Okay...So MAJOR DISCLAIMER HERE: I DID NOT WRITE THIS NOVEL/ORIGNAL CONCEPT. OKAY? OKAY. This novel was originally written in 1967 by MACK REYNOLDS.
Let me tell you, the original is interestingly written, and funny. When I found this novel at a garage sale I had to get it (bought it for a quarter too!) It just gave me a BILLION openings for Spirk play-by-play. Plus I added an OC (which you'll see in feature chapters, OMC) I edited this MAJORLY from the old book. Even made the dialogue more...2013. Trust me some of it was silly, and btw the 'bulge' scene. Was actually the writers idea... of course it wasn't chekov at all mainly sulu who kirk picked on. ANYWAYS, I'm pretty much doing what all the new Startrek Comic book series are doing by taking the new characters and rebooting old missions. Woop. AGAIN NOT MY CHARACTERS, NOT MY STORY ORIGINALLY IN ANYWAY. Although this is highly edited and all that jazz.
You will ALSO see that almost every other Chapter will not be getting this warning, Why? Cause ALL even chapters in this Fic, are 100% mine.
Anyways, please Review and let me know your thoughts you can even add your two-cents on how I should develop them. Please and thanks!
Also: this is totally un-beta'd anyone interested just tell me. Please excuse any grammar/ spelling mistakes, and unless you spot anything that REALLY is bad. Shut up, I don't want to hear about it.
The Mission to Horatius
Chapter 1: Secret Mission
Dr. Leonard McCoy, the senior ship's CMO of the U.S.S Enterprise, stormed from the turbo-lift elevator which opened onto the bridge and glared about. The scene, of course, couldn't have been more typical.
The Captain sat musing in his command chair, facing the large bridge viewing screen. Directly in front of him, also facing the screen, sat the navigator Ensign Chekov and helmsman Sulu. In the outer circular elevation behind them various crewmen and ships officers stood or sat before their control panels. Immediately to the doctor's right was Communications officer Uhura, her trim eyebrows a bit high at his precipitate entry.
Immediately across from the lift and behind the captain, Commander Spock, sat at his library computer station, also looking mildly surprised at the doctors obviously upset condition; as surprised a Vulcan could muster of course.
Mr. Spock with his long face, his pointed ears and dark, inhuman, sable eyes; it would have been beneath his dignity as a supposedly emotionless native of the late planet Vulcan to react with anything greater, than mild surprise.
Captain James T, Kirk looked up as the doctor marched towards him with raging gusto. "Yes, Bones?" it was half gleeful half inquisitive. Blonde brows risen as he looked to a mildly surprised first officer and back to the boldly upset chief of medical.
"Something bothering you?" Although he had wide experience in the Star-fleet service, James Kirk was a young man in his late twenties, An Academy graduate, he held the rank of starship captain, the youngest man in the 'fleet to ever do so.
Although Kirk should have prided himself to have won his command on his own efforts, the doctor knew he couldn't really. Not fully. Not when there was so much lost on that day, in the events prior to his commendation. Kirk was a handsome guy, with a wide smile and generous blue eyes that could easily turn from a commanding startling electric color when he was fierce, or a soft sky-like color that almost went indigo when he was joking or happy in the lighthearted crew setting.
His body could easily go from a sauntering lazy form, to the serious and straight posture he always wore on the bridge. Showing the responsibility that his rank demanded, even his closest friends such as Spock Dr. McCoy and Uhura seldom jested with their Captain on-duty.
Dr. MCoy Stood before him now and put his balled up fist on his hips, knowing that they'd end up somewhere else if he didn't find a position elsewhere. "Look here Jim," Belligerence beaming from the doctors reddened face, "I demand to know where we're going!"
The attention of everyone on the command bridge was on him, but he ignored them all as he glowered in the captain's face.
Kirk rolled his eyes and then looked right back at McCoy strangely. "Why, Bones?"a beat. "Why?! I'll tell you why! This ships' got no business being in space! That's Why!"
