Lawful Obedience, Part Twelve

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Star Trek)
Rating: PG-13

LINK TO PART ONE

~

"You want to meld with him?" McCoy demanded.

"That is what I said, Doctor," Mr. Spock returned evenly.

Lee shut his eyes for a moment. He was sitting on one of the sickbay bunks, following the conversation with considerable—and not surprising—interest. This was not the first time he had noticed that the first officer and the chief medical officer seemed to have a contentious relationship, although their bickering was clearly laced with affection.

When Lee opened his eyes, he realized that Dr. McCoy was cocking his head at him. "Did Mr. Spock explain what, exactly, a mind meld is, General?"

"He is a yeoman now, Doctor," Spock pointed out. "And I did not yet explain the process in detail."

"Well, now would be a good time," McCoy spat. "Tell the general everything, Mr. Spock—including the risks for both of you."

"I will endeavor to explain the situation to the yeoman, Doctor," Spock retorted.

"Am I to understand that you will be, ah, reading my mind, Mr. Spock?" Lee managed. That seemed incredible—but Heaven alone knew what sort of powers an alien would have.

"Essentially, yes," Mr. Spock explained. "For the duration of the meld, our minds will be linked. Even your subconscious memories should be attainable in that state."

"Subconscious?" Lee repeated.

"Memories that you can't consciously access, but which are nonetheless still there," Dr. McCoy explained.

Lee furrowed his brow, thinking not only of the mind meld, but of the changes to the English language. Even familiar words—like access—seemed to have changed in their usage.

"The mind meld," Spock continued, "is, of necessity, quite intimate. On Vulcan, we use it as part of the means of forming a permanent mental link—a bond—between marriage partners."

"By mental link, you mean the ability to read each other's thoughts?" Lee asked. "To know what the other is feeling?"

"Yes," Spock answered. "It may be difficult for you to imagine."

Lee smiled at that. "Not quite, Mr. Spock. My wife and I were married for decades. We knew how to read each other's thoughts. And we could often sense each other's feelings—and, on occasion, even complete each other's sentences. I don't think that's uncommon among human couples, although I'm sure you speak of something even deeper."

"I do," Spock confirmed. "I find your information intriguing, however—but perhaps not unexpected. Humans do possess various psionic abilities, including telepathy, although they are largely undeveloped. It is not surprising that two humans in a long term, intimate relationship would develop a bond, even if it is not as deep as the bond between a Vulcan and his mate."

"General," Dr. McCoy said suddenly, "Wouldn't you say that love is a necessary part of that bond between marriage partners?"

"Of course," he answered. "Love is a necessary ingredient in any marriage."

"In a human marriage, perhaps," Mr. Spock interjected. "On Vulcan, we recognize the role logic must play in selecting a bond-mate. What humans call 'falling in love' is not sufficient grounds for selecting the person with whom to share one's life."

"I agree with you as well, sir," Lee said. "We must exercise logic in selecting a mate. It is of utmost importance, for example, that a man and his wife agree on their values."

"And 'falling in love,' from what I have seen of it, does not ensure such shared values," Spock said.

Lee smiled. "No, Mr. Spock, it does not. However—" he paused, trying to think through his words. "However, shared values are not enough either. For a successful marriage, a couple must be willing to love each other."

Spock cocked his head at him. "Be willing, Mr. Lee? You speak as if 'falling in love' is a choice."

"I'm not speaking of 'falling in love' at the moment, Mr. Spock. Romantic feelings wax and wane over the course of a marriage," Lee explained.

He paused again, choosing his words with care. "Love is not solely an emotion; it is also an action. A man must choose, day by day, to be faithful to his spouse, to be considerate of her needs, to be open to her opinions and to be honest in his dealings with her. That is just as crucial to the success of a marriage as any romantic feelings."

A look passed between Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy that Lee could not quite interpret. Apparently they had a long-standing debate on the issue of marriage. Or perhaps they merely enjoyed arguing about their respective cultures.

"Forgive me, gentlemen," Lee continued. "But we seem to have strayed from the point. I take it, Mr. Spock, that you have no desire to form a marriage-bond with me?"

He had meant that as a joke, but Spock seemed to take it seriously. "No, I do not," the Vulcan assured Lee. "However, one of the risks of a mind meld is the possibility of creating a permanent link. I am quite skilled, so that should not be a concern. But if you fight me during the meld, Mr. Lee—if you attempt to shield your thoughts from me—you risk compromising my skill in this matter."

"There is another risk," Dr. McCoy added. "If anything goes wrong, one or both of you could go mad."

Spock nodded. "The doctor is correct. Madness is a rare result of a mind-meld, but a possible one nonetheless. A Vulcan healer may be able to cure the madness—that would depend on the situation. I can offer you no guarantees."

"But if all goes well—and if I don't fight you—the risk of madness is minimal, sir?" Lee asked.

"Quite minimal," Mr. Spock answered. "It is difficult to calculate the precise odds, however—"

"Never mind the odds," Dr. McCoy cut in. "General, what do you think?"

