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Entry tags:
Fic: "Linear Time"
Title: "Linear Time"
Rating: PG, for a tiny bit of foul language
Characters: Kirk, Spock, Sisko
Canon: TOS, ST:XI, DS9 (Specifically, TOS episode "The Trouble with Tribbles"; DS9 episodes "Emissary" and "Trials and Tribble-ations"; and the timeline shift of ST:XI taken into account so that the Kirk and Spock are the characters of the reboot timeline. And no, I swear I wasn't smoking anything when I thought of this.)
Word Count: 3,778
Summary: Kirk receives an unexpected communiqué after a very long day.
Notes: This fic is a going-away present for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mizuno_caitlin , the First Officer of the USS Macchiato, who is currently on assignment at a research station on the distant planet of... Japan. If this fic doesn't make sense to anyone else, that's okay. Number One... this is for you.
*********
Deep Space Station K7 was still floating outside the window of Kirk's quarters. He was still brushing goddamned tribble fur from his uniform. He hadn't even taken a single bite of the chicken salad sandwich he'd desperately wanted all day when the communiqué that had been transferred to his PADD thoroughly extinguished any trace of appetite he might have had. It was almost enough to make him forget about tribbles and Klingons and storage bins of glorified wheat. He vaguely heard the thud of the PADD hitting the wall behind him as he stormed out of his quarters and moved down the corridors as quickly as he could without alarming any crew members that passed by.
Hadn't this been a crazy enough day already? Couldn't he catch a single break? What cosmic joke had caused this much insanity to focus on a single point within the space-time continuum? And for the love of Romulans, would he ever get to sit down and eat his chicken sandwich and coffee in peace?
It took just a few seconds longer than Kirk could handle for Spock to answer the hail at his quarters. He spent those seconds mentally reviewing the communiqué he'd received and reconsidering how he was going to start this conversation with his First Officer. What the hell could he say? Are you crazy? What are you thinking? Don't go!
Despite the rocky start - understatement of the century, he thought to himself - Spock had been by his side since the beginning. They were an unlikely pair, sure, but despite his own hidden misgivings and Bones' cynical insistence that he would not spend any extra time patching Kirk back together if Spock had another inconvenient emotional compromise, they became fast friends. Something more than friends, maybe. Spock was a part of his life he hadn't known was missing until it snapped into place. He'd never really thought about it too much. Spock just belonged there. Was supposed to be there. And once he was there, Kirk had never considered the possibility that he wouldn't be. Was unable to fathom that he'd just suddenly be gone the next day. Was determined to say something to keep that from happening.
His hastily rehearsed diatribe flew out the airlock when the door slid open to reveal Spock, placid and solemn as always, standing just enough to the side to reinforce the implied invitation to enter. Gritting his teeth, Kirk gave a tight nod as he stalked into the room, then spun around as the door slid closed. He eyed Spock critically, waiting. Spock knew why he was there, so let him explain.
Spock tilted his head in acquiescence. "I anticipated that you would demand a complete rationale for my decision. I am prepared to give you as much information as you request, but I suspect that you would deem it insufficient."
Kirk let his mouth hang open for just a second before he let loose. "You're damned right, it would be insufficient. Why Spock? How long have you been thinking about this transfer? Why didn't you mention this before? Why this? Why now?"
"I received a personal request from the research station almost a year ago, but refused it at the time. They sent a second request two months ago, and I reconsidered. I hadn't mentioned it because until their request for my reassignment became official with Starfleet Headquarters, there was no need to cause you undue concern."
"Undue concern?" Kirk felt himself teetering briefly on the razor-edge between laughing and crying before he reined himself in, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're my First Officer, and you want to leave! I think that's cause for some very due concern if you ask me." He pinched the bridge of his nose and licked his lips, gathering his thoughts before he met Spock's gaze again. "You have the entire galaxy at your fingertips from the bridge of this ship. We've got the best lab equipment in the Federation. In the past two years, you've made more discoveries than most scientists make in a lifetime planetside. What could there possibly be for you on the Vulcan-Andorian research station on – of all the ridiculous places – Cygnus III?" Kirk could feel his cheek twitching. He was certain that Spock could see it, and he clenched his jaw in a vain attempt to stop it.
Spock raised his eyebrow, the equivalent of asking, Are you quite finished?
Knowing that it looked like sulking, and not quite caring at that point, Kirk stepped over to the couch and sat down heavily before he looked back up at Spock.
"Captain," Spock began evenly, but Kirk cut him off.
"Jim," he corrected, hearing the bitterness in his own voice. "Come on, Spock. It has to be Jim right now."
