Chapter 1 – Pilot
A/N
I'm at it again! I came up with some characters and I really wanted to use them, so i mixed them all together and stuck them in a Starship. I hope you enjoy this. Again, I'm still fairly new to the fandom/languages so please forgive any mistakes. Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter and the characters so I can tell if I should bother posting the next chapter. ;)
I have 10 chapters planned out so this should be completed in a couple of months. Until then, keep sending your encouragement, and nag me like hell until it';s done.
Lots of love,
Mirelle. 3
"Although a very terrible and sad event had to occur for this to be possible, it does give me great pleasure to announce the promotion of Commander Lieutenant Staark of the U.S.S. Resolute to the rank of Captain, and to give to him command of the U.S.S. Sagittaire."
There was thunderous applause and Staark bowed to the crowd. His father was amongst them somewhere, as was the ambassador for his planet. It was his Terran quarter that swelled with pride. He knew that protocol said he should relieve the old Captain, but since that man was dead, it was unnecessary. It seemed like most of the room was having the same thought as him, as the applause dimmed and hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to look at the large photograph of the late Captain Baines. It was illogical to be sad for the death when there were so many things to be celebrated in the Universe and a mission at hand. Everyone in attendance knew that Staark was the best man for the job, with his heritage and skills, as well as his rapport with the Romulans.
Staark made eye-contact with a young man in the crowd, his eye colour the only indicator that his genetic composition was not Terran. Those eyes startled Staark and it took him a few moments to be able to tear himself away. When he did, his eyes fell on his father's beaming face.
Staark did not approve of the behaviour of Terrans when they had been consuming alcohol – it was embarrassing and unpleasant - so he had been apprehensive of this get-together of Starfleet officials and his new crew. However, in the presence of such important people, they were keeping themselves in check and Staark found that he was actually enjoying himself. It was not too late in the evening when his father found him to congratulate him.
"Staark, my sincerest congratulations."
"Thank you, father," Staark replied, sweeping his dark hair from in front of his eyes. His mother had often implored him to cut it, but he liked it to his chin. It covered his ears, which made it much easier to negotiate with pre-warp people, xenophobes and those who had not seen a Vulcan before. Aside from that, he liked how sharp it made his features look.
"Your mother would be very proud of you," his father continued, gently. Staark supressed a wave of anger.
"Must you talk about her as though she is expired?" he asked, softly. "She undergoes Kolinahr, not death."
"I am sorry, Staark. You know how I feel about Kolinahr." Staark nodded and took a sip of his drink. It was true that his half-Terran father favoured his Terran side and had often preached to his son the benefits of succumbing to emotions. Usually, Staark could not help but agree. Fear had made his senses sharp during battle and good humour had buoyed him during illness. Pride had pushed him to become the best in his class at the Academy. But he loved his Vulcan mother, who had decided her vocation could be better served if she purged all emotion. Staark felt disdain towards his father for his disgust towards this practice. But it was his father who had suggested he apply to Starfleet instead of becoming a Vulcan scientist so he had a lot to thank him for.
When his mind returned to the present, he noticed that his father had brought over one of his friends – none other than Ambassador Sarek. Sarek greeted Staark with the Vulcan salute.
"Dif-tor heh smusma Staark."
"Sochya heh difan'es, Sarek," Staark replied, returning the gesture. His Vulcan was rusty and he was unsure if the phrase was correct, after speaking only English and Klingon for so long. Sarek only bowed his head in response, so Staark's nerves settled. They had a brief conversation in Vulcan, Sarek congratulating the new Captain and pleasantries being exchanged. Staark found out that Sarek's son had been assigned to the new ship, Enterprise, as first officer under a fresh graduate called Kirk, who had somehow managed to become a Captain after just a few months at a lower rank. It was nice to settle into his mother tongue after so long. For Staark, it was a similar feeling to removing his shoes after a long, hard-working day.
It wasn't long before they were interrupted.
"Excuse me," a small, high voice called, a finger tapping Staark on the back. Staark stopped mid-sentence and turned. The pair of mismatched non-Terran eyes at Staark's chin-level blinked widely, one vivid blue and one lavender. The boy to whom they belonged was biting his lip, smiling and peering up through thick blond eyelashes. "Sorry to bother you sir," the boy continued, "But I thought it would be appropriate for me to introduce myself."
"Tobeg-tor odular etek ha?" Staark asked. Both men nodded so Staark gestured for the boy to follow him to the bar. He ordered another drink then turned to the non-Terran.