Lee sighed, mulling over all the information. "I wish to know how I came to be here—and why. If Mr. Spock is willing, I shall take him up on his obliging offer."

~

Spock sat quietly beside Lee. The mind meld was over and Spock was confident that he had withdrawn without leaving a permanent link behind. Nor had either party suffered madness. Nonetheless, Spock was surprisingly reluctant to walk away from the human. He knew the man intimately enough now to realize that, for this moment at least, Lee required his companionship.

And so Spock asked Dr. McCoy to give them privacy. McCoy had stared from one to the other, but at length he had nodded and quietly left.

"Mr. Lee," Spock began, "You do, indeed, have latent psionic abilities. You learned rather more about me through the mind meld than I had intended. You now know something of my tentative new relationship with Dr. McCoy. I understand that, in your era, an affair between two men would be considered a sin and a crime—while a marriage between them would be impossible. Will this affect your ability to work with either of us?"

Lee had been blushing furiously throughout that speech, Spock noted. He seemed acutely embarrassed.

"Mr. Spock," he managed. "It is not my place to stand in judgment of you or Dr. McCoy. Rest assured that nothing I have learned will change the high opinion I have of both of you."

Spock nodded. "Naturally, I learned a great deal about you as well. You—you enjoyed war, for example. Not the deaths, but the fighting, the tactics, the battles, the strategy—even the hardships and privations."

"Yes," Lee owned. "It is well, sir, that war is so terrible. Otherwise we would grow too fond of it." He paused and gave the Vulcan a wry smile. "Washington said, 'I have heard the bullets whistle and there is something charming in the sound.' I cannot imagine a general who would disagree."

Spock considered that and thought at once of Kirk. "Nor a captain," he mused.

Lee nodded. "Quite."

Spock shifted a bit so that he was facing the yeoman. "Mr. Lee, you did indeed have a permanent bond of some sort with another person. It was faint—but otherwise not unlike the ones that Vulcans form." He paused. "But that person was not your wife."

Lee said nothing.


"And you had no 'romantic' connection to the man—nor even strong emotional feelings for him," Spock continued. "I am not even certain that the two of you were friends."

Lee had been staring ahead impassively, but he smiled at that. "Jackson was a friend," he insisted. "And I—I suppose I understood, on some level, that there was a link between us. At the very least, I knew that, militarily speaking, he was my other half."

He paused and his smile grew deeper and more affectionate. "We both knew, instinctively, the capabilities of the other. I could make my objectives known to him, without giving him detailed orders, and trust him to take the measures he deemed necessary to achieve them. He did not fail me."

Spock considered that. Through Lee's memories, he now had a perfect image of 'Stonewall' Jackson in his head. And he understood something of the link between the two men. Given that link, one thing still bothered him.

"You did not visit Jackson when he lay dying from his wounds," he pointed out. "Yet it would not have been impossible for you to do so."

Lee took a deep breath. "I couldn't, Mr. Spock. I knew what his death meant. I knew what a blow it was to the Confederacy. And—and to myself." He paused to sigh. "Besides, I did not need to be at his deathbed to know his thoughts and wishes, nor to know the pain he was in. And he, of all people, understood that I had duties to perform."

He paused yet again and shut his eyes for a moment. "When Jackson died, Mr. Spock, I was only half a general. I could not win that war without him."

"I do not know that you could have won it with him," Spock said. "The North had overwhelming advantages."

"That's very true, sir. But no one ever accused the Confederacy of an excess of logic."

Spock raised his eyebrows at that. "And yet you, Mr. Lee, are a logical man. You are, moreover, a man who has always attempted to master his emotions. Therefore, I am going to take it upon myself to give you advice."

He paused, looking for the words that would convey his exact meaning to the human. "You have buried your anger at your father for abandoning his family, your guilt for some of the decisions you made during the war and the pain and humiliation of defeat."

He paused again and narrowed his eyes at Lee. "But to bury feelings, Yeoman, is not to master them. Those feelings are still very much a part of you and they may yet do you harm."

To Spock's surprise, Lee smiled. "I know, Mr. Spock. And I know that you have feelings that you have buried, but not mastered."

Spock nodded. "That is true—my own struggles are what prompted me to give you that advice."

Lee nodded back, seeming to understand that. "I don't know if true mastery is possible," he confided. "Perhaps it is for a Vulcan, but I doubt so for a human."

"And so you will cease to try?"

He furrowed his brow. "I believe in doing my utmost to be happy, Mr. Spock. And happiness is achieved by living in the world you inhabit, taking things as you find them and making the best of them. That is what I try to do with troublesome feelings such as anger and pain and guilt and humiliation. To some extent, I have simply learned to live with them."

Spock mulled that over, wondering if the day would come when he would abandon the quest for complete mastery of his emotions and settle for 'learning to live with them.'

One thing was certain, however. That day had not arrived yet.

Mr. Lee placed a hand on his arm. "Shall we tell the captain and doctor what you have learned about the time when my mind was drugged and clouded?"

"Yes," Spock agreed. "I'll arrange a conference at once."

Link to Part Thirteen