"Jim." Spock sat in the armchair opposite Kirk, poised as formally as ever. "You are correct – I do indeed have a wealth of resources aboard the Enterprise, and have had many opportunities for scientific research on our mission - often unique opportunities, might I add. That isn't in question. It is not a question of what there is in this arrangement for me. My current assignment lacks nothing I require for my career at this time."
"Then…?"
"It is the research station that is lacking."
Kirk frowned and cocked his head in confusion. "Then why would you go there?"
"For precisely that reason."
He couldn't help himself – Kirk laughed. "What? Isn't that… illogical?"
If Spock was insulted, he didn't let it show. Instead, with what could have been mistaken for a sigh, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked evenly at Kirk. "It's imminently logical. For the past two years, I've had every resource I could want for scientific study, and every opportunity for new discoveries. In other words, Jim, I've been… spoiled, as humans might say. Additionally, with my experience, I could provide fresh perspectives to the research team on Cygnus III. Many Vulcan scientists withdrew from the station after the loss of the homeworld, in favor of rebuilding our race and culture. At the same time, their work is currently focusing on temporal physics and terraforming techniques."
"Your two pet projects," Kirk said morosely, starting to understand.
"Ineloquent, but accurate."
"They need you."
"Indeed they do. Their needs outweigh mine at this time, as does their research, which may benefit the entire Federation. My presence is more valuable there at this moment than aboard the Enterprise."
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." Kirk felt his throat tighten. "You taught me that."
"A valuable lesson, Captain."
You've taught me plenty of those, Kirk thought, nodding slowly. "And you need this, too."
"Affirmative, Captain."
Kirk closed his eyes, realizing that this was an argument that had been lost long before he'd stormed out of his quarters after receiving the communiqué from the research station. There was no point in fighting it. "Six months, huh?"
"Initially," Spock said, and there was more to that statement, causing Kirk's breath to catch a bit in his chest.
He leaned toward Spock, trying to remember to breathe evenly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"My tenure there will depend greatly on the course of the project. With your approval, I will commit to a six-month obligation, but my decision to return to shipboard duty or remain on the science station will depend on the needs of both the Enterprise and the research station at that time."
"The Enterprise needs you!" Kirk blurted out before he could rein himself back. He took a breath and continued, more evenly this time, "I guarantee you that this ship - this crew - needs you." I need you. Kirk got a brief mental image of the science station on the bridge, filled by other capable, competent Starfleet officers... but not Spock. Shift after shift, day after day, with no Spock. Two years ago, he couldn't have pictured the depth of the friendship he might have forged with this man, regardless of the reassurances from ghosts of the future. Now, he couldn't imagine life without his almost symbiotic relationship with his First Officer. He swallowed tightly. "Don't think for a moment that your transfer won't leave a gaping hole on the bridge."
After a few tense seconds, Kirk saw a subtle shift in Spock's posture, and a sadness that ghosted across his face. His shoulders slumped, just barely, unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know Spock as well as Kirk did. "Jim," he began softly, the name sounding like a pact between friends, "do not allow yourself to believe that I have requested this transfer lightly." I really had to think about this. "Don't be concerned that it indicates any dissatisfaction with my experiences as part of the Enterprise's crew." I'm happy here. "I have forged valued friendships with many members of this crew and consider many of them to be k'war'ma'khon - family, not of blood, but of choice." You're part of my family, Jim.
"But you still want to leave."
"I believe it is a logical decision." He hesitated, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, looking pensive, thoughtful. "And... I believe that it... feels right."
For several seconds, Kirk looked at his first officer, feeling his heart thudding just a bit too hard in his chest, which seemed strangely hollow at that moment. Then, he took a slow breath and said, "I'm not going to let them put a new official First Officer on this bridge for the next six months. The instant you come back, that position is yours again."
Spock tilted his head. "Then you are approving my transfer request?"
Kirk squeezed his eyes shut and chuckled humorlessly. "You already knew I would. It's not my style to keep people stuck in an assignment when they want to do something else. But I'm glad you at least left me the chance to deny the transfer, even if it was only a formality." Swallowing against the tightness that was threatening his voice again, he sighed and stood with a lurch. Spock was on his feet to match, only a fraction of a second later.
"Captain, I regret if I have put you in a difficult position, but regulations state that it is required for you to appoint a First Officer if the position is to be vacant for more than thirty days."
Kirk let himself smile, though not happily. "Don't worry about that, Spock. I've memorized the regulations backwards and forwards, and you know what I think about regs."
"I believe your philosophy on regulations is that they are 'guidelines' of a sort."
Kirk's thin smile turned into an amused grin. "If I didn't know any better, Spock, I'd say you learned that from me while you've been assigned here."
"I've learned many things on this assignment, Captain, for which I am grateful."
