DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2022 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.

Unity Divided

by Djinn

We wake. We are hungry and look around for food. There are trays set by the door that lead into the room. We do not know what the food is, nor do we care. We eat because to die from starvation is illogical. We eat because we are fucking hungry. We eat because we do not know if we will get another chance.

We pass the water bottle around. There is only one, but it is large and full, and the water is refreshing. We enjoy water, we wish it were something else, and we do not like our water this cold.

We look at ourselves. Three units. Dressed in different colors but the clothing is alike enough that it seems we are a set. We are red and much of our life has been red splattered so it is fitting. We are blue because for some science is represented by that color. We are white for purity, but not because we are pure, but because it was necessary for work we did.

What is our function now? That idea teases at us—should we know? We look up as one to the light in the middle of this room, to the rock walls, to the mattress in the corner. It is large enough to hold us all. We know this because we woke up, huddled together, one being with three forms.

"You are awake." The sound echoes so loudly around the room we cover our ears. "We trust you are unharmed."

"We are," we say as one. We would know if part of us was injured.

"We do not have much time. Your people are coming."

We do not understand. We are one and there are no more than us.

"What is your name?"

We have no name. We look one unit to another and our mouths form letters but no sound emerges.

"Which of you is Spock?"

We feel a resonance, that name had meaning. But we do not raise our hands.

"La'an? Christine?"

Again we feel the pang of something old and remembered dimly. Our hands stay in our laps.

"What is your designation?" The voice is louder, the blue-dressed unit cringes in pain, and we all feel the echo of that unit's distress.

In the distance, we hear what sounds like explosions.

"Your assistance in this was most appreciated. That is irony you will appreciate once you are yourselves again since we more or less kidnapped you. Sorry about that and there won't be any lasting damage. And you're helping progress science—two of you will care about that. The other one will no doubt kick our ass if you knew what we looked like and could track us down."

We do not understand. We can sense the voice is amused but we do not understand why.

The sound fades, the room grows dark, the light on the ceiling slowly turning to black. And then lightning fills the room and we scream as it touches us.

We scream until everything goes black.

##

Spock woke in sickbay. He tried to sit up but heard the captain say, "Nope, nope, nope" as M'Benga dosed him with a hypospray and then studied his readings on the bed.

"Where are they?" Spock said, this time not trying to get up.

"If you mean La'an and Christine, they're over there." Pike pointed to biobeds behind Spock and frowned. "How much do you remember?"

"I remember being on the planet with them. Then we were struck by an energy weapon. After that all is..." He cannot remember anything concrete, but a memory he cannot seem to grab hold of mentally teases him. "It was almost like a meld."

"We think it might have been quite a bit like one," M'Benga said gently. "But one designed to assimilate the three of you into one being—persona-wise."

"Yes." He can feel it now, the sense of unity. "A collective of the three of us." He looked down to make sure his uniform was on.

Pike patted him on the shoulder gently. "You were all found fully clothed. I don't think anything uhhh intimate happened." He frowned slightly. "Other than, you know, becoming one person. That kind of defines intimate." He pulled a chair over and sat. "How are you feeling?"

"They are human. You should ask them."

"They're in a coma, Spock."

"I asked you how they were. Why did you not say they were in a coma when I asked?" He felt anger flood him and tried to get up again but realized whatever M'Benga had dosed him with was making him very sleepy. "You drugged me?"

"Technically, the Doc did. Your neurotransmitters and hormones are all out of whack, Spock. I, for one, do not want to explain to T'Pring that I broke her fiancé. So just let the Doc put you in a nice healing coma until things go back to normal."

"I could have meditated..." The words barely came out a whisper.

"Couldn't take that chance, buddy." Pike patted him again. "Just rest, okay?"

##

She is back on the Gorn planet. She is running and she can hear the thing behind her, the click. Can feel her heart beating near out of her chest. She screams and screams and then she is being held, a thin body, soft blonde hair covering her eyes. "I've got you," Christine says. "I've got you."

