Captain's Log:

Hi, intrepid readers! I thought I'd try my hand at some Trekfic- specifically, the amazing K/S ship. This story is completely finished, so there's no possibility of this fic being abandoned. Hope you enjoy!

All thanks and praise to my Beta, Gryffens, for her excellent grasp of language- and her ability to ensure that my sentences actually make sense.

Disclaimer: Alas, Star Trek is the child of Roddenberry; unless I was a time travelling gender-bender, I could have no claim to it whatsoever. (in Trekverse, that might be a reasonable concept...)

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CHAPTER 1: MIRACLES

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Spock: "Captain, you almost make me believe in luck."

Jim: "Why, Spock... you almost make me believe in miracles."

--A Taste of Armageddon, TOS

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Even when taking into account the infinite complexities of space, Spock couldn't imagine a scenario more surreal than the one he found himself in. By its very nature, space was thriving with mystery, surprises, and even miracles. Spock was not one to believe implicitly in miracles, but that didn't stop contemplating their likelihood. They happened all too rarely in his own experience, he was beginning to find; although, with recent events, maybe the miracle element had been removed, and everything would be somehow dimmer.

He looked down at the flag draped coffin, a slight frown on his normally impassive face. It was hard to believe that this man could be brought down in such a manner... Nero couldn't do it, even when he encountered him twice; black holes and space anomalies couldn't do it; even the forces of gravity couldn't do it. To think that this was it... the bright future that the entire galaxy had predicted, shattered into oblivion by a freak set of circumstances. All which could have been avoided, if...

If only...

"We inter our friend, son and brother, Captain James Tiberius Kirk, into the earth..."

Regret was one of Spock's more human emotions- and one that he wished, beyond all else, he could suppress fully.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

All in all, it was a quiet day on the USS Enterprise. The Bridge was in its usual state of subdued mechanical humming, with only the occasional reassuring beep indicating continuing stability to break the near-silence. The minimum amount of staff was on deck for the shift, many of them merely sitting at their stations and talking quietly amongst themselves or doing menial work and updates on their consoles. Commander Spock, for one example, was trying to manage the sheer overload of paperwork that had backlogged over their two month deployment to the outer systems. Captain Kirk had certainly put a sizable dent in it, but it was left to the half-Vulcan to trawl through the fine-print, the kind of work that only required 10% of his brain but he was more than willing to complete to fulfil his duties and to keep himself occupied. His fingers moved deftly and precisely over the touchpad.

Spock was not adverse to the kind of tranquillity that reigned that day, but his excitable Captain was an entirely different story.

As soon as the silence became oppressive, Captain Kirk had retired to the gym in what was quickly becoming what Spock termed a 'fitness obsession'. When even Scotty had run out of things to rave to the Captain about, it was abundantly clear that this section of their voyage was an unusually quiet one.

As it was, they were between missions; they had carried out their guard duty to the colony vessels travelling to new agricultural planets, and were now essentially twiddling their thumbs until Starfleet designated an equally unchallenging mission. Spock wouldn't say that they were purposely stunting the capabilities of the Enterprise by designating such menial tasks; rather, all had acknowledged that the fleet was seriously depleted. The ship and her crew couldn't always be glamorous and exciting.

Spock sat back in his chair, alert and ramrod straight, reflecting upon the past two months. Since the Nero incident, life had been abnormally quiet in comparison. A few skirmishes with unfriendly planet and vessels, a few diplomatic hiccups, but nothing that the U.S.S Enterprise and her crew weren't completely capable of handling. Commander Spock had assured his Captain that they didn't want that kind of trouble anyway, but Kirk was stubborn in his wish for action, or at least, a measure of meaningful activity.

"Commander Spock, I'm receiving a transmission from Star Fleet Command." Uhura exclaimed suddenly, the news making everyone sit up a little straighter and start paying attention to their surroundings.

"Very well," Spock replied smoothly. "Sulu, contact the Captain and request his presence on the Bridge. Lieutenant Uhura, upload the transmission to my console."

"Yes sir." With a few flicks of her fingers, Spock was able to access the orders on his own screen, which he read with interest.

USS Enterprise

As of the current Stardate at 1400 hours, your assignment is to investigate the status of cargo travelling between the Class 2 Federation planet of Darwyn and the colony of Ternius II. This investigation follows reports of missing crates of essential items and of a major smuggling operation exploiting the transference of such cargo. The entirety of the report and your expected conduct in the undertaking is enclosed.

This mission requires no more than two weeks attention, with Report 23A to be submitted daily.

Admiral Gercelli

Star Fleet Command

The whoosh of the pneumatic doors leading to the Bridge hailed the return of the Captain just as Spock had finished scanning the document. Kirk was still shining from his physical exertions, but once again his irrepressible energy wasn't depleted in any way.

"So, Spock? I hear we have a destination." He flashed a contagious grin and clapped a hand on his Commander's shoulder, seeming to forget once again the 'no-touchy' policy. Although Spock wasn't quite as jumpy about contact anymore, it could still cause discomfort. In this case, however, it was almost reassuring, coming from the Captain.

