#Vulcan High Command

[spockvarietyhour]

Opposing fleets, "Kir'shara"

[divine-bloodlines]

Do you think fullblooded Vulcans on human ships are considered wild hedonists

[andypantsx3]

I like to think that once you’re given command of your own ship shouto discreetly yet relentlessly petitions star fleet to be assigned to your crew. Especially because he doesn’t trust or want anyone else to look after you the way he can 🥹🥹

YES YES YES!! Should we make him son of the Vulcan First Minister, who's rebelled against his father's ideas of what is proper by joining Starfleet (a la Spock)?

He's always rejected his connection to Vulcan high government and walked his own path, but he's just desperate enough to get to you that when at first his petition is rejected, he subtly and very neutrally reminds Starfleet leadership of who his family is. And oh would you look at that seems like your ship is in need of a new CMO as the old one is mysteriously being transferred out, crazyyyy coincidence.

[mameeta]

So...why am I not seeing more Spirk<=====>Jayvik comparisons on here?

I am nowhere near as knowledgeable as others on here, but I am going to take a crack at it and if someone else can go deeper tag me because I would love to read it.

Ok we got the reserved scientist (Spock and Viktor), who are low key outcasts due to the nature of their birth (Viktor was born sickly and a cripple and Spock is half human). They are both undeniably brilliant and gained entry into institutions that typically would not have allowed them entry (Viktor is from Zaun and Spock is the first Non-human (He is half human, half Vulcan with the appearance of being Vulcan) to be admitted into Star Fleet (Tapol was not a student of Star Fleet Academy but was their for its inception).

Then we have two charismatic, hard working, brilliant men who are smarter than people give them credit for and both have reputations for being himbos that is actually unearned lol. And both are amazing engineers (Kirk was specialized in engineering before going on the command track, someone correct me if I am wrong, like I stated earlier I am not an expert.) These two, while having other obligations, would like nothing more then to hang out with their science buddy. They would also go to extremes to save their science soulmate.

Like intergrate a dangerous magical item into their body to save their life. Or complete a coup to ensure that nothing and no one sends in the way of finding a cure.

Or going through hell and high water to find their science buddy soulmate after a near death (actual death) incident and bring them home. Or blow up the very ship they commanded together to ensure that nothing and no one would get in the way of him finding his friend.

And both were thoughtful enough to bring a blanket to cover their naked friends body.

Ok that's what I got. Any other takers?

[mylordshesacactus]

Breaking News: Vulcan High Command Announces First Contact With Earth

TV-MA, Viewer Discretion Is Advised (Explicit Sexual Content)

[sachiko6243]

Fuck me, while I taste your fingertips

Summary: The title says it all

Word count: 2827

Warnings: pure smut, soft to rough, made for my finger and hand fixated vulcan loving people ;) (aka: @mystery-star)

Minors DNI !!! this contains adult content

I was just walking out of the shower, my towel still wrapped around my body, the hair twisted into a sloppy bun on the back of my head. Spock was sitting on his desk, working down some files on his PADD. I had been teasing him the whole day to the point where he had looked like he was about to snap any moment. To my surprise he kept his demeanor pretty well and only those who knew him very well, were able to see, what was really going on inside the Commanders brain.

Knowing he was probably trying his hardest distracting himself with anything, I sneaked up behind him, putting my lips right next to his ears: “I need you.” Was all I said and he immediately tensed up. Taking a deep breath, he turned off his PADD and rolled his chair back a bit. His eyes were trained on my body, looking me up and down with a hungry look on his face.

I tried my best to not get too distracted by the things it did to me, keeping my eyes trained on his face. “Remember what I told you earlier?” I asked, waiting for him to respond.

“You have asked me a lot, today. Please elaborate further to which event you are referring.” He pressed out, his voice just as tensed as his body.

“I think you know.” Letting go of my towel, I grabbed his hands, slowly starting to play with his fingers. His reaction was instant. He let out a low moan, sinking back into his chair, half closed eyes watching my fingers play with his.

“T’hy’la…” His voice was husky and he stopped talking, when I pressed light kisses on his fingertips. Taking the last step between his legs, I put his hands on my hips, forcing him to look me in the eyes. “Do you trust me?” My question had him raise his brow. “You are my wife; it would be illogical of you to assume I do not.” His answer made me chuckle lightly. “Good thing I learned to translate your words to what they actually mean.”

Sinking to my knees I never let him out of my sight. As if on que, he spread his legs further apart, making it easier for me to kneel between them. Out of reflex, his hands went to my head, but I held them down. “No, not today. I want to take care of you.” He immediately obeyed my command, resting his hands loosely on his thighs.

I let my fingers run over his thighs, his lower stomach, making him shiver and twitch in anticipation, before I gave in. Slowly opening his belt and pulling down the zipper. When I freed his member, I pressed a soft kiss to the tip, eliciting a low moan from Spock. “Please…” He begged, but I didn’t give in. Planting soft kisses along his shaft and sweetly licking his tip, until he was panting above me.

Then I stood up, holding him down by his shoulders, when he tried to reach for me. “Relax.” I climbed onto his lap, lining up his cock with my entrance, slowly sliding down on him. Had I not been horny all day, that maneuver would have been nearly impossible. Because unlike what Spock seemed like on a day to day basis, this man was packed. And when I finally bottomed out on him, I let out a deep moan, holding onto his shoulders to gain some control back. Instantly his hands gripped my hips, rolling them along his lap, earning a high-pitched yelp from me. Fighting against the hot waves starting to rise in my body, I shook my head: “No. Give me your hand.”

Spock looked at me confused, but complied. And when I led his right hand to my lips, the realization dawned on his face.

I started with kissing his palm down to every finger, before I took his middle and ring finger in my mouth, wetting them with my saliva. Before was even able to fully take them down my throat his head rolled back, the grip of his left hand growing harder on my hip. It was working.

Sucking on his long digits, I let my tongue circle around them, like I was giving him a blowjob. I switched between his fingers. Changing the speed and depths I took them into my mouth with. And the longer I sucked on his fingers, the more agitated his breathing became until he was panting again. That’s when I decided to give him the last bit. Letting my right hand wander to his ear, I softly stroked the outer shell of it. And as soon as I touched his ear, he bucked up underneath me, forcing his cock deeper inside of me, a loud moan rolling through his chest. I let his hand go with a soft plop, reaching for the other one, repeating what I was doing.

His face was covered in a soft shade of green, the tip of his ears painted a flashy dark green. I was watching intently, how his mouth shivered, quiet Vulcan curses flowing from his lips. His whole body was tensed, his hand gripping my body tightly as if he needed to steady himself on something. “T’hy’la…” He breathed out, opening his eyes. And the look he gave me, said everything I needed to know. He was close, begging me to come.

I took his fingers down my throat as deep as I could, simultaneously clenching around his cock and stroking his ears in the most sensual way I could. That’s when it happened. With a loud moan ringing through the room, he came. I could feel his cock twitch deep inside of me when he shuddered underneath me. The feeling of hot seed shooting up my core, filling me up. It was heavenly seeing him come undone like that.

He pulled his hand out of my mouth, grabbing me and pulling me flush against his chest. His grip was hard but I liked how it made me feel even closer to him. It took him quite some time to calm his breathing to a point, where he was able to talk again. “What… Why?” Was all he was able to press out, making me smile. It didn’t happen often, for Spock to be out of words, but when it did, it was the cutest thing I could imagine.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Why not? I know how sensitive your hands and ears are and what it does to you, seeing me fidget my fingers all day, so I wanted to do you a favor. It was kind of mean of me singing that song, while literally performing finger porn right in front of you. I am actually quite surprised you made it that long without pulling me into the next room and fucking me senseless.” I smirked.

He raised an eyebrow, now almost back to his calm and collected self. “You did that on purpose?” I just laughed. “For what other reason would I be singing ‘Talking bodies’? I mean the line she sings the most is literally ‘fuck me while I taste your fingertips’. So that just got me thinking of a new way to please my husband.”

His eyes went dark, hearing what I shamelessly admitted. “You want me to fuck you, while you suck on my fingers?” I nodded, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks. He just tilted his head, obviously stuck in his thoughts. “Then why did you not let me touch you and refrained me from moving one bit? I believe this was not as pleasurable for you as it was for me, giving the fact you are a human.”

I just shrugged. “I don’t mind it.” But my words visibly made him upset. Getting up with a low growl, he pressed me against the closest wall: “Do you think I will let my wife go to bed without giving her at least one orgasm? I am not some miserable human man, who is incapable of pleasuring his woman.”

His words made me rip my eyes open, staring at him like a deer in headlights. “What are you…” I didn’t need to finish my question, because the look he gave me, mixed with the fact, I could feel his cock hardening inside of me, told me everything I needed to know. I was in for a long night…

As soon as my back hit the wall, his lips were on mine, kissing me with such force, it left me breathless. The rough fabric of his clothes rubbed against my skin, my nipples growing hard to the touch. Him still being in his clothes caused something to stir in my mind, I didn’t know existed. It was a deep longing and satisfaction for his dominance, which only took him seconds to realize. Kissing down my chin until his lips caressed my earlobe he whispered: “Tell me,” His voice was hoarse. “Tell me what you want.”