Mr. Spock slid into the conversation effortlessly. "Dr. McCoy, I believe that is the purpose of the Enterprise. As our ship was built in space, docking the ship to earth would be…illogical." The glare quickly moved from Kirk to the Commander with ease. "You sure as hell know what I mean, Spock. We shouldn't be on some confab mission right now! We should be in orbit around some Starfleet Command Center for a period of rest and reconditioning of the ship. More than half the crew is due for extended leave. The chief yeoman tells me that the commissary is ridiculously low on supplies. Scotty isn't too happy either!"
Kirk shifted uncomfortably in his chair and allowed himself a slight frown. Dr. McCoy was possibly his closest friend and the only man on board who called the captain by his first name. Of course the Captain made it well known he wished Spock would do the honors of calling him by his given name, but that never happened. Not even off the ship.
Kirk gave a sigh and rested his hands on the side consoles, laden with unrest despite their lax disposition. "Again, Bones- why? What is this sudden interest of the performance of this ships duties… that is, beyond the workings in the med-bay?" a beat. "My interests don't extend beyond the medical department, Jim. That's what I'm talking about."
The captain thought about it for a while, then returned his gaze to McCoy, "I see, Space strain? The confinement syndrome?" a beat, "Worse." McCoy gave a glare at anyone who watched their argument, causing everyone to get antsy and look away. "Chapel has detected the first symptoms of cafard in Yeoman Thomkins." And with that Kirk winced, as if the news caused a slight pain in his own physicality.
Helmsman Sulu looked over his shoulder, his alert face dismayed. "Cafard?" he blurted, Ensign Chekov too looked flustered and worried, big eyes looking back and forth to the captain and Sulu.
"That will be all, Mr. Sulu," Kirk stated bluntly, and his navigator and pilot quickly turned around to their duties giving knowing glances of worry to each other. The captain turned to his science officer. "Mr. Spock, comments?"
"Space cafard, compounded of claustrophobia, ennui- boredom, if you will- and the instinctive dread of a species, born on a planet surface, of living outside its native environment. The instinctive fear of deep space…. Formerly the fear of being in a free fall, though that seldom applies any longer. A mania that evidently is highly contagious. It is said that in the early days of space travel, cafard could sweep through a ship in a matter of hours, until all on board were raging maniacs, and.."
"Spock, I don't really need a complete rehashing of the illness. Really." The first officer continued, seemingly un-phased at the interruption. "It does not, of course, apply to Vulcans. Only to the less adjusted and less well- balanced humanoid species."
"Well, gee, Mr. Spock that's a relief. I'll tell the next ship full of hobgoblins that they can stay up in space for as long as their hearts desire… but seein' as you're the only Vulcan on this ship of 393 federation officers. Kindly tell me how I should give a damn." McCoy said with a displeased, sardonic smile.
"Alright, alright…" Kirk winced again, trying to break the two from getting into it any further. "Last known case?" Spock didn't move, didn't falter his position. Only turn his head slightly to the captain.
"Last year- on the Space Scout Westmoreland, it was found drifting, the whole crew dead. The investigation determined space Cafard." A beat. "Dead! Of what?" another beat. "They had killed each other, captain. Evidently in their madness."
Lieutenant Uhura couldn't refrain from asking, "Killed each other? How?" Spock looked to his friend and previous lover, face characteristically empty of emotion. "They tore each other apart with their bare hands, Lieutenant." Uhura closed her eyes and visibly shuddered, the bridge quieter than usual only filled with the low hums and whirring of the machinery before them.
"The Westmoreland, if I recall, Mr. Spock, was a four-manner without artificial gravity and consequently subject to free fall. The Enterprise is a starship with, as Bones so nicely put out… 393 crewmembers, a gravitational support system so that Earthside conditions are duplicated, ample recreation facilities and a completely equipped and staffed ship's sick bay. Do you know of any starship class spacecraft that has ever succumbed to Cafard?" Kirk seemed vaguely annoyed, but the bridge crew seemed interested in the conversation.
"No, Captain." The captain seemed pleased enough with the short response and turned to his CMO expectantly. "Well, Bones- comments?" McCoy rolled his eyes and replied testily, "There can always be a first, this ship has been on continual patrol for over a year. Past the normal period to be spent in deep space. Our supplies are shockingly low."