"I'm grateful, too, Spock." His smile faded, and suddenly he needed to escape. Couldn't stand to look at Spock longer without trying to convince him to stay - a futile venture, he was sure. And he would never force Spock - or any crew member - to stay if they wanted to transfer to a new assignment. "I need to go. Paperwork to finish and send off to Starfleet. Tribbles and stuff. Klingons."
"I understand, Captain. Jim." For a moment, Kirk swore Spock smiled - a sad but fond expression that he'd never quite seen on the Vulcan before.
"Spock?"
"Perhaps, after your work is completed for tonight and we're en-route again, we could meet for a game of chess."
Kirk smiled. In the past two years they'd bonded over many games of chess. Spock had barely been able to hide his surprise when he learned that Kirk could thoroughly trounce him in 3D chess, and it had become a point of friendly contention ever since. More friendly than contention. "I'd like that."
"As would I. Goodnight, Jim."
"See you later, Spock."
The door to Spock's quarters hissed shut and Kirk was left with the muffled sound of his own footsteps against the floor of the corridors. The Enterprise hummed around him, still holding stationary position near DS K7. He thought about his sandwich on his desk in his quarters, but he'd lost his appetite. And as much as he wasn't feeling social, he didn't really want to be alone just then. He let his feet lead the way to the turbolift, and barely noticed himself say, "Bridge." He waved off the young Ensign who tried to call "Captain on the bridge!" Hadn't they all learned that he didn't like that? Wait, that kid had just transferred from the Revere, and this could very well be his first bridge shift. He'd learn.
New crew members. New people. They come, they stay, and they leave again. And there are some who I just can't bear to let go.
A moment later, he had checked in with the vital stations, had confirmed that all systems were running through their final diagnostics to check for remaining tribbles and damage they might have caused, and had ensconced himself in his ready room to bury himself in Very Important Documents. It helped pass the time before they could be underway again. One last mission with Spock, if the anticipated timeline was followed.
Time. Always too much of it, and never enough. And it was funny how the days of travel between missions sometimes dragged on endlessly, but now he found himself wishing that they'd travel just a little bit longer, a little bit slower, so that Spock would disembark just a little bit later. Yet the wheels of time would grind on and, barring a wormhole or some other disaster-inducing anomaly, they were traveling at a fixed, unerring rate on that line through time - unable to touch the past, and equally unable to rush ahead to the future. It was as impossible to hold fast to the now as it was to cut out the six months of not knowing whether he'd get Spock back. It was always now, and right now, he didn't know anything.
It took two hail chimes for Kirk to realize he'd heard anything, and a third for him to actually reply. "Enter."
A Lieutenant that Kirk didn't recognize came in holding a PADD. "Captain," he addressed formally, almost nervously, as he held out a PADD. "Some requisition forms from astrometrics require your approval."
Kirk took the PADD and cocked his head at the Lieutenant. Sure, there were some new crew members who'd been recently assigned, but he liked to think that he would at least remember their faces and names from the roster of profiles he received, but then again, the crew was large, and this man wasn't part of the bridge crew. While he hand-selected his bridge crew, general assignments and transfers only needed a cursory approval process, so it was possible he'd only seen this man's file briefly, and approved it with the last stack of transfers. "Thank you, Lieutenant...?"
The Lieutenant hesitated for a split second, then said, "Lieutenant Sisko, Sir. Temporary assignment, astrometrics."
"Sisko..." No, Kirk couldn't remember that name, but hell, it had been a long day. Fucking tribbles. "I thought Yeoman Rand was on duty this shift. She should have been able to bring these to me so you wouldn't have to be inconvenienced."
Kirk swore an unexpected blush tinted Sisko's cheeks as he briefly made eye contact. "I believe she was occupied... clearing tribble fur from your quarters."
Picturing the no-nonsense, formidable Yeoman doing tribble-fur decon in his quarters was enough to shock an unbridled laugh from Kirk. "Seriously... she's cleaning my quarters?"
"Captain, your ship-wide order was that you didn't want to see a scrap of tribble fur left on this ship by 0800 hours tomorrow."
Kirk nodded, smiling as he began to sign off on the requisition forms with his stylus. "You're right, I did say that." He chuckled lightly. "So, a temporary assignment, huh? I'm sorry I don't recall you from the roster. How long are you on board?"
"Not much longer, Sir." He didn't offer further detail, and Kirk might have merely thought he didn't want to speak too much in front of a senior officer, but there was something else. Incongruously, the man looked like he had a world of poise and his own leadership ability, but he also had the odd air of a person who wasn't accustomed to being star-struck. Sure, Kirk had gotten used to the occasional young officer who was in awe of meeting "THE Captain Kirk," but this seemed... different.