I could feel myself grow wetter at his words, relishing in the hard touch of his hand on my breast. “I…” My body betrayed me, not letting me speak, when his thumb stroked over my hard nipple. “I… I want…”

“What, rom ko-kan. Speak to me and I will oblige.” He groaned; face deeply tugged into my neck. Taking my hands out of his hair, he started to rid himself from his shirt. Now he was just in his dress pants. Pinning my hands above my head with one arm, he intertwined our fingers and as soon as he did it, his feelings crashed into my head. “Please…” I whimpered, rolling my hips as much as the position of my being pinned against the wall let me.

Spock kept on playing with my breast, looking at me with a wolfish grin, while his hips kept me pinned. “Please what, t’hy’la?” The teasing side of him breaking through. It was obvious he wanted me to beg for him and if it would have been any other day, I probably would have put up a fight, testing his patience. But not today. My whole mindset was taken over by my husband, no other thought strong enough to cross my mind. He was all I wanted and the whole day I had trouble concentrating on anything else than him. I was putty in his hands.

And when his free hand wandered from my breasts to my clit, I reared up in a sinful moan. The jolts of pleasure ripping through my body in hot shots, while he teased me mercilessly. I tightened the grip of my legs around his waist, pulling him in even deeper. Spock sighted, giving me another soft kiss on the lips. “I take that as my answer.” He groaned, his hips pulling back and snapping forward again.

“Oh God yes…” I breathed out, arching my back to be closer to him. It was all the encouragement Spock needed, releasing my hands, he grabbed my hip to guide my movements better. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying my best not to claw at his back. “I don’t mind it.”

“What?” I was confused, far to caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I don’t mind you marking me.” He repeated, tilting his head back, to take a better look at me. I raised my eyebrows, biting down on my lips, when his cock brushed against the spongy spot deep inside of me. “But the others will see during training.” I argued, my voice shuddering with pleasure. Now he was wearing a sly smile on his face. “I hope they will.” Was all he said, before he bent down, pressing his lips onto my nipple.

“Spock… Please!” I cried out, not caring about a single thing in the world. I could feel my orgasm nearing. The hot waves that started deep in my core now growing to a big tsunami threatening to drown me at any given moment. “Go on, t’hy’la.” He encouraged me, wrapping a hand in my hair and pulling my head against his shoulder.

“Cu-Cumming!” My moan turned into a cry, as my body shuddered. Bright lights exploding behind my closed eyes.

“That’s it. Be a good girl, make a mess on my cock. You are doing so good for me.” He cooed, lips brushing over my ear while he spoke. His praise striking me deeply. But instead of slowing down like he normally did, to give me some time to regain strength and consciousness, he kept his pace. “Spock… I cant… please…”

He just shook his head. “You really think I would let you go this easy? Teasing me all day with those filthy fingers of yours. You know what it does to me, when you wear those rings. When the jingle like that with every move, sparkle in the lights of the bridge. And your earrings… I should have known better when I married you. But those piercings you have… they make me want to ravish you, just by looking at you. Do you even know what a whore you are considered on Vulcan? Eight piercings and at least 5 rings on each hand….”

I let out a soul shattering moan, clawing on his back, not caring that my long nails probably let some red scratches behind. Spock cussed at the pain, but his thrusts didn’t falter for one second. “You are the most beautiful and filthy woman roaming the universe and I am so fucking lucky to call you mine. But I will not let you get away with teasing me like that. You hear me?” He grabbed my chin, shaking my head softly.

“Yes, Commander. I am sorry. I will stop wearing so many rings and piercings.” I cried out, tears forming in my eyes from the overstimulation he forced me through. “Oh, hell you wont.” He growled. “You will wear them. Understood? I want you to look like a whore, because you are my whore and nobody else will see you like I do. But just remember if you ever try to tease me like that again, I will show no mercy. I wont wait until our shifts are over. I will bend you over the next desk I see and you can pray that nobody walks in on us, is that clear?”

“Yes Commander!” I yelped. My body shaking in pure bliss as another wave of an orgasm initiated itself deep inside of me. It wasn’t until now, that I realized, that his movements got sloppy. His breathing was rigid, sweat dripping from his forehead. A look of determination present on his face. “Fuck.” He cussed, a rare occurrence for him to do, but when he did it, it send butterflies of pure filth down my stomach.

Catching my lips in another kiss, he bit down on my lower lip, leaving it sore and slightly bruised. It wasn’t until then, that I realized with what force Spock had pressed me against the wall. I was sure that I would be sore the next morning, but I didn’t care. My mind only caring about the jolts of pleasure racing through my body. My moans were muffled by his kisses as my legs started to tremble again, fighting against his hips, muscles growing tired. “Don’t stop.” I pleaded, my grip on his shoulders growing harder.

“Never.” Was all Spock pressed out, his hands gripping my hip so hard, it was on the edge of painful. “Come for me now!” He ordered, his thrust growing rougher. Without much time for my brain to react, my body surrendered, shattering into thousands of tiny splinters. I let my head fall back against the wall, a loud and sinful moan ringing through the room. My body shaking violently, as he growled and thrusted deep inside of me for the last time.

He shivered between my legs, as his orgasm washed over him. My spasming walls milking him for the second time this night. And when his throbbing cock slowly stopped twitching, he pulled me into a deep hug. His breath fanning over my neck, while he held me in his warm embrace. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind far enough to speak. “I love you.” Was all I was able to mumble, my tongue still heavy from my orgasm, but Spock seemed to understand.

“Nash-veh ashaya du, t’nash-veh k’diwa.” He whispered into my ear, while slowly walking towards the bathroom. We were still wrapped up tightly into each others arms and I could feel my slick and his seed slowly trickling out of me. And when he carefully lifted me up and set me back onto my feet, my legs gave in underneath me. He was just quick enough to catch me. “Let me run you a bath, t’hy’la. You are sore and the warmth will help your muscles relax.”

For everyone wondering what on earth rode me to write this:

You are either welcome, or I am sorry for ruining this song for you 😂

[gaykarstaagforever]

Yeah sure, Spock, Vulcan High Command had NO IDEA the Romulans were Vulcans who had fled the adoption of Surak's philosophical revolution.

That didn't even happen that long ago for them, relatively speaking. Vulcans live to be 200. In canon, that means the Surak thing only happened like 9 or 10 Vulcan generations ago.

Unless their lifespans were a lot shorter at the time of Surak, and the 200 year thing is a new technological-derived thing, like humans living to be 150. (Fun fact: Picard is supposed to be like 65 in TNG, which is their 40).

And if the Romulans split off 2000 years ago, and their lifespans didn't increase, then that's awhile for them. But they would still very much know they came from Vulcan. Why wouldn't they target it for conquest once they set out to build their empire? It wasn't exactly a galactic powerhouse before the founding of the Federation.

I think, once the Human / Romulan War broke out, and the Vulcans realized humans couldn't see what the Romulans looked like, they just told everyone to shut the hell up about it.

And understandably so, because as soon as the TOS crew sees Vulcans and Romulans look the same, that one Ricky on the bridge immediately starts questioning Spock's loyalty.

...Granted, if he knew about Vulcans and Romulans being related and didn't say anything about it, I'd be like "Hey dude, what the fuck?" too.

[shanastoryteller]

Star Trek please!! Happy Halloween

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Admiral Archer is unwilling to take his rescission at face value and demands a more complete explanation. To Spock's relief, and the gathered students' disappointment, he's willing to hear it in his private office.

Captain Pike slips in behind them, which gets him an irritated scowl but the admiral allows it. Spock is only marginally surprised by this. Admiral Archer and Captain Pike are known to be on good terms and James Kirk had entered the academy on Captain Pike's recommendation.

"Explain," Admiral Archer demands.

Spock hesitates.

Starfleet is of course aware of the events that took place on Tarsus IV and so they must be equally aware of James Kirk's role in it. While Admiral Archer certainly has the clearance to know the particulars, it does not mean that he does, and Spock is loathe to reveal these particulars, even to someone who could find them out himself. Additionally, Captain Pike does not have the necessary clearance, and while he does not think that James Kirk would allow his presence if he did not wish him to know, or had not already told him, Spock cannot be certain and there is no way for him to ask.

"Commander," Admiral Archer snaps. "Is this a joke to you?"

"No, sir," he answers. He doesn't find any of this funny at all.

James Kirk steps up next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. Spock resists the urge to flinch and shoots him a disapproving look. The contact is not skin on skin, but any casual contact is discouraged. James Kirk is very well aware of Vulcan customs.

Then again, his point of contact for Vulcan culture is Sybok. His brother had been significantly more... affectionate after Tarsus IV. Spock wonders if that's something he picked up from his association with James Kirk.

"It's alright," James Kirk says warmly. "Spock, tell Admiral Archer whatever you want him to know."

He doesn't remove his hand. Human's run hot, their physiology not perfectly calibrated to survive in the deep heat of the desert, but even still James Kirk's hand feels unusually warm.

