Scenario: Create a story showing what the Rumairie festival is like in the mirror universe. In the story, include mirror Spock and pair him with the character of your choice.  

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Circles Within Circles
by Lianne Burwell
April 2001
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"This is insulting," Jim Kirk snarled to the room at large.
"We're a *war* ship, not a transport."

Spock smiled faintly as he watched his captain tug at the
dress uniform he rarely wore. In fact, it looked almost a
little too small for the man, something that must gall him
dreadfully. "I would not call it an insult to carry the
Vulcan Chancellor home for the festival of Rumairie," he
said in a tone of voice that was designed to be completely
inoffensive to any eavesdroppers while as annoying as
possible to the man it was directed at. He was rewarded by
the stiffening of the back in front of him.

"And I suppose that the Chancellor is an old family friend
of yours too," Kirk said with a sneer, glancing over his
shoulder at Spock, who was standing behind and to the right
of him as was proper for first officer.

"In a manner of speaking," Spock replied enigmatically,
then faced the transporter pad, hands clasped behind him.
"Energize," he told the transporter chief before the
Captain could demand an explanation.

The hum of the machinery was offensive to his ears, but he
did not show any sign of his discomfort. The sound rose
into a crescendo as multi-colored sparkles swirled in
circles, announcing yet another arrival. Then the noise and
light faded to reveal the Chancellor and his party.

"Chancellor Sarek, it is an honor to have you aboard," Kirk
said, stepping forward, the picture of obsequiousness.
There was no sign of the irritation he'd been showing only
a moment before.

"Indeed," was the only response as the man stepped down
from the platform, followed by his wife, the required three
steps behind him, his aides and guards. "I assume our
quarters are ready?"

"Of course," Kirk replied, sounding a little miffed at the
lack of complements in answer to his own. After all, Spock
knew he would rant later, the 'Enterprise' was the Empire's
premiere warship. What would it cost the Chancellor to
acknowledge that? "Right this way."

Spock indicated for one of his personal guard to have the
Chancellor's bags taken to his quarters, then followed the
entourage out of the room.

Behind him, he could hear the transporter chief breathe a
sigh of relief and smiled to himself. Of course the man
would have to be punished for his lack of restraint and he
amused himself with contemplating that punishment.

>>>~~~<<<

Sarek looked around the quarters, the largest VIP quarters
on board, then turned back to Kirk. "Adequate," he said
curtly, and Spock could see the human fighting back the no-
doubt automatic retort. "Leave us."

Kirk's jaw clenched, but he turned and headed for the door.
Spock moved to follow him, but a soft "Spock," stopped him.

He turned and waited for the door to slide shut behind his
captain. The man would grill him later, wanting to know why
*he* was asked to stay instead of Kirk, what it was that
the Chancellor wanted from *him*.

Not that Spock would tell him, off course.

Sarek held out his arms and waited until his wife -- his
fourth -- removed the formal robes and took them to the
bedroom. She would wait for him there, naturally, and with
the aides already gone to their own rooms, the two men were
alone.

Spock watched silently as the man poured himself a glass of
the Romulan ale from the flask he extracted from one of his
bags. The liquor was exorbitantly expensive, since the race
that had made it had been extinct for nearly a century
after refusing to become a 'protectorate' of the Empire.
Many a brew master had tried to duplicate the potent
liquid but none had succeeded yet.

He did not offer Spock a glass.

"Spock," the man said gravely, sipping the bright blue
liquid carefully.

"Father," Spock said, just as formally. He knew that Sarek
had already blocked any listening devices automatically.

Sarek frowned at him for a moment, waiting, but Spock
stayed silent. Then the man snorted softly. "Stubborn as
ever. I see you still choose to dishonor the clan by
settling for being merely second in command of this ship.
Give up this foolish rebellion. Return home. There are much
more prestigious positions that would be yours if you
asked."

Spock remained silent.

Sarek drained the last of his glass in a sudden move, then
put it down. "Tomorrow night is the first Rumairie since
you reached adulthood," he said firmly. "You will attend."

"And if I choose not to?" Spock asked mildly.

"Then the choice will be made for you and you will have no
option but to bow your head and accept," Sarek nearly
shouted at him. Then his voice dropped. "The house of Tamek
has approached me. They have a daughter, T'Pring. Beautiful
and well-trained. A fine match."