He returned to the issue at hand. "Indeed, Captain." He motioned to the screen, and Jim leaned in closer to read them over Spock's shoulder. He remained that way for a minute, and Spock could hear his steady breathing just over his shoulder.

"Interesting," He said finally. "Bring up the attachments..."

They discussed the nature of the mission for a few minutes before letting Chekov announce their intentions to the crew. It seemed that a notorious smuggling syndicate, known as the Red Bandits, was active once again. The Federation hired commercial ships to move supplies to the outer colonies, but an inspection upon one of the ships revealed inconsistencies in the books; there were several crates of civilian, government and military supplies missing and unaccounted for. Upon further probing, the practice was revealed to be widespread and quite organised. It was assumed that the Bandits then sold the goods to non-Federation planets for highly inflated prices, in what was undoubtedly a very lucrative exchange. In contrast, the victims often went months without vital food or medicine because of the Bandit's greed.

"The Red Bandits... I am familiar with their record," Spock mused. "They are infamous for their violence and guerrilla tactics."

"Sounds like our kind of enemy," Jim said, in all seriousness. "Let's go get 'em."

"And where would that be, Captain? The whereabouts of the Bandits is unknown." Spock pointed out.

Jim leaned back against the wall with a slight smile on his boyish face. No, not boyish... he had matured since their first meeting, actually wearing his age well. "I bet we can find out."

"Bet how much?" Sulu interjected.

"Gambling is not-" Spock began, but Jim quickly interrupted his undoubtedly moralistic and protocol-quoting lecture.

"Set a course for Ternius II. We'll speak to the crew ourselves, sniff out the rat, and trace it from there." He smirked. "Acquiring information sounds like fun." With that, he adjourned to his chair, Spock recognising the fond glance that he gave it before sitting.

Was there really nothing that could repress that man's spirit? Spock wondered about his Captain's puzzling character often, finding him extremely difficult to read at the best of times. He seemed almost childish in some aspects, but was a fully capable Captain of a sizable crew and an extremely decisive individual. Spock realised early on in their partnership that he had underestimated James Tiberius Kirk, since their first encounter with the Kobayashi Maru scandal and onwards to the final moments of the Nero Incident. He had resolved to tread carefully from that moment on, and try to understand Kirk in his entirety. Spock was analytical by nature, but Kirk seemed to be too unpredictable and complex to unravel the enigma of his character. He was, by far, the most intriguing human he had ever come across in his career. Applying logic to understand emotions was not always effective, as Spock was becoming to comprehend; he would have to apply both his Vulcan sensibilities and his human intuition- a partnership that he found both uncomfortable and seemingly flawed.

In any case, these ruminations were to be kept to himself, and his thoughts were never inquired into by any member of the crew. He was content to observe, record, and hopefully, understand.

"I'm warning you, Mr. Derrida, for the last time... remember our agreement?" Kirk was strangely firm and authoritative as he stared into the eyes of the cringing crewman. They had arrived at the colony, commandeered the latest vessel to arrive, and culled the crew members down into the few that could have conceivably helped the Bandits seize the cargo. Captain Kirk had been very... persuasive... in his methods, whatever they were. Spock did not enquire, and he made sure he was elsewhere whilst the Captain turned his talents onto the unfortunate crewmen.

After leaving the Captain with Mr. Derrida for a few minutes, Spock, Bones and Sulu arrived to see Kirk in action.

"N-no, don't!" The man shrieked as they arrived, his eyes popping and his mop of dark red hair sticking to his forehead in a sudden moment of panic. "I'll tell you!"

"I don't really want to know what Kirk said to him, do you?" Bones murmured to Sulu in a tone of amusement from behind Spock. The room was barely big enough for five people, being a rusty and cramped brig on the transport ship, and the crewmember seemed to shrink in the presence of so many Starfleet officers.

"I don't have any big contacts, just... just the one. Old Harry, in the Abraca Quarter- he got the cargo in his shuttle when we docked. Please, don't... don't..."

To Spock surprise, the man looked straight at him, and he could sense the palpable panic coming off the man in waves as he gaped like a fish out of water. One didn't need to be a telepath to know that he was mortally afraid.

"Not... dear God, he'll take it all!" He shielded his head for reasons that Spock couldn't fathom, but it seemed that he was inherently afraid of his half-Vulcan appearance... fascinating.

"I believe we have enough, Mr. Derrida... now, we'll leave you in the capable hands of the Law Enforcement- who, thankfully, hold better company than I." Kirk smiled in a patronising way, and made his way out of the brig with a slight sideways glance at Spock. The other three followed him out, Sulu staying back to ensure that the local Police were apprised of the situation.

The planet's Capital was a dusty city, relatively new in terms of technology but ramshackle in construction. The streets were narrow and prone to sudden irrational changes in direction, and Spock had to rely on his tricorder relaying directions from the ship for the navigation to direct them to the Abraca Quarter of the city. There was the smell of exotic spices in the air, and the heat was almost perfect for Spock's own physiology. Despite the environment, Spock remained on high alert. Jim tended to attract trouble, so he watched his Captain closely and carefully.