"Were you hoping for a longer assignment on the Enterprise, Mr. Sisko? I don't recall your record, but if we have a long term position open for a person of your skills, I could possibly arrange that."
Briefly, the man locked eyes with his, and Kirk could almost hear the emphatic, yes, but it was quickly reined in. "It would be an honor, Captain, but I have a good assignment waiting for me."
"No time for an extra six months," Kirk said absently, talking less about the wide-eyed Lieutenant in front of him and more about the pointy-eared Lieutenant Commander who was getting ready to leave him. "Never enough time for anything in this world, is there, Lieutenant?"
For a moment, Sisko was silent, as if contemplating whether that was rhetorical or not, but then he took a deep breath and said, in an entirely different and unexpected tone of voice, "I believe that time is what we make of it, and that's the price and reward of being human. Our comprehension of time is narrow, but in our linear existence, we get to experience the thrill of discovery, of the unknown. It defines us; drives us to want to explore and discover. We don't know what will happen tomorrow. We don't know what we'll find on the next hilltop or the next star system. That's why we look forward to tomorrow, and why we forge new frontiers. If we're to have that thrill, that joy, the cost is finite, limited, linear time. You're right, Sir. There is never enough of that. But that's what makes every moment so precious."
Taken completely by surprise, Kirk looked up at the Lieutenant's calm face, and into eyes that looked as if they could see outside of time itself. A dozen different thoughts spun through Kirk's mind - how time had altered his life; how time itself wasn't linear or limited, not really; how unexpected and out-of-place but right this Lieutenant's presence was; how you could never pretend to know what would happen next, but that was okay, because there was no such thing as a no win scenario. And not time, not distance, not losing his First Officer to assignments on the other side of the quadrant would be too much to handle.
Some things were stronger than time.
A warm feeling tightened his chest slightly, and he blinked a couple of times to keep his eyes from watering. "And that," Kirk said slowly, "is what makes each of us so precious."
The room was silent and still, but then Lieutenant Sisko moved suddenly, breaking the odd calm that had permeated the room. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said as he gathered up the PADD and stylus. "I shouldn't be intruding on your ready room or monopolizing your time when you clearly have work to do."
Kirk stood up, reaching out quickly and placing a hand on Sisko's arm. "It's okay, Lieutenant." He smiled. "I have all the time in the universe."
Sisko smiled in return. "You do, Sir. But for now, we must each live in our own present."
Kirk thought that meant something else that he couldn't quite figure out, but he let it drop, as he dropped his hand from Sisko's arm. It really had been a long day. "True. And I suppose you've got some experiment running, so I won't keep you. Thanks for bringing up the requisition forms."
Sisko smiled warmly. "No. Thank you, Sir." He hesitated, then tucked the PADD under his left arm, and said formally, almost as if he'd been rehearsing it, "And if I might take the opportunity to say, Captain Kirk, that it has been an honor serving with you."
"Likewise, Lieutenant. It's an honor serving with all of you. Every day." He nodded his head in a gentle dismissal, and watched as the door slid shut behind the Lieutenant.
Fine officer, he mused. Seems a man like that, of his age, should have made Commander by now. Maybe he started in Starfleet late. Like Bones. Wonder what Bones will think of Spock leaving. I know they squabble, but he'll miss the 'green-blooded hobgoblin,' and he knows it. I'll miss him. I already miss him, and he's not even gone yet.
With his thoughts swirling, he sat down with the intent to look up Lieutenant Sisko's record, but he couldn't focus on the PADD in front of him. Instead, he spun his chair around and gazed out the viewport, watching DS K7 spin serenely in space, thinking nebulous thoughts about people lost and found, time ripped and twisted, and space explored and unknown. He wondered what tomorrow would bring, and if his perceptions even scratched the surface of reality. He lost himself in wondering if six months was such a long time. Two years. Ten. Wondering if the universe was really so big, and if eternity was really so long.
"To see the world in a grain of sand," he whispered, "And heaven in a wild flower... hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour." He'd easily read that poem a hundred times. It was inscribed into a stone sign on the edge of the Starfleet Academy grounds. It was easily three centuries old, but it had been well maintained - a relic from the days when the area was the Golden Gate Promenade, as the sign boldly proclaimed.
If a small piece of rock that was three centuries old and inscribed with a poem that was older still, could make a modern Starfleet Captain pause and think, then maybe the universe wasn't such a big place after all. Spock wasn't so far away, and it wasn't such a long time. Not really. And the thrill of the unknown, of what would happen next, would continue to guide him to his next destination on his linear journey through time.
He glanced back down at his PADD. There was plenty of time for work... later. Right now, he had a chess game to play with an old friend.