"No."

"Those are your choices. It is up to you. You may go now."

Spock turned at the brusque dismissal, suddenly eager to be
away from the suite and the man in it.

>>>~~~<<<

Three days later, the 'Enterprise' arrived in orbit above
Vulcan. Spock had increased his own duty hours during that
time and managed to avoid his father, except for the during
the grand tour that Kirk had given the man. Spock was eager
for the older Vulcan to be gone from the ship, but he knew
that it was foolish to hope that the departure would free
him. This was confirmed when he went to the transporter
room to see the Chancellor leave.

"Captain," Sarek said, pausing as he stepped up onto the
platform, sounding almost as if he'd suddenly had an idea.
"The festival of Rumairie is tonight. Perhaps you would
like to attend? Perhaps even some of your crew."

Kirk's eyebrows went up in obvious surprise. "I would be
honored, Chancellor."

"Good. I will expect you and your first officer for dinner.
My secretary will contact you with the transporter
coordinates."

"I'll look forward to it," Kirk said, sounding genuinely
pleased. Then he nodded to the transporter chief to beam
them down to the surface.

"Well," he said, turning back to Spock. "Perhaps this won't
be as much a waste of time as I thought. After all,
anything that involves a party can't be all bad. I'll see
you later then, Spock."

Spock didn't bother to protest. His father had, once again,
out-maneuvered him. As always.

As he left, he was pleased to note that there were no
comments from the chief this time. Of course, the man was
probably still sleeping on his stomach.

>>>~~~<<<

At sundown, they beamed down to the Chancellor's estate.
The coordinates they'd been given were for the crest of a
hill just inside the gates that gave an excellent view of
just how large and opulent the estate was. Beside him, Kirk
gave a low whistle. "I'll bet *this* place costs a pretty
penny," he said.

Spock snorted. "It would not be for sale for any number of
pennies," he replied. "Family estates are inherited or
destroyed by enemies, but never bought."

"Whatever," the human said, sounding irritated at being
corrected. "Let's go see what sort of a shindig the
Chancellor puts on."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't be disappointed," Spock said,
following the man towards the closest door, wondering just
what his father was up to. Just inviting the crew to join
the festival was a breach of conduct. Of course, by
inviting Kirk to his own party, he guaranteed that Spock
would be forced to attend as well.

But he couldn't help feeling that there was more to the
man's plans than to just force his son's presence. Sarek's
plans were never that simple to discern, which was why the
man was Chancellor of Vulcan.

However he knew a way to defeat *one* of his father's
plans. "Of course, the true party is in the streets of
ShiKahr," he said mildly.

"Really? And what happens there?"

Spock shrugged. "Drinking, fighting, fucking. That sort of
thing." He managed to put a wealth of disdain into his
voice.

He could almost see the human rub his hands together.
"Sounds like my kind of party."

"Indeed."

Spock would have said more, but they'd reached the main
house. From outside, they could hear the sound of music and
harsh laughter. The feast would have already started and
would continue until dawn the next day, along with the
orgy. Spock knew that Kirk would find that excitement
enough, frail human that he was, but he'd planted the
seeds. Now he just needed to wait for them to sprout.

>>>~~~<<<

The party was much as Spock had expected. Sarek, in his
role as Chancellor, had to provide the greatest spectacle.
Dancing girls weaved their way through the room, dressed in
wisps of fabric that did nothing to protect them from the
grasping hands of free men and women alike. The girls
danced on the tables and performed in other ways in
private alcoves. At one point, Spock saw his captain emerge
from one of those alcoves rumpled and radiating self-
satisfaction. A moment later, one of the girls, a green
Orion slave girl, emerged from the same alcove, looking
dazed and slightly bruised. Spock snorted his disdain.

As expected, T'Pring had been presented to him and he paid
court to her for as short a time as he could get away with.
Like all females of her age and rank, she was vapid and
uneducated. She spent all her time exclaiming at the
prestige of the guests and making inane comments about
their clothing. Spock abandoned her as quickly as he could
without completely insulting her family. The only good
thing he could think of about marrying her was that he
would not have to live with her. Get her with child and
send her off to one of the family's estates to spend her
time in seclusion. Spock could think of few things women
were truly suited for, other than warming beds and bearing
children.

Not that he was foolish enough to say so in the hearing of
the lovely Lieutenant Uhura, of course. She was entirely
too quick with that dagger or hers.