"I was unaware of Cadet Kirk's background with facing impossible odds when I made my accusation," he says. "Having been made aware of it, my perspective has shifted. Cadet Kirk does not allow rules or the constraints of logic prevent him from doing what he believes must be done. This was what he was demonstrating by bypassing and reprogramming my system."

He can feel James Kirk staring at him but he doesn't take his eyes of Admiral Archer.

Admiral Archer frowns. "You didn't know he was on Tarsus IV with your brother?"

That he already knows is a source of relief. The incredulity is less.

"Spock had exams the time I went to Vulcan," James Kirk says. "Sybok loves an excuse to go off-planet, so we usually meet up on Earth. Spock and I have never met before." He turns to him with a grin that Spock is distinctly uncomfortable having aimed in his direction. "I should have known the second I saw you. You look a lot like your mother."

Being compared to one's mother on Vulcan is a high compliment. Or it's supposed to be. Spock's had those same words hurled at him before, but it was with cruelty, as a way to demean him rather than honor the woman who bore him.

James Kirk say the words easily, exactly as they are intended to be spoken.

"You're driving me to drink," Admiral Archer says.

Spock has no idea how to appropriately respond to that.

"What about me? You're driving me to drink," James Kirk says, "which is driving Bones to as of yet unknown heights of nagging. The stress isn't good for him but he keeps threatening me with hypos when I tell him that. Can't I just be concerned for my friend?"

That is not an appropriate response on top of being incomprehensible.

Admiral Archer rubs his forehead. "Chris."

"Sir," Captain Pike returns, grabs the back of James Kirk's jacket, and hauls him out of there like grabbing a wayward kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Spock stands there, unsure, until Admiral Archer glances up and says, "You too, Commander. I'll consider this matter closed."

He nods, "Thank you, Sir," and steps outside to an empty hall. Captain Pike and James Kirk are nowhere to be seen.

Once he returns to his quarters, he video calls his brother.

He doesn't pick up.

Typical.

[startrek-eridani]

Saavik, Captain of the U.S.S Eridani

Saavik was born approximately in the year 2265, on the Romulan colony of Hellguard, a mining planet of arid temperature also hosting the site of technological development of a bioweapon. The leaders of the colony intercepted four ships from the Vulcan Science Academy, and their crew were brought to Hellguard to serve as test subjects for the weapon, as well as provide a new generation of subjects through their rape. Being half-Vulcan, half-Romulan and hailing from such a violent planet where murder and famine ran rampant would most likely have meant a death sentence for Saavik and the other hybrid children of the colony, until Spock and the Vulcan high council learned of it and deployed a rescue mission.

At about 9 or 10 years of age when she was rescued, Saavik already had a keen and curious mind, and after saving Spock’s life one night in Hellguard’s desert and briefly bonding with him on the subject of stars, with Saavik claiming their ownership, she refused to trust any other Vulcan adults that were a part of the rescue mission. Spock convinced her to rejoin the Vulcan vessel by promising to take her to her stars, and secretly trading her knife with his tricorder, promising to keep the weapon that kept the child alive safe on his person while allowing her to embark.

After this rescue, Spock took it upon himself to raise Saavik, as she refused to take the DNA tests that would have allowed the Vulcan Council to trace back her remaining family, as she knew that it would mean to be taken from Spock’s care. While spending a year with Spock on the planet Dantria IV, Saavik’s interest for stars and space travel only increased, with Spock often using mission logs and stories of the Enterprise’s crew to impart life lessons to Saavik. In that time, she learned proper language, Vulcan philosophy and the rudiments of logic, before continuing her education on Vulcan while living with Ambassador Sarek and the lady Amanda once Spock returned to the Enterprise. Already, she wished to enroll in Starfleet when she would be old enough.

In 2281, Saavik entered Starfleet Academy as a first year cadet, aged approximately 16 years old. Her hybrid heritage was kept relatively secret, with only a few select admirals being aware of it, but considering her grades and recommendation letter from Spock, it wasn’t a problem for her admission. During that first year, she notably joined the cadet baseball team as pitcher, as well as participating on a highly classified mission that brought her and Spock back to Hellguard one last time. After these events, she pursued her studies in the command track, meeting Joanna McCoy in 2282 while she joined Starfleet Medical to get her xenomedicine and space travel formations.

In 2285, at around age 20, she was in her last year as a cadet, and after taking the Kobayashi Maru test, and succeeding in the test of character, she took part in the training cruise led by Captain Spock, and later Admiral Kirk as a Lieutenant junior grade. When Khan Noonien-Singh began his revenge and search for the Genesis device, she participated closely in the event of the battle, also taking part in the landing party to Regula 1. After it’s detonation and Captain Spock’s death and subsequent funeral, Saavik was transferred to the Grissom as a lieutenant, albeit now no longer junior-grade, implying a field promotion for her implication in the event of the Battle of the Mutara nebula and preceding it. As Grissom inspected the Genesis planet, she worked mainly as a science officer, and beamed down to the planet with David Marcus when life signals that could be associated with Captain Spock were detected on the surface. The pair discovered the young, regenerated body of Spock, yet it lacked its mind and spirit, as it was with Dr. Leonard McCoy. Saavik had to meld with the young Spock when he began experiencing severe pains she wrongly associated with Pon Farr at first, but were in fact the results of his telepathic centers lacking the stability of familial and amical bonds, these bonds having been broken by his death and remaining with his mind and spirit out of his body. The telepathic centers send painful telepathic nerve input through his body, aggravating his already painful aging along the surges of the Genesis planet. Klingons in search of the Genesis later ambushed them and after David’s heroic sacrifice to save Saavik from Kruge’s order to kill one of the prisoners, she melded with him, accidentally creating a sibling bond between them while also saving his life. After the fal-tor-pan, Saavik remained on Vulcan for a year, mainly to watch over David as he recovered and keep him company, as his state was too fragile to travel back to Earth for a long time.

Following that year of sabbatical off-fleet, Saavik returned to San Francisco, where she had to argue with Starfleet Academy admissions for them to allow David Marcus to enter the school for command, field science and space training and then the fleet. The Admiralty eventually allowed it, but it was made clear that anything that could go wrong with David within the fleet could be of consequences to Saavik’s career.

Saavik was then assigned once more as a lieutenant, this time on the U.S.S Agincourt, and served as helmsman, tactical officer and sometime navigator, as needed be. Her captain appreciated her efficiency, and in 2287, when now once more Captain Kirk requested for her transfer at the helm of the Enterprise-A after Hikaru Sulu’s departure to command the Excelsior, she wished her good luck and many successes. She then also earned the rank of lieutenant-commander along with a full helmsman task.

Saavik remained aboard the Enterprise-A until 2289, when the post of First Officer of the Eridani opened and fleet command decided to promote her once more, this time to commander. She served on the Eridani for six years under captain Bowman, until he decided that it was time to retire once the ship returned to Space dock for maintenance and updates.

As Eridani was planned to go back for a five-years mission in deep space, Saavik was seen as the best candidate to take on command of the ship, being one of the officers serving on it for the longest time and having shown a neat track record. Saavik was made captain in 2296, at approximately 31 years old, making her in her time, the youngest Starfleet captain, beating her former mentor James T. Kirk by 2 years.

Saavik’s captaining style was influenced by her use of logic and reason, but considering how important her survival instinct has been in her youth, she didn’t shy away from following her instincts. Her knowledge of ships, strategies, weaponry and scientific instruments from the Federation and out of it was extensive, as well as her knowledge of norms and regulations. Her service under James T. Kirk, namely during the training cruise, taught her about the importance of knowing when to bend the rule. Despite these capacities and Starfleet command’s trust in her, she often wondered if she is good enough to be a captain, and hoped that she would be making her mentors proud.

Saavik doesn’t express her emotions a lot, but Spock having met V'ger before rescuing her and her many years serving among humans taught her how important emotions, feelings and connections to others are. She valued her close friends, namely David Marcus and Joanna McCoy, but also tried her best to be available to subordinates and bond with her department heads and crew, as much as the chain of command allowed. Despite all of that, she struggles with opening up to others about her fears or deeper insecurities, being a part of why she had a hard time falling into a rhythm with her First Officer at first, even if she was supposed to rely on him.

[moonlightshaiku]

Oops!

Spock x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: second hand embarrassment, puke

Ao3: N/A

Notes:

I just like the idea of accidentally giving spock a vulcan kiss, okay????

Tag List:

You knew that Mccoy's response of "Well be more social, then," was a result of him being busy. Not paying attention. But, you'd taken it to heart.

Being alone in your room so often had tanked your mental health. Introverted or not, part of "self care" is letting out your thoughts and feelings.

You can't help but think that self care is too complicated. Hygiene in itself is a fifty point list.

The best plan you had was to introduce yourself to someone. That in itself is difficult. There are too many options and techniques.

It was hard when it was just humans—or at least, mainly humans—back on Earth. But in the Enterprise? With even more races and cultures? Squeezed in? Together?

You enter the lift, blandly speaking out your destination. It's only when you notice the shoes next to you, shining, that you realize you have a chance to just— do this. Get it over with.

