kirk descended to his throat.
"Captain Kirk, SIR." Firmly and coldly, it was more than Kirk could ignore. He went limp, all except his cock, against McCoy and dragged himself back under control.
He sighed against the object of his desire: so close, so close. He lifted his head to look at McCoy and then bent his neck to kiss him.
"JIM." McCoy was now in control of the situation and knew it.
Kirk rolled off him and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, willing his erection to abate. 'Down, boy, down.'
McCoy sat up, dizzy, and looked down at his old friend. "Now what," he carefully enunciated. "In the flying hell was that all about?"
A cooled off Kirk looked up and decided to lay all his cards on the table: "I'm madly in love with you. All I do is fantasize about making love to you. I want to hold you naked in my arms and feel you come and suck you until you beg..."
"Captain Kirk." McCoy cut in firmly, he could see Jim was getting carried away.
Kirk sat up and flashed McCoy a penitent smile under lowered lashes.
'How am I resisting this? I musta become a saint this afternoon,' McCoy thought dryly. "There is nothing in your psych profile that would ever lead me to conclude that you would want to have sex with me, Jim," he said clinically.
"It was a shock for me, too. I never thought I'd want to throw you on my bed, rip your clothes off and fuck you real hard, either."
(Spock went very still.)
McCoy was very still, remembering that that had happened not so long ago in Spock's quarters.
"Sorry." Kirk noticed McCoy had turned to stone and was sorry he shocked him.
"It's okay," the doctor muttered. "When did these fantasizes begin?"
"About five or six weeks ago."
'After Vulcan,' McCoy thought, stunned. There was suddenly a certain Vulcan he wanted to talk to very badly.
McCoy got to his feet and gave his Captain a hand up.
"Come see me in sickbay tomorrow, when I'm sober, and we'll talk some more."
Kirk was relieved that McCoy was so calm.
"Bones, I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
"I know." He smiled and on impulse gave the surprised Kirk a bearhug.
Kirk hugged him back, thinking pure thoughts and watched him leave his quarters.
'Now that's a friend,' he thought recorking the brandy.
"You have got to tell him."
"You are hysterical, Doctor." They were standing in Spock's deserted lab and it was very late.
"I am not hysterical, Spock," McCoy said patiently, "just very very very upset."
"You are also overreacting."
"I've just been jumped by Jim Kirk, one of my oldest friends. I find my reaction to be right on." McCoy was starting to lose his patience with the Vulcan's infuriating calm.
Spock was silent, not wishing to let on that he knew exactly what had happened and had failed to come to McCoy's rescue. He steepled his fingers over his lab bench and gazed at McCoy in what he hoped was a sympathetic manner.
McCoy was unmollified: "I don't know how it works with Vulcans but I think what's happening to Jim is he is feeling your, um, sexual desire for me through the bond, somehow, and he doesn't know it's not his own desire."
He waited to see if Spock was going to deny this but the Vulcan remained silent. McCoy continued: "It is not only unfair, it is unkind to let him keep thinking this way, Spock. It's causing a great deal of turmoil for him and now for me, too." 'But obviously not for you, you stubborn, callous, fucking Vulcan.' McCoy was starting to lose his temper.
Spock was thinking that Jim was feeling a little more than just desire through the bond but merely said: 'I shall take your concerns under serious consideration."
"SPOCK."
"Dr. McCoy," he said firmly, "I am not unaware of your distress, the Captain's confusion and I will give serious thought as to how to best proceed."
McCoy could be firm too: "If I feel that this situation becomes out of control, Mr. Spock, I shall request a transfer." 'And you can go straight to hell,' he finished mentally.
Spock lowered his eyes and McCoy felt like a jerk.
"You must, of course," Spock said calmly, raising his eyes, "do as you consider best, Doctor."
McCoy felt like a jerk squared. He spun and marched toward the door.
"Leonard." A caress.
McCoy stopped but did not turn.
"Are you all right?" Spock asked gently.
"Aside from hysterically overreacting to Captain Kirk's caveman come on," he inhaled, "I'm okay."
"Would you like me to stay with you tonight?"
McCoy turned. He smiled and relaxed for the first time in hours.
"Thank you, Spock, no. I am tired and just want to sleep. I want to be alone and think for a while, too."
"I understand. Sleep well."
"You, too, Spock. Good night." Good night, good night, and when you dream...
Captain Kirk never found time to go to sickbay and discuss the events of that night with Dr. McCoy. He did, however, refrain from molesting his CMO again (as he promised) and eventually the two friends settled back into their comfortable camaraderie.
Seeing the restoration of harmony between his lover and his bondmate, Spock decided it was unnecessary to tell Jim about the bond. No need to upset him when soon there will be nothing to be upset about, was the Vulcan's conclusion.
He further concluded that there was no harm in leaving the link open during sex with Leonard as long as Kirk's intentions did not become aggressive toward the CMO, which they did not. Having the link open was quite delightful for all three so why spoil it until he could get to Vulcan and have the bond undone.
Kirk continued to enjoy his fantasies and was content that that was all there would be. He felt virtuous in his unrequited lover state. He did occasionally tune out when he didn't like the content of his fantasy, such as when he was being fucked by McCoy (really unthinkable!). But that is the beauty of erotic fantasies: if you don't like the one you're in, you can always just switch to another.
McCoy gave up nagging Spock about Jim and the bond after Spock went on strike and didn't sleep with him for two weeks. Enough, already, a penitent McCoy decided it was not worth the trouble it caused and never broached the subject again.
'Everything is going well,' he prayed, 'let's not rock the boat.'
So they didn't and the mission continued without incidents amongst the three friends for quite a while.
EVENTS AND CONSEQUENCES OF SAREK THE VULCAN'S AMBASSADORIAL MISSION TO ROVIRIN
En route to Rovirin, Sarek considered the wisdom of trying to bring that planet into the Federation. In a Federation High Council vote on Rovirin's initial request for diplomatic ties to the Federation, Terra had abstained in response to political pressure. Nonetheless, the vote had been overwhelmingly in favor of granting the Rovirin government's request for a Federation Consulate and it was Sarek's unenviable mission to negotiate the initial arrangements for this.
Although he had doubts as to the usefulness of a Federation Consulate on this obscure planet, it was not an unpleasant mission for Sarek himself. He had been on Vulcan for over a year recovering from his heart condition and was more than ready for a little travel. Rovirin was also of interest to him. Fluent in the language and interested in things Klingon, he had heard that the Klingon architecture and art on Rovirin were worth seeing. So there was something to look forward to.
Sarek was also hoping to catch a glimpse of Master Ghet. Known also as Gozine the Confessor, he had tremendous influence in the Klingon Empire due to his religious interaction with high ranking Klingons. especially the Hierophant Kroldt, it was known in diplomatic circles that Master Ghet exerted an anti-federation influence on the Hierophant Kroldt and Sarek, an admirer of Master Ghet's art, would like to know why.
The Hierophant was held in high esteem by any beings that had negotiated with him. He was reputed to possess a high degree of intelligence and sense. Kroldt was considered a visionary and the best hope for the future peace and prosperity of the Klingon Empire. This Hierophant was responsible for the new Klingon colonization policy of development as opposed to the old policy of devastation. Through the use of these ideas most Klingon interests in non-aligned space, mainly the Haat's interests, were booming. Sarek looked forward to the day he would meet this remarkable Klingon.
Although it was hard to know what was really going on in the Klingon Empire, intergalactic developments over the past ten years had made it appear that the Hierophant Kroldt was the most powerful man in it. Perhaps the second most powerful since the Hierophant seemed to be under Master Ghet's sway.
He was traveling light, just his assistant Sovort and secretary, Smirek. Lady Amanda had chosen to stay home due to the brevity of the mission; he would be there and back again within 200 Standard hours. Star Fleet had provided the USS Shilo, captained by Maria Norris, as transport. Star Fleet still had some interest in obscure planets in non-aligned space, especially those close to the Autonomous Zones due to their proximity to Romulan space and the close relationship these planets usually had with the local pirates.
Rovirin was rumored to be a base for the Tossarian pirates, led, alas, by Hobie Talljet. Sarek discounted this rumor, he believed that anywhere the Klingons were firmly ensconced, as they were on Rovirin, made it impossible for pirates to be in the area due to Klingon patrols. Especially Hobie; the Klingons had a huge price on his head and Hobie was too intelligent to put himself in harm's way. At least, that was Sarek's opinion.
Reviewing the file, Sarek noted that Rovirin had been fairly backward a mere three years previously. In that time Rovirin had developed a sophisticated manufacturing base, especially in mining and processing dilithium crystals. This was primarily for the Klingons but also for unspecified others. Surprisingly sophisticated financial and legal systems had also grown up alongside the mining operations. Apparently the Rovirians were anxious to protect their new found prosperity. Their leader, Yustala, negotiated with all off worlders himself and Sarek looked forward to meeting him. He was said to be a natural diplomat and had been able to keep peace with the pirates (before they decamped, Sarek assumed), the Klingons and the scores of other traders and workers who flocked to share Rovirin's new wealth and security. Klingons were not always the most welcome guests but whatever arrangement Yustala had with them, the Klingon patrols were definitely keeping the planet safe from attacks by Romulans, pirates and Rovirin's hostile neighbors.
