Jim was trying not to let his worry over Spock cloud his judgement, to take it out on this man in case he didn’t do anything to Spock but it was hard. He looked exactly like him and he was here while Spock was missing. His attitude didn’t help, he seemed so much colder than Spock and Jim found himself echoing that to a degree. ”Your equipment is damaged and we’re working on fixing it so we can read the data.”
A tachyon field? If there’d been an explosion involving that, that could explain a few things. It wasn’t the first time they’d dealt with alternate time lines but this one seemed so much different and he wondered if the Ambassador had ever run into it. It didn’t matter, what mattered was getting Spock back and returning this one to where he belonged. ”You didn’t see him down there? Didn’t capture him or anything?”
Jim’s unease ratcheted up a few more notches. If this one didn’t do anything with Spock, then where was he? ”If you’re here, could he be where you were?” That made him feel sick, that Spock was lost somewhere that he couldn’t find him. ”Bones, how much longer until he’s well enough to show us how his equipment works?”
Tachyon field? McCoy was no physicist, but he knew how dangerous it was to mess with anything that temperamental. He fell silent, not sure what he could ask that Jim already hadn’t asked. Jim would know more about what had occurred than he would, especially since he’d spoken with Ambassador Spock about the Red Matter, before it had all been used to destroy Nero’s vessel.
He moved around the biobed, making sure everything was being recorded. This wasn’t their Spock and he had to make sure there was a record of what transpired. He paused, glancing sidelong at Jim. The wounds were mostly superficial and, under normal circumstances, he’d be all for sending their First Officer back to work.
But this wasn’t Spock.
Jerking his chin, he beckoned Jim away from the biobed and not-Spock. He didn’t want the doppelganger to overhear him. And only when Jim was far enough away, did he lower his voice. ”His wounds are mostly superficial, Jim. If he was our Spock, I’d say get a good night’s rest and be back on shift for Alpha tomorrow.” But he shook his head. ”Since he’s not ours, I don’t think he needs to know that, though.”
The longer they could keep Spock prone, the more they might find out. Or so he hoped.
They went off to talk in private, and Spock closed his eyes to focus on his hearing. He could barely hear a hushed whisper between them, and he could not hear enough to know what they had planned. It was frustrating as was everything else in this universe that he found himself in.
A human, his captain, would be fighting the bonds and demanding to be set free in an aggressive manner, but Spock knew that he’d get better treatment by being nice. He hadn’t been raised by the Governor of Vulcan and Sarek without learning how to manipulate humans. It would be even easier in this reality where these humans were weak and trusting. He could taste their worry for their Spock. It was nauseating.
Unable to leave, and unwilling to present a bad impression, Spock did the only thing he could do logically—he went to sleep.
I need more mirror spock shirtless…. and just draw him then
Spock had sensed there was something very accessible to the other’s mind. He tried to get to it before he close it off, but his attempt was noticed. He listened to his suggestion, glad he was not pressing on for him to open up his mind with the threat of Jim Kirk’s impending death. Spock had no clue what was going on, where the rest was, or why this other Spock found it logical to tie him down with a gag. He hoped indeed that his mirror image would let him see his universe, perhaps he would gain the bit of understanding he needed for those illogical acts.
He did not budge, but he could feel the other’s nerves, his anxiousness to get what he wanted, and fast. Why? It was all he sent in return. ‘Why?’ Spock was relieved when the meld was broken, but he was cautious as well. He did not know what he could expect. When the gag was removed, he could finally move his jaw, but he did not take his eyes off the other Vulcan. “If you do lie and you are a Vulcan, then yes, you are right and that statement is untrue.” He spoke calmly. “But perhaps if your universe is of a different nature, I might prove to be not as much of a fool as you think.” Dark brown eyes slightly narrowed at his bearded counterpart.
“I find this place interesting,” the bearded Vulcan said, as he moved about Spock’s quarters, picking up this and that. He knew it would bother the other as much as it annoyed him. Spock did not like his possessions handled. It was a violation of privacy, and privacy was something that Vulcan society prized above all else.
“We have some of the same belongings.” He plucked a string on the Vulcan lyre. “I assume that you play. I have not in many years. There was no time since becoming Kirk’s first officer. He does not feel it beneficial to his ship for me to spend time in frivolous activities.” And he hated him for it. He looked at the other while letting his fingers softly brush over the strings once more, notes barely above a whisper reaching his sensitive ears. “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Spock. I want you to help me.”
