Chapter Text
To whom it may concern,
This letter serves as notification that I, S’chn T’gai Spock, hereby resign my current position as first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise. The required documents will be filed shortly. All inquiries may be directed through this communication channel.
I wish to formally thank both Starfleet and the crew of the Enterprise for both an enlightening and edifying experience, as is customary in a resignation letter.
S’chn T’Gai Spock
It had felt like a kick in the nuts.
He’d read it and then read it again and then, just to be sure, he read it again. The words had felt cold and empty as they hit his eyes and wormed their way into his head.
He wasn’t coming back.
It wasn’t unexpected though, was it? After Yorktown, Spock had been clearly upset over the death of the ambassador, or as clearly as Spock could be with his emotions. After the destruction of Vulcan, it had seemed he’d been seconds from resigning but something, something , had kept him on the Enterprise. Jim could still remember how relieved he’d been when Spock had sent him his reinstatement request after all was said and done. The promise he had heard whispered in his mind by the ambassador, of friendship and loyalty and affection, was still there. They still had a chance.
And now it was all slipping through his fingers.
He couldn’t tether Spock to him and it wasn’t for lack of trying; no amount of late night chess or paperwork pow wows had been enough to stop Spock from leaving him for New Vulcan. This was a duty, maybe even a destiny for all he knew. And who was he to stop him? He’d be an asshole if he kept Spock from doing what he and everyone else knew was important. This was a matter of keeping an entire species alive.
Jim had just hoped that they wouldn’t need Spock’s help. Maybe, he had hoped, Spock would see that he needed him more than New Vulcan needed him. He’d quickly quashed that thought as quickly -and often- as it came up; it was too embarrassing.
He’d given Spock his space after he learned about the ambassador. He knew Spock wouldn’t take kindly to the signature Kirk style of grieving- which consisted of drinking until you couldn’t think anymore. Uhura had tried the soft words and physical comfort approach and he’d pushed her away so fast it had made Jim’s head spin. One morning they were dating and by lunch he was hearing the gossip about their break up. So Jim did what he knew Spock wanted, what he thought he needed; he gave him leave while the Enterprise was being rebuilt, let him go to the only place he thought he could find some idea of peace. If you love something and all that.
He had foolishly assumed Spock would come back afterward.
But that was seven months ago. The Enterprise was nearly ready for her christening and it never even crossed Jim’s mind that Spock wouldn’t be there for it. He’d been so tempted to message him about the refitting details, what improvements were being made, all the things Scotty had been beaming about. He wanted to tell Spock about all the fun things he was doing on Earth, maybe sneak in a hint or two about how he wished he was there. He’d almost asked him to come back for Bones’ birthday just so he could stop that niggling lonely feeling in the back of his head every time he went to a party and there was that empty spot next to him where Spock was supposed to stand, supposed to be the wallflower that Jim relied on to keep things interesting, supposed to talk to him in hushed murmurs about how illogical it was to celebrate the anniversary of a birth that the person in question had no influence in.
But he hadn’t. He kept everything to himself because Spock was going through something personal and he didn’t want to distract him. But it still stung that Spock never made any of his own attempts to reach out to him, as much of a double standard as that was. And now he was finding out about his resignation through Starfleet regulation email. Not even a call.
Jim knew he wouldn’t be able to reply to the resignation without it coming off as overly emotional or rampant with curse words, neither of which Spock would appreciate. And that would only make things worse; he didn’t want to solidify Spock’s reasons to leave, whatever they were -though Jim could guess-. But he still needed answers.
No, his response would need to be made in person.
And that’s exactly how Jim found himself on the next space flight to New Vulcan. It was only when he was halfway there that it really sunk in what an absolutely terrible idea it was.
What was he planning on doing once he got there? Where would he go? He hadn’t even practiced what he was going to say when -no, if- he found Spock. He’d thought he could just wing it like he always does and it’d work out eventually. He may have been classified as a genius, but in that moment, strapped in and hurtling through space, he felt immensely stupid and under prepared.
Jim ran a comforting hand over his face, settling over his lips. Alright, it wouldn’t be that bad. He could find Spock easily enough. He certainly had his own degree of fame and recognition, especially among Vulcans. Maybe he could just ask and someone would know. Maybe the Vulcans had gifted him a garish mansion that stood out like a sore thumb. And if all else failed, he could just go to the council and find Sarek. ‘Oh hello sir, I know the last time you saw me was five years ago when I was verbally assaulting your son about your dead wife, but I’ve changed, so we’re good now, right? Speaking of your son, is he around here?’