"I am Staark, son of Sorik," Staark began, taking a mouthful of his fresh drink. It was champagne, sweet and bubbly with the slight burn of alcohol.
"Yes, sir, I know," the boy interrupted, a grin remaining fixed on his face. "My name is Eli Decker. I'm the first officer of the Sagittaire and head of security on board."
Staark frowned. This youthful, short person was a first officer? To even be head of security was a surprise, but first officer?
"Are you not very young to be a first officer?" Staark asked, delicately. The boy gave a high chuckle and shook his head. His white-blond curls bounced about his face.
"I don't think so, sir. I'm twenty-four and I worked very hard to get to where I am. I'm stronger than I look." As though to prove a point, he downed his glass of champagne in one gulp and licked his plump lips.
"Forgive me. As I am sure you are aware, Mr Decker, your appearance is deceptively youthful." Staark inclined his head. The first officer laughed again. Staark continued, "If you are first officer then why did you not receive the promotion that was today bestowed upon me?"
"I did have to command the ship for a few days, on the way back to Earth," the young man shrugged, "But it didn't suit me. The Captain of a starship's stiff and formal and commanding and I'm none of those." He winked at Staark, who felt a twinge of offence. He wasn't stiff and formal, was he? His slanted brows lowered in a frown. Mr Decker licked his lips again as Staark looked over his head. His father and Ambassador Sarek were speaking with a familiar-looking Vulcan and he was aching to go over and see who it was. Instead, wary of being rude, he returned to his conversation with the young first officer.
"Your eyes are most unusual," he pointed out. "Of which race are your parents?"
For the first time, the young man looked uncomfortable, as though he had forgotten that he looked different from everyone else. "My father is a human, sir, a scientist working for Starfleet-"
Staark interjected, a little harshly, "Those of us capable of thought and imagination and compassion are all human, are we not?" Decker looked startled. He blushed slightly and nodded.
"Of course, sir. What I mean to say is my dad is Terran. Born and raised in San-Fran, actually. I'm not sure who my mother is, since he won't speak about her. She returned to her world after she had me and he never heard from her again. He married an Earth woman later but he's never been quite right."
"That must have been difficult," Staark sympathised, glancing towards the party of Vulcans again.
"What was your specialty before you got to be a Captain?" Decker asked, obviously keen to change the subject.
"Xenolinguistics," Staark replied, "I speak every Terran language as well as all other Federation-recognised languages, in addition to a few hundred extras which I taught myself out of interest." He was not boasting, simply stating the facts. However, the first officer's strange eyes widened again before his face split into another huge grin. The Captain could not decide if it was refreshing or irritating that the boy could not keep a straight face. It was certainly different from what he was used to.
"That's impressive," Decker exclaimed.
"I am pleased to have your approval, Commander," Staark responded, with just a hint of sarcasm. The boy's face fell slightly.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, sir," he shrugged. "I hope we'll enjoy working together."
"Live long and prosper," Staark nodded, automatically. Decker grinned again.
Staark hurried back over to the small group of Vulcans. They were speaking in English now as, Staark realised on arrival, the third member of the party was Sarek's son, who spent a vast majority of his time communicating in the Federation Standard language. Staark could not stop a rare smile sliding onto his face at the sight of the Vulcan, who was only a few years younger than himself.
"Staark!" Sarek's son exclaimed, also smiling. "Please accept my congratulations of your promotion. In my opinion it was long overdue."
"Thank you, Spock," replied Staark, bowing his head towards his old friend. "Sarek told me you are assigned as first officer on the Enterprise, which is also a commendable position. The Enterprise is a beautiful ship."
Spock's face crinkled as he tried to understand. "Beautiful? What do you mean by that?"
Staark blushed slightly. "Sorik worked as an engineer for some years, so I grew to appreciate the appearance and intricacies of space vehicles. By beautiful, I mean she is a powerful ship with pleasing aesthetic qualities, from an engineering point of view."
"Thank you for clarifying," Spock responded, "I am certain you are correct, although my expertise lies in programming rather than physical machinery."
"Was that a compliment?" Staark teased.
"It was an acknowledgement of my trust in your judgement," replied Spock, though the corner of his mouth was turned up and one eyebrow was raised.
"Excuse us," said Staark's father gracefully. The young men saluted the older men then Staark and Spock were alone. Spock took a step towards the Captain. Whether this movement was conscious or not, Staark did not know, but he was not one to complain.