Gradually, the party moved to one of the courtyards where
banquet tables and reclining seats had been set up around
the perimeter. Spock frowned as Kirk was invited to take
the seat next to his father. Sarek's wife -- his second
since Spock's mother had died while carrying a second child
-- was nowhere to be seen and Spock began to wonder again
at his father's intentions. If he wanted Kirk for his bed,
it would interfere with Spock's plans.

Spock took a couch a short distance away, close enough to
hear their conversation, and refused the offer of a brandy
from one of the servers. Tonight of all nights, he wanted
his head clear.

The two men chitchatted about politics and battles fought
as the first two gladiators demonstrated their skills. When
the loser had been dragged from the sands, Sarek turned to
Kirk. "So, what do you think of Rumairie so far, Captain?"

"Quite entertaining," Kirk smirked. "Most humans think that
Vulcans are simply cold-blooded killers, but that is
obviously not true." He waved at one of the groups fucking
on the other side of the courtyard. They were surrounded by
onlookers who called encouragements and suggestions and
even reached out from time to time to pinch a nipple,
fondle an ass. The woman came first, biting into the
shoulder of the man fucking her, hard enough to draw
emerald blood. He threw his head back and bellowed as the
man behind him pounded to his own climax. The three slipped
apart to applause and catcalls. Eager hands grabbed each,
pulling them into new configurations as the second group of
gladiators bowed to the Chancellor and started their own
battle.

Kirk was groping himself in a way that Spock found
disgusting. The man was a brilliant tactician and a vicious
fighter, but when it came to sex, he was crude beyond
belief. Spock had yet to see the man turn down a fuck, no
matter what the other person's gender, looks or even
species. Kirk had the distinction, if you could call it
that, of being the only human to ever be fucked by a Gorn.
Of course, he was also the only human who would *want* to
be. He glanced over towards his Captain and found the man
looking at him with a smug expression. He looked forward to
wiping it away.

All in good time, though.

The fights continued until well past midnight, and Spock
was beginning to wonder if all his plans were going to be
thwarted, but finally the party began to break apart into
smaller groupings. Sarek remained at Kirk's side the entire
time, until one of the other guests, a clan lord, drew him
aside.

At that point, Kirk was alone for the first time since
arriving, and his expressing turned crafty. Spock followed
the human from a distance as he weaved his way through the
thinning crowd. As the human headed for a side door, Spock
allowed himself a small, triumphant smirk: After serving
with the man for several years, he was very easy to
manipulate.

He swerved and headed for one of the other exits. In the
cloak room, he took up a dark over-robe with a hood and put
it on. Moving quickly, he was able to catch up with Kirk
before he got far and set to following the man. He kept to
the shadows, of which there were plenty with T'Khut
eclipsed. That eclipse, which only happened ever ten years
or more, was the reason for the festival. It was just as
well that it did not happen more often, since it led to
enough chaos to keep the entire planet in confusion for
weeks.

Kirk took some wrong turns, since he'd never been in the
city -- or on Vulcan, for that matter -- before, but even
he couldn't miss the shouts and sound of breaking glass. In
a way, it was reminiscent of Beta III where the
inhabitants, influenced by the computer running the planet,
were quite and demure and proper most of the time, but went
into a frenzy during the festival of Landru. The Enterprise
had taken the computer back to the Empire scientists for
analysis. There was some talk that it might be useful for
pacifying rebellious colonies on the outer frontier. As for
Beta III, the first colonists would be sent in five years.
If any of the original inhabitants survived until then
without their central computer, they would be absorbed into
the new colony.

Finally, Kirk reached the center of the city, following his
ears. He was walking down the middle of the street, looking
around with a gleeful expression as normally cool and
controlled Vulcans fought and fucked in the streets. He had
the look of someone out to find trouble, and if he wasn't
careful, it would find him.

Spock followed him a little more openly now, safe in the
crowds. Kirk showed absolutely no caution.

One large Vulcan pushed away from a wall and started to
weave his way through the crowd, headed towards the blond
human. Spock pushed his way forward, catching the man's
eye, and shook his head. The man paused, as if he were
considering ignoring the warning, then nodded his head and
backed away, looking for a new target. He recognized a
fellow hunter and was willing to recognize a prior claim.