Sarek was aware that not all of Rovirin wanted Federation affiliation as much as Yustala and the most delicate part of his mission was to win over Yustala's opponents. He was aware that one of the main opposers was Yustala's uncle, General Morel.
General Morel was largely responsible for Rovirin's security. He was most famous for defending the planet from invasion by the Nzirisirians. With minor aid from an unknown source, he had repelled the invaders, chasing them back into their space from which they had not ventured since. Also a natural diplomat, Morel had made rock solid alliances in the system, mainly on the force of his personality and sometimes with the force of his very sophisticated fleet. He was a respected leader, a warrior beyond reproach and even had the Klingons' respect. He was therefore not anxious to lose to the Federation the network of alliances he had so carefully built.
This did not concern Sarek. If negotiations with Rovirin came to nothing this year then they would try again next year, or the year after. No one except Yustala was in a hurry and he could be persuaded to wait if necessary.
Sarek closed his file. 'It will not be an onerous task and quickly over,' he thought. 'Yustala will be reassured by my arrival and Morel will be reassured by my departure. Nothing important will be accomplished this time but it will lay foundations for the future. And I will have a look at the marvels the Klingons are building for themselves there.'
"I hesitate sending you two off in the shuttlecraft again after what happened last time." Kirk stood in the dissection lab, addressing Spock and McCoy, who exchanged glances. "But Dr. Styren is most anxious to see you both."
"How long will it take to get there, Spock?" McCoy wanted to know, looking up from the creature he was dissecting.
"Approximately 15.67 hours," Spock looked up from his own creature's innards.
Kirk was eating a cookie while listening to the discussion. He had not made any further advances to McCoy but he was still attracted to him and enjoyed hearing his voice, especially, for some reason, when he talked to Spock.
McCoy looked at Kirk, who was mid cookie: "You want me to spend 15 or so hours in open space in a shuttlecraft, Jim, are you nuts?"
Spock cocked an eyebrow; this was typical of McCoy to be dubious of a perfectly safe situation.
"Not at all, Bones, I have great faith in the equipment and the pilot." 'Wiggle out of that, pal.'
"I have less faith in the equipment than you do, Jim, but if you insist I go, I'll go."
"I don't insist," Kirk said around another cookie, "but Dr. Styren is very impressed by your paper on silicone based life forms and would like to meet you. I'd hate to disappoint him."
'So would I,' thought McCoy. Dr. Styren of the Vulcan Institute was a legend in xenobiology. His work in the Plintes system was some of the hottest research published in the Federation. There could be no other reason for Fleet command to send a starship out of its way and a scientist of Spock's caliber on a simple data collection errand.
McCoy was actually quite flattered that Styren knew his work and wanted to meet him but he had to put up his usual cranky tussle about leaving his lab and sickbay and venturing into vast space in tiny craft, etc.
"And the new shuttlecraft we borrowed from the USS Odalla is rated for long distance, deep space flight, so you'll be perfectly safe."
"Famous last words," McCoy grumbled.
Kirk ignored him: "These are good cookies."
"I'm glad you're enjoying them. I don't think Spock got any before we started cuttin' up these critters." McCoy was very interested in his critter and rather wished Kirk would leave them to it.
"Cookie, Spock?"
Spock raised his gloved hands just enough to show that he was in no condition to feed himself a cookie.
So Kirk simply walked over to him and fed him a cookie. McCoy was amused to watch Spock lean away from the dissection table so Kirk could feed him.
Spock, on the other hand, was suppressing an urge to bite Kirk's fingers. Rather disturbing, he'd been having these odd impulses toward Kirk lately. There was probably a good reason but he had not had time to speculate.
They had all recently been under more stress than usual and they were feeling it. The creatures they were dissecting had killed two crewmen and injured three more collecting samples on Xrellian. There is always a risk on a new planet, however, the autopsies and funerals had not been very pleasant. The three injured crewmen were still recovering in sickbay from the creature's claws and venom.
'It would be nice to go do something simple, like data collection,' thought McCoy. He quickly made a mental review of the injured crewmen's conditions and knew they were out of danger and would be out of sickbay before he and Spock would leave for Plintes 3 and Styren's research station. So he really had no excuse not to go. He was actually looking forward to it.
"So," Kirk was saying, "We'll get you as close as possible, go map sector P846.54 for a week or so and come pick you up."
He offered Spock another cookie, which was declined and continued: "Styren asked Command specifically for you and Spock. It's a great honor, you know. Besides, Plintes 3 is type M, you'll get to breathe fresh air and walk on real ground; you love that."
McCoy scowled at him.
"All right, all right I'll go," he snarled, reaching for a small laser saw. He noticed Kirk make a face.
"Good." Kirk put down the cookie he'd picked up. "Well, I have things to do so I will leave you to your ... work," and left.
McCoy looked up at Spock and smiled: "Dissection is not for everyone, Mr. Spock."
"Indeed, Doctor."
Dr. Styren obliged Sirev as they were both anxious to see Spock after his divorce. A Vulcan divorce is almost unheard of and surviving males even more so. The Kalifee was public knowledge. It is customary to record marriages and, in this case, the battle and its outcome. Unless the privacy seal is invoked the record can be accessed by anyone with access to the Vulcan data archives and an interest. Both had viewed the recording, both knew that T'Pring had been bonded to Stonn the next day and they were curious to hear Spock's side of it.
Vulcans, contrary to their stoic public image in the Federation, privately have a huge appetite for news about their fellow Vulcans. This is more commonly known a gossip in the rest of the galaxy. The research team on Plintes 3 had been away from Vulcan for a long time and were very much looking forward to a long session of "news" with Spock.
They were also looking forward to meeting McCoy whose work in xenobiology was much admired throughout the Federation by this time. He and Spock, in addition to being brilliant scientists, had been, in the course of the five year mission thus far, in the most enviable places in the galaxy to do research. In addition to his contribution to science, McCoy's role in the Kalifee was much discussed by the Vulcans - such deviousness was foreign but fascinating to them and they looked forward to meeting its perpetrator.
Spock was aware of all this from Sirev's letters and he was mulling it over as he packed. It had not occurred to him to invoke the privacy seal on the Kalifee, he was not disturbed by its public knowledge. In fact, it saved a great deal of explaining why he was not now married to T'Pring as he should be. As he had never wanted to be. What it did not explain clearly was why he lived and the most obvious conclusion most frequently drawn over the ensuing months had been that his diluted Vulcan blood had caused Spock to fail, yet again, as a Vulcan. He preferred and even encouraged this speculation.
He had recently, however, had a note from SaGolia of the eccentric Sa family on his birthday (she was one of the few beings that remembered his birthday) which had contained an odd postscript: 'PS. Spock, we Sas have watched the Kalifee over and over and over and don't believe for a nanosecond that your Terran blood saved you. You always out-vulcaned the Vulcans when you were a youth, logically you should be dead. SaMirt reminds us of old legends prior to the Surakian dictatorship that tell of warriors spontaneously bonding in battle, making peace and creating the alliances that were so cruelly crushed in the name of logic in the war of logical aggression by you know who. We all think this is rather farfetched but, then again, so are you and we are rather convinced if such a thing could happen it could only happen to you. We have concluded that you are bonded to Dr. McCoy because a) you were restored to sanity after he pushed you away from the prostrate Captain Kirk, and b) you couldn't possibly be bonded to someone as stupid as Kirk and he is the only other possibility. By the way, my door is always open to you but closed permanently to T'Pring and T'Pau. They are a disgrace to Vulcan womanhood if such a thing is still possible. Save me an Imman.'
Spock had marveled at SaGolia's astuteness and SaMirt's grasp of history. He had researched pre-reform legends and there was an obscure reference to such occurrences. He was directed to an epic poem in old Vulcan that was so dull even in modern translation he'd given up and taken SaMirt's word for it. SaMirt was a renowned Old Vulcan scholar and historian. Spock was also relieved that only the Sas would come to such an incredible and nearly accurate conclusion and that nobody amongst Spock's circle on Vulcan ever took the Sas seriously
'What circle?' he thought, 'my life there is over.'
He picked up a tube of lubricant and tossed it into his bag. Upon a second's reflection, he tossed in another.
McCoy was unaware of Spock's machinations to get them to Plintes 3, he was simply glad to be going off with his lover. He dearly hoped they would find time to be alone and had packed an extra jar of lubricant in that hope.
He was ready for a break from the ship. His relationship with Jim had been back to normal for months but he had noticed a minute change between Jim and Spock. They were more in tune with each other, he'd noticed Spock watching Jim's hands more lately, and Jim had switched their chess games from the rec room to his quarters. McCoy was feeling a little shut out but he dismissed it because sex was better than ever with Spock. He wondered if Spock was reading erotica because the variety of his caresses was awesome
'He is positively inspired in bed these days,' McCoy thought fondly.
McCoy wondered if the bond was affecting Jim and Spock but Spock was so closed on the subject he could never bring himself to broach it. As long as peace and harmony remained among them why spoil it? At least that's how he reasoned.