She turns into her and holds on tightly.

Then she hears the scream of the Gorn—but it's the scream of a dying Gorn. She eases away from Christine long enough to see Spock slicing down with a weapon she's never seen before.

She assesses the weapon. It makes no sense to her. A curved blade on one end that looks like the fancy mincers her mother used, a...rounded conical shape on the other. It looks hard to cut with and out of balance and likely to cut the user if their hand slides down after hitting with the cone end. But Spock seems to know how to use it so she lets how lame a weapon it is go. He turns to her and his eyes are angry. "This Gorn will not hurt you."

She likes that idea, likes it so much, and tries to melt into Christine, feels Spock come up to them and wrap them both in his arms. So tightly. It should hurt but it feels right: it makes her feel whole.

Blackness claims her but she can still feel the other two near her.

##

Pike wanted to hide behind M'Benga as T'Pring studied Spock. "So, yeah, he's sleeping."

"He was subjected to some kind of meld with two other people, and you did not think that calling for me would be prudent?"

She wasn't even supposed to be here. She'd popped in to surprise Spock. Yeah, surprise! Fuck. He hated when she stared at him in the way she was doing. It was worse than Una's glares.

"We have it under control. T'Pring."

"He is in a coma. One he did not initiate, if I understand what you have told me?"

"His physiological condition is beginning to return to baseline. We do have this under control." Joseph sounded very put out with her, way braver than Pike knew he was being.

"Do you even know how to wake a Vulcan in a healing coma? If that is indeed what he is in. Which I find dubious."

Pike was sick of her tone. "If you can fix him, be my guest." He tried to sound commanding but mainly he was just worried about the three of them—and how Una was going to kill him if La'an was hurt.

Joseph put his hand out. "Actually, I do not suggest that. Because we don't know what a meld might do."

"You mean you do not know. I am a professional." She sat in the chair next to Spock, put her hands on his face, and began muttering about her mind to his. It was all very Vulcan.

Then she abruptly pulled away. "He is not in a healing coma."

"But he is healing," Joseph said without even looking up from his scanner, finally sounding sick of her tone.

"He is also not alone." She got up and walked around to where Christine and La'an were lying. "These two are with him." Without asking, she reached for Christine and melded before Pike could stop her. "He is not here. And yet he is." She pulled away and then went to La'an and did her too. "He has melded with her before. For a mission."

News to Pike. But things often were. The downside of not being a micromanager.

T'Pring pulled away slowly. "This one has significant emotional trauma."

"And she will challenge you to a duel if you ever mention it."

"So I gathered." She actually frowned. "Someone was experimenting on them."

"Yes. They abandoned them as soon as our shuttle got within range of where they were on the planet and bombed open the entrance to their warehouse. Their method of travel was...novel."

She walked to Spock and studied him. "There is a resonance between them now."

"A bond?" Didn't she have the bond with Spock? Was it broken now? Or a four-way thing? Christ, he was going to have so many pissed-off people when everyone woke up.

"Not as such. I feel that he and I are still...bonded. But, also..."

"Oh, no, you're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?"

"Fortunately, they are both quite attractive. I feel...protective over them."

Damn it all to hell. This was going to require way more reports than he wanted to write. "T'Pring, do you want to go into a healing coma? Maybe you can talk to them? Help them break the connection?"

"That is a ridiculous idea. But appealing." She was already lying down on the biobed next to Spock. "Doctor, if you please?"

"This isn't a good idea," Joseph said, but he filled the hypospray.

"I do not relish being bound to three people, two of whom are humans. If I can break this, I will."

"Just don't break Christine and La'an in the process." Pike nodded for Joseph to put her out. She was asleep moments after the hypo touched her arm.

Then they settled in to wait.

##

T'Pring is in blackness and only finds her way to the three by the strength of her bond with Spock. She sits and meditates, bringing herself into the most peaceful state she can muster, and as she does, light begins to glow, and she sees the three of them, bundled together like a litter of le'matya cubs.