Rating: PG, for a tiny bit of foul language
Characters: Kirk, Spock, Sisko
Canon: TOS, ST:XI, DS9 (Specifically, TOS episode "The Trouble with Tribbles"; DS9 episodes "Emissary" and "Trials and Tribble-ations"; and the timeline shift of ST:XI taken into account so that the Kirk and Spock are the characters of the reboot timeline. And no, I swear I wasn't smoking anything when I thought of this.)
Word Count: 3,778
Summary: Kirk receives an unexpected communiqué after a very long day.
Notes: This fic is a going-away present for
mizuno_caitlin , the First Officer of the USS Macchiato, who is currently on assignment at a research station on the distant planet of... Japan. If this fic doesn't make sense to anyone else, that's okay. Number One... this is for you.Deep Space Station K7 was still floating outside the window of Kirk's quarters. He was still brushing goddamned tribble fur from his uniform. He hadn't even taken a single bite of the chicken salad sandwich he'd desperately wanted all day when the communiqué that had been transferred to his PADD thoroughly extinguished any trace of appetite he might have had. It was almost enough to make him forget about tribbles and Klingons and storage bins of glorified wheat. He vaguely heard the thud of the PADD hitting the wall behind him as he stormed out of his quarters and moved down the corridors as quickly as he could without alarming any crew members that passed by.
Hadn't this been a crazy enough day already? Couldn't he catch a single break? What cosmic joke had caused this much insanity to focus on a single point within the space-time continuum? And for the love of Romulans, would he ever get to sit down and eat his chicken sandwich and coffee in peace?
It took just a few seconds longer than Kirk could handle for Spock to answer the hail at his quarters. He spent those seconds mentally reviewing the communiqué he'd received and reconsidering how he was going to start this conversation with his First Officer. What the hell could he say? Are you crazy? What are you thinking? Don't go!
Despite the rocky start - understatement of the century, he thought to himself - Spock had been by his side since the beginning. They were an unlikely pair, sure, but despite his own hidden misgivings and Bones' cynical insistence that he would not spend any extra time patching Kirk back together if Spock had another inconvenient emotional compromise, they became fast friends. Something more than friends, maybe. Spock was a part of his life he hadn't known was missing until it snapped into place. He'd never really thought about it too much. Spock just belonged there. Was supposed to be there. And once he was there, Kirk had never considered the possibility that he wouldn't be. Was unable to fathom that he'd just suddenly be gone the next day. Was determined to say something to keep that from happening.
His hastily rehearsed diatribe flew out the airlock when the door slid open to reveal Spock, placid and solemn as always, standing just enough to the side to reinforce the implied invitation to enter. Gritting his teeth, Kirk gave a tight nod as he stalked into the room, then spun around as the door slid closed. He eyed Spock critically, waiting. Spock knew why he was there, so let him explain.
Spock tilted his head in acquiescence. "I anticipated that you would demand a complete rationale for my decision. I am prepared to give you as much information as you request, but I suspect that you would deem it insufficient."
Kirk let his mouth hang open for just a second before he let loose. "You're damned right, it would be insufficient. Why Spock? How long have you been thinking about this transfer? Why didn't you mention this before? Why this? Why now?"
"I received a personal request from the research station almost a year ago, but refused it at the time. They sent a second request two months ago, and I reconsidered. I hadn't mentioned it because until their request for my reassignment became official with Starfleet Headquarters, there was no need to cause you undue concern."
"Undue concern?" Kirk felt himself teetering briefly on the razor-edge between laughing and crying before he reined himself in, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're my First Officer, and you want to leave! I think that's cause for some very due concern if you ask me." He pinched the bridge of his nose and licked his lips, gathering his thoughts before he met Spock's gaze again. "You have the entire galaxy at your fingertips from the bridge of this ship. We've got the best lab equipment in the Federation. In the past two years, you've made more discoveries than most scientists make in a lifetime planetside. What could there possibly be for you on the Vulcan-Andorian research station on – of all the ridiculous places – Cygnus III?" Kirk could feel his cheek twitching. He was certain that Spock could see it, and he clenched his jaw in a vain attempt to stop it.
Spock raised his eyebrow, the equivalent of asking, Are you quite finished?
Knowing that it looked like sulking, and not quite caring at that point, Kirk stepped over to the couch and sat down heavily before he looked back up at Spock.
"Captain," Spock began evenly, but Kirk cut him off.
"Jim," he corrected, hearing the bitterness in his own voice. "Come on, Spock. It has to be Jim right now."