He let out a breath and a groan followed. He could do this; he needed to do this. He couldn’t just let Spock go, at least without some sort of closure. He’d put too much into making them the best team in Starfleet, too much into making Spock like him when he honestly shouldn’t have, all things considered. And maybe that’s why it was so easy for Spock to drop him like a rock. Maybe Jim was just imagining that they made a good pair and Spock was just enduring under obligation.
Nope, no. No. Jim sat there, chin in his palm, and stared at the stars whipping past in lines of white light. They were friends. He hadn’t even noticed how quickly they’d gone from tense and awkward to open and practically chummy when the actual five year mission started. Spock would tell Jim about Vulcan and Jim would tell Spock about Iowa. They’d spend nights in the observatory deck and watch the stars cruise by at warp speed and think whatever they went through today was nothing compared to what they’d gone through together. They trusted each other with anything, with everything, he’d thought.
And that’s exactly why this hurt so much.
He was acting like this was a break-up. It kind of was, in its own way. He’d been dumped by his righteously duty-bound first officer and now he’s running after him to beg him to leave his family and his tradition for him . It’s not inaccurate, and that brings up some weird feelings he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on them long enough to stick, as the shuttle was already landing and passengers were shuffling around to disembark. Jim threw his duffel over his shoulder and stepped toward the doors. As soon as they opened, he was hit in the face with a burst of intense light and a burning breeze.
God, it was hot.
The orange sands swallowed up the soles of his boots as he took his first step. It felt like the deserts on Earth, a strong heat like the inside of an antique conventional oven. If he recalled what Spock had mentioned about Vulcan, the air had been thin and the gravity intense, but he could breathe just fine and didn’t feel any heavier. It was just so damn hot. He was still in the shade of the shuttle doors and it already felt like his clothes had melted to his skin. He had to hold a hand up over his eyes and blink for a moment before he could even really see anything beyond the earthy colors swirling in his blurry eyes.
The first thing he noticed was that the buildings were tall and foreboding, jagged and intimidating, in every conceivable shade of brown. It was all incredibly Vulcan. They’d been quick in establishing their capital and he could even see the edges of the grand city still being constructed. It looked just like any metropolitan city on Earth, but with undoubtedly better planning and perfect zoning. Hovercars buzzed carefully through impeccably gridded streets and the sidewalks looked clean enough to eat off of, despite all the sand surrounding them. Craggy mountains loomed angrily to the south and if Jim were a little less human, he might have been able to look up at the two fiercely burning suns framing the orange-red sky. He’d take the travel brochure’s word for it.
After taking in the scenery, Jim looked out at the transport station and realized he was being watched intently by the locals. Too many dark, unreadable eyes stared at him unblinkingly as they moved around him, not stopping their business but definitely giving him more attention than he was used to. He was suddenly aware that he was the only non-Vulcan in a sea of black hair and pointed ears and he felt very alien. They peered at him with what he’d politely call curiosity, but was definitely closer to disdain. It looked better on Spock. Jim had once said so, telling him that excitement was a good color on him, to which he had been told that Vulcans do not feel excitement, only scientific curiosity. At least that had been Spock’s excuse any time Jim commented on the sparkle in his eyes whenever he worked with the previously unknown. “Fascinating” was rarely ever said without an inflection of awe. But no, these Vulcans, ones who were not his half-human first officer, were looking at him with a blank awareness, studying him for every tidbit of information he had. They were processing him.
Brushing off the discomfort of being thoroughly gawked at, Jim steeled himself and set about locating the directory. As soon as he stepped out of the shade of the shuttle, he felt like this might be what finally does him in. The direct sunlight was practically cooking him. Thankfully, it only took a few moments to find the large standing display and it had a large, merciful overhang. He breathed a sigh of relief as he met the shade again and started browsing through the information.
He knew it wouldn’t have private addresses listed, but it had a thorough map of the city. It was bigger than he thought it would be; he had underestimated Vulcan perseverance and efficiency. All major public buildings were methodically focused in the center and that was where he would find the council. Jim honestly hoped he wouldn’t have to seek out Sarek, but if Spock was as important to New Vulcan as he thought he was, he would find him there too.
The transport station was only a kilometer or so from the main district. Going out under the suns -two of them!- again wasn’t a great feeling, but since he was already so close, he assumed it wouldn’t be so bad. He was wrong, of course. By the third block, he felt like his skin was ready to start blistering and his boots might melt into the pavement. He must have looked like a greasy feverish maniac. And as he passed more and more perfectly immaculate Vulcans, going about their days without a single hair out of place, Jim had never been more jealous of their resilience.
“James Tiberius Kirk.”
There was a woman speaking to him. She was regal, with long dark hair piled up with pearls and pins and long ears heavy with jewels. She had the same emotionless disposition as all the other Vulcans, but Jim couldn’t help but stare at the utter roundness of her stomach. She looked like she was ready to pop.