He’d have grumbled, if it would have done any good. But McCoy knew better. Kirk was a tenacious bastard on his best days and a stubborn mule on his worst. But rationally, he knew Kirk was right. Collect what they had before them and then branch out. McCoy knew he’d be up to his eyeballs in new samples, specimens and options when all was said and done, so he nodded without comment and disappeared into the facility to look the equipment over. Bitching would have been viewed as a weakness, and while he was a hardy bastard, having either Spock or Kirk viewing him as weak was a mistake.
A fatal mistake. He’d spaced people for less.
He was aware of the two other men, and kept half an ear open to listen in case they needed him, or he could suss out anything that might be of use later against them. One could never be too careful.
Most of the equipment was rusty, though surprisingly still useful. Interesting. Of course, it was built by the occupying military force. Military was well-known for building things that lasted. They needed to. All of their excess funds went to artillery. There were items that might be able to be used, though they’d need to be cleaned up and reworked. Hearing Spock’s request, McCoy cleared his throat and glanced Kirk’s way. ”Same goes for me, Jim. Most’a this stuff is too rusty to be salvaged. Been out in the elements too long. But there are some things that might be of use to us. Permission to beam ‘em aboard to be cleaned up?”
When all was said and done, they’d be one of the best equipped ships in the Empire. That was saying something. McCoy liked the idea that they’d have things no other ship had. Meant they’d have an edge if there was ever a rebellion. It also meant he’d need to stick close to Kirk and Spock, lest he wind up being tossed ass-first onto another vessel, to suffer the wrath and ire of another, lesser captain. McCoy wasn’t stupid. He knew where the best advantage lay.
The Commander’s office was empty when he found it. Of course the computer’s were nothing but junk after so long in the jungle, vines and plants crawled over nearly everything and he made a disgusted face as he poked into the few cabinets and drawers. There were a few actual record books instead of data pads but nothing of interesting. Glancing through them, he shut them again. Mostly bitching about the scientists and how badly their hands were tied when it came to the resources of the planet and its people.
Making sure there wasn’t anything useful, he headed back to the others. ”Find anything we can use?” He asked Bones, looking around for Spock. The Vulcan wasn’t in sight but he wasn’t too worried. He knew Spock wouldn’t stab him in the back and he was pretty sure about Bones but you could never be too careful. ”You can send anything you think we can use up, just make sure its decontaminated before you bring it inside the ship.”
His communicator beeped and he listened to Spock. ”Good, once we’re done here we can go there and see what they have for us.” He smirked. ”Who knows what advances they’ve made that we can use. Besides, if they’re not a part of the Empire, they should be. They’d fit right in.” Looking around the base, he huffed. ”Alright, lets get out of here and go find these natives so we can start digging out the resources.” He patted Bones on the back. ”And we can start getting your samples.”
“I have scanned the area, and the greatest concentration of sentient lifeforms is in that direction, four kilometers from this location,” Spock said when rejoined the Captain and McCoy. “They had no advanced weaponry when they were invaded in the past, but they may have learned to make them during the past ten years. I would suggest caution.”
He turned his focus to his tricorder, while opening his mind to the touch of the planet’s life force. He did not sense fear in the awareness, but there was a feeling of curiosity about them and especially about him. He kept it to himself. Until he learned more, or until he discovered what advantage there would be in sharing the information, Spock had no intention of telling either of his companions.
Spock let his tricorder fall to his side, and stepped to Kirk’s side with his hand near his weapon as they left the camp to head into the jungle. The terrain was rough where the jungle had encroached on the ruins. The jungle was much closer to the ruins than it had been when the base was active. “I estimate that the jungle will reclaim this area within eight standard years.”
A mind-meld, ofcourse. Spock would have preferred to converse, but this malignant version of himself seemed hardly likely to do so. Instead he forced his mind to open to the his own, establishing a one-sided connection. Spock did not close his eyes in the process, his will was strong and his skill well developed through meditation, the other had no chance without his consent.