He closed his bag and went to the shuttle bay where Spock was waiting for him and they set off for Plintes 3.
McCoy had looked up from his reading in surprise when he felt Spock's warm hand on his thigh: "Don't you have to pilot this thing, Spock, perhaps you shouldn't be distracted?"
"Auto pilot." Spock pulled him out of his seat and onto the floor of the craft.
"Oh," McCoy got out before Spock's lips crushed his.
"Are you concerned, Leonard?" Spock broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.
"No." He pulled Spock back down to him.
They undressed each other and squirmed around in the limited space as best they could. They soon discovered a sixty-nine was the best position and applied themselves to some serious cocksucking.
McCoy ran his tongue around the head of Spock's penis, loving his taste and texture. He bobbed up and down as far as he could. By relaxing his throat he could get most of Spock down his throat without gagging. It was an accomplishment he was very proud of.
It was an accomplishment Spock was also very excited by. He played his tongue along the underside and then over the head of McCoy's cock. He fondled his scrotum and nuzzled the soft skin at the base of this cock.
McCoy was enjoying himself. He cupped Spock's ass in his hands and gave it a hard squeeze. He stroked the strong lean thighs and nuzzled his balls, sucking each in turn before returning to the pale green shaft. He sucked noisily on the head until Spock gave him an irritated swat.
The pleasure of the sensation is canceled out by the annoyance of the sound, he was thinking as he massaged McCoy's tingling cheek. He further thought he'd like to come and have a nap and to that end he swallowed the doctor's cock to the root.
Spock had very powerful throat and mouth muscles and soon had McCoy writhing in ecstasy.
"Spock, I can't ..." McCoy panted as he arched and came with a sob.
Spock planted a kiss on the now soft human flesh and moved around to where he was face to face with his lover: "You can't what, Leonard?" He held the shaking human in his arms and kissed him.
"I can't wait," McCoy breathed and rolled Spock on top of him and into a deep kiss.
McCoy broke the kiss and urged Spock's hips up along his body until the Vulcan was straddling his chest. A few more pulls and pushes and he had maneuvered Spock's still hard penis into his mouth.
Spock looked down at his lover and gently slid his cock a little farther into his mouth.
McCoy tilted up to meet him. This looked uncomfortable to Spock so he cradled McCoy's neck in his hands and thrust gently in and out. McCoy stroked the Vulcan's hardness with his tongue, lips and even, ever so gently, his teeth. He ran his hands over the warm hips and ass, wishing there were more room to make love.
Spock would also have liked to have fucked McCoy but contented himself with cumming in his mouth which was also delightful. McCoy sucked him dry and pulled off the still hard flesh, giving the head a last hard lick. Spock shivered with pleasure and rose to check the instruments. He pulled a thermal blanket from a cabinet and lay beside McCoy, covering them.
He pulled McCoy into his arms and pillowed his head on his shoulder, adjusting the blanket around him. He brushed some thick brown hair out of the way and kissed the human's forehead. McCoy snuggled a little closer and dozed peacefully. Spock contemplated at the stars on the viewscreen for a few moments and then dozed off himself.
They arrived on Plintes 3 in time for dinner which was vegetarian, of course.
McCoy's brief nap had not refreshed him and thirteen hours in the shuttlecraft's cramped cabin had taken their toll.
Dr. Styren had noticed his fatigue at dinner and suggested that he go to bed and sent them off with Sirev to show them the way.
Styren asked Spock to come back when he had settled the doctor in bed. McCoy had thought it was strange choice of words but was too tired to analyze it just then.
The research station on Plintes 3 is housed in regulation Star Fleet prefabricated indestructible and extremely ugly structures. Prior to the research station, Plintes 3 had been called Lokka and had been a base for Captain Tossar and his pirates. Captain Tossar's new lover, some said master, Hobie Talljet, seemed to have connections to a Klingon commune and brought artisans to build houses, parks, and plazas on the shore for Tossar's people. Tossar had chosen Lokka for the same reason he'd chosen Hobie, they were both beautiful. Lokka had warm seas and hot springs, abundant fresh water and food that could be picked off the trees. Its animal population was small and none of it interesting to hunt so that was the only drawback in this Pirate utopia.
The settlement the Klingon artisans designed and built was a work of art. Houses scattered as if randomly, separated by the natural flow of the terrain and yet unobtrusively connected by plazas and paths and all in a defensible to ground assault pattern surrounding the pirate's treasure vault. The artisan's engineers built aqueducts and drainage and hinged it all on a renewable solar and hydro energy source. It was so well designed that porch lights lit, water was purified, gardens were irrigated and the clocks kept perfect time even during the resident's long absences. It was a joy to live there and the pirates and their families lived there joyously between raids.
Until the Federation encroached into the quadrant two years ago and Hobie (Tossar was long dead by then), no fool, decided there were other lovely planets to build lovely houses on and Lokka was abandoned. Losing Lokka was yet another brick in Hobie's wall of resentment against the Federation and Star Fleet. Maja was not very happy about it either, the Gozshedrefreingin Commune had built some lovely structures there, now abandoned.
The Vulcan research team, however, were not stupid and moved immediately into the abandoned structures and enjoyed them very much. The houses had lines pleasing to Vulcan sensibilities inside and out, lots of windows overlooking the sea, wide doors opening onto patios and verandahs. The floors were covered with tiles made from indigenous clay and painted in colorful designs, the patios tiled in flagstones. The buildings were constructed from blocks of the local granite and the insides were plastered with a fine layer of cream colored clay that soothed the eye and kept the heat in during the winters.
Neither the pirates nor their treasure had been in residence when the starship transports had arrived but all their household goods were there. The lucky Vulcans inherited thick rugs, soft mattresses, warm blankets, fine linens, luminous porcelains, sparkling crystal, elegant furniture and paintings looted from all over non-aligned space.
The Vulcans closed up all but six of the houses around a plaza facing the sea and lived and worked in them harmoniously. They kept one house for their rare visitors and it was there Sirev led Spock and a sleepy McCoy.
Sirev brought them into the little house and showed them the two bedrooms, the kitchen, the sumptuous bath and the sitting room.
McCoy bid the Vulcans good night and stripped to shower. He felt odd in the spacious shower and looked forward to getting Spock in there with him as soon as possible. He toweled off and fell into the huge soft bed and was instantly asleep.
Spock returned to the Vulcans and accepted a cup of replicated Relan tea and thought wistfully of Jir's fresher brew.
They talked of Dr. Styren's work and related work by other scientists in the same field. Eventually Styren asked, in Vulcan, about Spock's parents.
"My father was ill but now he is well. My mother is also well."
"Why weren't they at your wedding?" Spock had almost forgotten Vulcan bluntness.
"I was still estranged from my father at that time." They were silent for a moment.
"I've known T'Pau for many years," Styren said, "but I cannot understand why she would allow the challenge to proceed with an offworlder."
"I believe she was merely following Vulcan law and tradition." Spock didn't really want to talk about it.
"Vulcan law and tradition only applies to Vulcans, Spock."
Styren continued softly, "Her actions were not only illogical they were cruel. She has caused a furor on Vulcan. The old families are making the most of it. They claim Surakian law, the bonding in childhood and the matriarchy are barbaric and should be swept aside and replaced by personal responsibility or free love or communal living, depending upon whom you talk to."
Spock wasn't comfortable being the focus of a new twist in a two thousand year old feud but what could he do?
Sirev spoke up: "I've had a letter from my grandmother, T'Poldi, she writes that the Ser's strongly disapprove of T'Pring's and T'Pau's actions and have called for T'Pau to step down from the High Council."
"On what grounds?" Spock was shocked, T'Pau had been on the High Council since before he was born.
"On the grounds that her judgment must be severely impaired to have so badly interpreted Surakian law that it became an instrument of cruelty for no better purpose than to humor T'Pring's whim."
"The Sa's, the Si's and the Ser's have all said that if T'Pau is an example of the best of the matriarchy then the matriarchy has run amok and its time is past," Styren put in. He was related to the Ser's by marriage of distant cousins and shared many of their opinions.
"T'Poldi also wrote that she had tea with SaGolia." Sirev's grandmother had interesting friends. "And mentioned that SaGolia had one of her strange dreams. In this dream all the great families of Vulcan went to a dance at the old Sa house, danced Immans and made peace with each other. SaGolia said that in her dream the Sa house was completely restored to how it was when she was a girl."
Which was a long time ago, Spock was thinking, but it explained the last line in her note to him. SaGolia believed her dreams were prophetic and, strangely, sometimes they were.
"She said all four Talljets were there, too, and all was forgiven." Sirev gazed at Spock. They had gone to the Western Vulcan Preparatory Institute together and he had known the Talljets there, too.
Spock raised his eyebrows: "That is quite a dream." The Vulcans nodded. Spock rose: "If you will excuse me, the journey has fatigued me as well so I will say good night."
Styren looked up at him: "Well, good night, Spock." He handed Spock a data wafer. "Here is the data you've come to collect. I give it to you now so you needn't rush out of bed tomorrow to start collecting it."
