Spock's Promise, chapter one

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter one

Spock gazed through the glistening Queen Anne windows of his living room, entranced as always by the light spring rain casting a ghostly glow on the verdant garden in the chilly Oregon evening's last light. *A single beam of dwindling pink sunlight shone on the sweet gum tree that his mother had planted mere days before her death, and Spock was thinking of her now as he waited for the latest Starfleet updates to load on his desktop monitor. After Amanda had left the 20th century cottage to him, Spock had meticulously restored it to it's original condition, leaving not the smallest detail unattended to. *Twenty-forth century conveniences were cleverly concealed throughout so as not to disrupt the ancient flavor of the charming dwelling which the Grayson's had called a second home and sanctuary for nearly five hundred years.

A gentle rustle from behind him, detectable only to Vulcan ears, drew him from his reverie. *Spock turned his saturnine features just as the incomparable Suzanne came slipping into his arms as if she had always been there, and always would be. *Silken waves of perfumed white hair crashed across his face as she angled in for a deep, passionate kiss. Spock had long ago learned not to try to fight the surge of longing he felt for this goddess as she engulfed him. *Suzanne had taught the otherwise most stoic of Vulcans that true love was indeed the most logical thing in the universe.

"Have the orders come yet?", the lady inquired with feigned casualness, her neutral tone betrayed by furrowed brow and slightly pursed lips.

"Not yet, but soon, my dear.", he intoned with a most un-Vulcan note of sympathy as he pulled her closer to him, hoping to ease her fears somewhat.

"I really don't see why it HAS to be you!", she retorted, with more feeling now.

"I am the Vulcan ambassador to Romulus. *Their Praetor has asked for ME to take care of this personally. *Additionally, it was I who developed the Red Matter and devised it's application in this crisis." *Their fingers intertwined in the Vulcan gesture who's nearest analog was the human kiss, as he felt his wife begin to surrender to the unavoidable.

"Tell me again why I can't come with you?" The tears were threatening to come now, despite her obvious efforts to contain them.

Spock patiently explained, for at least the tenth time, about the Romulan's distrust of humans, Starfleet's insistence that the whole affair remain classified, and the simple physical danger of taking a tiny one-man craft so near to an impending super-nova. *As he finished the by now familiar refrain, a soft tone sounded on the monitor.

Turning his attention to the screen, his expectations were fully realized as he beheld the silver-grey UFP symbol upon a pale blue background and flanked by the words, "Attention: Ambassador Spock--For Your Eyes Only."

Only the faintest and most tremulous sigh was left in her wake, and Suzanne was gone.

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter two

As Spock stood upon the raised shuttle platform, bidding farewell to his younger, alternate self and 'wishing him luck', his razor-sharp mind was suddenly flooded with the memory of another recent goodbye--one that had cost both himself and it's recipient much more than he had realized at the time.....

Moonlight trickled through the breaking clouds, illuminating the ancient private garden with an otherworldly iridescence. *The last gusts of rain-laden breeze did little to conceal Suzanne's now freely flowing tears.

"Come back to me, Spock", her quavering voice, a further indication of her overwhelming sense of foreboding.

"You have my most solemn promise, Madame", Spock replied, confidence exuding from every pore.

"I love you, Sir Knight", she said almost plaintively as the somber pair stood enwrapped in each other's trembling arms on the faux-wooden back porch.

"And I love you, Milady.", the Vulcan intoned with not-quite mock severity, tightening his grip on her just slightly, for emphasis.

They finished the long-practiced ritual together in unison as the strikingly taller man bent low to kiss his woman's moist cheeks, "Always have.....always will."