He did not expect him to say what he did next. It was not the first time that someone threatened to kill his Captain, but this situation was entirely different. Spock did not want to let him into his mind for multiple reasons. He couldn’t speak, but now he could through telepathy. He was unaware of the precise situation he was in, and all he could tell right now was that Jim Kirk was still alive. 'I will not let you, I want to know my situation. If you are me, you shall not kill.' Ofcourse he was scared, but as long as he could keep his mind locked, Spock would hopefully learn some more. Surely it was a mere thread, was it not? Then again, Vulcans did not lie..
The other’s voice was loud, echoing in his mind louder than any he’d ever touched before. Not even melding with his father had been like this, and Spock had to put up his own mental barriers to hide his own thoughts. ‘You do not get to pry into my mind. Not yet. But perhaps I should let you see the universe that we came from. Perhaps then you would realize that your ideals mean very little to me.’
Spock knew he had only a limited amount of time to complete his mission. If he did not get the access codes for the ship’s computer and security systems, their invasion would end as quickly as it began. “It amuses me that you believe I would not kill, or that I cannot lie. We all lie, Spock,” he said, breaking the meld and speaking as he pulled the gag from his counterpart’s face. “It is the nature of Vulcans to lie, and anyone gullible enough to believe that we do not, is a fool.”
"I’m not going anywhere, Bones, not until he wakes up and answers some questions." His voice had a hard edge to it because he was worried about Spock and what was happening to him. If the Vulcan didn’t come back to them, safe and sound… Pulling over a chair, he sat down to wait for this man that looked so much like his friend to wake up and tell him what was going on.
After what felt like hours, the raspy voice jerked his attention from his PADD to the Vulcan on the biobed. ”I’m here but I want to know who you are and what you’ve done with my First Officer.” Putting his PADD down, he stood up and looked down at the impostor Spock. ”If you’ve hurt him, in any way…” He pulled back, getting himself back under control before he did something really stupid. ”You know us, somehow. Where are you from, how did you get here?”
The man on the biobed knew his name. He wasn’t Spock, or at least not their Spock. But he knew McCoy’s name. It was eerie to have the too-similar voice uttering his name as though they were acquainted. Remembering himself, McCoy kept as much professional distance as he could in his voice. ”Can’t be doin’ that, Spock.” And wasn’t it weird as hell to refer to this doppelganger by his friend’s name? ”Captain’s right here..” He echoed Jim for a second, and offered a quick quirk of his lips. ”You were injured down on the planet. We beamed you aboard to take care of ya.”
He furrowed a brow, not liking the commanding tone in not-Spock’s voice. The man seemed to be a bit harsher, more like his pure-blood counterparts versus the humans that their Spock seemed to be growing accustomed to. Their Spock was, by no means, warm. But this man was positively cold.
He stepped back, unconsciously, when Jim stepped in to begin questioning. Though he didn’t like the idea of jostling the patient on the bed (not Spock, he had to remember that the man wasn’t really Spock), Leonard knew that it wasn’t a case of Jim harassing Spock in jest. This was Captain Kirk ascertaining what the hell had happened to a valued member of his crew.
And McCoy knew better than to step in the middle of that.
Being threatened by Kirk was not a new experience although his words and the doctor’s combined were confusing. Spock glanced over his shoulder, turning his head as far as he could. Medbay did not look right. There were no emblems of the Empire on the doors, and no one was screaming in agony. It made no sense.
“Explain,” he said, not bother to soften the demand issued by that one word. He tried to shift on the bed, attempting to move his arms and legs to change his position, but he could not. Being face down was a disturbingly helpless position to find himself in.
“There was an explosion. The device I was studying.” Spock stopped struggling and let out a controlled breath. “I do not know what happened after that. I am assuming that my equipment was also damaged in the blast? There would have been data on the device and the tachyon field surrounding it. I did nothing to your first officer.”
reposting with jimmer-jammer-kirk's permission, because people need more mirrorverse art in their lives. please check out her blog, her art is amazing and her ask box is open for commissions~! <3
[behaves in a very un-vulcan manner.]
Continued from HERE
His own reality, so that meant this lookalike could as well be a version of himself, most likely from another reality. Spock’s hazy mind raced, more questions popping up. How did this happen? Where was he? Where was the rest of the crew? Also captured? Individually questioned by their counterparts the way he was? Everything seemed possible all of the sudden, however illogical.