To her relief, she sees this is not sexual. This is more elemental. Whoever did this to them was trying to create some kind of hive-mind. And then abandoned them in this state.

Irresponsible in the extreme.

She can sense that the dark-haired human was the catalyst for this group embrace. A dream of her trauma. Trauma many—including many Vulcans—would not have survived. Or if they had, would not have remained sane after. T'Pring touches Spock and Chapel, and moves them gently away to tip the other woman's—La'an is the name she gets from them—face up to look at her. It is not a meld in the traditional sense but it will have to do.

"You are safe. You do not need them."

"They are me, and we are all."

"You do not need th—"

La'an takes Spock and Chapel by the hand and kicks T'Pring so hard in the stomach that she flies away, into the blackness.

Clearly, that was not a winning approach.

She tries to swim to consciousness to confer with M'Benga and Chris, but the drugs are keeping her under.

Very well, she will try again. A new approach. Neither man were of any use anyway.

##

"So, Doc, now we got four unconscious people."

"Yes."

"And is anything happening?"

"Their levels are stabilizing. Except T'Pring's. Cortisol and adrenaline are rising."

"Anger? Fear?"

"More like the frustration of not being able to solve a challenging puzzle. Her dopamine is also quite high so not all bad—maybe she likes puzzles." He sits back. "What I don't understand is what is the use of this? Stealing people, making them united—for what? Unnecessary stress on the people. This would never happen if we were back in civilized space."

"Are you changing your mind about our mission, Joseph?" Pike studied him. "Or just worried what Rukiya might be facing out here?"

Joseph shrugged. "She is non corporeal. These people pose no threat to her." He smiled and shook his head. "But yes, this kind of thing still makes me worried about her." He pointed at T'Pring. "She would no doubt have a field day with how illogical it is."

"She just went into a mental menage a trois after saying it was not a good idea. I don't think she has any room to judge a caring father." He smiled as gently as he could.

"You're right. But still she probably would if I told her. So I won't."

##

T'Pring meditates until the light comes back, illuminating the group. Chapel sits in front, staring at her, but not appearing to see her. Or is she seeing something other than her?

She must proceed with caution. This woman and she share regard for the same man. And now she is linked to him as well—even if T'Pring has the greater bond and prior claim.

"May I sit?"

Chapel nods. And so do the other two. Most unsettling.

"I wish to understand."

"We understand." Chapel's voice sounds the same as it ever does. No enhanced vocals from the other two.

"Are you Christine Chapel?"

"She is us."

"Who else is you?"

"We are legion."

She lets her eyebrow rise. "You appear to be just three."

"Three. Legion. Pick one." This sounds so much like the real Chapel that T'Pring feels some measure of progress.

"Let us settle on three. Unless you wish to identify by name any other members of your collective than you, the one called La'an, and the one called Spock."

"Those are sufficient designations. They are we."

"What is the purpose of your collective."

"To more efficiently study the universe, coalescing experience and skillsets into one being." Chapel looks surprised at her answer.

"Did you know that before I asked."

"No," they all answer.

"I see." She waits to see if Chapel will also attempt violence against her but she just sits thoughtfully, head cocked, as if assessing her—their—purpose.

Progress.

##

"You mean to tell me two of my proteges were linked to Chapel and now you let T'Pring go in too?" Una sounded beyond pissed and Pike again wished he was anywhere but sickbay.

"Didn't you have the conn?"

"I gave it to Erica when you didn't come back." She walked over to La'an and touched her forehead gently, then glanced at Christine. "They both look so peaceful."

"So do T'Pring and Spock," Pike offered, trying to not piss her off even more.

"They're fucking Vulcan. They always do." Since she got sprung from Starfleet jail, she was not trying to temper her emotions the way she used to. Decades of acting like she had no feelings coming out all at once. It was super fun.

Well, in bed it was. Any other time, not so much. "Hon', please go back to the bridge. T'Pring has this under control."

She glanced at the comatose woman. "Sure she does."