The anxiety swells in your throat, and you can't help but think it's not worth it. It'll take so much effort, and if you don't say anything, they'll never know.

"Good morning!" You chirp, before you can put to much thought in. It's much more gruff than you meant. You realize, as you swallow, that this is the first time you've spoken today.

You almost wonder if they're going to reply, but then you see a hand.

It barely takes a second to connect the dots. A handshake! Easy.

In your excitement at the ease of this venture, you bring your right hand to meet their left—and—oh.

Wrong hand. Your hands are touching. Theirs is straight, yours across it. Your ring and little finger are touching the side of their hand, your thumb tucked over their's.

You glance up at them, you don't make eye contact.

Your first two fingers presses against their last.

His last. His last two fingers.

He's male.

"Oh sorry, wrong hand!"

A Vulcan male.

He's Spock.

"Oh shit."

You jerk your hand back.

"The crude wording is not needed, Lieutenant-Commander."

"Spocckkk." You draw out through your teeth, voice high pitched.

"Yes?"

The doors open, no one is there.

"I am. Fuck, I am sorry. It wasn't— fuck, sorry."

The door closes. The lift remains still.

"I didn't mean to—" you take a breath. "It wasn't my intention to—" you pause.

His eyebrows raise, your heart beats faster.

Can he report you for harassment over this? It was just a handshake— be pretty fucked up if he could.

It would be pretty fucked up if he couldn't, too. Damn.

He probably should report you.

He won't.

"Kiss you?"

The words feel like bile in your mouth.

Or are you about to puke?

"That's not a question. I did not mean to phrase that as a question." You attempt to repair quickly. "I did not want to kiss you."

Oh that sounds plan rude!

"Or, er— you know what I mean."

You blink at him. How long have you been talking?

"Are you done, Lieutenant-Commander?"

You stay quiet, and after a few moments, you realize that it's a genuine question.

"You can— you can call me Doctor. And yes. Sorry."

He nods. "Doctor. It was a mistake. It is of no consequence, and does not alter my opinion of you."

You nod, anxiety not fading. You do, however, remember to breathe.

"Can I make it up to you?" Is your timid reply. You find that Spocks eyebrows can reach impressive heights.

"I suppose so. However, I do not see a reason that 'making it up to me' is needed."

You let out a breathy chuckle after a long moment of silence, and it does good to ease the tightness in your chest.

"Okay." You breathe. "When... do you have time?"

Spock doesn't take any time to think. "Tonight would be sufficient."

You nod. "My quarters."

He nods.

"Okay, you'll probably have to add another bead, so it'll fit. Let me—" you shift closer to him, taking a look at the bracelet in his hand. "—look at it."

It's only slightly too small for him, now. He'd decided to use the small glass bead in an elaborate pattern of rust, royal blue and copper. You had used the large plastic beads, and jokingly put an S bead on the bracelet. Baby blue.

"I do not see the point in making bracelets, Doctor."

You laugh. He's been happily putting beads on a string. He'd taken around ten minutes just choosing colours.

"Only idea I could come up with, really. Part of human culture."

You lean over, shoulder bumping his. "Okay, that looks good. Can I check it?"

Spock's eyebrow twitches. "Yes. That is agreeable."

"Alrighty." You gently grab each end of his bracelet, and he sticks his hand out. You bring the bracelet up, cupping his wrist like a U.

"Huh." You huff, scooting forward. "Okay, yeah, that's good. Want me to tie it?"

You glance up, making eye contact with Spock. The green of his face makes your eyebrows crease, but his face stays impassive.

He nods.

You promptly begin tying the bracelet, tearing your gaze away from his.

Once you have it double knotted, you reach over to the table, retrieve the scissors, and grab his hand.

Once you've snipped the excess, you hide the knot under a bead.

"Doctor."

You hum. "Yes?"

When looking to Spock, you are met only by his unwavering stare and green cheeks. No words.

Your gaze travels down, your hand holding his.

"Oh fuck me."

"That does seem to be the message you are sending, Doctor."

[talshiargirlfriend]

Guess what it’s finally time for?

Spy-ay-ay-ay! aka ✨vibes✨ for Sumire or the Fic I’m Not Writing @candiedsumire @deadheaddaisy

We’re getting to a scene that has been in my head for six months, so here’s a quick synopsis for anyone who’d like to join the party: this is a no plot just vibes undercover fake dating romance set in a universe a few doors down from our prime timeline. Writing the whole fic was terrifying, so instead I’m just writing the funny sappy cheeseball moments I’d want to turn back to and reread and sigh over. (I mean it when I say it’s just vibes.)

It started here 💕 In this timeline T’Pol is part of the Vulcan contingent working with Starfleet to help improve their technology with Vulcan advancements (and take notes on what they can learn from their human allies). If things go well, joint missions will follow.

Not everyone is thrilled with this arrangement. 💥 Former operative T’Pol is tasked with keeping an eye on things from the inside — and on one Commander Tucker in particular. In her infinite wisdom she decides the best way to do that is just to move into his apartment and tell everyone they’re in love. As you do.

And now we’re getting somewhere…

Picking up where we left off, after Jonathan Archer’s attempt at redeeming himself

“I hope poor Rostov’s not too hungover tomorrow,” Trip said as he flopped down on the couch later that night. “This is only day one! We’ve still got a lot of work to do. But damn, our people really know how to celebrate.”

“They do,” T’Pol agreed, but she had an odd expression on her face.

“What?” he asked her, concerned but not yet on high alert.

She raised her eyebrows slightly. “I believe Lieutenant Carter is also celebrating.”

He frowned in confusion. And then he heard the faint rhythmic thumping and assorted … celebratory noises from upstairs.

“Oh god,” he groaned.

T’Pol opened her mouth, a familiar glint in her eye.

“Don’t you dare!” Trip warned through a laugh.

The devil on his shoulder prodded him. “Do you think it’s that firefighter she was flirting with a couple weeks ago?”

T’Pol tilted her head and raised an eyebrow slightly, “Only if his name is Jenny.”

Trip snorted a laugh. “I’m gonna have to go in the kitchen. I can’t take this. It’s almost as bad as Lizzie teasing me about you and me!” He shot her a grin as he stood up.

He expected her to share in his amusement but her eyebrows drew together. “You are ashamed that your sister believes you and I have a sexual relationship?” she asked quietly.

He startled, “What? No! God no.” I should be so lucky. Trip clamped his mouth shut, trying to give his brain a second to catch up before he explained himself into even more trouble.

“I’m not ashamed, it’s just a little embarrassing because … you know, that sort of thing is… well, it’s private.”

“That is a very Vulcan attitude on the subject,” T’Pol said with a hint of approval.

He relaxed slightly. “Is that a compliment?”

She tilted her head, “It’s not an insult.”

Far more comfortable with that subtle teasing, Trip grinned and stepped into the kitchen. “Well, for the record, you’re by far the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had, and I am the opposite of ashamed to be associated with you.”

T’Pol raised an amused eyebrow. “Thank you,” she said drily.

“What about you? I mean, I know your mom was kinda concerned, but has anyone else given you grief?” he asked as he sat down at the table.

T’Pol considered his question as she sat down beside him. “Stenn advised me to keep my residential address on file up to date, but otherwise no.”

“Matt gave me a Dad speech about that!” Trip exclaimed. “He called me into his office and sat me down, all serious. I was freaking out. What if the project’s getting canned or he’s stepping down due to ongoing heart problems or maybe I’ve made a big mistake somewhere, ya know?”

She nodded.

“And then he said ‘I see SubCommander T’Pol has amended her address in her Starfleet personnel file’ and then he stared at me. He reminded me how important the project is to Starfleet and to Earth.”

Trip affected a gruff tone, “‘I’m trusting you not to fu—mess this up, Tucker.’ and then when I was really sweating and stuttering, he just grinned at me and told me he’d never seen me happier and that he and his wife met when they worked together twenty-five years ago.” Trip shook his head with a chuckle.

T’Pol’s subtle amusement softened her expression.

“Wait, so does that mean Stenn doesn’t know? About us, I mean,” Trip asked as that bit caught up to him.

“You are the only one aware of my secondary assignment and the nature of our relationship.”

Trip raised his eyebrows at that, “Really? Just you me and the Vulcan Ministry of Security, huh? Well, I guess that makes sense, keeping my live-in security detail quiet.”

T’Pol gave him a guarded look and spoke hesitantly. “You may recall that I told you one of my superiors suggested I seduce you in order to position myself at your side to assess and react to any ongoing and developing threats.”

“I remember. I assumed that was a joke.” Trip took in her expression, the glint in her eye, the way her chin was raised in defiance… and his mouth dropped open.

“Are you telling me they think you actually did?” he spluttered.

“My private affairs are none of their concern and so I have chosen not to provide them with any details thereof,” she said haughtily.

“Well, yeah, but… “ He was actually speechless for a moment before frowning thoughtfully. A few things slotted into place. “It probably kinda pissed you off that they suggested it in the first place, even if they didn’t mean it seriously.”

She didn’t look at him but she inclined her head in acknowledgment. “I find the idea of initiating intimate behaviour under false pretenses distasteful, but it wasn’t only that.”

