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There was something different about Spock’s play, though Captain Kirk couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The way Spock played chess was usually very regular, not that he used exactly the same gambits, but he had a characteristic approach. And now, suddenly, something had changed.
It didn’t seem like anything was wrong. Spock didn’t look particularly nervous or distracted. His demeanor was just as it ever was when they found the time to meet in Jim’s quarters for a game of chess. He looked relaxed in his own way, watching Jim with a vaguely amused expression, one eyebrow raised.
“It is your turn,” Spock said, interrupting Jim’s train of thought.
Jim startled into full awareness and forced his attention back onto the board.
Spock’s play had gotten trickier, maybe that was it. Jim had gone from one difficult position to another, only so many ways to move, and none of them particularly good. It was like Spock was trying to win by limiting Jim’s options. Well, if that was how he was going to play…
Almost on a whim, Jim advanced a pawn.
Spock moved again. Again nothing good. His new style seemed to be effective, at least.
Jim advanced the pawn again.
A frown seemed to ghost across Spock’s face. Jim wondered why - it wasn’t like he had succeeded at putting much pressure on him. Spock certainly had the upper hand, and Jim had expected him to look rather pleased with himself.
A few more turns and the pawn had managed to advance into Spock’s ranks. It was impressive that a little pawn had managed to make it so far with minimal support from its stronger brethren. Jim smiled a little at the thought.
Spock seemed to disagree. The corners of his lips took a definitive downward turn, but his expression soon righted itself.
Jim barely had a chance to wonder why. In only three more turns, the game was over, and Spock was victorious.
All Jim could do was congratulate him on his victory; it was very well played. And after that they had their duty to return to. The game of chess seemed to go forgotten; Spock’s momentarily irritation had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
However, Jim could not get the game out of his mind. Spock had never, in all the times they’d played chess together, ended a game like that. Spock usually drew out the game so much that Jim had wondered on several occasions whether Spock didn’t do it on purpose. He never played so quickly or aggressively. And, as annoying as Jim’s play may have been, he couldn’t imagine why it had irritated Spock so much.
When something about Spock didn’t make sense, it was usually a Vulcan thing that Spock had conveniently neglected to mention.
It was in fact a Vulcan thing. Jim had to dig through half the cultural documents on the computer before he found the writings of an early xenoanthropologist who explained that the Vulcans apparently liked chess so much they had built a whole language around it. Each gambit meant a different thing. It didn’t translate easily, but Jim could get a sense of it.
By the time he invited Spock to his quarters to play another game of chess, he had memorized as many of the meanings of various gambits as he could, and had a few particular ones in mind he wanted to try. Thankfully, the simpler ones were fairly intuitive. Spock’s previous incisive play was probably a retort, if Jim understood it right, and Jim suspected that the move he had made beforehand was some sort of insult.
The other changes to Spock’s play were more complicated. From what Jim had read, they were probably tests, the chess equivalent of questions, but Jim couldn’t have said what Spock was asking. There was a lot going on, each piece had its own meaning, and none of the translations were very clear.
To Jim’s surprise, as Spock sat down across from him, on the other side of the board, he said, “My apologies for ending our previous match so abruptly.”
Jim waved it off with a grin. “You played well, very logical.”
The corners of Spock’s mouth turned upward just barely and he looked rather pleased with himself.
“So, shall we?” Jim asked.
They set up the board and then the game began.
First, Jim owed Spock an apology.
It was strange playing so cautiously. To make it a true apology he could only rely on his pawns, which had to be readily sacrificed. Several times he had to stop himself from taking advantage of some opening that he usually would have pounced on. A few of them looked like they may have been tests, but Jim didn’t know what Spock was asking and he was too busy trying to keep to the apologetic strategy to try and answer. Each time Jim refused an opening, Spock quirked an eyebrow at him in confusion.
Meanwhile, Spock’s play was as meticulous as ever. He started with a strong defense - that at least hadn’t changed for as long as they had been playing. Unlike Jim, he brought out his strong pieces early in what Vulcans apparently considered a show of respect for his opponent. He remained on his side of the board to reflect their professional relationship and took pieces slowly like a true pacifist, even as Jim willingly sacrificed them. Occasionally he even imitated Jim’s moves in a show of loyalty.