Spock detested to be handled, lifted and placed to sit like a doll without will. His gaze was on the other, unfaltering. If this other Vulcan was planning to have him talk, then why was he gagged to start with? This was illogical. And what was there to tell about the Captain and the Enterprise..? It then dawned upon him the entire ship might have been hijacked. If he could, he would ask him a few questions in return.
Spock could see the resentment hidden in the dark depths of his other self’s eyes. Apparently they had the same triggers, which was of course logical, but it was also an advantage. He knew what buttons to push, and it would make it much easier to get this one to cooperate with him.
“My mind to your mind,” he said, words that were usually kept to himself as Vulcan telepathy was kept a secret by all of his people. He wasn’t as practiced as the man he was attempting to meld with. This Spock’s mental barriers were stronger than he was prepared for. He’d hoped that them being the same person would make it easier, but it did not. “You will let me touch your mind, Spock, or I will see to it that your captain dies in front of you.”
McCoy was keenly aware of the reactions of the two men when they beamed down. He’d file away any weaknesses to be used later, should either Spock or Kirk turn on him.
It could happen. He’d seen stronger men turn against allies for the basest of reasons.
The air was thick, the ground loamy. McCoy hated it immediately. It reminded him of Georgia, in a way, and he found himself loathing it. But he knew there would be poisonous plants and aggressive animals that could be possibly caught and brought in to be studied for their purpose as weapons. He’d come prepared, with both agonizer and portable methods of storage. He also had his lab ready to accept anything he beamed back to the ship. They knew better than to defy him. McCoy had spaced one of his minions for a simple mistake. No one tried his patience after that.
He listened with half an ear to Spock’s musings. A new civilization to conquer was always promising. He would torture those they brought in for information, maintaining his position with the Empire. Though McCoy didn’t particularly care for the torture, he thought it too barbaric, he knew it was expected. Kirk expected it of him.
"I’m gonna need to head deeper into the forest to find better samples. Not much of use here, not this close to the compound." He wouldn’t go off on his own, or do anything that would incur the wrath of either of his coworkers. So he waited, to let them lead the way. It was better to make the endeavor a group effort. He couldn’t fight off the locals on his own, anyway.
The natives were bigger but they wouldn’t be that much of a concern. If the only weapons they had were primitive, they’d be easy to take down with a few phaser shots and if he had to, he’d have the Enterprise send a few torpedoes down to the surface to shut them up. Whoever they had fought before must not have been very strong if they left instead of taking over. Now that they were here, they’d make sure the natives knew that they were part of the Empire, whether they wanted to or not.
"We’ll get there Bones don’t worry. You’ll get all the samples and subjects you want but I need to see what’s in the base first. We need to see what was left behind, it might be something useful." He grinned at the doctor. "There might even be some equipment you can use in there. The avatar program they had going sounded interesting. You might be interested in that too Spock." He could use them to send down teams to take over planets and not worry about losing men and having to get new crew. That would be beneficial.
"Spock, check the computers and databases, Bones check the equipment. I’m going to find the commander’s office and see if they left anything behind. Then we’re going to find the natives and show them that they’re now subjects of the Empire and what resources they have that we can take. We’re definitely taking a few natives back with us, alive or dead. Maybe both."
Spock left the other two on the pretense of carrying out Kirk’s orders, but that wasn’t the only reason he slipped away. The planet was reaching out to him. He could feel a presence—a life force—that was brushing against his consciousness. It was as if the entire planet was self-aware. It was fascinating, and he did not dare say a thing around McCoy or Kirk. Vulcan telepathy was one secret that he would never give up not even to the two men he actually trusted.
“I hear you,” he said under his breath as he ran his fingers along a tree root that had worked its way up through the floor of what had been a computer center of some sort. Spock shrouded his own mind and memories, keeping the presence from discovering why they were there. It wouldn’t do for whatever it was to find out the Empire wanted to exploit their world as well. The touch of the alien mind was not intrusive nor threatening, and when Spock shut the final door to his mind, it seemed to understand. “Fascinating.”
“Captain,” he used his communicator to relay his findings. “I have found a starchart that should be sufficient for Mr. Chekov to locate the invaders home world. Most of the data is corrupted on the storage devices they left behind, but my computer team should be able to find something useful if I have your permission to beam my findings to the ship.”