This last statement culminated, as tradition demanded, in a long, deep, wet kiss which sent violent shockwaves through both of their loins, urging them to remain locked this way 'til the very end of the universe itself. *As they teased each other with their tongues--a curious convention she had taught to him early in their courtship--Suzanne guided Spock to the huge, cushioned swing, where he unerringly moved aside her robe and pulled away her sweetly scented undergarments, even as she brought him forth into her delicate hands. *He took her as she demanded to be taken; without hesitation, reservation or regard for the passage of time. Completely absorbed as they were in each other's writhing forms, slipping and sweaty and frantically hungry as if this were the first and only time they would ever have this opportunity...and, evidently, Time must have chosen that most unfortunate moment to read their minds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mission was over, and it had been an unmitigated disaster from start to finish. *The Romulus of the distant future, irrevocably lost. *The events of the past--as Spock*knew them--shifted away to some unreachable alternate timeline...HIS timeline...THEIR timeline. *In this 'new' unfolding of events: his mother dead decades before her 'original' time, his beloved home planet destroyed, his treasured friendship with Jim savagely curtailed to a mere state of mutual suspicion and distrust, tinged with the bitter taste of a jealous competition between them. *His gut clenched still tighter as he recognized his most horrific potential loss; Suzanne, the diminutive enchantress, the white-haired human woman who had captured his heart and soul as no other creature ever could. *Was she alive? *Could he hope to ever find her in a universe so fundamentally different than the one with which HE was familiar? *Would she know him if he DID track her down? *Would she LOVE him if he told her of his love for her?

.....Spock strode now with a singular purpose and an indomitable will, toward the kiosk which would direct him to the next shuttle for the Cascade foothills of Oregon. *It was only logical to check for his Lady Fair, first, in the last place he had left her (timeline shift, aside, of course). Abruptly, however, both Spock's physical and mental progress along his newly chosen path were intercepted, as two burly Naussicans, each clad in heavy duty Starfleet Security armor, flanked the Vulcan and seized him roughly by both of his arms.

"Excuse me, Mr.--er...Ambass...uh--Sir", grated the mechanical voice of the universal translator, "Command would like to talk to you about the fact that we suddenly seem to have an extra 'Spock' in this timeline. *Will you accompany us, please?" *Both the stance and the grip of the oversized aliens made it abundantly clear to Spock that this was NOT a request.

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter three

The Commodore's office was almost opulent, fastidiously decorated, neat as a pin and quite thoroughly robbed of all of it's potential charm by the lingering presence of the two Naussican security guards who continued to brood over Spock as if he were an unsightly stain upon the rich, textured upholstery of the chair in which he sat, his gaze unconcerned and his fingers steepled in front of him. *Across the expansive mahogany desk from the impassive Vulcan, Mendez was drawing a dramatically deep breath to recap the story Spock had just told.....again.

"So the Romulus of fifty-three years hence is destroyed by a super-nova. You are preceded into the resultant black hole by an ordinary and unknown Romulan mining ship, whose Captain has decided to take his revenge upon you and everyone connected to you for your failure to save his planet. You are both deposited into this timeline--but arrive 25 years apart--allowing for the destruction of the 'Kelvin' and the loss of George Kirk, acting captain of that ship, and father of JAMES Kirk, acting captain of HIS ship, who is responsible for stopping the renegade before he could do more in THIS timeline than explode 'our' Vulcan. *Am I getting it all straight?"

Medez's exasperated expression was in no way relieved when the black clad Temporal Ops agent shuffled forward out of the shadows, handed the brightly colored recording wedge to the Commodore, and muttered sotto voice, "Our chrono-readings of the prisoner confirm that part of his story, at least, sir."

Scarcely a beat passed before Spock raised his wary eyes to meet those of his interrogator, and said calmly to Mendez, "Those are essentially the facts, Commodore."

"Two Spock's in this timeline can cause an incredible amount of disruption to our future," Mendez thundered, his rapidly crumbling veneer of patience suddenly evaporating altogether, "Look what has already happened...and you just GOT here!"

"Sir, it is not my intention to remain in this timeline. *I have compelling reasons to return to my own." *A vision of the breathtaking Suzanne arose in his mind's eye at that moment, and he felt himself go rigid to avoid a visible wince.

"But how? *How will you get back?" *The question was ripped from Mendez by a fascination he could not hold at bay by mere means of Officer's Conduct Codes.

"I have insufficient information to have prepared a distinct course of action at this time, Sir." *Still completely unruffled. *What made this alien tick, anyway?

"Well, I have no intention of letting you run around loose in our world while you figure it out!" *Was that a fleeting glimpse of regret in the Commodore's eyes?

"I have committed no crime," Spock said simply, hoping to capitalize upon what he'd thought he'd seen flash across the Starfleet Officer's visage.

"You are a proven danger to us. *I have no choice but to detain you until we can decide what to do with you." *The finality of an irrevocable decision hung between them now. *This meeting was over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alone now in the comfortable, but securely locked quarters Mendez had ordered him confined to, Spock's keen ears began to pick up the faintest of whines which he could not begin to account for. Peering around the unadorned room to find the source of the annoyance, the Vulcan soon noticed a soft reddish glow in the vicinity of the front door's locking mechanism.