Instead of mounting an attack, Spock focused on maneuvering into place, which he took his time in doing. Jim had long suspected Spock played so slowly because he wanted to spend more time together, and the record Jim had found of Vulcan chess philosophy supported his hunch.
After Jim refused another opening, Spock presented his queen with a quirk of his eyebrow.
It was another test. Spock had purposefully put Jim in a position to take his queen in exchange for a pawn. Jim could see Spock’s other pieces in place to ensure that the blow would hardly be a fatal one, but it still would have helped Jim far more than it helped Spock. Jim wasn’t sure what he would have done if this was a normal game. If he hadn’t known about the Vulcan chess language, he probably would have assumed it was a trap.
But Jim still had an apology to make. So, in spite of everything he had ever learned about chess, he moved the piece that was protecting his pawn away, so that the queen could attack safely.
Spock’s eyes widened in surprise at Jim’s move. He stared at the board like he was trying to evaluate whether there was any possibility that the move had been a strategic one. Finally, he looked back up at Jim and met his eyes with a curious expression.
Then Spock took the pawn, accepting Jim’s apology.
A Vulcan who had been playing chess and using it to communicate their whole life may have been able to win the game while delivering a flawless apology. The record of Vulcan chess customs that Jim had found even noted that though most apologetic play was done with the pawns, defeating an opponent using only pawns was a terrible insult. For a true apology, the checkmate needed to be done with a more powerful piece, preferably at a distance, and ideally the queen to indicate respect.
Jim, however, was not accustomed to such a restricted style of play. As much as he tried to turn the game around after he had successfully delivered his apology, Spock had already gotten too much of an upper hand. Jim lost, to say the least.
But they were hardly ever content to end after one game when they had the time, especially since Jim had lost at a disadvantage. He was ready to prove that he could play by Vulcan rules and still win the game. So, they reset the board.
Jim didn’t have any other particular gambits planned, so he played passively, arranging his pieces and waiting for an opening to present itself. It was a far cry from his usual, more reckless approach, but it was what Vulcans considered to be a sophisticated strategy that indicated the player’s restraint and civility. And he wanted to see what Spock was doing now that he could translate it.
It turned out that the biggest change Spock had made was the addition of several test plays. He would present Jim with a particular arrangement of pieces and then lean back and watch how Jim responded.
Jim could see how he would have normally dealt with the formations, but he didn’t know what they were asking. The queen had clearly been a test of his apology, but these could have been anything, and he had no idea how his response would have been interpreted. He had insulted Spock in the first place by saying something he hadn’t meant to. So, Jim remained passive and restrained as his pieces made the slow and steady march into formation.
“Fascinating,” Spock remarked as each of Jim’s non-answers unfolded, his expression unreadable.
Spock drew the game out, but again he won easily.
The next time they played, Jim came prepared. As Spock began to position his pieces, Jim prepared a solid defense. He brought out his strong pieces early and arranged them firmly around the king in a powerful formation. It was the strongest defense he could muster - a sign of utmost respect.
His formation complete, Jim looked up at Spock with a grin.
Spock’s eyes were wide in barely concealed astonishment. He glanced between Jim and the board, and then again, as though to confirm that his eyes had not deceived him.
Spock slowly moved his own pieces to mirror Jim’s formation. Had Jim not known any better, he would have almost thought he saw Spock’s hand shake a little.
When Spock’s defense was complete he finally looked Jim in the eye. An uncertain smile teased at the corners of his lips.
Then, they advanced in turn. Spock tested Jim’s defense, tried to draw away pieces with tempting pawns that would have been so easy to take, but he kept it strong. Only when Spock challenged him with his queen did Jim’s steady offensive march begin.
But by then it was too late. Spock was already in position to take his king.
They greeted each other with a respectful defense.
Jim flashed Spock a mischievous grin - he had bigger plans. He had learned as many test gambits as he could in what little free time he’d had since they’d last played. He wasn’t ready to try anything too complicated, but tests of skill and character were simple enough.
The classic test was of course the test of logic. It wasn’t too different from some human gambits that were meant to trip up one’s opponent.
Jim arranged his pieces and leaned back with a grin to let Spock answer. Such a trap may have caught an inexperienced player, but they both knew Spock would solve it easily.
Sure enough, he quirked an eyebrow at Jim and answered accordingly.