“Having worked with you for several weeks before I was required to act in a security capacity, I had time to assess many aspects of the situation, including your character.” She paused, looking like she wasn’t sure if should continue. He waited patiently.

“Suggesting, even in jest, that I simply seduce you was dismissive of the skills and expertise they were calling on me to employ. It was also reductive of you and humans in general to a sex-driven stereotype, in much the same way Captain Archer’s robot joke relied on one considering Vulcans emotionless automatons,” she finished, finally looking up at him.

Trip blew out a breath. “I guess maybe we’re more alike than different. Humans and Vulcans, I mean.”

T’Pol tilted her head in apparent agreement.

“Plus,” Trip eyed her slyly, “you like keeping something to yourself, getting one over on them.”

Her lack of immediate denial was an effective confirmation of her agreement.

“As I said, my personal affairs are none of their concern,” she said neutrally, but Trip spotted the smug set of her mouth and the amused twinkle in her eye. “Besides, you would have been uncooperative.”

“Uh,” Trip said noncommittally. Seriously?

He must have looked guilty because she huffed and rolled her eyes at him. “I do not say that to imply you are immune to temptation, but you would have been suspicious. Initial dishonesty would have been counterproductive.”

“You’re right. Better you explained yourself first before inviting yourself into my bed and taking over my entire apartment,” he teased, grinning at her.

“As I recall you insisted I sleep in the bedroom. I am not opposed to changing the arrangement if you’d prefer.”

“Nah,” Trip waved a hand in dismissal of the idea. “Absolutely not, it’s all yours. You gonna…?” He raised his eyebrows and leaned his head toward the bathroom.

“Yes,” she responded as she stood. “Will you…?” Her eyes flitted over to the tea caddy.

He nodded with a smile, “Of course.”

T’Pol went to shower and prepare for her nightly meditation.

It was amazing what you could get used to, Trip reflected as he quickly changed for bed and wandered back into the kitchen to make tea. In a few minutes he’d knock on the bedroom door. She’d be sitting there cross-legged on his bed in her pajamas with pillows stacked up behind her. He’d bring her a cup of tea and say goodnight before retiring to the sofa, just as he did most nights. He smiled at the thought.

In that quiet moment of domesticity, standing barefoot in his kitchen with his guard down, Trip suddenly spotted the revelation he’d been trying to avoid and slammed into it face first.

If testing went to plan - and all signs indicated that it would - they’d be finished in a few weeks. He’d get a new assignment, and so would she. Maybe he’d stay in development, or maybe he’d take a deep space posting. He’d always wanted to see the stars.

He could have his kitchen and his bedroom and his life back, but he didn’t want any of it. He didn’t want to move the mugs back where they used to be or rearrange the knives. He didn’t want his favourite blanket, or even his bed, back. He didn’t want T’Pol to take her tea and her candles and go on to her next assignment, back to her life without him, with an ex-fiancé and a disapproving mother.

He didn’t want her to go. At all. Ever. He wasn’t just nursing a silly crush due to the play acting. He was actually in love with her.

It was difficult to breathe through this sudden awareness. Shock and love and anticipatory grief filled his chest and tightened his throat as he stared at the cup in his hand without seeing it. She was going to leave him. What the hell was he going to do?

T’Pol found him there a few minutes later and looked worried by his unusual behaviour.

Her hair was damp, the ends curling slightly in a haphazard way. He wanted to twist a strand around his finger and tell her she was the most beautiful person he’d ever known. He wanted to pull her against his chest and ask her to stay with him forever, but he wasn’t sure if he could form words. He needed to get his head around this before he even tried.

“Trip, are you all right?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

He swallowed hard. “I’m fine. I guess I’m nervous about the testing,” he said weakly.

T’Pol didn’t look remotely convinced by that, but she didn’t press the issue. She just gently took the cup from his hand and eyed him carefully as she made the tea he’d forgotten all about.

[askcosplaysenpai]

Oh to be a fly on the wall when the Vulcan High Command finds out that humans put a man on the moon before putting wheels on a suitcase

[abardnamedreginald]

im a wolf-demon-salamander-grey treefrog-katydid-cricket-luna moth-klingon-trad vampire-cat-romulan-harry potter wizard-gnome-drow-orc-wood elf-high elf-werewolf-twilight vampire-chihuahua-android-bard-druid-sorcerer-d&d wizard-lotr wizard-mind flayer-kraken-owlbear-genetically modified human-andes mint-harry potter merperson-h20 mermaid-great white shark-raven named nevermore-amontillado-sewer clown-animatronic-ink person-reality bender-ringwraith-chicken-fairy-telescreen-multibear-manic pixie dream girl-d class-horcrux-dragon-unicorn-pegasus-among us crewmate-among us imposter-game master-sharpie king size marker-dwarf-dragonborn-toothbrush-rock-paper-scissors-lizard-vulcan-politician-god-phone guy-icebreakers ice cubes pineapple-a doctor not a miracle worker-troll-ent-poodle-rabbit-Bear.-orange zombie-purple zombie-green zombie-professor plum-col. mustard-in the library-with a knife-hoola dancer-fish-villager-pelecan-defense against the dark arts professer-mafia boss-peep rabbit-peep chicken-gymnast-hairbrush-philosopher-music freak-school teacher-kidnapper-police lieutenant-farmer-trash can-dumpster out back-turtle-tribble-my little pony-kratt brother-high diver-pearl diver, dive, dive, deeper-chef-fire-earth-water-wind-wasp-bee-hornet-yellowjacket-mud dabber-grasshopper-rattlesnake-armadillo-cowboy-flashlight-starfleet science officer-harlet-elephant-gater-muppet-emo-goth-preppy-teabag-loser-sucker-mouse-rat-a puppet-a pauper-a pirate-a poet-a pawn-and a king-father albert-the pope-a nun-pastor jeff-gambler-metalhead-death rocker-the grim reaper-angel-lighthouse-paw patrol dog-hobbit-starfish-sponge-crab-squid-shrimp-jellyfish-chipmunk-hammerhead shark-nurse shark-humpback whale-blue whale-orca-sexual harrassment panda-south park character-jakoffasaurus-scrabble board-ouija board-pillow-toilet paper-period pad-tampon-baby diaper-elderly diaper-martian-touch tone telephone-starfleet operations-starfleet command-kirk-spock-bones-sulu-chekov-uhura-scotty-yeoman rand-KHAN!!!-mudd-the uss enterprise-the uss reliant-botany bay-v'ger-valeris-saavik-sybok-surak-sarek-the abbreviation 'idk'-sheldon-leonard-penny-howard-raj-amy-bernadette-mary cooper-george sr-george jr-missy cooper-meemaw-tam-dr sturgis-dr linkletter-dr jack bright-dr clef-dr gears-dr kondraki-dr mann-dr iceberg-dr crow-dr rights-dr sherman-scp 049-scp 3008-scp 4231-scp 166-scp 682-scp 2521-scp 590-O5 6-bill cipher-stanley pines-stanford pines-dipper-mabel-wendy-soos-schmebulok-gideon-mcgucket-dipper goes to taco bell-sheriff blubs-deputy durland-tad strange-andy taylor-william afton-michael afton-elizabeth afton-crying child-henry emily-charlotte emily-dave miller-jack kennedy-dee kennedy-peter kennedy-steven stevenson-aragorn-sam-frodo-merry-pippin-boromir-legolas-gimli-gandalf-faramir-denethor-sauron-elrond-thranduil-harry-hermione-ron-voldemort-pettigrew.-moony-padfoot-prongs-snape-edward-bella-alice!!-carlisle-charlie-cthulhu-greg heffley-pennywise-bendy-sammy-norman-jack-alice (susie)-allison-henry stien-joey drew-bruenor battlehammer-raskolnikov-heather-heather-heather-veronica-jd-kurt-ram-martha-kurt cobain-david bowie-freddie mercury-hozier-mitski-lemon demon-jack stauber-tally hall-hamilton-burr-jefferson-madison-washington-phillip-angelica-eliza-peggy-king george iii-king henry viii-ben franklin-catherine of aragon-anne boleyn-jane seymour-anne of cleves-katherine howard-catherine parr-dracula-𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂-evan hansen-conner murphey-john adams-raymond barron-fred randall-jane doe-ocean-noel-mischa-constance-ricky-karnak-vergil-alternate-thatcher davis-ruth-dave-cesar-mark-adam-sarah-jonah-evelyn-gabriel-trump-biden-sunny-basil-kel-aubrey-hero-mari-vanessa (the mean girl that kinda likes u)-tux the linux penguin-perry the platypus hybrid princess...dont fw me

[more-better-words]

Day 16!

☀️

It was a warm, bright day on this nameless world, circling a nameless sun.

Well, that wasn't actually right. The Vulcans had given it a designation - some string of numbers that kept sliding out of Trip's memory the instant he tried to think of them. Which, as far as he was concerned, seriously lacked poetry. This place was far too beautiful for plain old numbers.

"Now this," he said aloud. "This is why I joined Starfleet."

Subcommander T'Pol looked up from her scanner, casting an inquiring eye towards him. "You are not currently engaged in any activity."

