Chapter Text
The day, as it always does, starts out like any other. He teaches his classes, he grades papers (and again, wonders how half these students gained acceptance when they could not formulate a proper sentence), and lastly, at the end of the day, he checks his emails. Of course, the single red flag denoting importance with the subject title: READ ASAP takes precedence over the laundry of other emails. Captain Garrovick normally did not send him emails, he was a much more 'tactile, personal' sort of man. But Captain Garrovick was also a devoted colleague who had, along with Captain Pike, taken great interest in his bridge stimulation.
The email was very much garbled. As though the man had been in a hurry, or was extremely agitated about something. Spock deduces both, considering the unnecessary, excessive use of capitalization and exclamation points. By the end of the elaborated message Spock is left intrigued by the cadet whom is the source of Garrovick's ire, and admittedly now his because learning not only was this the third time Cadet James T. Kirk has taken the exam. Except this time he had the audacity to somehow implant a program to enable him to reset the conditions of the stimulation. It was the first ever conundrum he's experienced, because no matter how long he studies the evidence, he still remains baffled, as much as a Vulcan be, how such a thing was even possible without his program's defense systems not notifying him. It was disconcerting as equally was it was perplexing.
Naturally, the commander of cadets is notified of the infraction.
At the mention of the aforementioned cadet’s name, Captain Pike lets out an unusual noise, between a laugh and a growl, it is hard to ascertain but the Captain looks amused and frustrated concurrently, but Spock is no expert in the fluctuating emotions of humans to be sure.
“I’ll leave it up to you and the Admiral,” Pike eventually says, “and, if you want my personal recommendation, you should make Kirk retake the test and fail every single day until he graduates.”
“You seem reluctant to penalize him,” Spock observes. “Academic dishonesty is a Starfleet Academy violation and grounds for dismissal."
At the word, Pike looks up, astounded. “You’re quick to follow the book, Commander, but let me tell you, a public hearing will suffice as humiliation enough. If that doesn’t work, then we can discuss discharge.” His last words are a barely-concealed order.
Interesting.
The hall fills up quickly with red, every cadet present for the impromptu hearing. While it was not completely unheard of; it was unusual for a meeting to be called without an explanation what the meeting was about. The amphitheater is buzzing with whispers, all speculating and gossiping of what this could be about. It is then when Spock spots him; unbeknownst to him then he is staring at the infamous James Kirk. At the moment, all Spock knows of the offender is what he read in his cadet file. James Tiberius Kirk. 25 earth human years of age. Son of the legendary George Kirk and engineer commander Winona Kirk, both posthumously awarded the Starfleet Medal of Honor. Command track. Impeccable academic record with scores that spoke volumes of the keen mind the cadet possessed. A reputation of disrespect and defiance towards authority. An impulsive, brash cadet, in the words of Captain Garrovick.
The cadet is dressed in standard uniform red, his collar unbuttoned and his hair tousled, the indentations on his cheek giving away he had been asleep before the meeting was called. Following closely is another cadet, older and dark-haired, frowning and prodding the blond-haired cadet with a tricorder. Judging by the close proximity the cadets are standing, he deduces they are familiar with each other. Humans tended to be very particular about ' personal space' and only allowed close friends or mates to be near them. (Again this emphasizes why he will never fully understand a race that could forgo any sense of reasoning when it comes to their mating rituals yet outside of them, they were strict about maintaining public propriety).
“Bones, what did I tell you?”
“Kid, I doubt Command would call every single cadet here just to gawk at you. There’s a podium - not a good sign. The set up is just like a trial -”
“Maybe the podium is there for my acceptance speech, Bones. After all, how often does Starfleet announce a commendation on top of the valedictorian award?”
“If that were true, which it’s not, the podium would be facing the audience. If your head inflates any more, no ship in the entire armada will be able to withhold the size of your expanding ego -"
“Maybe that’s why they’re saving the best ship for me then too. So my enormous ego can fit through. I think my lady love is almost ready for her maiden voyage. Perfect timing as I gain my commission, isn’t it?”
“You’re absolutely unbelievable.”
The cadet is blond with vivid blue eyes, the combination drawing the appreciative gazes of male and female species alike as he walks down the steps towards the front, reminding Spock that there is a certain universality of physical aesthetics that in exceptional instances transcends species. If Spock were fully human, he would be captivated as well. Thankfully, he is not. However, it is hard to overlook the strange fragrance Spock picks up as the cadet passes by.
The room comes to attention when the academy council walks in. Admiral Barnett, the academy commandant, sits down and everyone follows, the hall eerily silent when moments before it had been brimming with noise.
“James T. Kirk, step forward.”
There’s a prolonged pause. Cadets’ heads swivel as they zone in on the same blond-haired cadet that Spock had been observing moments before.
“Jim!” the dark-haired cadet beside him whispers urgently as he stands, “your pheromones are - "
“Shuttup, Bones,” Jim hisses, and even with his enhanced auditory senses, Spock cannot make out what he says next. Within seconds, Cadet Kirk is leaning against the podium, face red as if the effort had exhausted him. There’s a sudden murmur, and Admiral Barnett continues.
“An incident has occurred,” Admiral Barnett begins, and the murmurs immediately cease, “that concerns the entire student body. Academic immorality by one is an assault on us all. It will not be allowed to stand. Cadet Kirk, evidence has been submitted to this council you violated the ethical code of conduct pursuant to Regulation One-Seven point three of the Starfleet Code. Is there anything you care to say before we begin?”
Flustered, Cadet Kirk answers, his tone calm and in control despite his perturbed appearance, “Yes sir, I do. I believe I have the right under that same code of conduct to face my accuser directly.”
Cadet Kirk was not incorrect in his assertion and when Admiral Barnett looks at him, Spock stands up and Kirk follows the Admiral’s gaze and meets Spock’s dark eyes.
Kirk then sputters, his eyes wide with an emotion Spock cannot decipher. But those vivid blue eyes somehow look more enticing directed at him. Where he had felt aggravation and perplexity, now he feels an unexplained urge to covet the cadet at the bottom of the steps. There is shifting and the rustle of cadets restlessly moving in their seats.
It takes Spock a moment to realize what he is being exposed to is omega pheromones. Which up to this moment did not affect him as it did other species. Human alphas were especially prone. But Spock is half-human and his half-human side is whispering unbidden words of mine and mate and take in his mind. Considering the sheer number of alphas in the room, it is not hard to miss the vulnerability Kirk exhibits as he trembles and it brings forth an unwarranted burst of possessive rage from within him.
“Jim -" Captain Pike stands up abruptly and makes his way over.
But Kirk has already run out, leaving Spock strangely bereft.