Spock stared at the wafer. Styren continued: "So that you and Dr. McCoy needn't rush out of bed tomorrow. You and the doctor may visit my lab anytime you wish while you are here but you may do as you please while you are here."
Sirev rose to walk Spock to the guesthouse.
Once out of earshot, Spock stopped and looked Sirev in the eye: "What does all this mean, Sirev?"
"Specify."
"The data collected in advance and the reference to not rushing out of bed."
"SaGolia has a theory that a bonding took place between you and Dr. McCoy in the Kalifee. She shared this theory with T'Poldi. T'Poldi mentioned it to her cousin, SerNevri, who mentioned it to Dr. Styren, his cousin-in-law. Your communication to me that it would be beneficial for you both to visit Plintes 3 has added to that speculation."
"I see." Spock clasped his hands behind his back to hide his irritation.
"Spock, Plintes 3 is a long way from Vulcan, it has taken over a year for the news to get this far and only because the Ser's are such a tight knit family did Dr. Styren hear about it. I heard about it from my grandmother, T'Poldi. I'm sure no one outside the old families knows about it or is interested in it. By now it's such old news, probably no one on Vulcan is talking about it anymore."
"And the other scientists here?"
"We all wish you and Dr. McCoy peace and long life, Spock."
Spock merely looked at him. Sirev continued: "The practice of keeping a male concubine is not unknown among Vulcans."
Spock sighed mentally.
"I hardly consider Dr. McCoy a concubine, Sirev."
"I mean no disrespect, Spock. Dr. McCoy's work in xenobiology is widely held in high esteem. I had considered his scientific ability to be a main factor in your attraction to him, in addition to whatever else is between you."
Spock was silently considering that eventually the five year mission would end and he would wish to make his relationship with McCoy public and probably official. He was not entirely dismayed that this group of respected Vulcan scientists were supportive of it already. It might cushion the blow of telling his family to have the support of one as well thought of as Dr. Styren.
Spock bid him good night and walked to the guesthouse where, seeing McCoy sleeping peacefully, he stripped and took a hot shower.
The sound of the shower woke McCoy and he rolled over. Then he stretched and sat up. His after dinner nap had refreshed him and he was looking forward to Spock's return. He tuned the bedside lamp on low and leaned back against the copious pillows to wait for his lover.
It was not a long wait; Spock was a fast bather by nature. He came out of the bathroom wearing the crimson robe McCoy had bought him two years ago on Arlisian 7.
"Did I wake you?"
"Yes, but I was hoping you would. Come on in, I feel lost all alone in here."
Spock slid beside his lover and took him in his arms. He pressed a long kiss on the doctor's lips and pulled him close.
McCoy drew back for air.
"What did you Vulcans talk about?" He asked breathlessly.
"I will tell you later." Spock was running his tongue down McCoy's chest. He paused to circle both hard nipples and proceeded lower. He spread McCoy's legs very wide and lay between them.
McCoy arched with pleasure when he felt Spock's hot breath on his cock. He was completely hard within moments of Spock twining his tongue around the head before swallowing it to the root.
"Oh, Spock."
Spock was too busy to reply. McCoy's taste and scent always excited him. He caressed the doctor's hips and ass and longed for deeper union.
So did McCoy and he reached down to pull the Vulcan up to him. He wrapped his legs around Spock and ran his tongue over his lips, licking his taste off them. While Spock grazed on his neck, he leaned over, opened a drawer in the table and handed the Vulcan a jar of lubricant.
Spock was pleased that McCoy had had so much foresight. He doubted he could have left the human to rummage for lube in his luggage. He rolled onto his back and McCoy on top of him.
"This is what I wanted in the shuttlecraft." Spock slipped slick fingers into the human.
"Me, too." McCoy rubbed them together as he moved to meet Spock's slippery, insistent digits.
Spock squeezed some lubricant into McCoy's hands and lay back as his lover made them both slick. He ran his hands up and down McCoy's thighs, teasing the sensitive inner thigh with his fingertips. He gently urged McCoy up and forward.
McCoy positioned himself over Spock's cockhead and moved slowly lower. He made the penetration slow and gentle for his own comfort and because it drove the Vulcan wild. He felt Spock's hands tighten on his thighs and watched him roll his head in pleasure.
After a moment of adjustment, McCoy slid all the way down. Spock moved his hands to the human's penis and began to caress him in long, slow strokes.
McCoy began to move in time with the Vulcan's hands on his cock. He slid up and down the length of Spock, slowly at first, increasing his tempo as Spock increased his. He changed his angle to feel the head of Spock's penis on his prostate and was suddenly very close to climax.
Spock was himself very close to climax and wanted McCoy with him. He increased the tempo of his caress and was gratified to feel the first drops of the human's effulgence on his belly. He thrust helplessly up into his lover and held him still, fully impaled, as he came.
Devastated with pleasure, McCoy fell forward into Spock's arms and lay there panting. Spock stroked his back with his warm hands and let his own breathing drop back down to normal. He moved McCoy enough to slip his still hard cock out and rolled the human onto his side.
They lay together in silence, drowsy but neither ready to sleep.
"We discussed the Kalifee," Spock began without preamble. "They believe I am bonded to you. I did not dissuade them. There is very little for us to do here because they have already collected all the data in anticipation of our visit. We may do as we please while here."
"You mean we get a little vacation, Spock?" McCoy's eyes glowed mischievously.
"Not entirely." That look in McCoy's eyes always made him a little wary. "We must look at Dr. Styren's lab and discuss his latest findings ..."
"Well, of course, I'm looking forward to that. But can we also sleep late and go to bed early?"
"They are expecting us to do that, Leonard."
"Do you mind, Spock?"
"Not at all." He pulled the human close and kissed his forehead. "But now let us sleep. This bed is very comfortable."
Yustala rose and paced behind his desk. Sarek regarded him silently.
"Ambassador." He stopped. "The pirates will not let Rovirin go easily. They have much at stake here. They consider this their home."
"I was under the impression that pirates and Klingons were never long in the same vicinity."
"These Klingons and pirates have come to an understanding. They both want our mineral wealth and are willing to share it between them. What we get out of this arrangement is merely to be allowed to continue to live."
Sarek considered that an understatement as he looked around the beautiful room in the palace the Gozshedrefreingin Commune had built for Yustala. He had been deeply impressed by the beauty of Milryia, the capital city, with its elegant buildings, sweeping plazas and wide boulevards, all built by the Gozshedrefreingin Commune. A mere two years ago it had few paved roads and no architecture of note. Yustala might curse the Klingons but at least their Commune had brought great beauty to Rovirin.
"What sort of understanding is between the pirates and Klingons?" This interested Sarek.
"They don't kill each other." Yustala said flatly. "My uncle Morel would know more, he is in contact with both groups. He likes them." Yustala scowled and looked out his window at the nearly completed Klingon cathedral.
Sarek looked at it, too. "Will he take me to see the cathedral?"
"I WANT HIM OFF ROVIRIN BEFORE SUNSET, MOREL." Hobie stood on the bridge of the Tien, in orbit with her sisters, the Maja and the Yaja, around Ficsionia. He was deeply disturbed that Sarek the Vulcan was on Rovirin.
"It shall be done, Captain Talljet," Morel said smoothly. "He wants to see the Klingon Cathedral tomorrow morning and I'll convince him then it is in his best interest to leave us." He turned to his aide, Colonel Imstk, next to him, "I do not feel Sarek plans to set up shop here, do you Imstk?"
"No, not at all, sir."
"Then see to it." Hobie was anxious to speak to Maja. "I will be there in three days to deal with your treacherous nephew." He broke the connection and made one to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune. Polmira's lovely face filled the screen.
"Father, I am pleased to see you."
"And I you, child, but it's late, why are you still awake?"
"I'm just on my way to bed. Will you speak with Master Ghet?"
"Master Ghet now? Is he not your uncle Maja?" Hobie teased.
"This is the Gozshedrefreingin commune, father." Polmira liked to observe the proprieties.
"Well, then, yes, please. Sleep well, little one."
Master Ghet appeared: "I can feel you from here. What's wrong?"
"Sarek is on Rovirin, in Milryia, and will be visiting the cathedral tomorrow morning."
Maja was stunned: "Oh, god! He must leave."
"So I have said to Morel and he promises to have Sarek gone by sunset."
Maja clasped his elbows with his tattooed hands, his one gesture of distress left over from childhood.
"Are you all right, Maja?"
"Yes, I think so. Why is he here?"
"Yustala wants to join the Federation."
"The swine! After all we've done for this dusty little ball of dirt!"
"I feel as you do, Noli."
"Why is Sarek coming to the cathedral?"
"I don't really know. I suppose he just wants to see it. Sarek was always interested in things Klingon. Probably wants to practice his Klingonese with native speakers, have a look at the building, view the latest marvel of the Klingon renaissance, as I hear it is called. You know you and Master Khat are rather famous, even in the Federation."
"Well, he can look all he likes but I'll keep everyone away from him."
"You could send little Farro out to talk to him."
Maja laughed: "Can you see blunt little Farro telling Sarek what he thinks? It would be quite amusing."
"Yes, very." Hobie was relieved to see Maja smile. "How are the JetCheqs?"