Joseph got up and began to scan each of the patients. "Their physiological state continues to improve. I do not know if that is just how this wears off or if T'Pring is making headway." He put a hand out before Una could say something sarcastic. "I know you prefer a fast solution, but I am not sure there is one. So long as they continue to progress, I'm content to leave them as they are. We have been on one hard mission after another—they can use the rest, especially when my scanner says it is more refreshing than any supplement I could give them."

Una took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine." She poked a finger against Pike's sternum. "You comm me if they get worse." Then she leaned down and kissed him. "Jackass."

"Control freak."

She laughed and left.

At Joseph's look, he shrugged. "Calling each other stupid names is something we've always done. The kissing part is new."

"I'm glad. I mean about the kissing. You could both use some happiness."

##

He watches the other person, the one who has so many questions about who they are. She looks...familiar.

Deep down he feels something he identifies as desire.

And also guilt and fear.

"We are afraid of you. Why?" he asks.

She looks surprised. It is the first time she has shown emotion. "Afraid?" She glances at La'an. "Are you afraid."

"The units that make up us are afraid."

"But are you specifically?"

It takes La'an a long time to answer. "Not of you."

"Of the Gorn?"

For a moment, T'Pring thinks La'an is no longer linked, for her look changes to one of raw terror while the others' stay serene. "Forget the Gorn," she says softly, before La'an can use violence against her again. She knows why the woman reaches for it as a first solution and does not blame her but does not want to have to restart this session again.

La'an's face slowly returns to serenity. T'Pring turns to Chapel. "You are afraid of me?"

Chapel actually inches closer to Spock. T'Pring feels something clench inside her.

"Are you two in love and are you sorry?" She will never forget those words even if she has tried to convince herself that because Spock was not the one to speak them, they are meaningless.

"We love you." It is still Chapel speaking.

"How many of you love me?"

La'an moves closer to the other two. "One unit of our collective loves you." She sounds far more human, far less hive-minded.

"How many love La'an?"

"One unit does." It is Chapel speaking. La'an smiles.

"How many love Spock?"

"Are they counting you?" Spock lifts an eyebrow and it is him, the real him, talking to her finally.

"No."

"One," Chapel says, looking down.

Will she ask the last question? It is the one she most wants answered. And the answer she most fears. "How many love Chapel?"

"Two of the units," La'an says softly. Sparing her from having to hear it from the man she is bonded to?

T'Pring reaches over and tilts Spock's chin up, stops him from his study of his hands. "How many love Chapel?"

"Two. I am sorry." He reaches out and touches her face. There is no additional resonance from his touch. Not in this place of pseudo unity.

"Which of us do you love more?"

"How does one quantify love?" He frowns, and she does not berate him since he just asked how one does it, not how they all would. It is progress if not the way she would choose. "I do not have an answer."

"Which of us do you want to spend a future with?"

"You," Chapel says, and she sighs.

"That's not true. She doesn't know that. If she did, she would be with me." La'an sounds very put out.

T'Pring thinks she understands why these three were pulled into a collective. They clearly have issues that transcend the individual. Romantically, at any rate.

"Please don't ask him in front of me. Please don't make him choose." Chapel's voice is soft and alluring—how has T'Pring never noticed that. "I believe you are his first and best destiny."

T'Pring moves closer to her and see La'an tense. "I mean no harm," she says as she tilts Chapel's face up, staring into her eyes, trying to read from her what this woman really wants. "His relationship with you has enhanced his relationship with me."

"That is the definition of a friend."

"It is not." She glances at La'an. "Is it?"

La'an considers before she answers. "It could be. It does not have to be. Her friendship with Spock is a detriment to my relationship with her."

"Exactly." She eases away from Chapel. "Could you love me?"

"Hey, I had first dibs." La'an seems fully herself again.

"T'Pring, please let this lie." Spock also sounds himself. Afraid of what he might say or do around her.

"Could you love me?" she asks Chapel again.

"I don't know," Chapel murmurs, then closes her eyes and clenches her fists and says, "I want to wake up, I want to wake up, I want to wake up."