"Jim." Spock sat in the armchair opposite Kirk, poised as formally as ever. "You are correct – I do indeed have a wealth of resources aboard the Enterprise, and have had many opportunities for scientific research on our mission - often unique opportunities, might I add. That isn't in question. It is not a question of what there is in this arrangement for me. My current assignment lacks nothing I require for my career at this time."
"Then…?"
"It is the research station that is lacking."
Kirk frowned and cocked his head in confusion. "Then why would you go there?"
"For precisely that reason."
He couldn't help himself – Kirk laughed. "What? Isn't that… illogical?"
If Spock was insulted, he didn't let it show. Instead, with what could have been mistaken for a sigh, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked evenly at Kirk. "It's imminently logical. For the past two years, I've had every resource I could want for scientific study, and every opportunity for new discoveries. In other words, Jim, I've been… spoiled, as humans might say. Additionally, with my experience, I could provide fresh perspectives to the research team on Cygnus III. Many Vulcan scientists withdrew from the station after the loss of the homeworld, in favor of rebuilding our race and culture. At the same time, their work is currently focusing on temporal physics and terraforming techniques."
"Your two pet projects," Kirk said morosely, starting to understand.
"Ineloquent, but accurate."
"They need you."
"Indeed they do. Their needs outweigh mine at this time, as does their research, which may benefit the entire Federation. My presence is more valuable there at this moment than aboard the Enterprise."
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." Kirk felt his throat tighten. "You taught me that."
"A valuable lesson, Captain."
You've taught me plenty of those, Kirk thought, nodding slowly. "And you need this, too."
"Affirmative, Captain."
Kirk closed his eyes, realizing that this was an argument that had been lost long before he'd stormed out of his quarters after receiving the communiqué from the research station. There was no point in fighting it. "Six months, huh?"
"Initially," Spock said, and there was more to that statement, causing Kirk's breath to catch a bit in his chest.
He leaned toward Spock, trying to remember to breathe evenly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"My tenure there will depend greatly on the course of the project. With your approval, I will commit to a six-month obligation, but my decision to return to shipboard duty or remain on the science station will depend on the needs of both the Enterprise and the research station at that time."
"The Enterprise needs you!" Kirk blurted out before he could rein himself back. He took a breath and continued, more evenly this time, "I guarantee you that this ship - this crew - needs you." I need you. Kirk got a brief mental image of the science station on the bridge, filled by other capable, competent Starfleet officers... but not Spock. Shift after shift, day after day, with no Spock. Two years ago, he couldn't have pictured the depth of the friendship he might have forged with this man, regardless of the reassurances from ghosts of the future. Now, he couldn't imagine life without his almost symbiotic relationship with his First Officer. He swallowed tightly. "Don't think for a moment that your transfer won't leave a gaping hole on the bridge."
After a few tense seconds, Kirk saw a subtle shift in Spock's posture, and a sadness that ghosted across his face. His shoulders slumped, just barely, unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know Spock as well as Kirk did. "Jim," he began softly, the name sounding like a pact between friends, "do not allow yourself to believe that I have requested this transfer lightly." I really had to think about this. "Don't be concerned that it indicates any dissatisfaction with my experiences as part of the Enterprise's crew." I'm happy here. "I have forged valued friendships with many members of this crew and consider many of them to be k'war'ma'khon - family, not of blood, but of choice." You're part of my family, Jim.
"But you still want to leave."
"I believe it is a logical decision." He hesitated, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, looking pensive, thoughtful. "And... I believe that it... feels right."
For several seconds, Kirk looked at his first officer, feeling his heart thudding just a bit too hard in his chest, which seemed strangely hollow at that moment. Then, he took a slow breath and said, "I'm not going to let them put a new official First Officer on this bridge for the next six months. The instant you come back, that position is yours again."
Spock tilted his head. "Then you are approving my transfer request?"
Kirk squeezed his eyes shut and chuckled humorlessly. "You already knew I would. It's not my style to keep people stuck in an assignment when they want to do something else. But I'm glad you at least left me the chance to deny the transfer, even if it was only a formality." Swallowing against the tightness that was threatening his voice again, he sighed and stood with a lurch. Spock was on his feet to match, only a fraction of a second later.
"Captain, I regret if I have put you in a difficult position, but regulations state that it is required for you to appoint a First Officer if the position is to be vacant for more than thirty days."
Kirk let himself smile, though not happily. "Don't worry about that, Spock. I've memorized the regulations backwards and forwards, and you know what I think about regs."
"I believe your philosophy on regulations is that they are 'guidelines' of a sort."
Kirk's thin smile turned into an amused grin. "If I didn't know any better, Spock, I'd say you learned that from me while you've been assigned here."
"I've learned many things on this assignment, Captain, for which I am grateful."
