Chapter Text
Spock would never admit to dozing off while in command of the ship, but the monotony of Gamma shift and the phenomenal smoothness of Sulu's flying (assisted in no small part by the miraculously-still-functional inertial dampeners) made staying awake rather unenticing. In all fairness, having spent the past five consecutive shifts on duty, Spock was nearing two whole stardates without rest. Of course he hadn’t intended to be awake this long. It was the unexpectedly early arrival of the Mordan transport ship during the previous Gamma shift that occupied his usual time off duty. Having already exceeded his usual waking hours by supervising the cadet laboratory exams after Alpha and Beta shift on the bridge, Spock was the only Senior Officer awake at the time to receive the transport envoy. The subsequent stabilisation of the delicate cargo had occupied the rest of Gamma shift, leaving Spock time only to have a brief meal in the rec room before Alpha shift.
The delivery run, while certainly irregular for Starfleet’s flagship exploration vessel, was a welcome change of pace after a series of less than successful missions. A collection of critical samples were to be transported to Starbase 313 for testing, and being rather scientifically significant (and for publicity), Starfleet Command had selected the Enterprise to carry the cargo. This mission, however, would too join their series of misadventures, when several hours later they encountered an asteroid belt. Despite the valiant efforts of Helmsman Mitchell, the ship took several blows that, among other superficial damages, resulted in the misalignment of the sample containment units. Thus, rather than his usual Beta shift in command of the bridge, Spock and his science officers were tasked with the repair of several hundred finely-tuned sample containment units.
Upon returning to the bridge to report on the successful stabilisation of the cargo, Spock found Sulu in command of a bridge of cadet crew, with yet another crisis looming on the horizon.
“Science, report,” Sulu ordered, “How close is the storm?”
The cadet in blue looked frantically between the scope and the viewscreen, trying to identify anything to indicate the ship’s distance from the ion storm. Perhaps against his better judgement, which he would later accept to have been impaired by his lack of sleep, Spock stepped more fully onto the bridge.
“Lieutenant Sulu, I believe I may be of assistance,” said Spock flatly, walking across the bridge towards the science station.
The cadet ceded the station without hesitation, nodding gratefully at both Spock and Sulu as he moved to the back of the bridge. Spock quickly examined the sensor readings and shortly found the relevant data.
“The ion storm is two-hundred-thousand kilometers ahead,” he reported, “At present speed we will reach it in less than one minute.”
“Slow to impulse, yellow alert!” ordered Sulu.
The bridge dimmed slightly as the amber lights softly strobed along the ceiling and the crew moved to tactical alert stations. A first wave of tremors shook the ship as they entered the storm, followed immediately by a second wave of stronger undulations. The lights flickered and sparks flew from panels across the walls. The main viewscreen went dark.
“Helm, report!” yelled Sulu over the alarm.
“I’ve lost steering!”
“Navigation’s gone, too!”
The crew lurched as the storm tossed the ship, loose padds and tricorders skittering across the floor.
“Cadet, switch to manual controls!”
“I don’t know how, sir!”
Sulu rolled his eyes and stood to stumble down towards the helm as the ship continued to rock.
“Spock, take command!” Sulu ordered, “I’m taking the helm!”
Spock acknowledged the instruction and staggered over to the captain’s chair as Sulu planted himself in the helm seat and switched the ship to manual controls. Within seconds the shaking subsided.
“The steering controls are warped but I think I can compensate for it,” said Sulu, intently focused on the helm control panel and the now-visible front window.
At some point, Spock wasn’t quite sure when, it was all rather smooth sailing to him, they exited the other side of the storm. Sulu took the opportunity then to instruct the cadet helmsman on piloting a ship like the Enterprise with manual controls and how to react appropriately in similar crises. Despite his fatigue, Spock was certain he would receive a reasonably sternly-worded review of the new cadet practical integration program from Sulu within the week.
It was in this state of exhaustion that Spock found himself uncharacteristically jumping at the sudden contact of a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face Kirk, who moved his hand off of Spock’s shoulder to the back of the chair.
“Hey there,” said Kirk softly, “Mind if I have my chair?”
Spock stood suddenly and almost imperceptibly wavered in place. Kirk caught hold of Spock’s arm and held him for a moment.
“Are you alright, Spock?” he asked quietly.
“I am…” Spock paused; even ‘adequate’ was insufficient to describe his present condition, “Weary.”
“Alright,” Kirk sighed. He let go of Spock’s arm and took his seat, gesturing towards Yeoman Rand.
“Yeoman, please ensure Mr. Spock makes it to his quarters.”
Rand acknowledged and led Spock towards the turbolift. Once inside, he allowed himself a moment to close his eyes.
Spock did not recall much of his journey from the bridge to his quarters, only that, much to his dismay, it was not Jim who had accompanied him. The fluorescent light from the hall disappeared as the doors closed behind him, leaving only the soft glow from his holographic candles. He would later be glad he had the presence of mind to remove his boots and outer tunic, for it was only logical, and upon lying down on his bed, Spock no longer resisted the pull of sleep.