"Who was the boy with whom you were speaking?" Spock asked, softly.
"His name is Decker and he is to be my first officer. His age is, surprisingly, twenty-four." Decker's odd eyes flashed into Staark's mind. He disliked that he could not shake the feeling of anxiety that flooded into his stomach when he thought of him.
A sudden electric tingle in his hand jolted him back to reality. He gave an audible gasp at the feeling as he realised Spock was gently rubbing his fingers. When his eyes snapped back to Spock's face, the younger man dropped his hand guiltily.
"Please, Spock, there are people here," Staark whispered.
"I am sorry. I lost my self-control for a moment when you drifted away."
"Keep yourself in check. I am leaving for the far reaches of the universe tomorrow. We cannot go through this yet again."
"My apologies, my friend. I hope your mission will run smoothly. Live long and prosper." Spock gave the Vulcan salute and started to walk away, but Staark caught him by the hand and stopped him.
"Peace and long life, Spock," he said, gently. They each held on to the other's hand for a few moments more before parting. Staark watched Spock disappear into the crowd and sighed heavily.
An Earth saying popped into his head and he smiled ruefully.
There goes the one that got away.
After having met the most important members of his new crew – Lt. C. Eli Decker, the first officer; Lt. C. Electra Norman, the chief engineer; the navigation expert, ensign Yuu Matsumoto; the communications expert, Lt. Jordan Karling; and the chief medical officer, Lt. C. Derek Easterly – Staark decided to retire for the evening. He bid goodnight to his company and departed for his quarters.
He undressed and pulled his blankets about himself and tried not to think. His mind filled itself with bright-blue-and-lavender images, tingling hands and tongues running over lips. His stomach turned over and over but eventually he fell asleep.
He woke to the sound of the door opening. Had he not been Vulcan, the sound would not have stirred him from his deep sleep. His eyes snapped open but could hardly make out the shape in the doorway as the room was pitch black. He felt for the light switch but he could not find it.
"If you are attempting to attack me, be warned that I can perform a nerve pinch and disable you in seconds."
The figure gave a familiar high-pitched laugh. Staark breathed out. It was the first officer.
"Lights," Staark sighed. The lights came on, illuminating the face of the young man. He looked nervous but his mismatched eyes shone. "Decker, I could have you fired for being in my quarters without my permission."
Decker shuffled forwards into the room. "Please, sir, call me Eli. I know this seems like a bizarre intrusion but it's the only chance I'll get. Lights." The lights fell again and Staark stiffened. He sat up, ready to render the boy unconscious if he attacked. However, there was that small, nagging curiosity in the back of his mind, the same one that caused him to want to explore the universe, which made him sit still and observe the young man. He was making his way towards the bed, agile like a cat despite the debilitating darkness. Staark felt the bad sink as the short man knelt on it, leaning across the bed towards the Vulcan.
"Please forgive me, but I can't resist," whispered Eli.
"Why? What are you-" He was cut off, because the young first officer was kissing him. Staark's mind exploded and he melted into it, slipping one hand into a white cloud of curls to pull the young man closer. It was a few long seconds before he got his mind back long enough to be astounded. He pushed the boy away and stared at him. His expression was strange. His eyes were half closed and his mouth half open, his cheeks flushed and his eyebrows slanted upwards in a worried frown. He would not take his gaze from Staark's mouth. Staark's mind whirred through a fog of sleep and lust and annoyance and stress and eventually came up with the Vulcan equivalent of "screw it". He grabbed Decker by the chin and told him, sternly, "Just this one time. Only once. When we get onto the ship, I am your Captain and you are my subordinate. Do you understand?" The young man nodded silently. "Yes, Captain," Staark prompted him.
"Yes, Captain," Eli repeated, his voice hoarse. Staark breathed out heavily against his mouth as he let his animal instincts flood his brain. He pushed his tongue into the irritating young man's mouth and pulled at his t-shirt so that he would come closer. Now that Eli had his knees on either side of Staark's hips, their faces were level and Staark could slide his hand around the boy's neck. Their lips moved feverishly as their breath mingled, the Terran's feeling cool to the Vulcan, and they clawed at each other's clothes. It was not long before the clothes in question were discarded on the floor. They were rubbing together in a delicious way and Staark could not stop a throaty moan escaping when Decker scratched along his hip bones.
