He was largely unaware of the affect the planet and its denizens had on Spock. Had he known, it would have proven very useful for his studies. Still, there were so many viable options for study around them. Young, old, middle-aged.. his mouth was practically watering at the thought that once they took over the planet, he’d have his pick of subjects. The Empire would flourish on what they could glean from the planet and its resources. He knew that the sheer amount of unobtanium beneath the Tree the Na’vi lived in would be enough to further the Empire’s power in ways they could only dream.
And that wasn’t even mentioning the bioluminescent power that could be harnessed. Though they’d turned to cleaner methods of power on Earth, having that sort of power capability would put the rest of the known universe at their knees.
He had his agonizer out, though he was aware of Spock’s words. The arrows looked wickedly sharp and deadly. And there was no doubt in McCoy’s mind that the Na’vi knew how to wield them. Though he might have been the ship’s doctor and CMO, McCoy was no slouch. He was ready to move, already in a defensive crouch, should one of the Na’vi attack.
He had his doubts the booths on the Enterprise would be big enough to house the larger frame of the Na’vi, though he’d be hard-pressed to give up the idea. ”Just came here to talk nice with your leader. Don’t wanna go causin’ any trouble.” He’d kill as many as he could, if he had to. But he wasn’t about to start anything. Not unless given the go-ahead by Kirk.
"I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Spock, but I don’t think we’re going to have to worry too much about that." He eyed each of the fighters, trying to decide who would die first. The enemy thought they knew what they were up against but they had no real idea. There was a sound behind him and he spared a glance back but both Spock and Bones seemed to be fine. He gave them each a look before turning back to the natives in front of him. The sooner he took care of this, the better.
"I’ve come to talk to your leader, there are terms we need to discuss." Once he had the leader alone, he’d make sure they understood just where the N’avi stood. They were now part of the Empire, whether they wanted to be or not, and there were details to enforce. His eyes flicked around the group surrounding them. "We do not wish to fight unless we need to." That was a slight lie but he’d rather have the natives to use as workers than kill them all. Other than the samples that Bones would need.
"Now, lead the way to someplace a little more private and we’ll talk. My men will make sure that we’re not disturbed." He tilted his head, staring at the leader.
The N’avi wasn’t sure how to react to him, glaring at him. ”What if we don’t want to talk to you? We want to be left alone and we’re not going to let you do any damage to the planet. Why don’t you just turn around and head back the way you came.” The threat was evident in his voice. Jim just smirked.
They did not believe Kirk. Spock could feel their emotions though the telepathic bond they shared with their world. The sentient lifeform on the planet would not submit, and the only choice they would have would be to destroy them. But in the end it was the most efficient and logical thing for them to do.
He followed after the Captain. He could feel the anxiety of the Na’vi rising, and he was grateful for what training Sarek had given him in Vulcan mental disciplines. It allowed him to feel the planet and its people, and it was an advantage—not that he could tell either the captain or the doctor about it.
Jim frowned as he listened to this other Spock, the expression only deepening as he was shown the readouts on the computer. How was he supposed to survive in this world? He may be strong in his own universe, but he was far too soft for this one. There was no way he could give the order to decimate an entire civilization. not even if it was the last chance in the universe to get the dilithium.
"How can destroying them be the only option? In my universe, we have a fair trade with planets rich in dilitium, we’ve never had to resort to this just to get the crystals. I can’t give that order, Spock. It’s not right."
“It is standard procedure for those who oppose the Empire,” Spock couldn’t keep the disdain from his voice. He had respected his captain, occasionally he’d liked him, but this weakling was not his captain. Whether he wished for command or not, he was now in it. This Kirk wasn’t capable of doing what was required, and Spock was not about to let him drag him into the abyss with him.
“If you are unable to do it, I will. You are not the captain of this ship; therefore I will not be violating the oath I made to your counterpart to serve him.” His oath meant everything to Spock. As a Vulcan he did not give it lightly, but unless there was some way to bring his Kirk back, he had no choice but to let this one die. “But your failure will reflect poorly on my reputation, and that I cannot allow.”
Inspiration: Muse “Space Dementia”
Leonard had been afraid when Spock woke up and forced the mind meld on him, that it would mean not making it back to the transporter room in time. He hadn’t been sure what the Vulcans reaction would be, but in the end it had been to help him. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when that gift horse was a half Vulcan who could overpower him more then easily, McCoy ended up finding himself standing on the teleportation pad with the other members of the landing party just in the knick of time.
A small smile made its way to his lips as the familiar tug of the machine hit him, because it meant he was going home, back to a ship where assassination and torture weren’t the norms. Hell, he would never admit it aloud, but he missed his own Hobgoblin a helluva lot, even if this version of Spock was perhaps closer to the original than any of the other crew.
But as he stood on the pad, the transporter finished doing its job, dread filled him. The black uniforms, the cruel eyes, the harsh words and anger. The others, he knew, had changed back to their cruel counterparts, because Jim was a damn good actor when he needed to be, but not that convincing. Then Spock was stepping forward, and Bones tried to calculate what his chances were that he had passed out on the trip home and this was just a cruel halucination. He didn’t like the odds.
"What the hell happened?" He questioned, involuntarily taking a step back, as if by doing so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that there was really no going back home. At least before he had still had his friends beside him, had Kirk and Scotty and Uhura, but now, now he was truly and utterly alone in this backasswards dimension. What was he going to do?
