Title: The Most Forgiven

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS

Rating: M

Codes: S/U

Summary: Kirk, Spock, and Uhura clash over the events surrounding the Khittomer peace treaty.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Kirk, Spock, Uhura, and company. I have just borrowed them for a while. I will not profit from any of this.

This story is part of my Spock/Uhura universe. It takes place between The Real Thing and Listening for the Waves.

As always, thanks to my beta readers Jungle Kitty and Suzie.

This story won 1st place for "Best General Pairing" in the 2000 ASC Awards. It also won 1st place for "Best TOS Het," 1st place for "Best S/U," 3rd place for "Best Overall," and 3rd place for "Best TOS Story" in the 2000 Golden O Awards.

Feedback is desired.

They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.

~ Josiah Bailey ~

The Most Forgiven, prologue

Stepping down from the transporter pad, Uhura hefted her duffel onto her shoulder and smiled. "Fancy meeting you here."

The man behind the transporter console sighed heavily. "No offense, lass, but this is the last place I want to be right now. Did ye know that I just bought a boat? She needs a lot of attention, and I'd planned on spending the rest of the week with her."

Her hands on her hips, she said, "Montgomery Scott, I never thought I'd see the day that you would rather be someplace other than on the Enterprise."

"I suppose I can't deny that it's good to be back." A grudging lightness had crept into his voice. "Even if it's just for one last mission. And what a mission! Escorting the Klingons to peace talks. No one can say that we didna go out in a big way."

"Very true. Is Spock here yet?"

"He beamed aboard about five minutes ago."

"Wonderful! I haven't seen him for nearly a month."

"Och, then ye'd best be going." Scotty tilted his head appraisingly. "First, though, tell me something. I couldn't help but notice the look on your face when Spock walked into that meeting today. You were just as surprised as the rest of us. Did ye have no idea what he'd been up to?"

"Nope. I knew that he was working with his father, but no matter how much I pestered him, he wouldn't tell me a thing. You'd better believe that I'm going to get some details now."

"Aye, I'm sure ye will. Hurry on, then. I'll see ye on the bridge shortly."

She left the transporter room and headed toward her quarters. Finally! She'd thought that this moment would never come. The first week Spock had been gone, she'd had fun doing all those little things she liked to do when alone. She'd slept late, explored dusty old bookstores, even guiltily indulged in a big, juicy cheeseburger with greasy fries. It had quickly grown old, however. Funny, how she'd been perfectly content to live a solitary life for so many years. That seemed so long ago now.

Just two days ago, she'd stood at the window of their apartment and thought about how much she missed him. As if on cue, the computer had signaled an incoming call, and she'd been pleasantly surprised to see his handsome face. He had said that he'd picked up on her wistful mood and called to see how she was doing. It had been an interesting conversation. He had even hinted that he might come home soon, but she hadn't realized just how soon.

And boy, she'd had no idea in what manner.

She had almost fallen out of her seat earlier today when he walked from the back of that meeting room. Her mind spinning, she'd listened as he told them all about the disaster on Praxis and the upcoming peace talks with the Klingons. She'd been so proud she could hardly stand it. Of course, she had mixed feelings about dealing with the Klingons, but she was trying not to think about that part right now. Instead, she only wanted to bask in the accomplishments of her husband.

Captain Kirk, though...

She exhaled softly as she thought of the captain's reaction. He'd made no secret of the fact that he wasn't at all pleased about what Spock had done, but she supposed that was understandable. He had a long history with the Klingons, and besides, he, Dr. McCoy, and Scotty had accumulated enough leave that none of them had expected to return to active duty before official retirement. Although she hadn't talked to the captain for weeks, she knew that he was completely caught up in the new ranch he had just bought. He wasn't happy to have been dragged away from it.

She quickened her pace when she neared their quarters, and she swept through the door without breaking stride.

"Spock?"

"Back here, Nyota."