"Harder," he breathed. Decker obeyed with a dark "yes, sir". Staark was sure he was drawing blood and his head was spinning with a power rush. He pushed against the young man's shoulders and flattened him against the bed, whilst biting down on his neck. Eli gave a high-pitched cry and pushed his hips up. He bit Staark's lower lip, dragging his nails over his abdomen. Staark's back arched as he sat back on his heels, taking a moment to consider the situation. After just a few seconds, he turned around to face away from the first officer.
"What are you doing?" whispered Decker.
"I am much stronger than you. If I do it, I will hurt you," Staark explained.
"Okay." Decker crawled to him and wrapped his arms around the Captain's waist.
Staark braced himself and, for a reason he could not fathom, pictured Spock's face as he had been when he had seen Staark for the first time that evening.
A couple of hours later, Staark was climbing out of the shower. He dried himself and pulled on his uniform – a wrap-around gold top with black trousers – before gently waking Decker.
"Decker, wake up. You need to report to me on the Sagittaire in forty minutes."
"Call me Eli," the young man murmured, rolling over to go back to sleep.
"Eli, get out of my bed and return to your quarters," Staark snapped, in his most authoritative voice. The boy sighed and pushed the sheets off himself. His mismatched eyes were half-shut in a groggy state of sleepiness. Staark passed him his clothes and gestured towards the door. The younger man shuffled out meekly, grinning drowsily.
"Cheers for this," he smiled, "I'm sorry for barging in and everything."
"Let us forget this event, for I am as much at fault as you are now."
"Ok Captain." With that, he left.
Staark let out a long, weary breath. The Vulcan equivalent of "God, what the hell did I do?" passed through his mind. That boy would have something to hold over his head for the rest of his career, but he had not been thinking of that when it happened. If he was honest with himself, he needed the release Decker had offered him. The level of stress had decreased and he was sure he would be able to command effectively now. It was with a clear head and a sore body that he hurried to the transporter room.
"Captain Staark," the engineer exclaimed, "You're earlier than we expected-"
"Beam me aboard," Staark commanded.
"Right away, sir!"
Staark stepped into the transporter and relished the familiar feeling of being beamed. As his feet hit solid again, he knew he was on his new ship, the Sagittaire. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, causing him to march rapidly to the bridge. He was desperate to reach it, to see his chair and meet the rest of the bridge crew.
"Bridge," he told the turbolift. It took only seconds to reach the bridge. As Staark walked into the room that would be his centre of control for the next few years, the crew members stopped what they were doing and gathered around him.
"My warm greetings to you all. Most of you will know that I am Captain Staark, and I hope that we will succeed in our mission." There was a smattering of applause. "Please have all crew members meet me in the briefing room in twenty minutes," he continued, directing this instruction to Karling. Karling nodded and obeyed.
Staark sat down in the Captain's chair, sinking in to the delicately supportive cushions, flexing his fingers as they wrapped around the arms. He pushed the tips of his toes against the floor and made the chair spin slightly. He felt like he was home.
"Sir," one of the crew members, the Japanese helmsman Matsumoto, interrupted, "This ZX9100-J. He is android crew member who will be serve as your science officer."
Staark looked up. The android had coffee-coloured synthetic-yet-realistic skin, plump lips, high cheeks and feminine features. His dark hair flowed down to his elbows. He looked, for all the world, like a woman, aside from the absence of breasts. It was unnerving.
"It's nice to meet you, sir," the android said, bowing, "Please call me Joey. It's the name my creator gave me."
"It is useful to have a non-human on the bridge," Staark nodded, "So I am glad to meet you, Commander."
"I'm afraid I'll be a disappointment to you if you want non-humans, sir," Joey admitted, inclining his head. "My creator built me with the intention of simulating human emotions, processes and thoughts. The only difference between me and any other crew member is my faster brain."
"I'm sure we'll find a use for it," Staark reassured him, with a rare, though slightly insincere, smile.
There was a commotion at the door as the first officer arrived.
"Sorry, sir, I overslept," he panted. Staark swivelled round in his chair and assembled a meaningful expression on his face.
"Just make sure it does not happen again, Commander."
"Yes, Captain." Decker sat down in his chair beside the Captain, as Staark stood up to head to the briefing room. "Where are you goin'?" exclaimed Decker, sounding panicked.
"Sir," Staark snarled, "If you must know, I am going to the briefing room to introduce myself the rest of the crew. If you want to keep your job you will follow me." Eli's eyes widened, but he grinned anyway, a genuinely happy expression. He trotted beside the Captain like a puppy. Staark couldn't help but wonder if the man was really as old as he said he was.