"Nope!" he agreed cheerfully. "Who needs to be?" He spread his hands, gazing about the sundrenched valley, the long grasses iridescent in the light. "This planet is gorgeous!"

"And that is why you joined Starfleet?" She returned to her scans. "To make aesthetic judgments of planetary bodies?"

"To see just how amazin' the universe can be? Yeah. Yeah it is." He shot a querying look of his own at her. "Why'd you join the High Command?"

"So that I might be of service to my people and my homeworld."

"That's it?"

"What more is required?"

"Why science?"

"I have an aptitude for it."

He blew out a frustrated breath. "Science is all about curiosity! You can't tell me you're not curious about the universe too." She opened her mouth, and he added, "Or you can, but I won't believe you."

She gave him a fixed stare, her mouth tightening involuntarily. She wanted to tell him that he was entirely incorrect...which would be an untrue statement. And that should not have been a problem, because falsehoods served a logical role in communication, just as honesty did. But Commander Tucker was honest, often to his detriment, and T'Pol found herself mirroring his truthfulness, even when it seemed unnecessary.

"It is...gratifying to contribute to the expansion of knowledge via scientific inquiry," she admitted. "I suppose you might call that curiosity."

"See?" He grinned. "That didn't hurt."

[anghraine]

So, I'd been going to write another chunk of the femslash Spirk AU for Valentine's Day, something actually centered on their romance, maybe something fluffy. What I actually wrote was several thousand words of S'paak as high-octane gay yearning given human (well, human/Vulcan) form, ft. barely metaphorical internalized homophobia. That's how I see TOS Spock anyway, but it didn't feel quite in the spirit of the day, so I'm posting it today instead! It's set around "Turnabout Intruder" (of all things).

When S’paak looked at Jessica Kirk, she felt more than any Vulcan should. And as time passed, and S’paak came to understand her more accurately and in more detail, the wilder her impossible, irrepressible emotions became. She admired the captain’s personal qualities, of course: her knowledge, her ability to command trust and obedience, her cleverness, her presence of mind in a crisis, even her propensity towards tackling foes half again her size and targeting the nerves that sent them crumpling to the ground. Her attacks might be less precise than S’paak’s in defending her, but they were effective, and S’paak respected effectiveness. Jess was her friend, as well, and as a human, saw no need to conceal her personal attachment to S’paak, or high opinion of her intelligence and skills. She almost always addressed S’paak with an open camaraderie that seemed to expect nothing in return except competence at her work, and was certainly absent the others’ obvious desire to nudge S’paak towards forgetting her family and culture for the sake of their own comfort. If anything, S’paak’s restraint only increased Jess’s evident regard for her—and S’paak found that her distaste for the cascade of affronts she so often received faded every time the captain’s lashes flicked her way and lifted to reveal a look of undisguised affection, Jess’s mouth shifting into a smile. Not her usual smile, either, but one with less calculated charm and more effortless delight. S’paak considered these expressions a special honor, though she could not have explained why to anyone else, least of all another Vulcan. But even this much, while true, did not explain the immeasurable value S’paak found in Jessica’s friendship and her being. Each wry aside, each fond glance, each laugh at S’paak’s more acrid remarks, provoked a degree of silent but deep sentimentality that S’paak could not shake and did not entirely wish to shake. She knew it was shameful to feel such emotions, and still more shameful to nourish them within herself rather than subduing them to her will. And she was ashamed, but not enough to withdraw from Jess or their friendship. Sometimes S’paak thought she would do anything for her. Anything at all.

She took a deep breath, laying her hands on her folded legs. At the end of every day, S’paak meditated before sleeping. The practices of her ancestors helped her assemble facts and observations in patterns not always clear to her regular deliberations, yet still rigorous and logical in form. It was soothing after hours among humans, but more importantly, it was a discipline that led to truth. She counted her inhalations.

She could recall, perhaps more vividly than a full human might have, the sensation of inferior wires and various metal components against her cold skin as she built a computer in early twentieth-century Earth. It had been difficult, and sometimes painful as the crude materials conducted energy across her fingers; the endeavor was initially beyond even S’paak’s estimation of her own abilities. But when Jessica said I sometimes expect too much of you, S’paak had immediately been determined to succeed.

The circumstances were urgent, critical, yet the captain’s disappointment had registered as still more critical. And afterwards, Jess’s fascination with Edith Keeler, and Edith’s with her, only deepened S’paak’s sense of urgency. In that time and place, such an attachment between two women—even when both were human—could only be a great danger. Her concern was not entirely illogical. But she had not lied to herself then and did not now. S’paak respected Edith, but at the same time, had almost loathed her, for no reason except the obvious depth of feeling growing between Edith and Jessica. It was more excruciating to observe them together than to burn her fingers on the wires, a visceral pain that no logic could explain or justify.

Her shame also struck her as, in some way, a failure. The captain unquestionably merited S’paak’s devotion. It was not irrational in that sense. Jess deserved a friend who would not regret her.

She already had friends of that kind, of course: McCoy most of all, but many others scattered across the galaxy. And she seemed to value them, to welcome the human expressiveness she shared with them—and yet S’paak’s calculations resulted in the unambiguous conclusion that the captain spent considerably more time with her than all others, even accounting for their professional proximity. Jessica did not have to set aside significant portions of her time off-duty for games of strategy or conversation of no particular moment, nor show up at S’paak’s door with food and tea when S’paak was weary enough to avoid the lines at the replicators. All information suggested that she had no other motive than liking S’paak’s company and caring for her welfare.

S’paak, too, enjoyed the disproportionate quantity of time they spent together, and wished the captain well beyond her ability to articulate. At the same time, she could offer little to her in personal terms, except unbending loyalty. It was more than she should feel, and less than Jessica deserved. S’paak didn’t know if she felt guiltier over the depth of friendship between them or over her own ambivalence about it, but neither could be denied.

And even that was a lesser truth. S’paak’s eyelids twitched and she opened them, staring at the familiar Vulcan weapons decorating her quarters, the gleam of the metals against the deep red of her walls. She knew her shame was not confined to feelings of friendship.

She had always recognized that Captain Kirk was an attractive woman, had increasingly found that her dislike of the standard Starfleet uniform for women came to a very sudden end whenever she looked at Jessica. There was no acceptable rationale for this, no significant variations between the cut of the captain’s clothes and the inconveniences of the uniform for other women, except accommodations to differing proportions. But Jessica had a habit of settling into the captain’s chair with easy assurance, stretching out her booted legs, then hooking one ankle over the other as she delivered crisp, entirely professional orders to the crew, and it just—looked different.

Sometimes, watching her, S’paak felt as if the hazy fever of pon farr might return at any moment, her blood aflame, consuming her entirely should her eyes linger on the line of Jessica’s throat and breast, or smoothly muscled legs, or even the waves of dark blonde hair pinned behind her head and neatly parted above her brow.

Out of respect, S’paak made a point of fixing her eyes on the captain’s face when interacting with her on the bridge, trying not to become equally distracted by the soft curve of her mouth or the gleam in her eyes as they glanced at each other, needing few words. S’paak had to remind herself that they were surrounded by other people; at such moments, it was remarkably easy to forget anyone else existed at all. She adopted a habit of counting to an appropriate number of seconds before decorum required her to turn away, examining sensor results or the stellar field in their viewscreen while her pulse thrummed in her throat.

And when Jessica ordered S’paak to accompany her on an away team, as she often did, there was always some observation of the environment to be made, or tricorder reading to consider, or an expression or conversation to evaluate rationally. She took comfort in the fact that the burden of all this could be managed in a way that pon farr could not—repressed, contained, modulated to the appropriate conduct of a first officer and friend, giving nothing away even when her stomach lurched at the sight of her captain.

But after three years, S’paak had come to understand that this emotion, this feeling of starved longing for what could never be hers, was not going to disappear. Perhaps it never would. Then again, it didn’t need to; her silent hunger for her friend and superior officer inconvenienced no one but herself. This particular shame didn’t diminish her loyalty, but amplified it. Beyond any desire for touch, of the body or the mind, she longed to be useful to Jessica, significant, valuable, more irreplaceable than anyone else could ever be.

Sometimes, that desire struck her as every bit as impossible and unreasonable as the other; sometimes, she thought the empirical evidence suggested she could attain this much, at least. But it fed her discipline and her work like nothing else. S’paak knew she would make for a highly competent science officer on any vessel, but she also knew she’d never be so effective again as on this mission, unless—she hardly dared hope for it—they were sent out together again.

S’paak unfolded her legs and rose to her feet, oddly at peace once more. Her emotions, if forbidden, were at least comprehensible, neat and compressed within her mind. Nothing short of a mind-meld could disturb them.

-----

S’paak slept as dreamlessly as usual, with no reason to expect disaster on the next day’s shift. But that was what came of expectations without evidence one way or another. She, Jessica, and McCoy had returned from Camus II in discomfort, unable to do much for the dying scientist who had once loved Jessica—not like S’paak, but in her own way, no doubt. None of them suspected anything odd about the captain’s behavior. Not then. But her chilly stubbornness on the bridge caught S’paak’s attention with no need for contact with her mind.