And then she is gone.

La'an follows her, seemingly without effort.

T'Pring studies Spock. "It is ironic two humans will wake before us."

"Indeed."

"Who do you love more?"

"I do not know."

"Do you wish to be free?"

"I do not know." He sounds helpless—and in that helplessness is honesty.

He does not know if he cares more for her or Chapel, but he does not necessarily want his freedom.

She can work with that. But before she fights her way to consciousness, she leans in and kisses him. "You do not love the one called La'an, but do you find her attractive?"

"T'Pring, what is the point of this?"

"Query: Is La'an attractive to you?"

"Response: Yes."

"You may wake up whenever you are ready. Our union stands until we decide what to do with it. Consider this, though, Spock. I can share. Can you?"

##

Pike was half dozing so he almost missed T'Pring sliding off the biobed and heading for Christine. Something in the way she was walking reminded him of a mountain lion. "Joseph!"

Christine was sitting up, so was La'an. T'Pring grabbed Christine by the throat, muttering, "I could so easily end this right now."

"Whoa, whoa, do you know how much paperwork I have to do if you kill a civilian on my ship?" Then he realized Christine had pulled a laser scalpel from the rolling tray and was holding it to T'Pring's throat. "Chapel, the same applies for visiting Vulcans. In fact, there may be more red tape."

They were totally ignoring him. As per usual.

Fortunately, La'an moved in and eased both of them away from each other's vulnerable bits. "No. Sit." She pointed to her biobed for T'Pring, who walked to it meekly and sat, and pushed Chapel back down on hers. "Stay."

Man, he wished he could command respect like that. Only maybe it was more fear. He didn't really want to engender that.

She turned to look at him. "Give us the room."

"Uhh, no."

She walked toward him, slapping Spock on the arm a few times and saying "Wake up, chicken shit, this is all your fault" until he finally opened his eyes. "Give. Us. The. Room. Sir."

"Well, okay if you're going to say it respectfully." He ran to Joseph's office and hit the privacy button. "Can we listen in from here?"

"Do you really want to? I have no idea what's going on with any of them. And now that they are awake and"—he reached over to his terminal and checked the last biobed readings—"appear to be in perfect physiological health, my work is done. Coffee?"

"Decaf." He took a deep breath. Well, at least they were okay and themselves again. Whatever the hell was going on in the other room.

They settled in to wait some more.

##

Chapel held the laser scalpel in one hand, rubbed her neck with the other, and glared at T'Pring. "Bitch."

"Tsssssst," La'an said, pointing one finger at her. What the hell did that sound mean? But she shut up.

"Spock, pull up a chair." La'an was already pulling one around to sit on one side of Chapel and T'Pring.

Spock took his time but finally pulled another one across from her, making them look like they were ready to play bridge.

"Intriguing that you are so clearly taking the lead. I see command in your future." T'Pring was watching La'an with a look that Chapel realized made her jealous.

La'an smiled back at her with a look that made her even more so.

"Hey. Hey, I thought you liked me."

"We all like everyone, or sort of. That's the problem." La'an sat back. "I have the least to lose or win here, so you guys might as well get started hashing out your issues."

"Spock has feelings for her." T'Pring gestured to Chapel in a throwaway manner.

"I didn't mean for that to happen."

"She did not. Nor did I." Spock sounded so whipped Chapel wanted to bop him. "But it is so." Wow, he was admitting it in front of T'Pring? Maybe she'd bop him later.

"I also have feelings for another." T'Pring said into the silence.

La'an started to laugh. "Wow, this as messy as those shows Erica makes me watch with her." She turned to T'Pring. "Who is she?"

"He."

"Stonn," Spock said, sounding like a sulky boy.

"Yes." She leaned back in her chair, seeming to let go of the elegant rigidity she always displayed. Her eyes met Chapel's. "He is highly intelligent. He is thoughtful. And he cares for me."

"Do you care for him though?" she asked.