"Oh, fine. They study, they play, they work and everyone is happy and in good health."
"Polmira looks good."
"Polmira always looks good. I'm making him and Tien wear veils around the Klingons."
"If you're worried about the Klingons why do you let Kalzat make love to Tien?"
"Oh, Kalzat. He's one of the family by now." Maja waved a dismissive hand. "Actually, Hobie, I was thinking that when you come here you would take the JetCheqs and Kalzat for a visit to Jir on Orissa while we move the Commune to Zhaharnisha."
"I'd be happy to. What's on Zhaharnisha?"
"The usual. First a barracks, then a church and as many public buildings and villas as possible in the meantime."
"I see the Haats are going to build their planets into submission."
"I hope so. Blasting them into submission is so messy. Of course it eliminates the treacherous swine like Yustala from the gitgo."
"And the noble warriors like Morel as well."
They looked at each other and wondered when they would lose this home this time. It was the price of success and they silently gave thanks for the bigness of the galaxy. But still, it was sad; they were very fond of Rovirin.
"Hochofedra, Nolo," Maja shrugged. "I'll see you in three days. Godspeed."
"Godspeed, my Maja."
Yustala's request that his uncle show Sarek the nearly completed cathedral was speedily granted. In fact, Sarek was accompanied through the structure by Morel, Colonel KhalatzTzir, acting head of the garrison in General KizjietHaat's absence, and Master Khat.
"Impressive," Sarek commented, admiring the high vaulted ceilings, the murals and friezes. He also noted the inherent fortifications and the designed-in defensibility of it. 'Built to withstand a siege; very Klingon,' he thought. 'Beautiful; very Gozshedrefreingin Commune.'
Master Khat was explaining the technique used on the altar space, the upper part still covered with scaffolding. How the scenes are etched with acid and in some places cut with fine chisels before color is applied. The particular scene they were admiring was from a Klingon parable concerning fidelity. It was Saint Lyzkta, sole survivor of a massacre, slouching in a field of dead soldiers, greeting his commanding officer with his last breath and the news that the garrison, vastly out-gunned and out-numbered, had held its position. It moved all Klingons who saw it to tears.
Colonel Khalatz was blinking the mist out of his eyes when he heard scuffling on the scaffolding above him. He looked up just in time to see a body fall from it and instinctively held out his arms to catch it.
Tien Gozshedrefreingin baMajaKhat landed in the Klingon's arms and found himself held fast.
"You know, Tien," Khalatz commented casually while tightening his grip, "I have dreams like this."
Colonel Khalatz, alas, was one of the Klingons Master Ghet worried might rape Tien and/or Polmira.
"Let me down, Klingon!" Tien began to squirm in earnest.
"In my dreams," Khalatz continued serenely, "you finally realize and reward my devotion to you."
"And only in your dreams, you Targ-fucking Klingon bastard!" Tien spat, thrashing as best he could. "Put me down right now!"
"Really, Tien, your Klingonese grows more enchanting every day!" Khalatz pinned Tien's arms a little more firmly.
Master Khat was musing on what Tien was doing on the scaffolding when he had been explicitly ordered to stay in the painting workshop. He noticed Tien's brothers, Hraja and Farro moving out of the shadows and decided to act before they did.
"Colonel Khalatz," he said, "thank you for catching this creature. I am sure he has troubled you enough for one morning."
Khalatz looked into Master Khat's serious face and then into the even more serious faces of Hraja and Farro on either side of him. He considered his chances against the three of them, really four with Tien, and tossed Tien to standing.
Tien moved behind his Master with alacrity.
"Children, go to bed."
"It's bedtime somewhere in the galaxy and now, it's bedtime for you. Go." He swatted at them with the short whip Klingon Masters wore as part of their habit.
They went; they knew they were in trouble.
Sarek and Morel had watched the scene in various states. Morel with concern. Khalatz's interest in Tien was a joke in the Garrison. However, it was understood that Khalatz would take advantage of any opportunity to ravish Tien and the Commune made very sure that opportunity never occurred. Morel did not wish to see Tien brutalized, nor tensions between the Commune and the Garrison exacerbated further over this stupid issue.
Sarek was merely wondering why he felt a resonance to this beauty in himself. He had felt a low, familiar vibration upon entering the cathedral but he had attributed it to the telepathic Patois speaking communists, keeping out of sight but very much present nevertheless. The vibration had increased as they neared the altar and was a low, pleasant steady drone by the time Khalatz let go of Tien. The drone had dropped back to vibration as the trio of youngsters disappeared into the building. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a shadow moving off but assumed it was just another errant communist.
The quartet turned their attention back to the cathedral and the tour continued.
Master Khat was elaborating on the symbolism of a statue of Saint Ozkirt, patron saint of conducting and withstanding sieges, when General Morel was called away by one of his aides.
It was in the crypt area, where all the Klingon Bishops for this cathedral would be buried, that Colonel Imstk arrived with a squad of soldiers and arrested Sarek as an agent provocateur.
"On course for Plintes 3, sir." Chekov stated briskly.
"We'll be a day early," Kirk mused aloud. "We can surprise Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"This is madness, Gozine." Master Khat was arguing for the tenth time that afternoon. "You will put yourself at risk when you can do nothing for him. Our best course is to wait for your brother..."
"I think that unwise." Master Ghet said flatly, removing the bronze runes, duplicates of the runes on his hands, from his habit's cloak thus making it anonymous. He had already changed his cassock for a black shirt and trousers. He was now stuffing dried fruits, vegetables, nuts and water tabs into the inner pockets, next to the doubloons, knives, rope, pencil and drawing pad. The dilithium crystals were sewn into the hem as usual. He completed these activities and turned to rubbing a cream that covered the tattoos into his hands. Finished, he put the tube in his cloak also.
Shortly after Sarek had been arrested the Commune received the news that Colonel Imstk had declared a state of emergency and himself provisional head of the government. He had the full support of Colonel Khalatz and the Garrison. Yustala and Morel had nothing to say as their heads were on stakes in front of the Palace of Government.
The Commune had wisely barricaded themselves into the cathedral at this news. This was their usual practice in times of civil unrest. It was advantageous in another way. When Khalatz arrived with his own guards to demand not only Tien but also Polmira, the Commune was not at home to them. They surmised that Khalatz was assessing how much damage he could inflict on the cathedral and commune with impunity. General Kizjiet would arrive in three days with the Hierophant Kroldt, whom he'd gone to fetch for the cathedral's consecration.
"You sent for me, Master." Tien entered sheepishly.
Master Ghet gave him a hard look. In the confusion following Sarek's arrest Tien's escapade had been overlooked. But not forgotten.
"And just what were you doing on that scaffolding?" Master Ghet gave his oldest son his full attention.
"I wanted to see whom you didn't want me to see." Tien knew only the truth would do here. He lowered his eyes.
Master Khat raised his eyebrows and almost smiled. Master Ghet did neither: "Why?"
"The way you told us to stay out of the cathedral, Master," he raised his eyes. "Something so strange was in your voice that I had to know who could make you sound ... "
The Masters waited.
"... sad and afraid at the same time. I'm sorry to disobey you but I had to know."
Master Khat drew a breath and hoped Gozine would not be too harsh with Tien.
Master Ghet merely looked at Tien with sorrow and love and regret that he did not know his first son better. Of course Tien would have tried to see what provoked him. Hadn't he himself overreacted to Sarek's arrival? Hadn't he himself skulked around in the shadows just for a glimpse of SpockDeVulCheq's father?
"Well," Master Ghet said quietly, "so now you know." He turned away.
"Leave us, please, Tien." Master Khat murmured. Tien closed the door quietly behind himself.
Master Khat turned back to Master Ghet but he had already gone.
"Order the Dancer, the Lokka and the Skolta to rendezvous with us at Rovirin." Hobie was seriously alarmed by the news from that planet.
'More speed,' he thought, 'more speed.'
Spock woke next to McCoy on the penultimate morning of their stay on Plintes 3 and felt his bondmate very near and very aroused. He reached for McCoy and kissed him awake.
Kirk had located McCoy's communicator and had beamed down nearby it in the cool gray dawn light. He was moving around the house, creeping up to the shuttered doors of the bedroom where he assumed McCoy was sleeping. He planned to surprise the doctor. Although he had behaved himself these many months, Kirk still enjoyed as much intimacy with McCoy as the doctor would allow. Surprising him in bed was just the sort of almost unacceptable liberty Kirk dared take with him. He found it rather odd but pleasant that the prospect of watching McCoy sleep was so arousing. He moved up to the shutters and peeked between them at the object of his affection. And froze.
Spock was exploring the inside of Leonard's mouth as he had every dawn since their arrival on Plintes 3. Leisurely morning sex was perhaps the most pleasant part of the stay. McCoy was responding with his usual fervor. He spread his legs and wrapped them around the Vulcan's waist as they provocatively ground their erections together.
Kirk stood transfixed, wishing he could free his suddenly painfully hard cock from his pants. He was silent and still, watching intently, not wanting to give his presence away. And yet, as Spock pulled back the covers, he vaguely felt that the Vulcan knew he was there and was giving him the best possible view of the proceedings.