"Valued members of the crew of the Federation Starship U.S.S. Sagittaire, welcome to each of you. Today we embark upon a mission that is to span seven years. A mission to explore the furthest reaches of the galaxy, to boldly go where no one has gone before, to chart the stars we have never seen, to traverse unknown planets and meet alien people. We have no indications of the level of danger we may face, the hostile enemies we may find or the painful disturbances physics may cause. Some of us might never see Terra, or Vulcan, or wherever we call home, again. But we will stand by each other. We will protect each other. We will extend the hand of intergalactic friendship, tolerance and love. Our mission is to provide scientific and emotional reports about the space that we have never touched before. We know our individual tasks and we know those with whom we will be working. I have but one question to ask of you, my valued crew. Are you ready?"
The cheer that rang out through the briefing room at Staark's words was deafening. Eli felt himself squealing and clapping too, finally understanding exactly why that aloof, bizarre Vulcan had been hired for this mission. He also understood why none of the original 140 crew members had offered themselves up for transfer when Captain Baines had died, and why the just-enough crew had grown to the maximum-capacity 450 members. Eli didn't get him as a person, but he sure got him as a Captain. He knew what he was doing and he knew how to get what he wanted. Not for the last time, Eli's heart swelled with admiration and pride that he himself was the second-in-command to this impressive Vulcan.
Eli's short legs could hardly keep up with the Captain's huge, sweeping strides, so he scurried along beside him like he was running away from something. By the time they'd reached the bridge again, the young first officer was on the verge of losing his breath. Being head of security, he had to keep himself fit and, though he'd been very impressed with Staark's physique the night before, Eli knew he was the most agile and flexible member of the crew. Speed was not his strong point but if he'd been doing backflips, he'd have arrived even sooner than the swift Captain.
Once on the bridge, Eli settled into his seat beside Staark. To his delight, the Vulcan swivelled from side to side playfully, though his expression remained stony. Eli smiled to himself. There was more to their Captain than met the eye, he was sure. After all, he'd agreed to their one-night-stand. Just looking at him now, Eli would never have thought it was more than a pleasant dream, if it weren't for the bright green scratch visible on Staark's hip as his shirt rode up.
Staark was giving out instructions to the bridge crew, and the Japanese helmsman was struggling to understand. Eli was familiar with Matsumoto, who spoke fluent Klingon and Japanese, but his English was still poor. He was only a few years older than Eli and he'd got into Starfleet via connections and exceptional skill, rather than examinations.
Eli explained the instructions in Japanese, which he'd learnt as a young boy to enable himself to understand the lyrics of his favourite songs (21st century Japanese visual rock), and Matsumoto thanked him with a relieved smile.
"Why did you not just tell me to speak to him in Japanese?" Staark mumbled to his first officer.
"I didn't think you could speak it," Eli replied, smiling apologetically.
"I speak every Terran language. Do you not remember me telling you so?"
"Ah … oh yeah, sorry." Eli cringed. "Well, now you know, anyway, so no harm done." He gave his trademark cheerful grin. It had the desired effect. The Captain softened slightly and just rolled his eyes.
"Set the course for the edge of Federation space," instructed Staark.
"Yes sir, course set," the other helmsman replied, enthusiastically.
Eli watched as Staark flexed his fingers on the arms of his chair and swivelled from left to right and back again. His eyes flashed and the corners of his mouth turned up. He looked terribly excited.
"Onwards," Staark commanded in a deep, authoritative voice. Eli shivered.
The engines made a roaring sound. Every crew member sat up straight at their stations.
They leapt forwards in space, stars streaming past them at warp speed.
"Watch out, universe!" Eli called, unable to contain his excitement. Staark glared at him, but one of the crew members gave a feminine laugh. It was the android. Eli turned to grin at him and Joey winked in response.
"I sincerely hope you are going to start acting your age or I shall feel as though I am babysitting you rather than relying on you to keep my crew safe," Staark sighed.
Eli leant over and pecked his cheek. "Lighten up, Cap'n. We're on our way to making history!"
The laughter of the entire bridge crew rang around the room as Staark's face went from green-blush surprise to anger to reluctant excitement.
"Duhsu," the Captain muttered, shaking his head. The corners of his mouth were turned up in a Vulcan smile.
Next Chapter: Home Song. The crew of the Sagittaire come across a planet that's supposed to be uninhabited. However, a group of hostile, but familiar, people live there. Will they escape with their lives? You'll have to wait to find out!