She followed the sound of his voice to the bedroom and launched herself into his arms when he turned to greet her. Caught off-guard by her enthusiasm, he dropped a stack of clothing, but he gamely returned the embrace.

She drew back to look into his eyes. "Oh, I missed you. I'm so glad you're back. And I can't believe what you've done. The Klingons! Spock, how incredible!"

"I find it rather difficult to believe, myself, but Chancellor Gorkon is quite sincere. We have truly reached a crossroads, and I am honored to be a participant." He rested his fingers against her cheek. "I am also quite pleased to finally share this experience with you. I found it difficult to keep the content of my mission a secret."

She smiled. "I'm sure you did. Well, you can tell me now. I want to hear all the juicy details."

"There is not much more to tell you." He released her and knelt to retrieve the items he had dropped. "Gorkon's aide contacted Sarek through unofficial channels, informing him that the chancellor wished to talk. Gorkon could not contact the Federation openly, for his people would have perceived that as a sign of weakness. Therefore, Sarek requested that I open discussions under the guise of the Federation's extending the first olive branch, as it were. The rest, you know."

She chuckled. "Your father sure is subtle, isn't he?"

He straightened. "Not subtle enough. I am very aware that he wants me to join him in a career of diplomacy. He assumes that success in this venture will entice me to continue."

"And?"

He shook his head. "While I have found this experience satisfying, I do not think I would wish to do it permanently."

She moved toward the bed and dropped her duffel next to his. "So, have you given any more thought to what you do want to do after you leave Starfleet?"

"I am still in dialogue with the research department at the University of Stockholm, and I received a missive yesterday from Cochrane Industries. In addition, I have not yet discounted the offer from Dr. McMillan to become her partner on her upcoming project. I have a number of options."

"But none of them really grab you."

He raised an eyebrow at her colloquial speech, but simply responded, "No."

"Well, I'm sure you'll find something interesting. Just make sure it's on Earth. I was really looking forward to chairing that seminar at Headquarters today, and I think I'm going to tell them that I'll accept their offer of a permanent posting."

"Indeed? I believe that is a wise choice, although I must confess I had thought you might change your mind about staying in Starfleet once you learned what the others intended to do with their time."

"You thought I might want to buy a boat or move to a ranch? Not me. I'm too young to retire. I still have a lot I want to do." She moved close enough to wrap her arms around his waist. "You know, speaking of ranches, the captain wasn't very happy to be pulled away from his today."

"The captain was unhappy about a great deal. The ranch was the least of it."

"I know. This is a big opportunity, though. Maybe he'll be able to get past his personal feelings once we're underway."

"That is my hope."

They were quiet for a long moment as they gazed at one another. Finally, she broke the silence.

"I meant it when I said that I want you to stay on Earth. I missed you, Spock. I couldn't stand for these separations to become routine."

"I would not want that either, Nyota. I missed you, too."

Closing her eyes, she tilted her face up to his, inviting a kiss. He didn't disappoint her, his touch gentle as he brushed his lips against hers. She responded by sliding her hands around his neck and pressing herself against him, and the next thing she knew, their soft kisses had flared into a passionate embrace. His body was so warm, so hard, so welcome... She'd literally ached for this, and now that she had him next to her, she didn't want to let him go.

"I'm due on the bridge as soon as I unpack," she groaned.

Running his lips along her jaw, he tickled her ear when he replied, "How long might it take you to 'unpack'?"

"Not long enough." She backed away on wobbly knees. "I want to be with you so bad, but I want it to last. I want us to take our time and savor every moment. I don't want to be in a hurry."

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Of course."

Studying his face, she noticed the flush that colored his skin, the darkness of his eyes, and the fullness of his lips. His body had felt so good next to hers.

"We should wait." She caught her lip between her teeth, then said, "Or we can go for rushed and do it now."

They stared at one another until Spock stepped forward. "I recommend 'rushed.'"

"Oh yes, rushed. Definitely. Rushed."