He was very nearly prepared for it when, in the next moment, the door hissed open and into the room stepped the young Jim Kirk and Spock's own alternate self. *Beyond them, in the corridor, lay two sleeping security guards with the barest beginnings of twin startled looks on their inanimate faces.

"We kinda decided we owed you one," announced Kirk with the unashamed, reckless grin that was soon to become legendary throughout the Alpha Quadrant.

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter four

As the fugitive trio strolled casually down the well-illuminated corridor, Spock (Prime) wondered about the curious absence of alarms, flashing lights or agitated Starfleet personnel, converging on their position. The protective cocoon his young rescuers formed around his as they moved--Kirk in the lead and Spock (alternate) bringing up the rear--seemed completely unnecessary in the silent pre-dawn hours inside of Starfleet Headquarters most resplendent facility.

The elderly Vulcan gestured to the dead security cams and quiescent alert panels when he noticed Kirk glance around in his direction. *"Your doing?", he inquired innocently, already knowing the answer.

"I don't like to lose", Kirk stated simply, matter-of-factly expressing the sentiment which was to become the cornerstone of his career as an officer.

"A commendable attitude", both Spocks responded at once, startling each of them and sending a visible chuckle through Kirk.

"We have GOT to get you home", Kirk smirked over his shoulder as they warily approached a gleaming set of turbo-lift doors. *"I really don't think I can deal with TWO of you!"

The doors whispered open to reveal a perky young brunette girl with a dazzlingly friendly smile on her pretty face and an exceptionally well-fitting cadet's uniform sporting the nameplate 'Barnett'. *"Good morning, Captain", she purred, her eyes openly riveted upon Kirk. *Then, finally peering beyond him, adding belatedly, "Sirs".

Kirk instantly lit up like a breeching warp core and drew breath to launch into his usual, patented 'spiel', when each of his companions seized him by a surprisingly well-toned arm and propelled him bodily into the waiting turbo-lift, nodding curtly to the clearly disappointed cadet as they passed her.

"Yeah, that's EXACTLY what I'm talking about!", Kirk muttered glumly as young Spock deftly overrode the lift's tracer beacon and programmed an unlogged trip to the comparatively remote Transporter Room 37.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the farthest edge of the last outbuilding in the Starfleet complex, Transporter Room 37 was the favorite haunt of both officers and crew who might have inadvertently overstayed their 'wee bout of shore-leave' just a bit. *It was the perfect way for a 'sensor ghost' to get back to where he, or she actually belonged, without attracting too much attention from those Security-types who might enjoy catching them at this sort of thing.

Charging into the darkened chamber as if they owned the place, Kirk and the dual Spocks were reassured to behold the animated figure of Chief Engineer Scott, manipulating the control console like a physical extension of his own rapidly weaving fingers.

"Still exciting enough for you?", Kirk queried as his leapt onto the dimly lighted pad in the raised corner of the shadowy room.

"Aye, Sir", the wiry Scotsman chirruped in his signature brogue. *"I'm livin' the dream, Sir!"

In a barely more businesslike tone than before, he continued, "Pad 1, to the Cascade Foothills; Pads 2 and 3, to the Captain's quarters on Enterprise," deeply sighing then, *"Good luck, gentlemen."

Kirk merely tossed off a mock salute, winked conspirationally, and turned away, leaving the two Vulcans a moment of semi-privacy.

"Your Suzanne is a fortunate woman," the younger Spock murmured as he gave the Vulcan hand sign of parting. *"May you find her again in your journeys."

Returning the traditional gesture, Spock (Prime) rejoined, "As is your Nyota.*It is a course of action I considered more than once in my own timeline."

Scott, the controls, and the transporter room itself began to fade around them now, as the trio of adventurers dissolved into whatever awaited them...in a universe gone completely insane.

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter five

As Spock rematerialized in the spectacularly cloudless, orange Oregon dawn, the first thing he noticed was the staggering *early morning chill in the air on this fledgling summer day. *He had scarcely a microsecond to process this, however, as his horrified eyes widened to take in the wholly unfamiliar scene around him. *He absently reached for his tricorder, to double check his position, before realizing that he was not carrying one. *Now, the stymied Vulcan would have to gather his data the 'old-fashioned' way.