"I do. Not enough to disassociate myself from Spock, however. Which may be how he feels about you."

Chapel turned to Spock. "Is it?" She hated how needy she sounded. She didn't want this, to be second-most-wanted again. She'd done that before.

He nodded slowly. "My union with T'Pring is both logical and brings emotional fulfillment."

"Fuck me." She looked down.

"The most logical thing would be for you to let your feelings for Spock be what they are and no more than that. To choose this woman"—T'Pring gestured to La'an with a very sensuous smile—"who cares for you and is attractive and brave and highly intelligent."

"You say the nicest things. And my God you're gorgeous."

"Thank you for noticing. Logic does not override the desire to be appreciated."

"Oh, I'd appreciate you."

Chapel whapped her on the arm.

"What? It's not like you're ever going to say yes to me. You're so hung up on dipshit, here."

T'Pring made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh.

Chapel folded her arms over her chest, feeling totally outnumbered. "You said you weren't ready."

"That's because it was obvious you liked him." La'an looked down. "Loved him, even."

Nobody said anything, they all looked at the floor until T'Pring said, "I was in Las Vegas."

"And the award for biggest non-sequitur ever goes to..." Chapel said in her snottiest tone.

"Hear me out. That city is known for its buffets. 'All you can eat' is how they are described." She cocked her head and studied each of them. "The first time, you take too much. You try things you might not otherwise. You discover which things truly nourish and which are only briefly desired. By the end of the stay, even the most gluttonous individuals were not taking all they could eat, only what truly felt right."

Chapel rolled her eyes.

Spock said, in a tone that totally was him trying not to piss off his girlfriend any further, "T'Pring, we are not a buffet."

"Why not? Would it not be entirely logical for any and all of us to try and see how nourishing or not the relationship was?" She glanced over at La'an. "I'd like to put you on my plate first."

"God damn it, T'Pring." Chapel fired up her laser scalpel, but Spock eased her hand down.

"No, what she says is logical—if unorthodox. There is a saying: 'Having is not so satisfying as wanting.' It is not logical, but it is often true." He turned to T'Pring. "You would include Stonn in this?"

"Yes."

"Any others."

"Did I not make clear my desire for this one?" She gestured to La'an with a way too affectionate look.

"So La'an and Stonn for you," Spock said softly.

"Hey, that rhymes." Chapel knew she was being the bitchy man out but didn't care. "You don't want to sleep with me, sweetheart? Find out what the fuss is?"

T'Pring looked her over slowly, then said, "I don't."

It stung. She couldn't lie.

"Christine's super hot," La'an said. "And super smart."

"Fine, I will have sex with her."

"Like hell you will," Chapel muttered.

"Christine." Spock sounded like he just wanted to get out of this room. "Please do not antagonize her."

"What about me?" She met his eyes and didn't look away, let him see how hurt she was at this whole stupid conversation. She'd never goddamned asked for any of this. "Fuck you and fuck this." She got up and walked into her office. If she could have slammed the door, she would have. Stupid fucking pneumatic doors.

##

Spock watched Christine go and wanted to follow her. He was half out of his seat when T'Pring said, "Really? Is she so important you must comfort her when we two remain?"

"Leave me out of this." La'an got up and left sickbay, this time not giving his fiancée any kind of seductive look.

Spock stared at T'Pring. "This was not fair to her."

"It was entirely fair. That is why it bothers you, Spock. You were forced to confront reality, not keep the two of us in our separate boxes where you could have us both. You cannot have us both, it appears. She has walked away from that concept. So choose. Her or me."

He stared at her helplessly. For so many years, she was his path.

But his path to what? Starfleet was also his path, and it was the one he dedicated himself to nearly one hundred percent of the time.

He'd apparently been thinking too long, because T'Pring said, "I am going to explore what Stonn has to offer. I will notify you if I wish to dissolve our union."

"No!" He sounded too human and knew he was flushing.