Reaching for his jacket, she opened it and pushed it off his shoulders. She could feel his hands on her doing the same. She slowed him when he removed her shirt, since she didn't want to wreck her hair, but within moments they tossed the rest of their clothing to the side and threw themselves onto the bed.

She laughed at their haste, but moaned an instant later when she felt his hand between her legs. She knew that she was already very wet from seeing him today after their separation, listening to him speak in the meeting, knowing that it was her husband who had engineered such a stunning triumph, watching his cool composure while thinking of what they would do once they were alone...

She moved against him, throwing her head back with abandon. Yes. This is what she'd imagined during the meeting today, the feel of his strong fingers touching her and exploring her. And in her imagination, she'd pushed him onto his back and straddled him, right there in the conference room with no one else present.

"Touch my thoughts," she whispered. "I have something to show you."

He moved his hand to her temple. "It must be stimulating, judging by your response. I can tell through our bond that you are exceedingly aroused." He found her meld points and swallowed hard. "Ah... yes..."

She smiled at his reaction to the image in her mind. "You were so incredible today, I wanted to jump on you right there."

"So I see." Holding her, he rolled onto his back. "Would you care to demonstrate?"

"Well, first I would have done this." She came to her hands and knees and kissed him, holding him down by his upper arms and carefully allowing only her nipples to brush his chest. "Then, I would have done this." Moving her hand, she grasped him, lowering herself so that just the tip of his erection pressed against her body. "And then..." She smiled, holding his eyes as she teased him, making him wait. "I would have done... this."

She pushed herself back with one smooth motion. Neither of them moved immediately, and she watched him close his eyes as he savored the sensation. Soon, though, she grew impatient and began to rock slowly against him, concentrating on the delicious feeling of his hardness sliding in and out.

He transferred his hands to her hips, urging her to move more forcefully. "Do you often have thoughts such as these during meetings?" he asked, obviously finding it difficult to talk.

She shifted her knees as she responded to his desire to pick up the pace, and suddenly she wondered why she had ever wanted to take it slow. This urgent, almost feverish rush, this blind need—it seemed so appropriate after their long separation. And she loved the sound of their bodies coming together like this: the slapping of flesh against flesh, the heavy breathing, the reflexive little grunts and moans, the creaking of the bed.

She licked her lips and finally answered his question.

"It depends on the subject. Staff..." She paused to gasp for breath. "...doesn't do anything for me. Landing party briefings make me mildly horny. But descriptions of diplomatic encounters with peaceful Klingons, especially when a sexy Vulcan leads the discussion... Oh, oh..."

She dug her fingers into his forearms, arching her back while he pulsated within her. As if from a distance, she heard him groan, and she continued to ride him until his faltering rhythm finally stilled altogether. She opened her eyes to find him watching her.

He took a deep breath. "Perhaps I should not be so hasty to reject a career in diplomacy."

Laughing with delight, she ran her hands across his chest. "I get really turned on by scientific research, too."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "I am pleased to hear that."

She gazed at him for a long moment but finally sighed. "I'd love to stay here, but I suppose that I need to be getting to the bridge." She kissed him and reluctantly climbed off the bed. "What are you going to do now?"

Stretched out on his back, he clasped his hands across his chest. "I am not due on the bridge soon, so first I shall unpack. For both of us."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"It is the least I can do. Then, I believe that I will meditate. Of course, that is assuming I can get up from the bed. I am quite comfortable at the moment."

"You certainly look it." Dressed, she sat down next to him. "Well, I'll see you in a bit. Maybe we can do this again later. I'd still like to take it slow."

He raised an eyebrow. "After this, it might be slower than you intend."

She laughed. "We'll see."

She kissed him again and walked toward the door, but she paused at the last minute to take one more look around their quarters—their home for the last six years. Soon it would be someone else's home. She sighed and stepped through the door.