Pushing aside the tough, thorny blackberry and thistle vines that impeded his every step on the wet, spongy ground, Spock gazed around him in a slow, careful circle, surveying the chaos he had landed amidst. *The ancient maple tree, standing proudly and unbelievably tall in the northwest corner of the property was severely overgrown; it's weighty branches dragging the ground for several meters in every direction around it. *Beyond this, a row of long untended arbor-vida and the uncharacteristically sluggish, brush-clogged river were sparkling in the rapidly ascending sunlight. *Now, blue-jays and squirrels appeared, seemingly from nowhere, arriving from out of the clear blue sky, and from beneath the fern-choked ground cover, respectively--angry at his abrupt intrusion into their heretofore undisturbed habitat. *And in the distance, only the purple-tinged, pine-topped mountains which comprised the next ridge were even vaguely recognizable to him.

Of course! *Understanding thundered in upon him, feeling like the collapsed eight foot block wall on the acreage's southernmost border looked. *In THIS timeline, my mother was cut down in her prime! She never lived to take possession of the family's estate! *I am a FOOL, Spock thought dismally, as he edged along the mossy brick pathway toward the still indiscernible house which waited, he had surmised, some thirty meters or so farther along.

His depression abated, somewhat, as he finally managed to catch his first glimpse of the structure he had so dreaded coming upon. *The duranium siding--fashioned to look and feel like cedar planking--seemed to have done it's job admirably. *A comfortable, even quaint, little cottage arose from the woods before him and he unconsciously quickened his pace. *Unbroken duraglass bay windows greeted him cheerfully as he worked his way around to the back of the building. *Even the 'brick' chimney was intact, scraping the cobalt veil of sky above him and birthing in him a dimly renewed sense of *hope.

Noting the curious absence of the 'backyard' shuttlepad as he approached the nearly hidden rear door, Spock breathed a silent prayer as he removed his sonic key from a secure pocket and waved it at the tarnished lock. Against impossible odds, the faded blue-painted door creaked inwards with surprisingly little resistance as he pushed it away from himself.

With alacrity, the fiercely competing stenches of dust and mold assailed his nostrils, as he stepped through into the carefully preserved country kitchen, causing Spock a brief but potent wave of nausea, after having become accustomed to the pristine outdoor air. *He recovered his senses just in time to detect the unmistakable skittering of tiny claws across hardwood flooring, as what seemed a legion a field-mice scampered away from the unexpected intruder. *Apparently, the solidly built dwelling had not entirely managed to keep out the relentlessly wet Oregon weather, or it's attendant pests, after all.

Raking through cobwebs and stumbling over the odd 'misplaced' chair, Spock made his way straight into the tiny sitting room, to the antique oaken desk, where he discovered a ridiculously out-of-date computer, proudly bearing the name, 'Microsoft 7700'. *Unbidden, a distinct image of Jim...HIS Jim...sprang into his mind. *It was at the moment when the good captain had discovered what type of electronics were installed in his quarters, as he'd taken command of the Enterprise. "Aw crap, NOT windows!", Kirk had complained at the time, "How DO they keep selling this shit!" Spock allowed himself a small, tight smile at the memory.

Several frustrating minutes later, Spock had activated the battery power, sifted through the idiotic muddle of the machine's so-called filing system, and finally called up 'Public Records'. *"Suzanne Helen Enos", recited the artificial female voice as the requested data came online. *"Killed, with both parents, in shuttle accident over Santa Monica, California on Stardate 2245.7. *Details appended."

"Cancel", Spock croaked, a new and far more intense wave of vertigo washing through him, now. So that was it, he mused, unsuccessfully blinking back the sudden onrush of tears. *He had no choice now. *He would simply have to find a way to get home.

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter six

Spock was completely oblivious to the spectacular woodland scenery surrounding him as he trudged along the riverbank that would lead him into the tiny town of Cottage Grove. *The dappled sunlight, playing across his thoughtful countenance seemed only to enhance the inner turmoil being telegraphed on his haggard face. *The occasional nature lover who chanced to pass him on the trail was loathe to speak to him, and risk reprisal by this so obviously tormented soul.

