- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:

This is really new for me. English isn't my first language and I never wrote a Star Trek fic. But I'm trying my best :)


The atmosphere on the bridge of the Enterprise was thick. Captain Kirk’s fingers were white from the pressure of the deathgrip he had on the armrests of his chair. Behind him, he could hear Lieutenant Uhura sob quietly into the sleeve of her uniform, because she had no tissue.

The air was almost too hot to breathe – at least in Kirk’s opinion. He had to forcibly drag the air into his lungs, but it seemed that it rushed uselessly out of his body as soon as another violent smack echoed throughout the bridge.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed onto the viewscreen which didn’t show the vast, dark void of space and its pinpricks of glistening stars or the round body of another planet. It showed the bridge of another spaceship. An Andorian spaceship to be precise. The skin of its inhabitants glowed eerily from the dark environment and the near black garments they were wearing.

However, Kirk had no eyes for the blue skin or the crisp, white hair or the twitching antennae. His gaze was riveted on the figure in the middle of the foreign bridge.

Another smack and his stomach gave an almost painful lurch. He could hear heavy, liquid breathing over the speakers and knew that they were coming from the victim of the Andorians. The man that was currently kneeling naked, bound and bleeding on the cold, rough surface of the starship. The man that was repeatedly violated by three Andorians who had to beat him into a semblance of submission first and then drug him, so he wasn’t able to use his telepathic abilities. Spock.


An almost silent grunt was heard and the Andorian threw his head back. His grip on Spock’s hips was murderous. A few seconds later he withdrew with a second grunt and started to fasten his trousers. Kirk felt the acid in his stomach well up his oesophagus, as he witnessed the slow trickle of blood and semen from the raw, abused orifice down the trembling, white thighs of his first officer. He couldn’t see Spocks face, but he was certain with a grim satisfaction, that the Vulcan was showing his usual mask. At least these bastards wouldn’t get the satisfaction to see what they were doing to the psyche of their victim.

The view of the trembling body was blocked by the face of the Andorian leader. He didn’t even know his name. This whole ordeal was so... pointless.

“Captain Kirk.” The bright eyes seemed no longer not only cold but almost lifeless. They studied him without passion and skimmed over the rest of the silent, sickened crew currently on the bridge of the Enterprise.

“Give us what we want or the Vulcan will have to endure further... attention from my guards. You don’t want that, do you? Just give us the medicine, you can have him back and we’ll be on our way. Happy faces all around.” Pale blue lips twitched slightly in amusement, while his antennae softly swung from side to side.

Kirks right hand curled into a fist and he closed his eyes. How could it have come to this? How could he not have sensed the danger that was emanating from the new Andorian crewmember and his fascination with the Vulcan? How could he not have realised that it wasn’t a mere crush – which the crew of the Enterprise jokingly called it – but the cold calculation of a spy that had seen the weak spot of the bravest and most fearless Captain of Starfleet and tried to discern a way to get to his intended victim? And how – how! – could he ever look into the soft, brown eyes of his first officer again, after he repeatedly refused the demands of the Andorians and brought with his stubbornness wave after wave of pain and humiliation over the gentle creature?

But what was he supposed to do? They couldn’t give the medicine to the Andorians. It was needed by the Mektorians. They had to have the precious cargo or else thousands of people would die.

“Captain...” whispered the soft voice of Uhura behind him. How should his loyal crew deal with the atrocities they had witnessed these past hours? This wasn’t a stranger on the bridge of the Andorians – which would have been bad enough. But it was someone they all knew. Someone they all worked with. Someone so gentle and caring that it perverted this act so much more; that it made Kirks head pound in agony. It was Spock cowering on the bridge of the enemy ship. Spock with countless wounds. Spock with semen and blood dripping down his legs.

The Andorian Commander waited patiently. He had a superior smirk on his blue lips and his head wasn’t steady. It seemed that he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Kirk hit the button to communicate with the engineering department.

“Mr. Scott.” He didn’t have to say more than that. The voice of the engineer almost instantly answered.

“Aye Captain. I’m still working. Their shields are like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m – “

“I want him back, Scott,” was the simple answer. Kirks voice was hoarse and soft. A few seconds silence and then: “Aye sir.”

The Andorian said nothing. His smirk grew slightly to a bigger smile. He seemed to be bouncing more enthusiastically. He was self assured.

Kirk’s stomach twisted in rage and hate. He wanted to seize the blue head and pound it into the nearest surface until it was nothing more but a bloody, messy pulp. He wanted to rip apart the other Andorians, that had been violating Spock repeatedly. He wanted to –

“I’m waiting, Captain. What shall it be? Medicine or more... fun?”

Kirk jumped up from his chair. His chin was stubbornly thrust forward.

“I want to trade places.”

“That was not an option.”

“I want to trade places.”

The Andorian stared at the famous Captain of the Enterprise and seemed to ponder this new development as a new voice interrupted.

Spock hadn’t said one word since the viewscreen had flickered on and shown his vulnerable body crouching on the bridge. His head had been stubbornly raised but he didn’t so much as moan. No matter what these bastards had done to him. Now he spoke and his voice was a liquid gurgle in the silence of both bridges, “No, Captain. There is no need to compromise the mission further. Please... just... leave.”

Kirk winced. The pauses were highly uncharacteristic and made him shiver. He opened his mouth to protest but Spock spoke again, “The Mektorians need the medicine...”

Kirk curled his hands into fists.

“We won’t leave without my First Officer.”

The lips of the Andorian curled into a slow, evil smile.

“It seems we have come to a stalemate. How about a little... help for the decision?”

He swivelled his head around and barked something that Kirk could not understand. Then he stepped out of the screen and Kirk could see one of the guards walking up to the kneeling Vulcan. He had a thick steel pipe in his hands and an ugly grin on his face.

Kirk felt a cold shiver running down his spine and a red haze clouded his vision.


Chapter End Notes:


I happily accept a beta if someone is willing... :)

03/20/2013 The spelling and grammar errors have been (hopefully) corrected.

You must login (register) to review.