So much was changing in their lives. After years and years of being in Starfleet together, after countless missions and untold hours on the bridge, they'd all decided to call it quits—not just her and Spock, but everyone. Except for Sulu, who would always be one of them even though he had a command all his own, Uhura alone remained in Starfleet. And she knew that she'd be planetbound from here on out, by her own choice.

Although her breath caught in her throat at the thought of such a drastic change, she found that her nervousness and sense of loss were mixed with a low-key, eager excitement. Facing the future, a new tomorrow, just her and Spock... They could do anything they wanted. She had enough pull that she'd get any posting she desired, and people were practically breaking their door down to get to him. Satisfaction swelled within her—physically, emotionally, mentally, she felt so good.

She nodded politely at the new lieutenant, Valeris, when they passed one another in the corridor, but then had to stifle a chuckle when she realized that the young woman was stopping at their door. Poor Spock—he'd better get dressed, and soon. The mental image of his reaction to being roused so abruptly from post-coital bliss finally caused a laugh to bubble up from deep inside, and she had to hurry around the corner to hide it. Yes, she felt good.

Life was good.

Life was good. Life was good...

End prologue

The Most Forgiven, chapter 1

"Admiral Cartwright," Spock intoned.

As his voice cut through the utter silence on the bridge of the Enterprise, Uhura swallowed past the bile that threatened to rise from her throat. How could everything have changed so much in only a matter of days? She and Spock had been so pleased about his accomplishments, but who could ever have predicted that it would end like this?

This...

This was a nightmare. This couldn't be real. Her devoted, considerate husband stood with his hands on a young woman's face, ruthlessly violating her, taking what he wanted with no thought for anyone else. Those beautiful hands, so gentle when they had last touched Uhura before Gorkon was murdered and everything began to fall apart, were committing such an ugly act now. That incredible mind forced itself into a young woman's psyche, gradually ripping away the terrifying secrets she tried so desperately to hold.

Kirk stood. "Who else?"

"General Chang."

Their voices almost dreamy, Spock and Valeris chanted the name of the second conspirator in unison. Valeris had tried to pull away, but Spock had yanked her toward him, his fingers digging into her flesh. Now, he stripped away not only her barriers, but also her Vulcan dignity. Revulsion and pain twisted the young woman's features, and Uhura belatedly realized that she must have made some noise, herself. Scotty turned to her with open pity, but she couldn't look away from the scene at the front of the bridge long enough to acknowledge his quiet support.

Kirk repeated his demand. "Who else?"

"Romulan Ambassador Nanclus."

"Where is the peace conference?" Kirk tensed. "Where is the peace conference?"

Spock moved his left hand from the back of Valeris' neck to her face, and Uhura's vision swam with unshed tears.

No, Spock. No, no, no. Stop here. Don't do it.

Although she willed him to hear her silent plea, she knew that he was oblivious. She looked to their bond, and she found nothing but cold steel and hard ice, opaque and unreadable. He'd forgotten her, his friends, the bridge crew... All that existed was his quest to set right the sequence of events he'd unwittingly unleashed. And yes, she knew that in a misguided way, he thought that what he was doing was right, but somehow that only made it worse. These actions were not acceptable. They were not logical. Two wrongs did not make a right. He was too angered by the betrayal to see that, however, and he was allowing events to sweep him along as if he had no control over what might happen. He was too consumed with guilt from the mistakes that had sent Kirk and McCoy to Rura Penthe, and he would do anything to set things right again.

Anything.

Valeris cried out as Spock probed ever deeper into her mind, and Uhura tightened her grip on the railing to keep from crying out, herself. This had to end. Stop, stop...

Finally, mercifully, Spock turned away, leaving Valeris trembling and lost. As the Vulcan woman struggled to find her last few shreds of composure, Uhura felt an unexpected wave of sympathy. In the name of the Federation, Valeris had committed unspeakable deeds, but she had just become the victim of another unspeakable deed, one committed by a man who should have been above such an act.

"She does not know," Spock said in a strained voice.