Against his better judgement, Spock had entertained the notion that this timeline might simply be a 'reboot', wherein all of the people and places he knew had merely been set back fifty years, and that, from here, *things would unfold for him as they had before. *However, recent events had conspired to shatter this misconception in a most cruel manner: the untimely death of his mother, the destruction of Vulcan, and now, the stunning revelation that Suzanne had been killed as a child had forced him to accept that he was trapped within a completely different reality, having neither any bearing on, nor similarity to his own. *It was no longer just a simple matter of moving forward in time half a century; Spock must find a way to actually move between dimensions in order to recapture his lost love and regain his original life.

Stepping onto the faithfully restored covered bridge, which would take him across the river and onto Main Street at the edge of town, Spock's legendary ears suddenly caught the faint, distant hum of several one-man hovercraft heading in his direction. *Glancing around behind him was more than enough to confirm his worst fears. Seven tiny platforms, each bearing a uniformed figure with phaser drawn, were making a beeline for his position from three directions, trying to flank the Vulcan. Starfleet Security had found him.

Breaking into a dead run, Spock instinctively crouched low just as the first phaser beam lanced over his head, tearing away a rusty chunk of metal support strut mere inches from his straining neck. *He was across the bridge in seconds, sprinting onto the tranquil, nearly empty city street, passed the old used bookstore in which he had spent so many happy hours. *Plunging headlong into the first alley he came to, winding behind the ancient brick Methodist church and the town's only decent restaurant, Spock hurriedly made his way along the dimly lit, narrow passage formed by the barred back doors of a row of quaint little shops until he came to a fork that lead back to Main Street. Peering down this dingy walkway, from behind the comparative safety of a large metal dumpster, he saw two of the flying platforms whiz by the street opening, apparently looking to get ahead of him. They were boxing him in.

Icy fingers of desperation clutched at Spock as he whirled about and hastened down the back alley again. *From behind him came the unmistakable sound of a single hovercraft jetting up the alley, intent on blocking a retreat. *The Vulcan had only seconds before being run to ground. He was nearly to the far end of the alley, beyond which the *open park and the Historical Preservation Society's railroad tracks display--complete with a long row of rusted, useless logging cars and engines--loomed between him and his ultimate goal...the mall shuttleport.

Then, from just up ahead, came the incongruous titter of laughing children. Rounding the last concealed corner before the alley ended, Spock came upon a group of raggedy youngsters engaged in the time-honored pastime of playing 'Hide and Seek'. *There was evidently a 23rd century twist to this beloved children's game however; the 'hider' appeared to be wearing a light refracting cloak! *Losing no time in homing in on the disembodied heartbeat of the child, Spock withdrew his only possession of value from within his tunic--his mother's chronometer--and proffered it to the empty space before him, making his intention clear to the invisible child.

The cloak was whipped away, revealing a little girl with long red hair and flashing green eyes, which were now wide and staring at the humming, blinking chronometer with great interest. *Displaying a lopsided, toothy grin, the little girl instantly snatched the timepiece from Spock's outstretched hand and deposited the cloak in a sodden lump at his feet, then turned and ran away, all in one flowing motion. *No sooner had Spock wrapped himself in the cloak, than the lone guard who had been following him through the alley appeared, as if from nowhere, and then flew right on by the remaining children, sparing them hardly a glance. *Giving silent thanks to the literary exploits of a certain young wizard, upon whom this toy was based, Spock stepped out again into the (neatly refracted) light of day.

The trip across the park and railroad display was uneventful. *Spock calmly watched as the seven security guards wove a standard search pattern around the vast open area, of course, missing him completely. *His one fear, at this point, was that it would eventually occur to one of his overconfident hunters to take out their tricorder and scan the park. *If that happened, Spock knew, he was finished. *Mercifully, he finally thought from behind the last huge pine tree before reaching the shuttleport, it never did.

On the concourse, bustling with summer travelers and bored looking shoppers, Spock's burgeoning sense of hope was abruptly evaporated by the sight of three of the guards standing in front of the shuttleport kiosk, with phasers drawn and tricorders out and scanning. *As one the trio of intent faces snapped around in his direction, and they began moving toward him at a trot. *They had him!

Spinning around to run, Spock almost collided with a tall, heavyset balding man with a bushy, unkempt walrus mustache erupting across his plump face, who had quietly come up behind the Vulcan while his attention was diverted elsewhere. *Sighting carefully beyond the startled alien, the fat man casually raised his right arm and loosed three short, precise phaser bursts, felling the fast approaching security squad before they had taken scarce half a dozen steps.