Spock was almost overwhelmed by Kirk's, McCoy's and his own arousal. His hands shook as he squeezed lubricant onto his fingers and applied it to McCoy and himself. He rolled the doctor forward and centered his cock at the tight opening. He gently pressed the head in and watched breathlessly as McCoy arched against him with pleasure.
Kirk simply stopped breathing as Spock buried himself to the hilt in McCoy. He resumed breathing when the Vulcan established a steady rhythm fucking the doctor. He was almost wild with arousal when McCoy, the object of his denied desire for so long, thrust up wantonly to meet his lover's strokes. He watched them thrash together as they came and drew on measures of self-control he didn't know he had not to come himself.
'I must have him,' Kirk thought of McCoy.
/then come, t'hy'la, and have him/
McCoy, curled in Spock's side, did not see the door silently open. He was still breathing hard in the aftermath of a profound orgasm and was thoroughly enjoying Spock's fingers, on his cock and at his temple, stroking him to hardness again. This was something new but he attributed it to the limited amount of time they had left here together. They had certainly made good use of it thus far. He stretched voluptuously and rolled his head to see Kirk standing over him, smiling wickedly.
Spock microscopically tightened his grip on the doctor when McCoy recoiled against him. It was subtle but the 'lie still' message was not lost on the human.
McCoy could only wonder why Spock was still holding and stroking him with Jim standing there. And then Kirk pulled off his tunic and T-shirt and all doubt evaporated.
Kirk dispensed with his clothes, never breaking eye contact with McCoy. He was pleased when Spock hooked his ankle under McCoy's and spread the doctor's legs for him. He gratefully slid between them and silenced whatever McCoy started to say with a deep, forceful kiss. Kirk was enjoying the feel of McCoy's skin on his, especially his belly against Kirk's hard cock.
Spock broke contact and moved back to watch them. He could feel his bondmate swoon with pleasure as he rolled the doctor forward and slid his cock into him. He could feel McCoy trying to resist his own shocked erotic excitement as Kirk took him. Spock ran a warm hand down Kirk's back and flank, slowing his motions and coaxing him into a calmer rhythm. He reached for the tube of lubricant and squeezed some on his fingers. He reached between them to stroke McCoy reassuringly as he slipped his fingers between the cheeks of Kirk's fine round ass.
Kirk had given a surprised thrust when Spock had slipped a slick fingertip into him. He thrust further into McCoy trying to elude the Vulcan's warm finger, thrusting into him. He slid back when Spock did. Very soon Kirk began to enjoy the sensation and found himself sliding out of McCoy and onto Spock's now two fingers and back into McCoy. He was awash in the multiple sensations of Spock's fingers in him, he in McCoy and McCoy's passionate and surrendered lips on his (McCoy had finally gotten over his shock and was engrossed in his incipient second orgasm of the morning.) Kirk, feeling the doctor's urgency, quickened pace and was gratified to feel McCoy thrusting against him, moaning against his mouth.
Spock wiped his fingers on a towel and applied a generous amount of lube to his own hard cock. He waited patiently for Kirk and McCoy to come.
Kirk was very close and knew McCoy was right behind him. He shortened his thrusts and ground his belly against the doctor's cock. He was gratified to hear McCoy's voluptuous groan and feel the first drops splash between them. He flung himself against the doctor thrice and collapsed on top of him, shuddering in his own wild climax. He lay atop the object of his desire, groaning with pleasure while McCoy gently stroked his broad shoulders.
McCoy felt more than saw Spock moving behind Kirk. He slipped first one leg and then the other between Kirk's and spread them very wide for the Vulcan. He very slightly tightened his hold on Jim's shoulders and looked Spock right in the eye as the Vulcan knelt between the four human legs.
Kirk jumped slightly at the feel of inhumanly warm hands spreading his cheeks. Whatever he would have said about it was silenced by McCoy's lips on his. Knowing he could have stopped Spock with a word, he was silent. It somehow seemed only right that as he had just made love to McCoy that Spock should now make love to him. He allowed himself to feel firmly held helpless between them. He hoped Spock would somehow realize it was his first time and be gentle.
McCoy felt Kirk's trepidation and soothed him.
"Relax, Jim, relax."
Spock was very gentle. He thrust gently against the entrance to Kirk's body until his cockhead slipped past the tight pink ring and stopped. He held there allowing Kirk to get used to the feeling.
McCoy held Kirk in his arms and planted kisses on his lower lip, soothing away the wince of pain.
"There, that's the hardest part. Now, push against him."
Spock slid in a little deeper. He adjusted his weight and the angle of Kirk's hips so McCoy was not crushed.
'Ever the gentleman,' McCoy thought. He wondered if this was such a good idea but knew they were too far into it to stop. He watched Spock's eyes fall shut as he achieved full penetration. McCoy knew that look and he wasn't sure he liked seeing it just now. He turned his attention back to Kirk, whose cock had slipped out and was hard again, moaning against his neck. McCoy reached between them to stroke Kirk in the same rhythm as Spock's gentle thrusts.
Once the pain had transmutated to pleasure, Kirk found he was enjoying himself very much. He moved his lips to McCoy's and tilted his neck to give Spock's lips better access to it. He rubbed his cock voluptuously against McCoy's belly and writhed beneath Spock's thrusts. He found himself at the threshold of his climax and held there, enthralled and enfolded in the rush of sensation between his two lovers. He thrust against McCoy until he felt the doctor responding with his own climax. Kirk groaned with pure animal pleasure as he came and felt Spock thrust all the way in and come himself. The rush of hot cum and hard jerking cock inside him was like nothing Kirk had ever imagined and he was nearly overwhelmed with pleasure.
McCoy, breathless, let them rest for a moment before he slid out from under them and went into the bathroom. He closed the door and ran a hot shower.
'This was a mistake,' he thought, stepping under the spray. 'I wonder just how bad a mistake.'
He was presently joined by Spock and Kirk, looking somewhat ill at ease.
'I wonder what happened after I left' McCoy speculated, sluicing the soap from his body, 'couldn't have been much, I've only been in here a few minutes.'
Kirk rinsed off and pulled the doctor into a deep kiss. He had felt more at ease with McCoy in bed and was glad to be with him again.
McCoy gently pulled away, drew Spock into his arms and kissed him sweetly. He moved back to rinse his pleasure-sated body once more and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped himself in the light robe he'd brought and wandered into the kitchen to replicate some coffee.
Kirk came into the kitchen wrapped in a towel and sat next to him at the table. He was still trying to overcome the awkwardness that had sprung up between him and Spock after McCoy had left them in bed. As Spock slipped out of the human, Kirk had felt suddenly violated and vulnerable in a strange way. As if Spock were manipulating his desires from a distance. He had wanted to fuck McCoy, had wanted to for months and after Spock made it possible, Kirk was disturbed that, even though he'd enjoyed Spock fucking him, the Vulcan would ask, take, payment for it. He pushed his discomfort away and concentrated on McCoy, slicing up some local fruit in front of him.
"Hi," Kirk murmured, realizing it was the first word he's spoken since arriving.
McCoy looked up and laughed a little: "Hi. Welcome to Plintes 3, Jim."
"Thanks," Kirk smiled, "you and Spock seem to be enjoying it."
"And you're not?" McCoy challenged but didn't get an answer.
Spock came in wearing the crimson robe McCoy had given him. He sat and accepted a plate of fruit.
Kirk was eyeing him, or rather, was eyeing the robe he was wearing.
"Spock," Kirk said, relaxing in his curiosity, "where did you get that robe?"
"It was a gift from Dr. McCoy."
Kirk sat back and did some math.
"Bones, is this the robe you bought on Arlisian 7?"
"Yes."
"I saw you buy it. I thought it was for me."
"Red is not your color, Jim."
"I know, that's why I thought it was odd that you were buying it and then when I didn't get it I guess I forgot about it." Kirk frowned. Spock and McCoy exchanged looks, wondering what this was about.
"We were on Arlisian 7 over two years ago."
"True, Jim, what of it?"
"How long have you and Spock been lovers?"
McCoy hesitated so Spock answered: "Two years, four months and eleven Standard days."
Kirk was silent.
"Since right after the Galileo mission." McCoy offered quietly.
Kirk was nonplussed. McCoy sipped his coffee and wondered what was next.
"'Two years, four months and eleven Standard days'." He repeated quietly. "And I thought your affair began here, on Plintes 3."
McCoy gently shook his head.
"Bones," Kirk said thoughtfully, "You've had dozens of women over the past few years, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, a few I suppose. I haven't been counting but...."
"Twenty-seven," Spock said flatly.
"...but twenty-seven sounds about right," McCoy finished nodding at the Vulcan.
The humans sipped their coffee in silence while Spock drank his fruit juice.
"I had no idea," Kirk continued. "All this time, neither of you let on."
They shook their heads at him.
"And all those afternoons you weren't talking about science, were you?"
"Well, actually, we did talk about science some, Jim." McCoy drawled. "It is what we do."