Spock had no idea what happened, what had prevented McCoy’s transition along with the rest of the crew. Their Mr. Scott had gone over the transporter with the metaphorical fine-tooth comb, and when Spock had looked at the evidence of their plan of escape, he also saw nothing wrong with the device.
“I do not know,” he said succinctly. “But we do not have much time. The Captain will summon me to his ready room or his quarters soon. He will need to interrogate me to find out what I might know about the situation. I would prefer to pretend I know nothing, but his whore knows otherwise. She knows I am aware of the transference, but she might not know that I mindmelded with you.” He gripped McCoy’s wrist once more, knowing that his strong fingers would leave bruises in their wake. “No one on this ship knows that I can do that. Vulcans in this reality hide that we are telepaths. As you might imagine, it would have dire consequences for my people.”
He lessened his hold on McCoy and glanced toward the door when the staff that had conspicuously been absent from their stations came in. He would have barked out an order, something threatening when Kyle sat at his post, but he was not Kirk—he had no need to show dominance in such a way. “Walk with me, Doctor.”
In The Sorrows of Empire, Marlena marries Spock after he takes control of the Enterprise following the events in “Mirror, Mirror”, and is his chief ally during his eventual rise to power as Emperor of the Terran Empire. She is killed along with Spock by forces of the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in 2295.
//That book sucked. It was so, so bad. I tried to like it, and I just could not wrap my brain around Spock/Marlena’s instant love. Of course it doesn’t help that in my hobgoblinreflected headcanon, he kills her to keep her mouth shut, which is the logical thing to do.
They had escaped. When Spock forced a mind meld on the human doctor, he learned the truth about their origins, it explained everything. Seeing their reality through McCoy’s eyes made him want more. He needed to understand why their reality was so different from his own. It wasn’t that he wished to change his; he simply was possessed by his Vulcan curiosity an insatiable need to study the logic that was the foundation of all creation.
When the transporter’s shimmer stopped, his Captain glared at him before stepping from the pad. His lips were drawn into a straight line as he demanded a report on what had happened to them before stomping out of the room followed by Scott and Uhura. McCoy did not move as quickly. His changeable eyes met Spock’s, and Spock’s eyebrows rose in surprise that he could not hide.
Where Kirk’s eyes had been kind, determined, and filled with misguided hope before the transporter brought his Captain back with eyes filled with a barely contained anger that was always beneath the surface. Uhura’s and Scott’s changed as well as their minds were reunited with their proper bodies across the dimensions. But not MccCoy. His were filled with shock and horror.
“You are still here?” Spock questioned as he stepped forward. “Fascinating.”
It annoys me to the point of becoming absolutely livid when people take my muse’s hostility toward theirs as a reflection of my hostility toward them as a person. And then, of course, I’M the bad guy.
“I am not familiar with that device, but I assume by its name what its function would be. It is not necessary, Doctor. My scars are the story of my life.” Those on his skin, and those on his Vulcan soul. His memories would be added to those of his ancestors, whose lives were so very different from the lives of his people under the Empire. He glanced down, heavy lids shadowing his dark eyes, as he thought of how far he had gone since joining Starfleet, and how much he wished to go home.
“While I appreciate your concern,” he said truthfully as was expected. “It will not be necessary. The sooner I discover how to return your Spock to you.” That was said with his eyes meeting McCoy’s. Spock did his best to keep his mask in place, which felt stranger than he expected when he was with the counterpart of his most trusted partner. He never feared his Leonard hurting him, and he knew that he should be safe with this one. “Your Spock will not be safe in my reality if that is where he is. They will not be as kind to him as you are to me.”
Spock curled his fingers around McCoy’s wrist, seeking some comfort in the familiar yet alien touch. He did not attempt to touch the Doctor’s bared skin although it was tempting to touch his mind. It was obvious that both he and Kirk cared about their Spock. He did not need the reminder that he was alone. “I will do what I can for you and the Captain.”
McCoy tensed at the words. Spock wasn’t safe. ”What will they do to him?” He paused, not moving when not-Spock grasped his wrist. Or rather, he grasped the cloth that covered his wrist. Clearly, wherever this Spock was from, it was the same with the touch telepathy. His gaze dropped and he watched for a moment, before he nodded.
This man wasn’t the enemy, that he could see. And he wanted to trust the face that was so familiar and so different. This wasn’t his Spock. But this man had endured enough. ”Let me show you to your room, alright? If you won’t let me treat the scars,” which he understood, though he didn’t necessarily agree. ”At least let me make sure you’re comfortable. Can get the chef to make up some plomeek soup for ya, if you’re hungry?”
Amazingly, it wasn’t hard to fall into the role of caregiver, even with this stranger. He looked after both Jim and Spock whenever the two pushed themselves too far. It didn’t happen often, but they were (mostly) human and sometimes things happened.
"We’ll get you back to your ship, Spock." It was a promise he had no idea how to keep, but he made it all the same. It was the least he could do.
The blast radius was twice what they’d expected when the science team beamed down to the planet. They unlike the original landing party were dressed in environmental suits to protect themselves from the radiation the device had released. Lt. Carol Marcus led the team as they scoured the radius of destruction. Boulders were shattered by heat. Sand melted to glass. Of the device itself, there was nothing left.
“Lt. Marcus!” one of the team shouted. She trudged across the circle of death to find out what the shouting had been for.
“Oh dear,” she said, swallowing hard. “I’ll beam up and tell Captain Kirk. Take care of him, please.”
“I’m sorry, Jim,” she said as she showed him the recordings of the remains of Commander Spock. “He was torn in half by the blast. If he’d been just a bit faster, he’d still be alive.”