"The name's Walsh...Leo Walsh, an' tis happy I am to be placin' meself at your service, Sir", crowed the ludicrous figure, his outrageous mustache quivering as he spoke in a barely passable affected Irish accent. Recognition slammed into Spock like the decompression of a shuttle bay after the failure of it's force field doors. *The Vulcan wasted several precious seconds just staring in utter incomprehension, then:

"Harcourt Fenton Mudd!"

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter seven

Wailing sirens and flashing alarm lights erupted simultaneously as the laughably incongruent pair turned to flee. Bystanders behaved as their collective name would imply, rooted in place with faces a mixture of annoyance and the beginnings of fear which Spock might have found mildly amusing if he'd had the time.

From around a corner some thirty meters ahead of the fugitives, came careening the remainder of the security squad, phasers drawn and aiming straight down the concourse in their direction. Mudd grabbed Spock roughly by the shoulder and shoved him aside just as the first phaser blast stabbed through the spot that had most recently been occupied by the Vulcan's chest.

Still no one moved to block their path as they sped through the nearest opening, that of an antiques store featuring an array of items from the early 21st century. A neatly arranged Wizard of Oz display suddenly exploded to Spock's left as another near miss singed by, sending the packaged Pez heads, bean bag figures, globes and a 24" Wicked Witch of the West doll flying in all directions. Once again, Spock refrained from smiling as, from over his right shoulder, he distinctly heard Mudd mutter, "There's no place like home!"

Carefully inspecting the area around them before stepping through the antiques store's rear entrance, Spock could hear the faint sounds of a new disturbance approaching. Evidently, Mudd had noticed it too as his face expanded into that wolfish grin which Spock knew so well. Removing a small device from his ill-fitting tunic, Mudd proceeded to scan them both in slow, precise head-to-toe motions as the sounds of guards crashing through the store towards them drew ever closer.

Completing the scans and setting the device to broadcast, Mudd stepped confidently into the mall, dragging a slowly comprehending Spock behind him, just as a trio of teenaged boys on hoverboards burst through the crowd of shoppers, leaving scattered, angry chaos in their wake. Just as the nearest boy screeched by with his board banked practically in their faces, Mudd flipped the device at him with an almost casual jerk of his wrist. The pair hid themselves in the entrance to the next store, behind a placard with a muscular flying man in red and blue announcing, 'Get the latest Comic Books here!', as the little scanner tumbled end over end in a lazy arc to land unerringly on the underside of the boy's board and magnetize itself there.

Mudd lost no time in withdrawing his communicator and spitting out the words, "Computer, two to beam up!" The hoverboarders were just rounding the next bend at the far end of the mall as the security squad barreled from the first store, scanned the area with their tricorders and charged after the rapidly retreating and completely oblivious children. The last traces of the signature transporter sparkle in the comic book store went unnoticed by the store's sole occupant, a 12 year old girl who was busily pawing through a pile of magazine's depicting the long-awaited marriage of a black-clad man with a menacing scowl and a woman who appeared to be wearing a rather skimpy version of the old American flag.

Already the ruffled shoppers were returning to their previous concerns, complacent looks re-affixed to their faces as they instantly forgot the excitement of scant moments before. The entire affair, from Spock's first encountering Mudd to their narrow escape into thin air had actually occurred in the space of less than two minutes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dark and dingy confines into which Spock and Mudd materialized were cramped and musty smelling. Exchanging a knowing glance they slid wordlessly into the two pilots seats and buckled in. A look out the grimy viewport told Spock what he had hopefully assumed; the tiny ship was already in space, rapidly climbing up out of the atmosphere, the blue orb beneath them spiraling away in what could only have been the result of their own rudimentary evasive maneuvers.
"Warning! Sixteen Starfleet security fliers are converging on this position from all directions.", said the familiar voice of the ship's computer. "Interception will occur in sixty seconds."

"Engage cloak, hard to port, ninety degrees.", barked the completely undistressed Mudd, his eyes alight with the thrill of the chase.

Obediently, the little ship turned on the proverbial dime, leaving the inertial dampers to emit a distinct burned wiring smell of futile protest. The now invisible craft instantly found itself on a collision course with the nearest three flyers, who were coming straight at them in a triangle formation. Deftly shifting the controls to manual, Mudd somehow managed to hurtle between the attackers, who were flying close enough to be clearly seen in their respective cockpits, even as the Starfleet pilots laid down a pattern of phaser fire in the last place they had sighted their quarry.