“Continue present course,” the captain insisted, sitting rigidly upright rather than leaning back with her usual air of careless authority.

“At maximum speed, Starbase Two would still meet the emergency,” said S’paak, more puzzled than alarmed. Jess was generally reasonable and measured in judgment, for all of her emotional displays.

Lieutenant Lysa glanced over at both of them, her brow furrowed.

“Captain, shall I advise Starfleet Command of the change of plan?” Lysa asked.

“No change of plan has been ordered, lieutenant!” snapped the captain. “Our arrival at Beta Aurigae will merely be delayed. Our gravitational studies of that binary system will not suffer, and a life may be saved!” She paused. “This is not unusual procedure for the Enterprise.”

A peculiar way of putting it.

“Ma’am,” said S’paak, “I believe Starfleet will have to be notified that our rendezvous with the starship Potemkin will not take place as scheduled.”

Captain Kirk jerked towards her, her body stiff with obvious anger and her features drawn into a scowl.

“Commander S’paak, if you’d concentrate on the areas for which you are responsible, Starfleet Command would’ve been informed already!”

S’paak lifted an eyebrow, not about to stare, but now certain that something was deeply wrong. The human crewmembers looked far more taken aback; whatever the effects of their easy, quick-passing emotions on their minds, they were not unintelligent.

Within an hour, S’paak estimated that a good half of the entire crew of the Enterprise had noticed the strangeness of the captain’s behavior. Kirk continually tried to enact a furious tyranny that made it impossible to protect or help her, least of all after she struck a visibly upset Janice Lester so hard that Dr. Lester crumpled to the ground. 

Neither S’paak nor McCoy had any idea what might have caused the disruption to Kirk’s mind, but there was no denying it. After McCoy led the captain away for medical testing, S’paak thought about the only words Dr. Lester had managed to get out before Captain Kirk knocked her unconscious.

Spock, Bones. Help me. Don’t let them lock me away from you. I’ve got to talk to you!

It did not seem probable for Dr. Lester, a stranger, to speak to either McCoy or S’paak in such a fashion, unless for some reason she had adopted the informality from Captain Kirk in the few minutes they had been alone together. Not impossible, but not likely. Even if Dr. Lester was psychologically unstable—well, she could hardly be more unstable than Kirk herself had become since their return. And S’paak thought it obvious that Kirk had been trying to prevent Dr. Lester from communicating whatever she was trying to say.

S’paak trusted Dr. McCoy’s medical expertise enough that she saw no need to interfere with his physiological and psychological tests of the captain. Instead, she retraced her steps back to Dr. Lester’s guarded quarters. Lieutenant Galloway, a security officer, frowned at her.

“How is the doctor?” S’paak asked him.

“She regained consciousness very quickly,” he said.

S’paak gave a sharp nod. “Good. I have questions to ask her.”

With customary human transparency, uncertainty settled over his features. “Did the captain order it, ma’am?”

S’paak was not about to be stopped by Galloway, of all people, during this brief opportunity she had to discover the truth. McCoy’s tests could only distract Kirk for so long. She looked down her nose at him.

“Why should she?” she said. “They are my questions; therefore, I am ordering it, lieutenant.”

“The captain said no one is allowed to speak to Dr. Lester,” he said weakly.

“Has such an order ever included her senior officers?” she said.

“No, ma’am,” he admitted, and glanced around the hall. “Commander S’paak, I think the captain meant that a guard should be present.”

Good enough.

“By all means, lieutenant,” she told him.

Together, they strode into the quarters where Janice Lester stood somberly by her bed, arms about her waist. Dr. Lester turned as they entered, Galloway’s hand drifting near his phaser. If Lester noticed, she didn’t care; the frustration in her face immediately transmuted into wild relief at the sight of them.

“S’paak!” she cried, taking an unsteady step forward. “I should have known you’d come back!”

S’paak gestured for Galloway to stand near the door. Thankfully, he didn’t resist that order, and S'paak stalked over to the doctor, near enough that she could drop her voice out of Galloway’s range of hearing.

“Dr. Lester, I—”

“I’m not Janice Lester,” she whispered. “You’ve got to believe me. She is.”

S’paak blinked. No rational response immediately came to mind.

“Explain,” she said at last.

“Janice and Coleman planned this,” said the woman who looked and sounded like Dr. Lester, and presumably was Lester, and only very ill. “I’m Jess, S’paak. At least, what makes Jessica Kirk me is trapped in this body.” She gestured at her slim, sickly form with every appearance of distaste. “Janice wasn’t actually weak—she took me by surprised, overpowered me, connected me to some sort of device. I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I came to in this body, and to her in mine. She’s out of her mind, S’paak.”

It was a baffling, unlikely explanation for the peculiarities S’paak had observed. Not impossible, of course, and it conveniently explained just about every anomaly surrounding both women throughout the last few hours. But it explained them in defiance of all probability. Yet if this were true, S’paak could hardly abandon Captain Kirk—Jessica—to this fate.

“Complete life-entity transfer with the aid of a mechanical device?” S’paak asked.

Maybe-Lester nodded eagerly. “Yes, that’s what it must’ve been.”

“To my knowledge,” said S’paak, selecting each word with even greater care than she always did, “such total transfer has never been accomplished with complete success anywhere in the galaxy.”

“It was accomplished and forgotten long ago on Camus II,” maybe-Lester insisted. “I am a living example.”

“That is your claim,” S’paak said. “As yet, it is unsubstantiated by any external evidence, or objective tests.”

The other woman’s brows drew together. “Nevertheless, S’paak, it is the truth I’m speaking.”

S’paak studied her, unable to see any signs of deception, yet unsure that she would see them in such a case. If this woman who looked and sounded like Janice Lester was not lying or insane, her explanation would make for a much more palatable truth than the one S’paak had feared, the inescapable conclusion that Kirk had gone completely out of her mind. But the very appeal of an alternate explanation, as well as its unlikelihood, made her wary.

“At this moment, Dr. McCoy is examining the captain for psychological changes,” S’paak said, meeting her eyes. “If any facts are uncovered, that would be acceptable evidence. The only kind which is acceptable to Starfleet Command or to the crew of the Enterprise.”

“S’paak,” maybe-Lester said impatiently, “when I was caught in the interspace of the Tholian Sector, you risked your life and the Enterprise to get me back! Help me get back now. When the Vians of Minara demanded that we let Bones die, we didn’t permit it!”

“That is true,” said S’paak slowly, but she knew it wasn’t proof. “The captain did not. However, those events have been recorded. They could have become known to you.”

The other woman took a quick breath, her gaze unwavering and intense, fixed on S’paak’s face in what S’paak acknowledged to herself was very much Jessica’s way. But the eyes were the wrong color, the wrong shape, the wrong—everything was wrong, and this explanation so strange, yet so very much preferable to what S’paak feared.

Then again, was it more logical to presume that two women spontaneously going mad was more likely than one? She could acknowledge an elegant simplicity to this explanation, beyond its convenience.

“You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe. You know her thoughts,” maybe-Lester said, her tone urgent and matter-of-fact, not sentimental. An easy misunderstanding if she only knew of them by report. But if she was Jessica, then—for a brief, fractional moment, S’paak felt like she had the first time she set foot on Earth, breathing in the richness of its air, so overwhelmed by sensation that her control over herself nearly crumbled on the spot. 

“What does your telepathic mind tell you now?” maybe-Lester was saying.

S’paak knew her expression had not changed, not given anything away. But it was an obvious solution, a logical one. She dared not risk even a cautious look at Galloway, but shifted her position to stand in his line of sight, hoping that her taller form would obscure her actions. It was terrifyingly simple to brush her fingers over the familiar psi-points on the unfamiliar face, and just as simple to link their minds as if it were nothing.

This time, S’paak found that she didn’t need to whisper the ritual phrases that guided most mind-melds, nor even rely on the controlled mental effort she usually had to exert to navigate the chaos of a human mind. Her own spare, careful thoughts easily joined those of the woman before her, charged with fear, misery, desperation, but implacable resolve. She had to try. She had to keep trying, couldn’t give up, couldn’t end this way—

Already, it required more discipline for S’paak to maintain a barrier between them than to join their thoughts together. This woman’s mind was breathtakingly vibrant and dynamic, blending a cool flow of sharp reasoning and calculation with an overwhelming force of emotion. Both currents felt equally intense, equally familiar. Her mind might well consume everything S’paak was if she let it, or become subsumed into S’paak’s own—she couldn’t tell. She’d never been able to tell.

Jess. Jessica.

S’paak withdrew from the meld as quickly as good practice allowed, pulling her hand away from Lester’s—Jessica’s—face. She knew the captain had not invaded her own thoughts. It was not her way, nor her ability, and S’paak had the distinct impression that Jess was too caught up in the very understandable anxieties of her situation to try. Her own mind was secure, and in any case, they had far greater priorities.

“I believe you,” S’paak said, and Jessica’s shoulders slumped in relief, even as S’paak’s mind raced ahead.