Scotty sighed in resignation. "Then we're dead."

"I have been dead before." Spock walked toward the science station, his face and voice utterly expressionless. He did not meet anyone's eyes. "Contact Excelsior. She will have the coordinates."

Pushing down her roiling emotions, Uhura turned to her board, and in doing so, turned away from Spock—the ruthless stranger she suddenly didn't recognize.

...

Spock sat at his desk and stared blindly at the computer. He had come to his quarters with the intention of searching Starfleet records for signs of additional co-conspirators, but he could not concentrate. His task was most likely futile, at any rate. Admiral Cartwright would not be so careless as to leave discernible traces of his activities, or at least not where they could be located from this distance.

"Computer off. Lights at five percent."

Intending to rise and exchange his uniform for his meditation robe, he instead rested his elbows on the desktop and leaned his forehead against his hands. Admiral Cartwright and his cohorts had been exceedingly crafty, but he, himself, had been stupid. The evidence had been right in front of him all along. Valeris had even tried to tell him of her beliefs, but he had not listened. For that, Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy had almost died. For that, peace might now be an impossibility. For that, he had been forced to—

No. He would not think of what he had done. It had been necessary.

He looked up at a sound from the door and experienced an unexpected surge of gratitude when his wife entered the room. Except for hushed discussions of Kirk's whereabouts and Starfleet's demands that the ship return to dock, they'd been allowed no opportunity for private conversation. He wished very much to be near her, to hear her warm voice, to feel her gentle touch.

He came to his feet and moved toward her. "Nyota."

Her face contorted, she held up both hands as if to ward him off. Clearly struggling to express herself, she finally said, "What have you done?"

He stopped. "I do not understand."

She took another step in his direction. "You used your physical and mental strength to force yourself on that woman. Who are you? My husband would never do something so awful."

Seeking out their bond, he found only a wretched coldness. He shook his head in confusion. "I did only what I had to do."

"What you had to do?" Her voice grew louder. "What you had to do? It was nothing less than... than... rape. It was rape, Spock! How could you?"

"She betrayed the Federation. We must stop the killing here, before it goes any further."

"So that's it? The end justifies the means?" A plea in her eyes, she watched him. "Just explain to me how you thought it was all right to do what you did. Was it because you were angry at Valeris? Was it only because of the mission? Was it because the captain asked you to? Please explain it to me. I want to understand."

He swallowed and dropped his eyes.

"Oh, God." Her tone was suddenly subdued. "That's it. You did it because the captain asked you to."

"I did it because it had to be done."

"You did it because you were angry, and when he asked, you didn't resist." Even though he did not look up, he could tell that she had turned away. "Everything that man has ever asked you to do, you've done," she whispered. "When is it too much, Spock? When does he finally ask too much of you?"

The silence stretched between them until he said, "I do not know what to tell you."

They stood, unmoving, until he heard her footsteps. He finally raised his chin when the light from the corridor spilled into the room, but all he caught was a glimpse of her back before the room grew dark again. His eyes on the closed door, he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Was she simply overwrought because of the mission? Why could she not understand that their only hope of salvaging this situation was to know what the conspirators planned for the peace conference?

Moving slowly through their quarters, he shrugged out of his jacket and replaced it with his robe. He had much to sort out: Valeris' betrayal, the chaos he had unleashed on Kirk and McCoy, and the network of conspiracy that bound the Federation and the Klingons together.

When he stretched out to meditate, however, the images that filled his mind were the defiance and terror in Valeris' eyes as she trembled under his hands only hours before, and the look of revulsion and uncertainty in his wife's eyes just now.

...

Uhura leaned against the corridor wall by their door and closed her eyes. She'd intended to talk reasonably with him, but when she'd walked in to find him sitting in the dark with his head in his hands, she'd suddenly become so angry she couldn't stand it. He'd so clearly needed—and expected—her sympathy, and for some reason that very neediness had set her off. Who was he to expect sympathy after what he had done? Maybe she was being irrational, but she could have handled unemotional logic, cold justification, or even belligerent argument from him. But she hadn't been prepared for his vague, befuddled, and abject refusal to consider that what he had done was wrong.