The other ships promptly veered in the direction of the latest action, undoubtedly calculating the most likely position of their troublesome prey, even as Mudd intoned, "Computer, evasive pattern Mudd 101.", returning control to the straining machine.

"Engines are beginning to superheat.", called Spock, as if his life didn't depend upon this latest development. "Hairline fractures appearing in aft plating, hull breach within three minutes."

Mudd was spared the necessity of a response as the com panel crackled to life and spoke to them. "This is Captain Mc Manus of the starship Endeavor." The no-nonsense voice was accompanied by the image on their tiny viewer of a middle-aged woman who, while still quite attractive, had obviously seen her share of tough space duty. "Drop your cloak, cut your engines and prepare to be boarded." She eyed them coldly, then, "I won't ask a second time."

The computer on their rapidly failing transportation was not in the least intimidated, however, and promptly cut sharply to starboard, which was more than enough punishment to set off the structural integrity alarms. "Hull breach in thirty seconds.", from the Vulcan.

The huge starship cast a daunting shadow on the renegade's viewport as it drew inexorably nearer, the sixteen smaller ships buzzing about like angry hornets, bringing exposure closer with each passing second. The cloaking device chose that moment to spark, flare and die, suddenly making the harried pair completely visible to nearly four hundred and fifty really pissed off Starfleet personnel.

"Shield's down, aft hull buckling, engine's dead…someone is locking onto us for transport." Even Spock couldn't quite mask his disappointment as the transporter beam resolutely took hold of them, shooting Mudd a last look that was almost an accusation.

Within seconds the pair materialized, not in the familiar surroundings of a starship transporter room flanked by guards, but in a remote looking cafe in an older, run-down section of Luna City…then they promptly vanished again. Reappearing on an unmanned orbital station, Mudd looked positively triumphant and Spock was slightly more prepared this time when they again dissolved as quickly as they'd come.

This molecular shuffling through the solar system occurred four more times: A mechanized aqua farm on Mars…quickly whisked away, a dilapidated cargo carrier on it's way to Saturn…then gone, a robotic observation station on Neptune…leaving nothing, and from there, on to their final destination.

Squinting against the bright lights of a spacious, shiny new space cruiser, Spock's blurred gaze finally fell upon the smiling visage of a confident, pretty young girl with flaming red hair and eyes the blue of a Tahitian lagoon, outfitted in the latest civilian style form-fitting pilot's suit.

"Hello, Cousin Spock.", the twenty-something young lady grinned more broadly as she extended her hand. "I'm Brandi Grayson".

 

[truespock]

Spock's Promise, chapter eight

A distinctly conspirational look passed between the laughing girl and the obviously pleased with himself Mudd as the trio moved through the gleaming space yacht toward the state-of-the-art control room. The feeling Spock had of waiting for the other shoe to drop was instantly rewarded as they entered the flight deck.

"Cousin Spock," Brandi called over her shoulder as she lead the men through the maze of impressive equipment which any Federation Starship would have been proud to call it's own, "This is my twin brother, Ian."

Turning to bestow that same blinding smile upon the newcomers as had his sister, Ian glibly announced, "We've gone to Warp, and Harry's ship is history!" This elicited a groan of mock despair from the rotund 'entrepreneur'.

"Don't worry, Harry. When you see the new one we've got for you, you'll forget all about that old garbage scow of yours." Then, "Welcome aboard, Cousin Spock. Bet you thought you'd had it, back there, eh?"

The boy obviously had more to tell and Spock was inclined to encourage him to do so. "The transporter trace?", he asked with slanted eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Aw hell, we lost 'em on Mars.", the young man crowed. "And my mall buddies with the hoverboards had your Security friends thoroughly discouraged in Idaho before they 'disappeared'!" Laughter all around at this, accept of course for Spock, who visibly relaxed nonetheless.

It was Mudd who broke the jovial mood somewhat by fixing his gaze on Brandi and deadpanning, "I don't suppose that we're in time for supper, young lady?"

"Oh, but you DO, and luckily…you ARE", she replied good naturedly. "This way gentlemen." Spock and Ian moved as one to place themselves between the retreating girl and the suspiciously overeager Mudd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So when Aunt Amanda married Sarek, daddy was so angry that he simply never spoke to her again", Brandi huffed from around a mouthful of replicated cheeseburger. "I guess he always thought he'd have time to change his mind, but now…" Her voice trailed off and a look of profound sadness washed over her lovely face that Spock would have thought it quite incapable of displaying.