"Hmmm." Kirk was considering how well they'd not let their relationship affect their duty. He realized he loved them both and wanted to be part of their menage. But he wanted to remain Spock's friend and become McCoy's lover, or rather continue to be McCoy's lover. He had not, however, worked out how this was to be accomplished on a starship full of observant humans.
"And no one knew about you?" Kirk said, dropping out of his musing.
"Not as far as I know." McCoy picked up the empty plates and headed toward the sink.
"Nor I." Spock stood and went to help McCoy wash up.
Kirk watched them move with the grace of two people deeply in tune with one another. They had always been like that when they were together. He had always attributed it to Spock's surprising sensitivity and the cool space of peace he kept around himself and to McCoy's natural graciousness and warmth. And yet they were opposites: Spock was silent and solitary, rebuffing almost everyone and McCoy warm and gregarious, drew everyone to him. But here they were, lovers since almost the beginning of the mission. He now perceived it as the sexual peace lovers of long-standing make between them. The simple ease of learning, accepting and loving your partner for what he is and letting go of any regrets for what he is not.
Kirk had never been with anyone long enough to have ever had that. He closed his eyes, remembering the pleasure of fucking McCoy. He pushed it away, for the moment, rose and went back into the bedroom to dress.
"I hope to god you know what you're doing, Spock." McCoy murmured.
Spock lowered his eyes and did not answer.
Sarek had slipped into a healing trance just prior to being beaten into unconsciousness by three of Imstk's guards. He was thrown into a crowded cell whose inmates relieved him of his fine clothing. One of them had shown pity on the half-dead man and tossed some rags around him.
The cell was crowded because a prison ship was due the following morning to transport the occupants to a prison colony on Rist 8 in the Trza system in non-aligned space. These prisoners would be worked to death in the mineral field there. The dead Yustala had made this arrangement with the Ristians. It was a simple way to dispose of criminals, rebels, maniacs and other troublemakers. The Rovirin coffers even received four Ristian gold ducats per prisoner. He could not have dreamed that Sarek of Vulcan, his invited guest, would now provide an additional 4 ducats.
Sarek was deep inside himself and so at first did not feel the gentle hands on his bleeding brow. He just barely felt the skin pull tight and smooth as the gashes there knitted together. They caressed his broken jaws, restoring the bone and mending the shattered teeth. He felt energy coalesce in his nose and could almost hear the cartilage reassembling itself. The hands moved down to the aching broken ribs. He felt the tips of the bone moving back into place and out of his lungs. He felt the pain of mere breathing subside. He could even feel his punctured lung heal and reinflate.
For a moment the hands left him and he sank back down into his trance.
The hands returned. He felt them moving over his stomach healing the bruised flesh there. They lingered over the bleeding internal organs, pouring pure healing energy into them, making them whole again. The hands moved over his bruised and bleeding groin where the guards had kicked him with steel tipped boots.
Sarek felt the hands recoil for a moment and return. He thought he could just hear someone crying softly but he preferred not to come close enough to consciousness to investigate. The healing continued in his groin area. He felt the ache in his genitals ebbing away and the blood flow restored.
He felt the unseen hands move down his legs, healing the bruised thighs and shattered kneecaps. They vanished for a few moments and returned to soothe away the bruises on his calves. They progressed to the torn cartilage in his ankles and his broken feet. He could almost feel the bones and tissue knitting together.
Sarek was now strong enough to focus his own healing energy in assistance of the hands. He let his consciousness roam over the areas the hands had healed and moved with them to his back and neck. Together they explored the damage inflicted with phaser rifle butts and clubs.
'Why didn't they shoot me?' Sarek wondered weakly.
/they are savages/
Sarek felt this waft gently through his consciousness and then it was gone. He returned his attention to healing his body.
Maja let the tears run freely down his face as he pulled Sarek's agony away from the Vulcan and into his own body. Three times he had had to stop before the pain and damage caused him to lose consciousness himself. Twice he'd stopped to fight off predators that found him and his clothes too interesting. They'd jumped him from behind while he was preoccupied. He'd broken their necks and left their bodies nearby as a warning to anyone else with the same idea.
The MageCheq thanked god repeatedly for the thick Vulcan skull on Sarek. It had been fractured but there was no brain damage. Had Maja found brain damage there would be nothing to be done for it. He was shaking with pain as he carefully explored each of Sarek's vertebrae, probing for spinal damage and weeping with relief at finding none. He stroked the base of the Vulcan's skull soothingly, feeling Sarek's healing trance take over. Maja broke contact and sat back on his heels to rest. Weak as a babe, he stared down a big Rovirin male moving in his direction. Even from ten meters Maja could feel the violence in the big male's mind and quickly entered that mind and changed those thoughts to more pacific ones. The Rovirin wandered off, suddenly very interested in something on the other side of the cell.
Maja felt Sarek stirring to consciousness in his mind and wondered how deep a link they had forged in the healing. In his rush to save the old Vulcan's life, forming a link with Sarek was a risk Maja had not had any time to contemplate. He stroked the high forehead with his fingertips, easing the Vulcan into a deeper sleep. Maja needed time to decide what to do next now that he was stuck here.
Maja had slipped out of the cathedral and into its shadow, very near the door Sarek had been led out of. He had to find a trace of Sarek's psychic energy somewhere.
'I could track you by your shadow, Spock,' he'd once boasted when they were youths. Spock had dared him and Maja had tracked him to a secluded spot near the Forge. He'd been rewarded with an embrace and they had stayed there learning each other's pleasure until nightfall. They'd caught hell when they got home but it was worth it.
'Ah, there,' Maja sighed softly. The memory had vibrated around him, spreading its energy in all directions. It caught an eddy of Sarek's energy field and Maja could feel where it lead. Sarek was well shielded but like all beings he left a trail of energy wherever his body was. His energy was alarmingly faint and Maja quickened his pace through the shadows following it. Even at this distance he could almost feel the beating Sarek had taken.
'Keep living, Vulcan, keep living.' Maja chanted as he flew through the dark and empty streets.
Getting into the prison was easy. The guards were distracted by the change in government and inattentive to anyone trying to enter the structure. He influenced several guards into opening locked doors for him. Maja had quickly found the cell and Sarek. He flung himself on the battered Vulcan and poured his own life energy into the prone form. When he felt the life force regenerating he went to work healing the injuries before Sarek bled to death or drowned in his own blood.
'Thank the infinite mercy of god these Vulcans are a sturdy species.' Maja thought between taking Sarek's injuries onto himself. He had had to pause to let his own body heal itself, which it did with its empath quickness.
Maja watched warily as several prisoners came close and tossed Sarek's boots and clothing to him. The general consensus among the prisoners, having seen Maja in action, was that it was extremely unwise to provoke someone with so powerful a protector and so what had been taken was returned. Maja had smiled coldly and pulled the garments back on the Vulcan.
'Easier to get them off than on,' he thought as he redressed Sarek. Another prisoner, one of the weaker ones, came near with a mute offer of help but was chased off with a scowl.
'I cannot protect you, too,' Maja thought savagely. 'I'm not sure I can protect anyone.'
Now that the Vulcan would surely live, Maja turned his attention to a new problem. There were no guards around to influence into opening the cell door and letting them walk out. Everything was securely locked down and he noticed the surveillance cameras. This prison was designed to allow the guards to remain at a safe distance from the prisoners. The floors and walls could be selectively electrified to break up fights and other disturbances the guards monitored from their stations on the ground floor. It was a brilliant design. Maja should know because the Gozshedrefreingin Commune had designed and built it. He was very aware of how escape-proof it was.
'Well, let's hope Kalzat can pull us out of the crowd when we're moved to the transport ship in the morning.' Maja thought as he curled around Sarek. Knowing Sarek was still in a weakened state, Maja let his own health energy radiate into the sleeping Vulcan. Spock had always liked sleeping next to Maja, even for short naps, because he always felt so refreshed and renewed when he woke. Anyone who sleeps in an empath's arms has the same experience.
KalzatMzir stood in the shadows under the prison assessing the situation and it didn't look great.
Plan A was to create a diversion when the prison ship began to load. The main problem was that the Commune did not know where, exactly, this would take place.
Kalzat was not a telepath so he was relying on Tien, Farro, Polmira, Master Pzchaz and Master Whilla to jump one of the guards and pull it out of their thick head. So far all the guards they'd jumped had not known the location and time was growing short.
Tien swung silently around the corner and into his arms.
"They'll load from the east gate, darling," he whispered.
This was bad news but better than not knowing. The east gate was the most visible and best defended and therefore the most reasonable to use for loading a mass of prisoners.
"Good work, fara. Round everyone up and meet me by the east gate. Good thing you got lucky."
"Luck is for rabbits," Tien stated flatly, shaking his hair off his shoulders. "However, we will need some at the east gate." He pecked Kalzat on the cheek and was gone.
Sarek came cautiously to consciousness. His most recent conscious experiences had been excruciating and he was not anxious to meet them again. However, he pushed his reservations away and slowly, carefully, came to full awareness. The first thing he noted was that he was no longer in agony. The second was that someone was curled up next to him with their head on his chest. He drew back to look at the creature, who was looking up at him.
"Maja?" Sarek was so stunned he could barely sigh out the syllables.