"I'm grateful, too, Spock." His smile faded, and suddenly he needed to escape. Couldn't stand to look at Spock longer without trying to convince him to stay - a futile venture, he was sure. And he would never force Spock - or any crew member - to stay if they wanted to transfer to a new assignment. "I need to go. Paperwork to finish and send off to Starfleet. Tribbles and stuff. Klingons."
"I understand, Captain. Jim." For a moment, Kirk swore Spock smiled - a sad but fond expression that he'd never quite seen on the Vulcan before.
"Spock?"
"Perhaps, after your work is completed for tonight and we're en-route again, we could meet for a game of chess."
Kirk smiled. In the past two years they'd bonded over many games of chess. Spock had barely been able to hide his surprise when he learned that Kirk could thoroughly trounce him in 3D chess, and it had become a point of friendly contention ever since. More friendly than contention. "I'd like that."
"As would I. Goodnight, Jim."
"See you later, Spock."
The door to Spock's quarters hissed shut and Kirk was left with the muffled sound of his own footsteps against the floor of the corridors. The Enterprise hummed around him, still holding stationary position near DS K7. He thought about his sandwich on his desk in his quarters, but he'd lost his appetite. And as much as he wasn't feeling social, he didn't really want to be alone just then. He let his feet lead the way to the turbolift, and barely noticed himself say, "Bridge." He waved off the young Ensign who tried to call "Captain on the bridge!" Hadn't they all learned that he didn't like that? Wait, that kid had just transferred from the Revere, and this could very well be his first bridge shift. He'd learn.
New crew members. New people. They come, they stay, and they leave again. And there are some who I just can't bear to let go.
A moment later, he had checked in with the vital stations, had confirmed that all systems were running through their final diagnostics to check for remaining tribbles and damage they might have caused, and had ensconced himself in his ready room to bury himself in Very Important Documents. It helped pass the time before they could be underway again. One last mission with Spock, if the anticipated timeline was followed.
Time. Always too much of it, and never enough. And it was funny how the days of travel between missions sometimes dragged on endlessly, but now he found himself wishing that they'd travel just a little bit longer, a little bit slower, so that Spock would disembark just a little bit later. Yet the wheels of time would grind on and, barring a wormhole or some other disaster-inducing anomaly, they were traveling at a fixed, unerring rate on that line through time - unable to touch the past, and equally unable to rush ahead to the future. It was as impossible to hold fast to the now as it was to cut out the six months of not knowing whether he'd get Spock back. It was always now, and right now, he didn't know anything.
It took two hail chimes for Kirk to realize he'd heard anything, and a third for him to actually reply. "Enter."
A Lieutenant that Kirk didn't recognize came in holding a PADD. "Captain," he addressed formally, almost nervously, as he held out a PADD. "Some requisition forms from astrometrics require your approval."
Kirk took the PADD and cocked his head at the Lieutenant. Sure, there were some new crew members who'd been recently assigned, but he liked to think that he would at least remember their faces and names from the roster of profiles he received, but then again, the crew was large, and this man wasn't part of the bridge crew. While he hand-selected his bridge crew, general assignments and transfers only needed a cursory approval process, so it was possible he'd only seen this man's file briefly, and approved it with the last stack of transfers. "Thank you, Lieutenant...?"
The Lieutenant hesitated for a split second, then said, "Lieutenant Sisko, Sir. Temporary assignment, astrometrics."
"Sisko..." No, Kirk couldn't remember that name, but hell, it had been a long day. Fucking tribbles. "I thought Yeoman Rand was on duty this shift. She should have been able to bring these to me so you wouldn't have to be inconvenienced."
Kirk swore an unexpected blush tinted Sisko's cheeks as he briefly made eye contact. "I believe she was occupied... clearing tribble fur from your quarters."
Picturing the no-nonsense, formidable Yeoman doing tribble-fur decon in his quarters was enough to shock an unbridled laugh from Kirk. "Seriously... she's cleaning my quarters?"
"Captain, your ship-wide order was that you didn't want to see a scrap of tribble fur left on this ship by 0800 hours tomorrow."
Kirk nodded, smiling as he began to sign off on the requisition forms with his stylus. "You're right, I did say that." He chuckled lightly. "So, a temporary assignment, huh? I'm sorry I don't recall you from the roster. How long are you on board?"
"Not much longer, Sir." He didn't offer further detail, and Kirk might have merely thought he didn't want to speak too much in front of a senior officer, but there was something else. Incongruously, the man looked like he had a world of poise and his own leadership ability, but he also had the odd air of a person who wasn't accustomed to being star-struck. Sure, Kirk had gotten used to the occasional young officer who was in awe of meeting "THE Captain Kirk," but this seemed... different.
