The Past Remembered - The Brand

[mirroredcommand]

[OOC: This occurs during the year 2253. The year that Pike and Spock left from was 2263, so this was ten years ago. They were only bonded five years ago, to put things into perspective.]

It was not even a full year into their five year mission, but already things had become interesting with his young crew. They desired to rise in the ranks with more urgency then older crews, say the one he had left behind on the I.S.S. Yorktown, but they were young fools without realizing the consequences of having little to no experience in not only the possible new rank, but even in the ways of assassination. Several weak attempts had already been made for his life, but they had been easily dealt with early on. Now things had settled and they were all dealing with their newly acquired positions or grumbling about the failures they had suffered.

There were four in particular that still concerned him, and Pike was keeping the closest eyes on them. The first was his helmsman, Hikaru Sulu. The young man was brilliant in his abilities in flight, absolutely ruthless, but he would not leave alone any young lady that walked onto the bridge. The second was his navigator, the scruffy haired child who was the youngest on his ship. Chekov seemed innocent, but was anything but. He was a silent assassin, vicious and very good at what he did. Pike still couldn't find the body of the person he had originally chosen to be his alpha navigator. Nyota Uhura was dangerous. She was one of the few women to reach as high as she had without sleeping with anyone; she just killed anyone who was in her way. They were often found in their beds, and it often involved a lot of blood.

Then there was Spock, the last of his crew that he was dealing with more often then expected. He heard the constant rumors about 'the Vulcan' on their crew. People were afraid of him, even as they tried to hide it with false bravado. He had taken a shine to the young Vulcan he had bent over the console on the bridge his first day and proven to the crew he had no fear of those who, as rumors put it, 'could turn his mind to mush and drink it through a straw.'

Spock was his, chosen by him when everyone else was too foolish to see possibility. He had been forced to defend Spock on several occasions, most without Spock knowing he had stepped in. One attempt already included a small group who decided to take care of the 'green-blood' on their ship. It had been all too recently that he had been forced to step up and defend Spock in a more physical manner, to prove his point. Spock was a part of his crew, and despite the rumors passing between ships and across Starfleet, was not a slave.

The flesh around his right arm was still tender, itching and burning alternatively despite the incident having happened just over a month ago. It was an ugly reminder of the whip that had curled around his forearm and burned through the skin to the bone. McCoy's skilled hands had been part of fixing it, but also Spock's diligence in making up for the marks by helping him to tend it. Pike was surprised to realize he had begun to trust the young science officer.

He had brought Spock to his rooms more then once a week for a while now, mostly enjoying the mix of resentment and almost puppy-like devotion that came from the half-Vulcan and teaching him the base pleasures of pain and sex. It was almost impossible to find such a raw mass of possible talent that had no molding what so ever, and he had it in one convenient package. He sent the boy back to his own quarters each night, unless he planned to keep Spock trussed up for the entire night.

Pike looked across the room to the collection of leather, metal, and toys he had in mostly plain sight. The weaponry that crossed the walls was more vivid, but the collection was impressive that he allowed it to be displayed. When he wanted to enjoy someone, even more so when they were going to fight back, he wanted to always have something appropriate on hand to deal with them. In fact, the more they fought, the better it often was. Spock had gone back to his bed with no end of marks on his wrists, ankles, neck, and elsewhere.

Tonight, he had yet to decide what he would do with the young Vulcan. The possibilities were endless, and he had yet to find the limits of how far he could push the boy.

Comments

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Everytime. The door locked as his senses went on alert. Spock could feel the air currents, could smell the leather of Pike's chair, could all but hear the human's heart beat, steady and deep.

He moved as directed, stood in front of Pike at ease with his arms folded behind his back.

"I was completing the data input for a personal experiment I am considering. It was simple to delay."

It had been simple. Once he had unclenched his fingers from around the edge of his console.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"What sort of personal experiment?" Pike questioned, unmoving from his chair. He was both curious about what Spock might be up to as well as it only lengthened their game and made the prize that much more sweet.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Pike had asked these sorts of questions in the past - and seemed genuinely interested in the answer, as a general rule.

Spock did him the courtesy, then, of a genuine answer in return.

"It is a matter of artificial intelligence. In your Earth history, the philosophical concept of the Chinese Room argument was developed in challenge to the Turing test, in pursuit of further developing the concept of intentionality - an expression of what it means to truly understand a thing."

His enthusiasm for the subject was evident only in the eager line of his jaw, the rest of him composed and impassive even down to his calm and measured voice.

"My current project is to determine if it is possible to involve the Enterprise computer intelligence in a series of experiments that will determine with what degree of intentionality she acts."

((OOC - a quick and dirty explanation of the Chinese Room is here (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_room).))

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

[OOC: That was incredibly fascinating to read! I had never heard of such a thing before.]

It was a most intriguing concept and unique in its fashion. Pike leaned forward, fingers steepling, "What caused you to want to experiment on something like this?" Their game could wait in the face of a true scientific curiosity, in particular one that involved his ship.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

((OOC - I am glad you enjoyed it!))