"So only you get to have multiple partners? How interesting. Your family is troubled, Spock. I have known this for some time but I've cared for you since I was a girl. I think, however, I do not wish to be associated with your family or you any longer." She lifted her fingers. "Spock. Parted from me and never parted."

"No." He did not want this.

Did he?

Her eyes were soft, were forgiving, but were resolute. "Spock. Parted from me and never parted." She glanced at Christine's door.

He looked at it too. Thought of the woman inside. Of how much he wanted to be in there with her.

Not out here, with the woman to whom he belonged.

He bowed to the inevitable. "Never and always touching and touched."

Her voice didn't shake in the least. "I sever what was."

He swallowed hard. "With these words, T'Pring, you are freed of our bond." He waved his fingers to the side and down.

"I hold it broken, Spock." She did the same.

He expected her to leave sickbay immediately, but she didn't. She rose and turned her back to him as she walked to Christine's office and rang for admittance.

He expected the door to stay closed to her.

He was wrong.

##

T'Pring had anticipated Chapel would be crying, as humans were so wont to do, but she was not. She was sitting at her desk, staring at her terminal like it held all the answers.

T'Pring could guess what it was. "A request to transfer home?"

Chapel nodded but didn't look at her.

"I have severed my bond with him. He wanted to come after you when you left. It told me what I needed to know."

Chapel turned, her expression full of regret. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I believe that. I also believe, if you accept him, he will break your heart."

"An astoundingly human way to put it." She looked confused, shocked even.

"You are human. I put it in a way you will resonate with. But I will put this in Vulcan terms: I know you will not choose La'an, but she is the logical choice."

"I don't want logic. I want love."

"So does she. So do not hurt her by toying with her the way you clearly have. And someday, after Spock and you are done with each other, and he moves on to yet another who is not me, consider La'an. If she is not already spoken for."

"By you?"

"No, she only said those things to make you jealous."

"He won't hurt me." But she did not sound certain.

"You can only see Spock. I was like that when I was younger. Before he went away to Starfleet and I ceased to exist other than the few times our paths crossed. You too will cease to exist the moment you are off this ship. And you will be off this ship if you plan to finish your degree, will you not?"

"You're not giving him any credit."

"You are right. I am not. He has...hurt me. I will admit that to you because I believe someday you will look back on this moment and remember I was right because you too will be hurt. I hope, for your sake, that I am wrong." She could feel Spock with what was left of the bond—the remnants of that would dissipate slowly. She could feel his anxiety. "He waits for you."

"I'm s—"

"Do not say you are sorry." Anything but that.

She left Chapel's office, leaving the door open, passing Spock as he headed to Chapel's office. Not waiting for the other woman to come to him. Wanting. Taking.

Or perhaps intent on undoing whatever he thought she had said to this woman he might or might not truly love.

"Goodbye, Spock," she murmured as she made her way out of sickbay and to the area where her shuttle was berthed.

##

Chapel looked up as Spock entered. "She thinks I'd be better off with La'an."

He sat and leaned in. "She may be right."

She could hear the pain in his voice as he said what was, for him, probably a very unwelcome truth. "I don't want La'an, Spock. I want you."

"I am relieved to hear that." He almost smiled. "T'Pring and I are over."

"So she said." Before he could say anything, she held up her hand. "Can we take this really slow?"

"Yes. But...we can take it...?" He sounded so tentative it made her smile, made her get up and walk around, and pull him to her, his head to her belly, his arms snaked around her as she played with his hair.

"We can."

##

La'an waited in the shuttlebay and saw T'Pring walking toward her. "He didn't deserve you."

"I agree. Just as she does not deserve you."

"Yeah, I may agree about that too someday. I'm not there yet."

"I understand. Clarity comes at its own speed."

"Indeed." She saw something in T'Pring's expression, something that felt broken, so she pulled her in for a hug—a hug the other woman fought for a second and then leaned into, holding on tightly, almost as tightly as Una did now that she wasn't trying to hide her superstrength. "I'm so sorry for kicking you in the meld thing."

"You are fierce. I respect that."

"If that Stonn guy doesn't work out..."