There would be difficulties. Galloway, for one, and possibly, every other person on the ship, depending on the results of McCoy’s tests. It might well be only the two of them against everyone on the ship, against perhaps an entire universe that would see only the outer shells of Janice Lester and Jessica Kirk.

You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe.

Well, the attempt must be made, S’paak decided. Jessica’s control over her own mind and body had been stripped from her, yet again, in an utterly bizarre way that no one could possibly deserve or desire. Their path out might be difficult, but it was not complex, and doing nothing was not an option.

“Come with me,” S’paak murmured.

Three hours later, Jessica had been restored to her own body, to the very evident relief of all concerned except Janice Lester herself. S’paak’s own relief somewhat passed reason. To know that Jessica stood beside her, trapped and endangered—to know she could reach into the mind behind a strange face with only the slightest effort, and find herself swept up in the familiar flood of Jessica’s thoughts—and yet to see a stranger? It was the least important element of the ordeal, but S’paak didn’t like it.

Once she returned to the captain’s chair, Jessica thanked the many mutineers for their loyalty to the principles of the Federation above unthinking obedience, and several of the security officers who had obeyed Lester winced. As they well should, S’paak thought. They should have known something was wrong, as so many others had. Chekov and Sulu had refused to fly the ship. Scott had planned to overthrow the captain with a half-reluctant McCoy. Jessica could have died alone while an intruder governed the Enterprise like some ancient warlord and led them into disaster. But some of the crew had done nothing.

For all of S’paak’s years of burning shame, what she felt in the privacy of her mind had never led her to anything so contemptible.

She tucked the thought away for another time and focused on her post as the Enterprise rushed into warp 6, Jessica’s voice ringing out with her usual steady, controlled calm. Not the control of a Vulcan, but not entirely unlike, and S’paak could see the effect on the nervous bridge crew, the tension in various human voices and postures fading as the hours of their shift went on. Jessica had refused to cut her own short, as ever.

Logical, thought S’paak. The most effective thing Jess could do at this point was behave as much like her usual self as possible, and undoubtedly she knew it. But she must be tired.

-----

At the end of their shift, Jessica and S’paak walked quietly towards the turbolift. Once the doors closed, Jessica exhaled and leaned against the wall with a low groan, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

“You should rest, captain,” S’paak told her.

“I can’t say I’m looking forward to sleep tonight,” Jessica said ruefully, forcing herself back upright. Her right hand was still pressed to her temple.

A headache was to be expected, S’paak knew. Jess was prone to them under stress, and anyone might experience an unusually painful migraine after the day she’d had. It would be easy to soothe, of course, just as S’paak had melded with her while she slept and soothed her pain over Rayna. But that had been different.

Forbidden. Very forbidden. She hadn’t even hesitated.

S’paak removed temptation through her customary means of locking her hands behind her back. But she could see how strained and exhausted Jess looked, now that she wasn’t in full sight of the crew and projecting strength.

“You should still rest,” S’paak said.

“Very logical of you,” said Jessica, lowering her hand and breaking into the sunny smile she so often directed at S’paak, if an unusually weary iteration of it. “How about you come by my quarters for chess instead, after your dinner? I’m going to check in with Bones before I settle in, make sure Janice didn’t leave anything behind. But I’ve got to get my thoughts to slow down before I consider sleeping—you know how it is.”

S’paak did, indeed, know. She also knew Dr. McCoy would do better at bullying Jess into sleep, so she nodded.

“I’ll join you in two hours,” she said while the turbolift opened.

“No doubt to the minute,” said Jessica, her voice brightening, and she carelessly waved a hand as they parted.

For 2.7 seconds, the gesture brought her hand within range of S’paak’s own, had she chosen to reach out. S’paak could have touched her fingers to Jessica’s, perhaps even drawn them over her skin—but that would mean a far greater loss than gain. Jess, after all, knew what that meant to Vulcans. Instead, S’paak very reasonably kept her hands wrapped around each other and held behind her, where they could cause no trouble.

As she walked towards the mess hall, she recalled Jessica’s fond, laughing voice of two years ago: Please stay out of trouble, Commander S’paak.

S’paak, not at all injured by the unconvincing reproach, had returned her gaze and said with equally unconvincing innocence,

That is always my intention, captain.

It was rarely the point to convince her, of course. Jessica saw the finer nuances and edges of S’paak’s personality, and very evidently delighted in seeing them. The obvious joy she took in understanding and observing her—the joy she took in S’paak—had always been too unfamiliar and heady to repulse.

S’paak ate her dinner in outwards silence, thoughts still darting around her mind, and did reach the captain’s quarters at precisely the scheduled time. She found the layers of the chess set already pulled out and the pieces properly set up. She and Jessica hardly spoke for an hour, hearing little except the slight clack of the pieces through three rapid games, and the steady rumble of the ship.

Finally, after S’paak managed to eke out a win in the final round, Jessica sighed.

“You should probably get some sleep, too,” she said, her fingers curling against her palms.

S’paak shook her head. “I do not require anything like the amount of rest you do, and I slept well last night. If you want to see if you can claim victory after five games instead of three, it’s no trouble to me.”

In answer, Jessica’s hands relaxed and she began quickly setting up the pieces again.

“May the best woman win,” she said.

She already has, S’paak thought, remembering Janice Lester’s screams of rage.

“As ever,” said S’paak.

She was still highly alert by the time that Jessica’s eyes started blinking more slowly. Jess even yawned before almost absently seizing S’paak’s king and declaring her third checkmate of the night. S’paak had not let her win, of course—she never did—but her attention on the game had been rather less focused than usual. Throughout the evening, Jessica had said little of her thoughts, but her face was still drawn, and a few times, her hand shook as she moved one of the pieces. Nothing remarkable for most people, but unusual for her.

S’paak didn’t like leaving her alone, despite knowing that Jessica could take care of herself, and likely needed rest more than anything. Staying was certainly not an option, at any rate. They wished each other quiet farewells, and S’paak dutifully returned to her own quarters, very slightly soothed by the warmer air and the colors of Vulcan. It had been a long day for her, as well, however little her strain compared to Jessica’s. Alone, she allowed herself a long, steadying inhalation, then rolled out her meditation mat and sat down.

It took longer than usual for her thoughts to settle into a proper order—calm, disciplined, free of self-deception. She felt guilty, she realized, and not for her typical reasons. Amidst all the chaos and near-disasters of the day, the very real harm to Jessica and potentially to herself and the crew of the Enterprise, something had given rise to an entirely different emotion. More than gratification, less than joy.

You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe, Jessica had said. She’d been trapped, desperate, saying the words in a voice other than her own, staring into S’paak’s eyes with a body other than her own. But she had not lied. S’paak had slipped into her mind seconds later, felt Jessica’s conviction in that fact, so simple and absolute that it required no qualification or reflection.

It was wrong and illogical, S’paak concluded, to take any enjoyment from such a terrible circumstance. She shouldn’t, for Jessica’s sake if not her own. But even long meditation did nothing to budge the selfish pleasure that still lingered. She finally changed clothes and stretched out on her bed, hands clasped over her stomach as she stared at the ceiling.

Closer than anyone in the universe.

She could live on this day for years.

[quasi-normalcy]

Another point about the Romulans: They remembered their ancient kinship with the Vulcans, even though most of the Vulcans themselves were unaware of it; they were in fact working behind the scenes to reunify with the Vulcans, right at the time that humanity appeared on the galactic scene.

So basically, they have this rich, 2,000-year-old history with their old enemies/cousins; they've reached out, tentatively, to the highest levels of Vulcan High Command with a plan to merge their empires. They just need to get their boy in place as a dictator on Vulcan, and in order to do that, they need to stage a terrorist attack. Okay, well; against whom? Against the embassy of this absolute nothing-burger bunch of space-hillbillies called the "Humans." Whatever, they only just invented warp drive like 5 minutes ago, who cares about them? Blow up their embassy, blame this pacifist sect, get V'Las some emergency powers and then toast to the 10,000-year reign of the Romulo-Vulcan Empire.

But what's this? The humans are investigating? They've made contact with the pacifist sect and it turns out...that they have Surak's katra and and the true record of his writings? What? And now V'Las is being arrested? And now the Vulcan government is being dissolved, and the entire planetary religion is undergoing a reformation?? And the new government wants lasting peace with its neighbours! Well, we can't have that! We'll send a false-flag ship in to sow chaos between Vulcan, Andor, and Tellar; we'll have them back on a war-footing before they know what's going on, and hopefully get V'Las out of prison--

And our false-flag ship was just destroyed...By the Space-Hillbillies. AGAIN? Well, clearly these "Humans" are more dangerous than we've anticipated. No matter. We shall send our imperial navy to swoop in upon their nascent civilization, just as the unmerciful raptor swoops in upon its pr--

What the FUCK, our fleet was DEFEATED!?! And now the Vulcans are forming a union with these peasants?? They were supposed to be forming a union with US! WE are the ones with the thousands of years of shared history! WE are the ones with the bonds of blood-kinship going back since before our ancestors left Arret bearing tales of the Ganmadan! Who the hell are these people!?

And then they go off to sulk behind the Neutral Zone for the next 200 years.