Then, Spock responded with a test of his own - a risky bait that could only have been a test of bravery.
Jim took it and claimed the advantage.
Then, he moved his queen and invited Spock to follow. Show me your loyalty.
Spock obliged, as he always did.
Then, he threatened one of Jim’s pawns - a test of his leadership.
Jim rescued the pawn and challenged with another. Show me your restraint.
Spock maneuvered around it gracefully.
Back and forth they danced across the board, showing off in turn. Their eyes met and neither could quite tear them away. Though they were just sitting there, looking at each other across the table, Jim could feel his heart beating a little fast and loud.
Jim took Spock’s queen and pressured his king. Show me how steadfast you are.
Spock defended his king and surrounded Jim’s - as always from a professional distance.
Jim was cornered, with no obvious avenues of escape. It was similar to a test of innovation or a difficult test of logic, but it wasn’t quite like any of the other tests he had seen in the record. And then there was the way Spock was looking at him, with a meaningful expression that said this was a test of his own design, something not altogether Vulcan - a test of intuition.
Jim grinned and Spock looked rather pleased with himself.
Jim forced himself to focus on the board. Spock hadn’t come up with an easy test. It spelled checkmate no matter which way he turned. Jim maneuvered out of one tight spot and into another, Spock always one step ahead. He could have made a thousand excuses, but the fact of the matter was that he had been outplayed again. He could not have asked for a better opponent.
Contrary to what Bones would have said, and probably most humans with him, Vulcans did not always sit perfectly upright, their expressions unreadably straight. Spock, at least, expressed as much through body language as any human; you just had to know what to look for. So, when Spock sat down across from him, his back rigid, and stony faced, Jim knew immediately something was up. Of course, he knew better than to ask.
They set up the board in silence and Jim began to move his pieces into place, prepared to wait it out and see what had Spock so nervous. It didn’t take long. In only a few moves Spock maneuvered his pawns aside and brought out his queen. Instead of setting up a strong, respectful defense as he usually did, he deliberately crossed to Jim’s side of the board in a clear challenge.
It wasn’t just any challenge, though. It was an invitation. Spock had broken the professional distance between them, if barely, and invited Jim to do the same. Spock quirked an eyebrow at him to accentuate the question - what am I to you?
It was difficult not to impose a human interpretation onto the question that had made Spock so nervous. Jim recognized the maneuver from the record he had found as a rather cautious invitation for friendship. He had considered using something like it, but had decided he didn’t need to. They were already more than just colleagues, and so he had gone straight to playing as much on Spock’s side of the board as his own. However, he had been wondering for a while whether Spock would make such a move.
Jim eagerly paralleled Spock’s queen with his own. He didn’t miss how Spock mirrored his pawns as he moved them aside, out of the way of the queen, in a show of loyalty.
Spock’s usual regimented defense gradually gave way to something just as strong - just as respectful - but more open, and Jim opened up his defense in turn. Spock’s pieces drew ever closer, gradually closing the distance between them. To a Vulcan it would have read as a nearing of minds, and sure enough Spock’s questions became more personal, more intimate. To Jim, it seemed to evoke a different kind of proximity.
He teased, maneuvering his pieces deep into Spock’s ranks, and then drawing them out again before Spock had a chance to take them, like a fleeting touch. He drew close to the king and almost fancied he could feel Spock’s pulse in his fingertips, though he knew it was only his own heart racing at the thought. And then he withdrew and the piece flitted away across the board.
Spock answered with a quirked eyebrow and a trace of a smile, and brought his queen another step closer to Jim’s king.
When Jim moved his king out of the way, Spock mirrored it, echoing Jim’s mind with his own.
Spock was only a few moves away from winning.
Jim moved his queen all the way across the board, until it was up against Spock’s king. “Checkmate,” he declared, his voice nearly a whisper.
A green blush spread across Spock’s cheeks and Jim called it a victory.
Do you trust me? Spock created an opening in his defense that could have been an easy trap.
But Jim had no other answer. He sent his queen forward and let Spock’s pieces surround it.
Spock mirrored him just as willingly. They were equally at the other’s mercy now, both poised to take key pieces either way.
But instead of attacking, Spock presented his king for Jim to take, just one square away from his queen. There was only one meaning such a gesture could hold.
My mind is yours.