Straightening when she heard Kirk's voice coming in her direction, she decided that she was going to discuss this with him. She might be making a huge mistake, but so be it. At this point, she didn't give a damn.

Scotty walked beside him. "If that ship really can fire while cloaked, Captain, the Enterprise will be a sitting duck."

"I know, Scotty. Sulu's on his way. We'll just have to hope that he can make it in time. We certainly can't afford to wait on him."

"Aye. I know he'll do whatever it takes to join us. He's..."

Scotty's words trailed away as they both looked up to see her watching them. She could tell by Kirk's expression that he had already picked up on her mood.

"What is it Commander?" he asked. "Has something else gone wrong?"

"I'd like to speak with you alone, Captain." Her voice was unnaturally steady. "Someplace private."

"All right. Let's go to my quarters."

He dismissed Scotty with a nod, and the two of them walked to his quarters. Neither spoke until the door had closed behind them.

"Okay. Shoot," he said.

She held his eyes for a long moment, but her ironclad composure faltered and she glanced away. Kirk took a step in her direction.

"What is it, Uhura?"

Instead of welcoming his concern, she bristled. "How could you have asked Spock to force that information from Valeris?"

He leaned back, obviously surprised by her tone. "Excuse me, Commander?"

"How could you have asked him to do that? Don't you know how abhorrent that is to a Vulcan?"

He matched her steely demeanor. "You were there. We had no other choice. Spock knew that. He didn't question my decision because we both understood our duty."

"Duty?" She practically spat the word. "Is that all it meant to you? Is Spock just a tool for you to use?"

"Yes, actually, in that case, he was. As are all my crew. As they would be to him, if required." His expression grew hard. "Including you."

"So you think that makes it all right? That young woman—"

"You seem to be forgetting, Commander, that your 'young woman' betrayed the Federation."

"That doesn't excuse it! You asked him to rape her, without a second thought." She watched him closely. "Rape. It's an ugly word, isn't it? Did you know that's what it was? Rape? Mindrape. An inexcusable violation. A trespass. Brutality."

"You're out of line, Commander."

She squared her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Captain, but right now I don't care. I can't let this pass without speaking up."

"All right. Let's speak freely, then. You don't like what I did. You're angry. But where's Spock? How does he feel about it? Why isn't he here instead of you?"

She shook her head at the absurdity of his question. "Don't you understand? He'll never question you. If you order him to jump, he jumps. If you tell him to risk his life, consider it done. If you ask him to mindrape a young girl, he acts without hesitation."

She cringed at the tremor that had crept into her voice with that last sentence, but she stood her ground.

"Uhura, you seem to be forgetting that your husband has a mind of his own. Heaven knows that we haven't always seen eye to eye."

"Sure, he'll express his opinion if it differs from yours, but when push comes to shove, has he ever denied you? The worst part is that you knew you'd get what you wanted with just a word. One word! All you had to do was say his name, and it was done."

She paused for his answer, but he clearly didn't have one.

Softening, she said, "He's always been like that with you. He wears rose-colored glasses where you're concerned. Don't you know that he'll refuse to see that what you asked of him was wrong? He blames himself for what happened to you and Dr. McCoy, and he'll act against every belief he's ever held to atone for that."

Kirk took a deep breath. "Uhura, what he did had to be done. You know that."

"I know that what he did could very well destroy him." She was quiet as her words sunk in. "And that it will be on your conscience."

He straightened authoritatively. "I concede that he had to make a sacrifice, but it was in the line of duty. Now we have to ensure that his sacrifice wasn't in vain. I'm due on the bridge, Commander, and so are you."

Clearly, that was the end of the discussion. Letting him see the disappointment in her eyes, she held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

She turned crisply on her heel and left.