T'Pring eased away. "You deserve someone who chooses you first, not because something else does not work out."

"You're not wrong about that. But the heart wants what the heart wants."

"The heart is an organ that pumps blood. It is the mind that wants." T'Pring studied her. "I think he will hurt her."

"I think so too."

"Let it happen."

"That's not wisdom. That's just vengeance." La'an smiled in the way she thought her forefather Khan might have. With an icy knowing amusement. Because she was going to let it happen. This is what Christine wanted; this is what Christine could have.

Maybe she'd be there to pick up the pieces, maybe not.

"I do find you so intriguing." T'Pring touched her face, her fingers gentle on her skin. "Peace and long life to you."

"And to you." She watched T'Pring get into her little shuttle and then left the bay, heading for the bridge. "Hey, Chief," she said as she passed Una's chair.

"You're okay," Una was up and pulling La'an to her in an almost bone-breaking hug.

"I was until you crushed me."

"Damn. I need to relearn how to moderate. Once you let go, it's hard to go back."

Oh, how that applied to so much right now. "Understood. Okay if I take my station and work for a while?"

"You're a hundred percent?"

Her body was. Her heart...? "Fit as a fiddle."

"Then you've got the conn." And she was to the lift and gone.

##

Una barreled down to sickbay, Nobody was in the main part. M'Benga's office door was closed. She saw movement in Chapel's office and then realized she and Spock were making out frantically.

"Get a fucking room, you two." As they pulled apart hurriedly, she glared at Spock. "Also, aren't you engaged?"

"No longer."

"Hmmm. Weird day." She pointed to M'Benga's office. "The captain in there?"

"I believe so."

"Cat got your tongue, Chapel."

She peeked out, her hair a mess, clearly trying to pull the arm of her jumpsuit back on. "Here. I'm here."

"Seriously? You two actually do have a room. You are in your room. Your room has a door. Your door has a lock. Use it. Or better yet, wait till you're off duty."

"Yes, ma'am. I mean sir. I mean...right, yes, we will." She was flustered but under it all she looked really, really happy.

As did Spock. Happier than she'd ever seen him.

"Hell, who am I to spoil your fun? Close and lock that door and as you were." The door slid closed before she could say anything else. She heard noises she did not want to analyze so she walked down to M'Benga's office and used her command override to open it.

He and Chris looked up in surprise.

"Nice to see you two being so in charge from this room."

"They had stuff to work out." Chris gave her his most adorable smile. Then he pulled her onto his lap. "Did they work it out?"

"La'an is on the bridge. T'Pring is God knows where. And Chapel and Spock are getting it on in her office."

"Okay, that last part is unexpected. T'Pring is going to take Chapel's head off for sure."

"No, she and Spock have broken up. I don't know the details—you can ask him when he comes up for air. You have dinner plans, Joseph? Our esteemed captain here got some steaks in a day earlier than expected."

"They came?" He was unreasonably excited but Wagyu was so hard to find anymore.

"I do not have plans. But shouldn't our esteemed captain ask me himself?"

"Nyah, she does the talking for both of us."

"And it's a good thing you know that." She kissed him and got up. "Also, could you possibly get your ass up to the bridge and do captain things?"

"Oh, like you don't love sitting in the big chair?"

"I won't lie. I do."

She could hear M'Benga's laughter—and even more sounds coming from Chapel's office—as she and Chris went back to the bridge.

La'an gave up the chair without comment, and Una touched her shoulder. "You okay?"

"You already asked me that." Her expression told her she was far from okay but was not going to talk about it.

Fucking Chapel. Woman was a menace. "Okay."

She felt Chris behind her. "We've got Wagyu steak on the menu tonight. You in?" He had his voice pitched very low, so only La'an would hear him.

Una loved him for getting it, for knowing something was wrong. For all he loved to play the clueless goof with her, he missed nothing.

La'an's smile was very sweet, like she understood he was taking care of her because he wanted to, not because Una had told him to. "I'm in."

FIN