However, that did not guarantee that the next hunter would
be as courteous. Kirk was an attractive man. Blondes were
very rare on Vulcan, so they were highly prized. Time to
end the chase.

Spock saw Kirk heading towards a Vulcan woman more than a
handspan taller than himself and dressed in the traditional
tight leather of the warriors of T'Mak. His intentions were
easy to guess and would get him killed. Spock had wanted to
draw the game out a little longer, but the little fool
wasn't leaving him much choice.

Just before Kirk reached the woman, Spock caught up with
him. Silently, he grabbed the man's arm and dragged him
into a nearby alley. The space wasn't completely vacant,
but Spock didn't care.

"What the... Spock! What the hell do you think you're
doing," Kirk snarled, trying to pull his arm out of Spock's
grasp. "Let go of me, mister. That's an order."

Spock smirked, and didn't let go. "I don't think so," he
said, pushing the man further into the darkness until a
wall stopped them. The sounds of passion in the dark
paused, then started up again once the participants decided
that they weren't being interrupted or evicted.

"I'm your captain..."

"Not tonight, you aren't. Tonight you are just a human who
has bitten off more than he can chew, to borrow one of your
own colorful expressions. You have no idea what you are
doing."

"Trying to have a good time," the man snarled, still trying
to get away. His movements were getting distracting, so
Spock pinned him to the wall with his own body. Kirk froze
for a moment, and Spock could feel the other man's erection
pressing against his thigh. He'd wondered about Kirk's
aggressive tendencies, and now he knew his suspicions were
correct: The man was compensating. Then he started twisting
in Spock's grip again, even though he didn't have a hope of
getting away.

Spock chuckled. "The only thing that approaching one of
T'Mak's warrior would get you is dead," he said.

Kirk frowned. "Who?"

"The virgin goddess of war. Her followers are equally
chaste and to suggest otherwise invites a slow and painful
death."

That seemed to get through to the man. Kirk turned pale
white under his carefully cultivated tan and he stopped
struggling. "How the hell was I supposed to know that?" he
blustered.

Spock smiled. "Exactly. You don't know. You didn't even
bother to find out what the festival is all about."

"To celebrate an eclipse," Kirk said with a sneer.
"Although that's a pretty stupid thing to be celebrating.
Very primitive for such a *rational* race." He nearly spat
the word out.

"The eclipse is only the signal," Spock said, pressing his
groin against Kirk's hip, letting the man know that *he*
had no need to compensate. "Rumairie is a festival of
claiming."

He let his movements speak for him. Truth was, Rumairie was
rarely used for more than an excuse to drop the usual
Vulcan control. However, he was going to go back to the
ancient meaning of the festival, and a grind of his hips
against the other man's hinted at what that was.

Kirk's expression darkened. "If you think I'm going to let
you..." he sputtered to a stop.

"Fuck you? You have no choice in the matter. But I don't
intend to just fuck you. I intend to *claim* you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that unless you can stop me, and a very much
doubt that you can, I am going to take you as my mate. In
fact, under Vulcan law you would be my... property."

Kirk's eyes widened. "Like hell!"

Spock leaned forward until his lips were brushing the other
man's earlobe. "Then you had better stop me," he whispered
hotly, then bit the earlobe. Hard.

He back off a couple of steps and waited for the human to
make his move. Predictably, it was a knee to the groin
which he avoided easily. Using Kirk's own momentum against
him, he spun the man around and slammed him back up against
the stone wall. He was going to be bruised and scraped, but
that Spock didn't care.

Kirk stopped struggling when he realized that he had
nowhere to go, no way to get loose. "I'll have you court-
martialed. Then I'll have you gelded. And *then*, if you're
lucky, I'll have you killed."

Spock laughed. "Once I'm done with you, you won't want
anything else but to be in my bed, flat on your stomach
with your legs spread as wide as you can manage." The
curses that answered that statement were unusually creative
for the man. Spock ignored them.

Using his body to keep the man pinned, Spock reached behind
him, under his cloak, and drew his dress dagger. The weapon
was gilded and jeweled, as befit the first officer of the
Empire's flagship, but the blade was from the finest forge
on Vulcan and kept razor-sharp.

Kirk might be crude and unsophisticated, like most humans,
but he wasn't entirely stupid. When the blade touched his
neck he froze. Spock smiled his approval and stepped back
slightly. He kept one hand to the back of Kirk's head,
holding him in place as he slid the knife blade under the
collar of the man's dress uniform.