“That’s me,” he said, pushing droopy sweat-matted hair up his forehead with one hand and offering the ta’al with the other; he felt like a peasant in the presence of royalty. She only nodded gently.
“You are here for Spock.”
It couldn’t possibly be that easy. Jim was planning on wandering around for hours on this search and rescue mission he’d made for himself and now he had all the answers right in front of him. He eyed her suspiciously.
“How did you know?”
“There is no other reason for you to be on New Vulcan.”
Maybe I’m on vacation, Jim wanted to tell her. He could get away with teasing Spock, but he doubted any other Vulcan would humor him as he does. So Jim gave her one of his award-winning smiles, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate that either. “You got me. You know where I can find him?”
“Follow me.”
She turned and walked with her head held high. Despite the severity of her stomach, there were no signs of discomfort or difficulty in her stride, not even a hint of a waddle. She was incredibly elegant; Jim walked ever so slightly behind her so she wouldn’t have to see his weak human body reacting to the heat currently liquefying him.
“How do you know who I am?”
“You are the Starfleet captain who attempted to save Vulcan. Everyone on this planet knows of you.”
‘Attempted’ still stung a little. He could have saved it if he’d been a little more careful, had a little more time, figured things out sooner. He’d gotten over the ‘what ifs’ years ago, even if it had taken a lot of time and more than a few drinking nights with Bones. But as they passed more Vulcans on the street and they examined him thoroughly, Jim felt that crushing guilt all over again. Seeing it all, the faces of an endangered species and the hard work they were doing to build an entire society from scratch, was much worse than just imagining it from behind a bottle of whiskey. He was some sort of war hero and he’d let them all down.
Jesus, that was depressing. His shirt was practically dripping and his pants were chafing against his wet thighs. He hoped they weren’t far. His head pulsed and his throat felt like he’d swallowed a handful of sand, but he spoke anyway.
“How do you know Spock?”
She didn’t answer right away and he knew it was a dumb question. If they all knew him, how could they not know Spock? Jim tried to rub the sweat out of his eyes but it just made them burn.
“He has been essential in our reproductive efforts.”
He nearly tripped over his own foot.
“Excuse me?”
She turned her head to the side as she continued forward, speaking slightly louder. “He has been essential in our reproductive efforts.”
He wasn’t sure how to take that. What does that even mean? His thoughts were going around in circles as he tried to process it. He couldn’t help but zone back down to the stomach bulging under her thin flowing dress.
Was it his? Was this woman his wife?
He was delirious; it must have been a mix of the overwhelming heat and that vague little bombshell this woman had dropped on him. His body was getting sluggish as his mind worked itself into knots trying to figure out what he’d just discovered, what he would even say to Spock once he saw him: ‘You don’t want to come back to the Enterprise because you’re too busy getting laid ?’
She said something to him, but it was as if he was underwater and everything was muffled. Oh, he was definitely feeling something coming on. Nausea, maybe. He’d stumbled again and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything as quickly as he should have. But they had made their way past the main district, deep into the residential areas where the smooth industrial streets faded back into sand and rock. The woman led him toward a big house nestled right into the high dunes, as if it had burst from the red soil and was cut to shape. As expected, they had certainly given Spock some fine real estate.
They reached a door, but at that point, Jim couldn’t see straight. His skin felt too hot and there was a deep thrumming headache that was becoming more apparent with each passing second. There was a calculated knock, a gentle creaking sound, and there was Spock with his perfect hair and perfect eyebrows. He looked surprised, barely even a twitch on his face, but it truly dawned on Jim how scandalously emotional Spock must seem compared to other Vulcans. His dark eyes were burning into Jim with something he couldn’t really figure out, even though he’d spent ages learning how to read him and find his tells. Maybe Spock was angry, which, to be fair, was totally justified. He’d showed up uninvited, uncomposed, which was probably a thousand times more rude to a Vulcan than a human. Spock opened his mouth and said something; his name was part of the jumble of sounds, he knew that much. Jim needed to say hello. He couldn’t just stand there and stare at Spock all day. He had to explain why he was here, had to ask why he left. He had to convince him to come home.
“Can I come in?” is what Jim meant to say because he assumed Spock had some sort of air conditioning system and maybe just a cup of water. It probably didn’t come out that way because they were both staring at him oddly and Spock had this look on his face that he’d missed so goddamn much. When did he start missing him so much? But then everything was turning around too fast and suddenly he was looking up at the orange-red sky with the two angry suns and he had to close his eyes or be blinded. There was a scalding hand touching his face, his neck, and it hurt, but he couldn’t find the energy to remove it.
Jim laid back and he was fine.