...

"Computer. Location of Captain Spock."

"Captain Spock is in his quarters."

Rubbing his face, Kirk walked down the corridor. Although he'd refused to admit to Uhura that she might be right, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what she had said.

Had it been rape? Had he asked too much of his old friend this time? He'd made it clear from the beginning of the mission that he thought Spock hadn't trusted him. Was the mind-meld Spock's attempt to demonstrate loyalty? It was a horrible thought. Had he caused the most steadfast man he'd ever known to feel like he had something to prove?

He signaled his presence at Spock's quarters and waited, but there was no response. Signaling again, he finally told the computer to open the door. If Spock was asleep or in the shower, he'd just ease back out, but he thought it more likely that Spock was ignoring the signal.

He stepped into darkness. "Spock?"

Silence.

Reaching for the environmental controls, he stopped when he heard a subdued voice.

"I prefer it dark."

He frowned and finally realized that Spock was reclining in the meditation alcove just a few steps in front of him.

"Dining on ashes?"

"You were right. It was arrogant presumption on my part that got us into this situation. You and the doctor might have been killed."

Kirk hesitated. He'd never seen his friend like this, almost... depressed. There was no other word for it. Judging by his comment, though, he seemed to be dwelling on the sequence of events that had landed them on Rura Penthe, rather than the scene on the bridge with Valeris. Maybe Uhura was wrong about what truly disturbed him the most.

Forcing a deliberate lightness into his voice, Kirk said, "The night is young."

When Spock didn't answer, Kirk strolled over to the counter and picked up a small cup, casually swishing the contents. Assuming that it held fragrant Vulcan tea, he lifted it to his nose and grimaced when he realized that it held stale coffee. Of course, the lipstick on the edge should have been his first clue that it wasn't something of Spock's.

He glanced over at the very still, very silent figure on the meditation platform. Maybe the best way to reassure a Vulcan would be to use that Vulcan's own words.

"You said it yourself. It was logical. Peace is worth a few personal risks."

He put down the glass, hoping that Spock would pick up on the reference to his sacrifice on the bridge. Still, however, he received no reply.

Pacing back toward the meditation alcove, he continued. "You're a great one for logic. I'm a great one for rushing in where angels fear to tread. We're both extremists. Reality is probably somewhere in between. I couldn't get past the death of my son."

"I was prejudiced by her accomplishments as a Vulcan."

Finally. A response, and one that confirmed Kirk's assessment. Spock was more bothered by his poor judgment of Valeris' trustworthiness than by the mindmeld on the bridge.

Encouraged, he said, "Gorkon had to die before I understood how prejudiced I was."

Meeting Kirk's eyes for the first time, Spock pushed himself to a sitting position. "Is it possible that we two—you and I—have grown so old and so inflexible that we have outlived our usefulness? Would that constitute a joke?"

"Don't crucify yourself. It wasn't your fault."

"I was responsible."

Kirk moved closer to his friend, uncertain what Spock actually meant. Was he referring to the conspiracy? Of course that wasn't Spock's fault. It would be ridiculous to imply anything else. Or was he referring to the trial and subsequent exile to Rura Penthe? Kirk had put himself into that situation, and if anything, it was his fault McCoy got dragged into it, too.

Did he mean the mindmeld with Valeris? Uhura's voice drifted through his mind...

He'll never question you. If you order him to jump, he jumps.

Feeling a twinge in his chest at this thought, Kirk decided to assume that he and Spock were talking about nothing more than Kirk's jeopardy at the hands of the angry Klingons.

"For no actions but your own."

"That is not what you said at your trial."

"That was as captain of the ship. Human beings—"

Spock held his eyes. "But Captain, we both know that I am not human."

"Spock, you want to know something? Everybody's human."

"I find that remark insulting."

Kirk smiled, relieved to hear Spock acting... like Spock. He gestured toward the door with his head. "C'mon. I need you."

End chapter 1