"We took on supplies at Space Station K-Eight." Kirk gave a half groan and returned his gaze to the display view. "Oh come off it Jim, you know a space station is not a star base. It lacks the facilities. We took on emergency supplies of fuel and basic food. We didn't take on new recreational equipment. We didn't have shore leave. The officers and crew couldn't journey home to family, wives, husbands or sweethearts. It was no more than an emergency stop." McCoy seemed even more irritated, especially at the captain's seemingly complacent disposition.
"Damnit Jim, our people need fresh air; they need sports, mountains, lakes, rivers and oceans. To walk the city streets, go to shows… restaurants have a good time. They're normal, flesh and blood people Jim. They can't spend their whole lives in the confines of a starship. They go stale, and finally when it's too late they get sick." Kirk was now really looking at Bones, as if pleading with him to stop. But of course, it didn't.
"I'm warning you, Jim. Cafard is the farthest thing from a joke in the medical book."
"Orders Bones, I obey orders. Like any other ship's captain in the fleet." Kirk seemed more resigned than usual, but McCoy wouldn't have it. "They're the wrong orders, then!" the captain looked pained, but only a type of pained Bones could have spotted.
"I didn't issue them."
Dr. McCoy still demanded, "I still want to know where we're going. How much longer do you expect to be in deep space?"
"I don't know." Kirk spoke evenly, not strong, not weak just nearly emotionless if it wasn't for the storms that he had in those usually bright blue eyes. Spock even blinked at that.
"Alright, listen to me because I'm not repeating myself. I'm under verbal orders only. We were scheduled, as you know, to return to star base 12 for the protracted shore leaves, replenishing of ship's supplies, and the repairs that Bones has pointed out to have become necessary during the past cruise." Everyone seemed to turn to the Captain, eyes on him with respect and some…with concern. Jim seemed to ignore it and continue on with his stern, even, captain's tone.
"While en route we were redirected to Space Station K-Eight to take on emergency supplies. There it was revealed to me that a subspace distress call had been received by Starfleet Command…"
"But why us? Why not some other ship?" McCoy Snorted, moving his arms that were previously crossed to extend a hand and waft it about. Frustrated and clearly not amused.
"Were the nearest." Was all the captain stated before turning his gaze ahead again, at the stars that seemed to dance while they warped through space.
"It can't be such a great distance from anyone else!" He continued to argue. "Evidently they are Bones." The unhappiness seemed to seep through the Doctors entire posture.
"Where are we heading? What was this distress call?"
"I don't know." Kirk seemed even more resigned, this further visibly stressing out the Doctor. On the face of it, this made no sense. And Spock raised his angular, perfect brows in question.
Wearily Kirk finished, "On my desk is a sealed tape. When we reach our immediate destination, NGC four hundred, I am to open it." Spock worded it all for them, seemingly intrigued. "Fascinating. As everyone knows, NGC four hundred is about as far into the galaxy as the federation has penetrated. So far as we are concerned, there is nothing beyond."
Kirk seemed to fluster a tad bit at the choice of words his Vulcan Commander spoke, knowing all-too-well that he had no idea what the word invoked in a humans vernacular. "There is always something beyond, Mr. Spock. True, neither the United Federation of Planets, the Klingon Empire, nor the Romulan Confederation has penetrated into the quadrant beyond NGC four hundred. However, at the present rate of expansion of all three, it cannot be to very long before we do."
McCoy wanted to gag at the obvious near-flirting Kirk was edging on, wondering if the hob-goblin even caught on. But almost coughed out his observations, "If we have to go as far as NGC four hundred before this mysterious mission even begins, there is simply no saying how much time will be involved. I repeat, I demand that we turn back!" he ended with determination and will straining in his tired voice.
Captain Kirk looked at him for a long time, an empty moment before answering. "Bones, the Enterprise has a proud tradition. Since I took over its command from Captain Pike, it has never failed to take any assignment ordered, no matter what excuses might be available. I have no intention, Doctor, of ending that proud tradition now."
Another long silence, but the glare deepened on the CMO's face. "Fine." He snapped. "But I request that my position be logged."
Kirk seemed minutely surprised. McCoy usually trusted his judgment, sure he'd argue with him like crazy or make a point. But never made it this far, as to call him out on record. Finally he shrugged and nodded. "You have that right, Doctor." He needed to be professional, despite being close friends. This was going to go on record, so he might as well keep his cool.