The heavy fabric parted as easily as gauze as he moved the
blade down the human's back until the tunic fell open,
exposing an expanse of lightly bronzed skin. That skin was
flushed, highlighting the crisscross pattern of scars.
Spock wasn't surprised at the sight: A man as arrogant as
Kirk would not have made it through the Academy without
being flogged at least once.

Spock tucked the dagger back in its sheath for the moment,
although he didn't release the man's head. He ran his other
hand up the man's back, delicately tracing the faint scars.
Then he pushed the pieces of the tunic off Kirk's
shoulders. One eyebrow went up though when Kirk shook his
arms slightly so that the fabric slipped off his arms
completely, leaving him bare from the waist up.

Spock forward and ran his tongue up the man's neck,
enjoying the salty taste and the way it made the man
shudder. "Are you going to fight me?" he asked, his voice
gone deep and husky.

"Would it do me any good?" Kirk asked in a remarkable
steady voice.

"No."

"Would you enjoy it?"

"Very much," Spock said with a smile.

"Then no."

That surrender was almost as pleasurable to Spock as the
Fight would have been. He stepped back, releasing Kirk
completely, although he carefully made sure he was between
the man and the mouth of the alley. "Drop your pants," he
ordered. Kirk hesitated. "Or would you prefer that I cut
them from you as well?"

Not moving away from the stone wall, Kirk reached down and
unfastened his trousers, then pushed them down over his
hips, revealing that he was wearing nothing underneath
them. Then he stood there, waiting.

Spock admired the man's well-shaped ass for a moment, then
reached for the tube he'd slipped into his pocket earlier.
Then he lifted his own tunic and opened his trousers just
enough to release his cock, hard and flushed a deep emerald
from anticipation, but otherwise left his clothing in
place. "Put your hands on the wall and spread your legs,"
he ordered.

Kirk obeyed immediately, even though he was hobbled by his
trousers around his ankles. Spock gloried in the glow of
triumph. The fight, even though strangely brief, was over
and it was time to take what he wanted.

He stepped forward and pressed the end of the tube against
Kirk's anus and pressed the release button. Kirk gasped as
the cold lubricant flooded his rectal passage, but didn't
move. Then he discarded the tube and positioned himself and
thrust his cock into Kirk on one fast thrust, sparking an
involuntary cry from the man. He didn't worry that he'd
hurt him, even if humans were more fragile than Vulcans;
Although Kirk was remarkably tight for someone as
experienced as he was, the lubricant used would prevent any
injury. Certainly, Spock had no real desire to damage him.

He waited a moment for Kirk to relax around him, then
started to thrust, settling an insistent pace. Kirk gasped
with each push, accompanied by a yelp each time that Spock
changed his angle to hit the man's prostate gland. He
didn't miss the fact that the man's hips were moving,
pushing back to meet each thrust.

The reaction was even better than Spock had hoped for. He
decided to reward Kirk's cooperation and reached around to
take the man's erection in hand. As he'd noted earlier,
Kirk's cock was a little smaller than the human average --
and much smaller than the Vulcan average -- but that did
not matter. He manipulated it expertly, using his other
hand to pinch the man's hard nipples, until Kirk was
writhing, caught between hot hands and a hotter cock. Then
Kirk's head fell back and he let loose a cry as his climax
splattered the wall with pearly fluid.

Reacting to the sudden clenching around his own flesh,
Spock sank his teeth into the man's neck, drawing blood,
and pumped his own fluid deep into Kirk's bowels, branding
him inside and out.

Spock slumped against Kirk, pushing him even harder against
the stone wall, breathing heavily. Kirk didn't complain.

Finally he pulled away. He tucked himself back into his
trousers and straightened his clothing. "You can move now,"
he said.

Kirk pulled up his pants first, covering as best he could.
Then he grabbed the remains of his tunic, a shimmer of gold
in his hands, and turned around. His face was a blank mask.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Spock waited
for the inevitable explosion, but when it came it was pure
ice. He was actually impressed. "You're a dead man, Spock.
Once we get back to the ship--"

"You'll do nothing," Spock said.

"And how do you figure that?" The man's tone dripped with
disdain.