"Were you hoping for a longer assignment on the Enterprise, Mr. Sisko? I don't recall your record, but if we have a long term position open for a person of your skills, I could possibly arrange that."
Briefly, the man locked eyes with his, and Kirk could almost hear the emphatic, yes, but it was quickly reined in. "It would be an honor, Captain, but I have a good assignment waiting for me."
"No time for an extra six months," Kirk said absently, talking less about the wide-eyed Lieutenant in front of him and more about the pointy-eared Lieutenant Commander who was getting ready to leave him. "Never enough time for anything in this world, is there, Lieutenant?"
For a moment, Sisko was silent, as if contemplating whether that was rhetorical or not, but then he took a deep breath and said, in an entirely different and unexpected tone of voice, "I believe that time is what we make of it, and that's the price and reward of being human. Our comprehension of time is narrow, but in our linear existence, we get to experience the thrill of discovery, of the unknown. It defines us; drives us to want to explore and discover. We don't know what will happen tomorrow. We don't know what we'll find on the next hilltop or the next star system. That's why we look forward to tomorrow, and why we forge new frontiers. If we're to have that thrill, that joy, the cost is finite, limited, linear time. You're right, Sir. There is never enough of that. But that's what makes every moment so precious."
Taken completely by surprise, Kirk looked up at the Lieutenant's calm face, and into eyes that looked as if they could see outside of time itself. A dozen different thoughts spun through Kirk's mind - how time had altered his life; how time itself wasn't linear or limited, not really; how unexpected and out-of-place but right this Lieutenant's presence was; how you could never pretend to know what would happen next, but that was okay, because there was no such thing as a no win scenario. And not time, not distance, not losing his First Officer to assignments on the other side of the quadrant would be too much to handle.
Some things were stronger than time.
A warm feeling tightened his chest slightly, and he blinked a couple of times to keep his eyes from watering. "And that," Kirk said slowly, "is what makes each of us so precious."
The room was silent and still, but then Lieutenant Sisko moved suddenly, breaking the odd calm that had permeated the room. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said as he gathered up the PADD and stylus. "I shouldn't be intruding on your ready room or monopolizing your time when you clearly have work to do."
Kirk stood up, reaching out quickly and placing a hand on Sisko's arm. "It's okay, Lieutenant." He smiled. "I have all the time in the universe."
Sisko smiled in return. "You do, Sir. But for now, we must each live in our own present."
Kirk thought that meant something else that he couldn't quite figure out, but he let it drop, as he dropped his hand from Sisko's arm. It really had been a long day. "True. And I suppose you've got some experiment running, so I won't keep you. Thanks for bringing up the requisition forms."
Sisko smiled warmly. "No. Thank you, Sir." He hesitated, then tucked the PADD under his left arm, and said formally, almost as if he'd been rehearsing it, "And if I might take the opportunity to say, Captain Kirk, that it has been an honor serving with you."
"Likewise, Lieutenant. It's an honor serving with all of you. Every day." He nodded his head in a gentle dismissal, and watched as the door slid shut behind the Lieutenant.
Fine officer, he mused. Seems a man like that, of his age, should have made Commander by now. Maybe he started in Starfleet late. Like Bones. Wonder what Bones will think of Spock leaving. I know they squabble, but he'll miss the 'green-blooded hobgoblin,' and he knows it. I'll miss him. I already miss him, and he's not even gone yet.
With his thoughts swirling, he sat down with the intent to look up Lieutenant Sisko's record, but he couldn't focus on the PADD in front of him. Instead, he spun his chair around and gazed out the viewport, watching DS K7 spin serenely in space, thinking nebulous thoughts about people lost and found, time ripped and twisted, and space explored and unknown. He wondered what tomorrow would bring, and if his perceptions even scratched the surface of reality. He lost himself in wondering if six months was such a long time. Two years. Ten. Wondering if the universe was really so big, and if eternity was really so long.
"To see the world in a grain of sand," he whispered, "And heaven in a wild flower... hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour." He'd easily read that poem a hundred times. It was inscribed into a stone sign on the edge of the Starfleet Academy grounds. It was easily three centuries old, but it had been well maintained - a relic from the days when the area was the Golden Gate Promenade, as the sign boldly proclaimed.
If a small piece of rock that was three centuries old and inscribed with a poem that was older still, could make a modern Starfleet Captain pause and think, then maybe the universe wasn't such a big place after all. Spock wasn't so far away, and it wasn't such a long time. Not really. And the thrill of the unknown, of what would happen next, would continue to guide him to his next destination on his linear journey through time.
He glanced back down at his PADD. There was plenty of time for work... later. Right now, he had a chess game to play with an old friend.