With great care he reached forward and touched a switch, gaze unwavering from the Doctor. "Captains log, star date, 2263.3. We are on a secret mission, the nature of which will not be revealed to us until we have reached the position NGC four hundred. Chief medical officer Leonard H. McCoy has officially put himself on record as opposed to continuing on the grounds that the personnel on the Enterprise are in no condition to remain in space."
Captain Kirk flicked the switch again, ending his log entry with his gaze remaining. "Bones." Kirk managed to mutter, seemingly a little disturbed at all that was transpiring. "I will make on concession to your fears. We'll Speed up this mission as much as possible."
He flicked over another switch and found he was viewing an empty command chair, and blinked confusingly over at the communications officer. "Lieutenant Commander Scott please." He spoke crisply, eyes straight ahead.
The screen switched again and was now at a smaller engineering compartment, which was now a mess of electronic equipment. Smoke gasping from one weird area in the ship, one were Kirk knew smoke really shouldn't be. A few men in red with black coveralls were there repairing on site, working on a confusion of wires, tubes and circuits.
Chief Engineering officer Montgomery Scott, an electronic wrench in one hand a tiny power connector in the other looked up impatiently until he saw who it was. He quickly wiped his face of the black soot and then his hands onto his sides. Only smearing the dirt worse, causing an amused Uhura to giggle a little.
"A-Aye Captain…" then turned for a second to wave off his officers. "Bide a wee, lads!"
"Scotty, we've been proceeding at warp factor 5, please proceed to warp factor 7…" a beat and Scotty's face took a turn for flabbergasted.
"Factor 7?!" "That is correct." Kirk began to extend his hand, so he could flip off the intercom. "N-now just wait a minute… er… sir." Scotty began worriedly. "What is it Scotty?"
"An orders'n order sir, and if necessary' of course…" He hesitated, looking away and scratching his head.
Kirk could tell Scott was pretty unhappy, and barely contained a sigh at the stressed out sight of him.
"Well? What is it scotty?" He knew how hard it was for Scotty, his chief engineer and the best in the entire quadrant to admit that his silver-lady was sub-par. Even if for only an hour maintenance.
"Captain, we've been on continual patrol for'a solar year and quite frankly… our engines are kinda over-worked… and I'd just…er… hate to press'r any further at this time." The Scottish burr in the engineer's voice was obvious, as it always was when he was under pressure.
"Common Scotty, we've been proceeding at warp five. I fully realize that maximum safe speed of this vessel is warp six, but that it is capable of warp eight, under considerable strain. Do you mean to tell me…"
The Senior engineering officer grimaced and answered with respect. "You are the Captain, sir. I'll give you warp six, if you feel it necessary. I cannae guarantee any warp factor beyond that."
"We're in a hurry. Scotty."
"Aye, sir. Obviously. However if your order me to proceed at a factor greater than warp six, I cannae guarantee the safety of the ship. It'll be over my protest, sir." He seemed to add the sir in his statement, clearly upset with the whole situation.
"Protest based on the fact that both outboard engine nacelles need repairing…."
"Your protest, Scotty?" Kirk seemed a little surprised, again at the way his crew was acting. And was beginning to see McCoy's side in things. If only he had a choice in the matter.
Scotty bowed his head a little and wiped the bridge of his nose as if to hide the small dissatisfaction in his eyes. "If one of the matter anti-matter engines blows this far out in space, we'd take the rest of god-knows eternity to limp back on the impulse power engines." Scotty's quiet disposition seemed to quicken and get louder with speech, obviously overwhelmed to some extent. "In fact, we'd have to send out a distress call for emergency repairs. It'd be a spot on my record, and yours… I wouldn't like to see capn'."
There was a loaded silence before Kirk could answer. "Very well , Scotty," he was stiff, upset not really at Scotty, but at the situation… and himself. "We'll proceed warp factor 6." He flicked off the screen.
Dr. McCoy had gone over to Spocks library computer station where he was groaning. "You have some influence over him, Spock. Use it to have him turn back."