"Yes, Lord Sarek," Maja whispered in his heavily Rom accented Vulcan. "How do you feel?"
"I still have some pain in my legs but otherwise fine." He pulled Maja's hand away from his thigh, noting that Maja still had an accent one could cut with a knife after all these years. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to fix you up," Maja snapped, reclaiming his hand away and placing it firmly back on the Vulcan's thigh.
Sarek, remembering how determined Maja Talljet could be on Vulcan, did not resist. He was still and glad when the pain was gone. He felt weak but knew only time would cure that. And hungry but knew from his surroundings there was likely no help for that.
Maja reached into his cloak and drew out a handful of Beva nuts. Sarek, somewhat surprised, gratefully accepted them, along with a water tab.
"Where are we?" Sarek asked between nuts.
"In the transport prison."
"What is that?"
"It's the prison where persons deemed to be incorrigible are held until they are transported to a prison work planet. This lot is bound for Rist."
"Are we part of this lot?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Maja accepted a Beva nut from Sarek's hand and fell silent. They sat together quietly. Sarek was gathering his strength for the next conversation, which he expected to be difficult.
"Now, Maja," Sarek said firmly, "tell me what you are doing here."
Maja sighed and launched into the edited version of the truth he'd prepared for Spock's father.
"I saw you arrested in the cathedral and followed you here. I got in and healed you as best I could. I'm hoping some friends will rescue us before we get loaded onto the prison ship that is coming in the morning."
Sarek listened to this brief account and found it a little too streamlined. He waited an appropriate amount of time to determine that Maja had no more to say.
"Why were you in the cathedral?" he asked levelly.
"I work there," Maja replied shortly.
"Are you with the Commune?"
"Yes."
"What do you do there?"
Maja considered saying 'I'm a bed boy' but suppressed it. He said instead: "I cut stone and cast metals and paint a little." 'True enough for you, Vulcan,' he thought.
Sarek decided to accept this because he remembered Maja drawing and painting on Vulcan. He even had a pen and ink landscape Maja had given him in a fit of affection for his son. He looked at it every day in his office on Vulcan.
"How do you come to be with the Commune?" Sarek asked.
Maja compressed his lips. Sarek remembered this as a sign of irritation but did not withdraw the question. He waited a reasonable amount of time for an answer.
"Maja, I asked you..."
"Sarek," he snapped, "this is not the time or place for you to interrogate me. Why don't you go back to sleep for a while?"
Sarek knew he wasn't up to a fight just then. He decided a brief nap would refresh him and dozed off.
Maja watched over his sleep and felt a little guilty for being short with the Vulcan.
'These are,' Maja thought, 'after all, only logical questions.' He arranged Sarek's cloak to better cover the Vulcan. In the quiet of the cell he began to pray that the Commune would get them out of this.
Kalzat's plan could have been used in a textbook at the Klingon Academy where he had recently been to school. The plan was elegant in its simplicity. Members of the Commune would create a diversion while a small band with phasers stunned their way into the mass of prisoners and liberated Master Ghet and Sarek the Vulcan. It could only fail if the diversion was not great enough or the amount of guards was larger than expected.
Kalzat surveyed his preparations from the shadows and thought of how much he loved Master Ghet. He'd been raised in the Commune when his father was executed for displeasing the Emperor and his mother, Kaziria, sought refuge there. Kalzat had grown up with Tien and they'd fallen in love. Kaziria's family had made peace with the Tajz and she was allowed to return. Her son was offered a place in the Klingon Academy and reluctantly followed his mother back to the homeworld. Two years were enough to prove to him and everyone around him that, although he was a brilliant student and tactician, he had been in the Commune too long to possess the temperament required of a Klingon Warrior. It was a relief to come home and just be Kalzat again.
The Commune was glad to have him back as well. One never knew when one would need a brilliant tactician. Especially in the places this Commune found itself.
Such as the one they were in now. If this plan did not work Master Ghet would be forced into a prison ship bound for hell and the Commune had no way to follow until Captain Talljet arrived in two days.
'We shall succeed,' Kalzat chanted as his mantra, checking his phaser for the nth time.
In the dim, pre-dawn light he watched the prison ship dock and extend the loading ramp. The huge doors opened on the darkness within and Kalzat could smell the stench of filth and decay. It was how he imagined the mouth of hell must be.
The Klingon was encouraged to see only twenty guards, ten on either side of the ramp, take up their positions.
'We shall succeed. We shall succeed. We shall succeed. Please god ... '
"Sarek," Maja whispered as the cell doors banged open. "We're going. Stay close to me."
Maja helped him to his feet and supported the Vulcan toward the doors. Orders to move out of the cell were barked over loudspeakers. Evidently the throng of prisoners was not moving fast enough because a low level shock went over the floor.
Maja and Sarek, being Vulcanoid, were not much discomforted by the shock but did not wish to feel it again. They joined the swifter crowd surging out the door and down the corridor.
Maja cursed in Patois. Still no guards to influence so they could slip away. Perhaps, with luck, when they were outside, between the gate and ship. But which gate? And how far is the ship? 'Please god, let Kalzat be successful.'
Kalzat and the Commune had moved into position when Imstk and over a hundred of his guards arrived. Imstk directed his thugs into position along the ramp, behind the twenty regular prison guards. Kalzat noticed the proceedings were being recorded.
'Imstk must want proof of what a great danger he saved Rovirin from. An old Vulcan who didn't want any trouble in the first place.' Kalzat sneered, trying to keep his sinking spirits up. He caught sight of Tien's worried face in the crowd coming toward him.
"We're ready," Tien murmured. "This looks bad, lover."
"It should not affect us," Kalzat assured him. "You get the diversion going and leave the rest to me."
Tien disappeared back into the crowd.
Kalzat surveyed the scene and concluded that he would have to stun eight or nine, instead of two or three, guards to get to Master Ghet.
'I can do this, I know I can.'
Maja and Sarek stepped blinking into the dawn and toward the ship. Maja looked with horror at the guards five deep on either side of them. There were too many to distract or influence. He prayed they were not too many for the Commune.
At that moment he heard screaming and the sound of a huge engine. He caught sight of a burning truck crashing through the crowd from the north. He looked south and felt more than saw Kalzat phasering his way through the guards.
"Sarek, stay with me!" Maja cried, pulling the Vulcan southward.
The burning truck plunged into the guards behind them causing the crowd of prisoners to surge forward toward the ship. Maja fought the wave as best he could and hung onto Sarek but they were swept even closer to the door. He looked back to see Kalzat trying to get through the panicky crowd and resolute guards. Maja heard phaser fire behind him but didn't know whose. He and Sarek dug in their heels and fought to stay put but the momentum of the crowd was too much for them. They were pushed closer and closer to the ship.
Kalzat, now joined by Tien, was fighting his way through what was now a riot. He saw Master Khat and Hraja fighting in from the other side and Master Whilla and the journeyman Laza battling in somewhere to his right. Half the guards had turned to face the crowd and repel the waves of hysterical people fleeing the fires the burning truck had started. It was the perfect diversion. There were just too many guards and the throng of prisoners had swept Master Ghet and Sarek too far forward for the Commune to rescue them. Kalzat flung himself at the guards with a howl of pure Klingon rage that turned to despair as he saw Master Ghet and Sarek swept inside the ship and out of sight. Behind him, Imstk's reinforcements were firing into the crowd. Kalzat and Tien made one last desperate lunge toward the ship before the doors closed. If they could at least get inside ... With the prisoners all inside the guards broke formation and the crowd surged across the ramp. Tien and Kalzat got within three meters of the doors only to see them close with a thump and have the ramp jerked out from under them. They rolled away, clenching their teeth in rage and despair and ran for cover as the ship lifted off with Master Gozine Gozshedrefreingin Ghet and Sarek of Vulcan inside.
Not only had Imstk had the ship's loading recorded, he'd had it broadcast to the planet. This was to prove his complete control of the city and therefore of Rovirin.
Captain Norris and her bridge crew watched the proceedings in helpless horror. Upon learning of Sarek's arrest, she had reported it to Star Fleet and after what seemed a long delay was ordered not to interfere. Norris decided to interpret this as an order not to transport a security team to the planet to retrieve the three Vulcans (Sovort and Smirek were still somewhere on the planet). She ordered a scan for the Vulcan's Federation ID implants. She was unable to locate any of them due to the shields around the government buildings they were held in.
"Get a fix on Sarek and beam him aboard," Norris ordered upon spotting the Vulcan in the throng of prisoners.
God knows the Shilo's crew tried but there was too much confusion and too little time. They watched the Ristian prison ship rise out of sight.
"Prepare to leave orbit, Lt. Lau. Follow that ship but stay out of scanner range." Norris hated to leave Sovort and Smirek on the planet but at least she knew Sarek was alive and the trail was hot.
"Transmit this broadcast to Star Fleet." Norris hoped if she was unsuccessful in retrieving Sarek, Star Fleet would send another ship after him. She rather doubted it somehow. The isolationist movement on Terra was so strong it was even influencing Star Fleet decisions.
The Shilo moved slowly deeper into non-aligned space, toward the area known as the Tziviian Autonomous Zone.