"The human tendancy to embue the inanimate with personality of its own. There are many crew members who regard the Enterprise as a singular individual, capable of autonomous action that is completely self-motivated rather than in reliance on embedded and programmed expectations or orders. They attribute many emotional responses to the ship herself."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"I designed a good deal of this ship myself. I helped to develop its capabilities. It can learn, as such, but it is still designed to follow its programming." Pike leaned back in his chair, "Though I'll be very interested in reading your findings."

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

"I am aware. On both subjects."

Spock had researched the design and building of the ship extensively as soon as he had been chosen by Pike.

"Yet it is good to confirm that which we might assume to be true."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

The statement had Pike's lips curling and he stood up, "Yes, a good point, that." He walked around the small table to where Spock stood and looked the younger man over once before grasping his chin. "I wonder what I should confirm today."

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

This was the hardest moment of his internal struggle. To allow Pike to... handle him, so casually, as though he had the right to touch Spock whenever he wanted. The tension rose in Spock and he almost vibrated with it before his lashes swept down in a fan across his cheek and a slow, controlled exhale released the tightness of his chest.

"What do you have reason to question?"

He raised his eyes again - choosing to allow this did not mean he was broken by it - and arched a brow.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

It was another reason he brought Spock back again and again. Some would willingly submit like pups rolling to their backs and exposing their throats. Some fought every moment and were not worth the effort. Some shattered after only once and were useless after. Spock defied all of this, and kept him interested.

Pike thought about the answer to Spock's question, his eyes remaining on Spock's face and taking in every minute movement of it. Finally, he smirked, "Your loyalty." He remarked, "After all, all men have their reasons, their price."

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock had been, for the course of his entire life, shaped to and by other people's purposes. He could bend. But the death of Sarek had freed him from being tethered to any individual. He gave his loyalty only where he chose.

Pike had earned it many times over. The scar wrapping around his captain's right arm, that Spock aided him in tending, was a constant reminder.

"Why do you doubt my loyalty? I ask not in protest, of course, but simply in order to determine the most efficient route to assuaging your concern."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"Confirming is not the same as doubting." Pike pointed out, "Do you believe that the Enterprise is capable of responding on its own merit instead of following its programming?"

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock considered.

"A philosophical question, then. Philosophically, my loyalty is demonstrated every time I accept an invitation to your quarters... Captain."

The pause was accompanied by a significant eyebrow, the other one this time, and a tilt of his head.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"Not necessarily so." Pike lifted his chin, amused at their banter. "There are others who would come to achieve their own goals, loyal or not."

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

"Philosophically, my loyalty is demonstrated whenever anyone else accepts an invitation to your quarters."

Spock removed his chin from Pike's grasp.

"Vulcans are not renowned for their ability to share, no matter how unanticipated or nontraditional the circumstances surrounding their involvement."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Now it was Pike's turn for his brows to raise, surprised at Spock's answer. It was a bold statement, for all of its subtly. He stepped back and circled Spock halfway, gestured dismissively with the smallest movement of two fingers. "Uniform." He wanted, as always, to see the canvas he had to work with.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Obeying a direct order was a simple matter compared to allowing Pike's casually possessive touch. The Vulcan looked oddly vulnerable with his uniform tunic ruffling his hair as he pulled it over his head.

The clothes were neatly folded and placed on Pike's small table, each item until he was silent and still and unself-consciously nude.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Pike gestured for Spock to stand in the center of the room, allowing him to slowly walk in a circle around him. He checked only the scant remains of their last session, the Vulcan's ability to heal was an annoyance when it came to making things last. It also was for him to check for any new marks, signs of someone else touching Spock whether in play or pain.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

"Philosophically," Spock spoke softly and watched Pike circle him, examine him and frown slightly at the clear skin that showed so little evidence of Pike's claiming, "I generally find physical contact quite unbearable. Yet I engage in it quite often with you."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"You have good taste." Pike stated with amusement, circling back to Spock's front. He drew the edge of his finger along Spock's jaw, the lights of the room bright on the pink-white scarring on his arm. The markings left behind were ugly, the muscle lost, as the Empire's doctors were not taught to bother healing the physical beauty of the natural body.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

"It is hardly a matter of taste. It is only logical."

Spock turned his head to allow Pike greater access to his jaw, to make his ear and neck more available as well.

"Philosophically, I consent to your marks upon me."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"How is it logical?" In what manner had Spock deemed his unusual reaction logical? His fingers drifted down along the curve of the neck, resting leather-covered tips over the rapid flutter of the pulse.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

His pulse accelerated under the sliding, gliding touch.

"Humans leak their emotions, trail fear and lust and hunger and pain like puppies who cannot hold their urine. Even accidental touches are accompanied by the barrage of their garbage. It is logical to despise this. It is logical to appreciate touch which does not result in similar mental assault. Even more logical then to appreciate touch that does not result in mental assault and which is accompanied by... more pleasant sensation."

He might have been speaking to the wall for all the inflection in his voice. But his human eyes followed Pike's movements.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"Intriguing." Pike turned his hand over so his thumb pressed into the pulse, a pressure point. "A more pleasant sensation." He repeated the words in the same tone, then smirked coolly. "You have not always called those sensations pleasant."

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock held himself still under the feather-light pressure.

"It would be illogical to expect any experience to present only homogenous stimuli. The overall effect is... satisfactory."