So, new fic...It's my first Trekky fic so don't judge me too much :') I really enjoy writing this and hope you enjoy reading it. I'm not that good with the updating but I've got a lot of fic already written so it shouldn't be that bad.

Hope you like!

"What is it like not to feel anger, or heartbreak, or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?"

"Back away-"

"You feel nothing. It must not even compute for you. You never loved her!"

A cold and bitter silence warped the room as Spock launched himself at Jim. The match was hardly fair from the start. Even a half Vulcan has superior strength and if the crew had studied close enough they could've told his heart wasn't in it. The blows rained down on Kirk and he was pretty sure he felt a couple of ribs crack under the pressure.

Spock's hand suddenly clamped down on Jim's neck, forcing the breath from his throat. He gasped, desperately.

"Spock."

The Vulcan made no acknowledgement of his father's warning. But eventually he lessened his grip on Kirk's neck. Looking around he took in the shocked, gawping faces and terrified figures. Terrified of him. He let go. He couldn't be, and yet he was; compromised. It had never been a relevant problem before now and yet for some reason the man before him had got under his skin in the very way that had caused his this.

Jim lay gasping for breath on the console board as Spock admitted his emotional compromisation. He walked toward the turbolift, resignedly, a word he would normally disassociate from himself immediately. Outbursts of protests and anger erupted from behind him, all directed at Kirk.

It is not my place to interfere, he concluded.

A hand crept up his back, tracing down his cheek, down to his jawline and lifting his chin till he met the eyes of the owner of the hand.

Uhura.

She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes as she pulled him into a lingering kiss. She granted him with a calming bliss.

"Kirk's a dick. I'm sorry."

Spock's eyebrows furrowed together exposing his confusion that he rarely expressed to others.

"I don't understand. You have no influence over the Captain-"

His reply came short for a blaring alarm that seemed to shake the lift as it juddered to a halt. The doors slid open to reveal twelve mean cloaked in black clothing all wielding a mix of phasers, stun rifles and old fashioned stun guns.

"Curious." Spock said, a niggling sensation flared at the back of his mind and filled him with a sense he labelled as anxiousness.

"Hands in the air." The man closest to them said, lifting the gun.

"I suggest you-" Spock's voice was cut off once more by a resonating shot. Pain shot down his body as his green blood seeped through his shirt. Uhura gasped and didn't falter in supporting him.

"I don't like suggestions." The man said, smirking.

"Now, hands on your head, unless you want the Vulcan to have a hole through his head as well as his arm."

Uhura gave him a fleeting look and proceeded to slowly place her hands on her head. Green blood smeared through her hair.

Spock assessed the options before him. Submitting would be the far safest option but that would mean surrendering the ship. Uhura's safety mattered most.