The citizens stared at them openly as they walked down the streets, their clean-cut uniforms making their identities abundantly obvious. Even the hawkers of questionable goods blanched at their approach, and didn't offer them any wares whatsoever. Kirk seemed to be lapping up the attention.

"I love my job," He sighed, but he soon returned to the right mindset for their business. "Commander Spock, when we get to Abraca- Bones, what are you doing here anyway?" He looked at the Doctor as though he only just realised his presence. "I thought I gave you medical logs to complete."

McCoy winced. "I wondered when you'd realise," He said dryly. "I'll just return to the ship, then?"

"Yep. Never shirk from duty, Bones- even the most unpleasant and, quite frankly, mind-numbingly boring ones. We should be back in a few hours, and tell Scotty to keep her in one piece."

As it turned out, their visit to the Abraca Quarter was shorter than expected. Old Harry was shrewd enough to realise that there was no escape for himself, and that resistance would be undoubtedly painful, so he sold out the smugglers soon enough. He directed them to a nearby planet, abandoned since a global war some years previous. Of course, he was still arrested, but he went quietly enough.

"See, Spock? All it took was a little persuasion and an understanding of the criminal mind." Kirk said as they were making their way back.

"Captain, I have one inquiry... how did you convince Mr. Derrida to cooperate?"

Kirk's smile only grew. "There are many rumours about Vulcans, Spock- I merely exploited that fact and assured him that treating with me would be much preferable to you."

Not... dear God, he'll take it all!...

"He assumed I would forcibly extract the information from his mind," Spock quickly realised. "That was underhanded, Captain, but it undoubtedly gave us the required information."

"Thanks, I guess," He paused for a moment. "And call me Jim; being addressed as 'Captain' all the time grates on my nerves, coming from a line of humble farmers and all. Iowa isn't big on decorum, and even Starfleet couldn't take that out of me."

It was a direct order, but Spock would have responded to a request with equal willingness. "Very well... Jim."

It was dusk by the time they arrived back at the ship, the sun setting quickly on the alien planet. The twin moons provided enough light for them to walk by, washing out the colours and deepening the shadows as the two companions walked together in silence.

There was an impromptu meeting in the Recreation Room that evening, for all the senior officers and heads of department not on duty. Jim took his customary place at the front of the room, jumping up onto his chair in a most dangerous manner in order to address the assembled crew. From Spock's position, Jim seemed untouchable, standing proud against the backlight and surveying his crew with a keen and careful eye. In a clear voice, Jim summarised his findings for them, and they all agreed that visiting the planet that Old Harry mentioned, Zersaal, would be logical.

Business finished, Sulu and Chekov engaged in a spirited game of darts, Uhura discussed the finer points of alien language and linguistics with an enraptured technician, and Jim teased Bones about whatever was on his mind. It was at times like this that Spock would usually retire, but he didn't that night. He found that, in observing their behaviour, certain facts came to light.

Chekov was left handed, at least at certain sports.

Jim was allergic to many foods.

Bones was unsympathetic of this fact.

Uhura was interested in Ikkir poetry.

Uhura... they had parted ways amicably a few weeks ago, and she seemed to be holding up well. Spock himself knew that it had been wrong to continue their relationship when he was unsure of his affections, and she had understood completely. They remained friends, and she had, so far, been the only human on the ship to try and connect with him in any meaningful sense. That, in part, was one of the issues; he was unsure how to act under her interest. Although he knew her inquiries were merely friendly and expressed in a genuine wish to know more about him, Spock found that he didn't have all the answers. He was entirely unsure of himself since the destruction of Vulcan, and it unsettled him to no end. Uhura had reminded him that he was isolated from most beings in the galaxy, and that wasn't an easy burden to share. She had understood his need, and gracefully gave him the space he needed. He was grateful for her attentiveness and friendship, which was rare on the Enterprise.

The one he had forged with Jim was similar in some respects, but entirely different in others. Thy had developed a rather strange relationship; apart from their usual roles as Captain and First Officer, Jim often talked to him on a friendly level, in a manner that he addressed people like Dr. McCoy and Admiral Pike. Spock was surprised to find that Jim often sought out his companionship, and his opinion, when it was often wildly different from Jim's own. It was as though he was deliberately inciting debate, trying to find holes in Spock's arguments in such a manner that he found it difficult to ascertain Jim's purpose. It was on every subject imaginable; Starfleet, alien races and relations, human and Vulcan nature, the mission at hand, anything that inflamed his imagination at that moment. It was not often that his own points remained valid at the end of their discussions, but he did have his moments. Spock found that he was beginning to enjoy the stimulation this provided; his ideas were fresh, unlike those of 'learned' Vulcans and Starfleet gurus, and he could relate to them with ease. In the end, being correct wasn't the only benefit of their discussions- they slowly discovered more about each other's ethics and perspectives, which varied enormously.

Yes, the Captain had certainly risen to the expectations of his First Officer, and looked set to challenge them again at every opportunity.

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