'Daddy', Spock knew from his parallel experience in his own timeline, was Conrad Grayson, his mother's long-estranged brother and one of the richest mining consortium owners in the Alpha Quadrant. It had utterly broken Amanda's heart when Conrad had turned on her so ruthlessly, at the time of her engagement to the most famous Vulcan on Earth. Even in the universe where she had lived several decades longer than she had here, the siblings had never reconciled. Spock had always been quite certain that the perennial shadow which lurked behind his mother's eyes had been reserved for Conrad.

"But mom always made sure we kept in touch with Aunt Amanda", chimed in Ian, who was attacking a pound and a half of rare porterhouse steak with the kind of gusto usually associated with young men with virtually bottomless pocketbooks. "I don't know if dad ever figured it out or not, but either way, he's never said anything."

"And when Jim contacted us to say that you were here and would probably need some low profile help, we just hopped into daddy's new cruiser and here we are.", said Brandi, a dreamy look coming into her eyes at the mere mention of the oh-so-gallant Captain Kirk.

How does he DO that to every female he encounters?, wondered Spock for at least the billionth time as he surmised that his younger self had given Kirk the suggestion for approaching his off-the-radar cousins, and the Captain had been predictably impressed with the winsome Brandi.

"Let's not forget some fairly brilliant planning by yours truly", harrumphed Mudd, having just polished off his fourth piece of Andorian spice cake. "Why, I've done some of my best work to date on this little escapade", he finished, dabbing the walrus mustache with a linen napkin, clutched in his beefy fingers.

"And we're coming up on your payment just about now, Harry", announced Ian as he got up from the table and motioned for the stout con man to follow him. "Safely in orbit around the planet you specified and fully stocked."

Well, not FULLY stocked yet, thought Mudd as he mounted the steps to the transporter platform deftly handling the satchel of Federation credits the boy had just presented him with. A quick stop on the planet to see my contact about a 'beauty serum', and to recruit some local 'talent', and then it's off to Rigel to see just how much those wretched, lonely miners will pay for the girls of their dreams.

"By the way, Harry, a spare canister of warp plasma and a navigational unit seem to have been mistakenly placed in the bag with your money", Ian intoned with the sincerest of smiles. "I've taken them out again for you so the bag won't be so heavy. Good sailing, old friend."

Mudd's only response, as the transporter beam took him, was to grin sheepishly and mutter, "Call me Leo. The name's Leo Walsh."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young Kirk and Spock gazed passively across the desk at Commodore Mendez, as the older man grew increasing agitated by their innocent expressions. "If I find out that you've helped him in any way, your careers will be over before they start!"

Continuing, despite the lesser officer's stubborn silence, Mendez thundered, "This whole thing's been an inside job from the start. How did he escape confinement? Get a travel permit? Elude us in Oregon? Get off the planet? I think you two know something and we are going to sit here until you tell me what it is!" Pounding the desk for emphasis, the Commodore waited for either of his interviewees to speak.

Finally, Kirk did. "But Commodore, why are you after the guy in the first place? What has he done?"

"It's not what he HAS done; it's what he MIGHT do", Mendez spoke through clenched teeth. "Our temporal experts predict that if Spock Prime returns to his own timeline and somehow manages to avert the disaster to Romulus, there is a 97% probability that our own timeline will be erased." A dramatic pause, then, "Do either of you two really want to risk oblivion for this man?"

"Most reputable String Theorists today believe that an infinite number of timelines co-exist, each without affecting the others", Spock stated simply, his tone brooking no argument.

Mendez wasn't deterred however as he rejoined, "THEORY, not fact! I just can't take the chance with so much at stake! Spock Prime must be captured and returned to headquarters before he can carry out his plan."

Waving Spock to silence as the Vulcan drew breath to speak again, the Commodore went on. "Now, I know better than to enlist you two to help capture him, so I'm re-assigning you. Chief Mining Administrator Grayson has just reported two of his best private yachts as stolen. One of them has been spotted near Rigel. You are to take the Enterprise there and investigate. He's a very important man, so don't screw this up!"

As Kirk and Spock got up to leave, Mendez finished with a flourish, "Once again, gentlemen, God help anybody I find helping Spock Prime!" He curtly nodded then, indicating that they were dismissed.

 

[USS Fardell]

This is really good