Spock stepped forward and was pleased to see the human take
an equal step back, resulting in his back being pressed
against the brick. The bite-mark on his neck was still
oozing blood and Spock's mouth watered at the sight.
"Because I'm not finished with you."

Moving too quickly for Kirk to react, he pinned the man yet
again, not giving the man the chance to try to fight back
this time. He grabbed Kirk's wrists and drew them up over
his head where they could be held in a one-handed grip. The
other hand he moved to Kirk's face, setting his fingers
against the pressure points. "I told you, this is a time of
claiming," he said. "My mind to your mind," he whispered,
pressing forward with all the mental training that a son of
the house of Surak received.

Untrained, Kirk's shields were impressive, but they were
little barrier to Spock. He tore through them as if they
were tissue paper. He could hear the man scream silently as
he forced himself into every corner, forging ties that
could only death could break. He could taste the man's
fear, pain...

Triumph?

Once he was satisfied that nothing was going to break the
ties he'd used to bind the human to him, he withdrew until
only a single tether remained. Kirk was firmly embedded in
his mind. Even the priests of Gol wouldn't be able break
that.

"You are mine now," he said, stepping back.

"Are you so sure of that?" Kirk said, no anger left that he
could feel. Just that strange pleased feeling that still
puzzled him.

"Yes, I am." He exerted a little effort and sent a wave of
pure sexual feeling through the link. Kirk gasped and
slumped back against the wall. His eyes fell shut and he
moaned. One hand came up to rub suddenly peaked nipples.
The other moved down to the bulge in his pants.

As easily as he'd brought the man to a fever-pitch of
arousal, Spock turned it off. Kirk cursed as his erection
disappeared as quickly as it had formed. "As I said, you
are mine. If I die, so do you. Remember that in the
future."

Kirk cocked his head to the side and stared at him with an
expression that said he was thinking hard. "I am still
Captain," he said, although it was nearly a question.

"Of course. I have no wish for command."

"So what, you plan on following me around for the rest of
my life? Forever a first officer?"

Spock smirked. "Of course not. Not unless you think you
will be satisfied with a mere captaincy for that length of
time."

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "So, you want to be a king-maker, do
you. The power behind a Captain, an Admiral, perhaps more?
Pulling the strings and directing my actions?" Spock stayed
silent. "We'll see about that." Again that feeling of
triumph, making Spock wonder just how ignorant Kirk really
*was* about Vulcan.

He decided to leave that question for later. At the moment,
events had turned out exactly as he planned.

He pulled out his communicator, then tossed his cloak at
Kirk. "Cover yourself, unless you want to be seen like
that." Kirk slung the cloak over his shoulders and Spock
nodded his approval before opening the handheld device.
"Spock to Enterprise. Two to beam up."

>>>~~~<<<

Kirk woke with a groan and stretched carefully. He ached
all over, especially his ass and the still-throbbing bite
on his shoulder. He hadn't been this well-fucked in...

Actually, he couldn't remember *ever* being this well-
fucked.

He chuckled and rolled over on his side, the most
comfortable position he could find. Who would have guessed
that under that cool Vulcan exterior lurked an insatiable
sex-field. After the initial fuck in the alleyway -- damn,
that had pushed his buttons -- and the forced mind-meld,
they'd beamed back up to the ship and Spock had practically
dragged him back to his quarters. The last of his clothing
had been torn from him and used to tie him to the bed. Then
Spock had let lose with a hunger that Kirk had never even
*hoped* for in his wildest dreams. For the first time in
his life, he'd actually been fucked unconscious.

And that was just a bonus. Finally, *finally* the itch he'd
felt in the back of his mind since their encounter with the
alternate universe and his own encounter with *their*
Spock was gone, telling him that his quiet research into
Vulcan history had been right on the money. Vulcans rarely
bonded anymore, but his and Spock's counterparts had been,
and it had... spilled over.

Of course, it also had the benefit of protecting him, since
he'd returned to his own ship to find Marlena dead and the
Tantalus device missing. Only one person could have done
that, and Spock was now permanently tied to him.

As for Chancellor Sarek, if he hadn't missed one listening
device, Kirk wouldn't have know to fall for Spock's little
trap. He'd be damned if he was going to lose his first
officer to some Vulcan bitch.

Who could have known that the Chancellor could be so
careless?
 

END CIRCLES WITHIN CIRCLES