"Doctor." The brow of the Vulcan seemed to inch up further into his hair-line, face emotionless but eyes that sparkled with amusement. Amusement only Kirk could really see, amusement that made Kirks own eyes smile a little with the sight. "He is the Captain. Besides, I am as familiar with the Enterprise's proud tradition as anyone else. Most enviable. I would dislike to see it ended by a simple fear of the crew going stale."
"Simple fear?!" he blurted, his pleading turned to a scowl. "Spock, you have no conception of the reality of humans. Cafard isn't some bullshit disorder… this happens goddamnit!" He clenched his jaw and turned to stomp off in disgust.
Kirk, still irritated, was staring at the helmsman before him. Nearly having to do a double take at what he saw. "M…Mr. Chekov… what in the world is wrong with your trousers?" The helmsman instantly turned, his face a turning a deep cherry red to nearly blend in with the curls on his head. "M-my trousers K-keptin?" He was horrified, being called out as everyone stared at him. Trying not to laugh.
"That bulge, it seems to be moving up your pant leg…" Spock tilted his head watching in confusion, wondering why the entire bridge found this to be humorous. Sulu's face turned to a look of shock and partial confusion. "Captain?" He was horrified, hoping this wasn't some joke.
"B-bulge Keptin?" Chekov seemed to stammer harder under the now, fierce gaze of Captain Kirk. "Mr. Chekov, what do you have there in your trousers." McCoy even stayed watching with pure disbelief on his face.
"Oh god, Chekov…" Sulu muttered realizing what it was. "It's probably Mickey." Chekov nodded and sputtered out after him. "Da… iz Mickey!"
Kirk looked incredulously at them both, wondering if it was some sick reference to his… Sulu cleared his throat as if knowing exactly what the captain was thinking when Chekov handed a small grey-brown furry creature into the hands of Sulu, and Sulu placed him on the helm.
"Mickey, Sir." Kirk blinked, and stared. "Where did that come from, and what is it doing on the bridge?" Sulu took over the explanation for Chekov, knowing that Chekov wasn't good at being thrown into the center of attention like that.
"From the planet Vishnu, sir. When we stopped at space station K-8 I was fortunate enough to acquire Mickey from one of the locals. He's a highly trained animal, sir."
Kirk tried not to sigh, and sat back into his chair and held the bridge of his nose. Trying not to let the stress reach his voice. "I thought you were clear on the orders against pets aboard the enterprise since our troubles with the tribbles…" The little beast seemed to stare at him with beady red eyes and flickering whiskers.
"Well… yes… of course sir. It's not chekov's fault. I got it for him." Chekov waved a hand up to stop Sulu from speaking. "Keptin, he is not a pet sir. Not exactly." He was a little nervous but confidence seemed to pour from him a little more at the sight of Sulu being nearly chewed out.
"Not a pet? What would you call him, or it? Or her?" There was a sigh then he continued. "I assume, ensign you didn't bring it aboard with the intentions of utilizing it as food?"
"E-Eat Mickey? Oh niet sir! He's the first of my collection of exotic animals, Captain. You see…" The Ensign seemed excited now as he described his new furry friend's function. Sulu wanting to groan, his palm now holding his face in embarrassment."Here we are, touching a hundred different planets, many of them with strange lifeforms. The way I see it, we should pick up samples of these and when we return to Earth turn them over to the zoological authorities. Wery educational, Keptin. Perheps someday…" He now sounded a little dreamy, wistful at the thought. "Someday, perhaps, there will be a section of a zoo back on Earth Called the Sulu-Chekov section, consisting entirely of rare animals I have donated."
Spock had been eyeing the crouching little animal then rose his brow. "Most fascinating, I had thought them extinct." Kirk gave a small tilt of his head up at his first officer, wondering what was going on in that pretty perfect little head of his.
"Mr. Spock…"
"Captain, if the helmsmen wish to start an experiment with exotic animals, I see no fault as long as they do not harm them. Also, I would suggest they start with other forms than…" He seemed to pause at what to call the furry little animal on the helm. "Mickey, we have a specimen here of rattus norvegicus of the family Muridae, originally native to Central Asia…"
Kirk again, almost groaned wanted to rip those bangs from his head. As usual. "A bit less technical Mr. Spock." They seemed to be arguing in their own stupid way, and the bridge seemed to relax. Oddly. "Better known as the brown rat, If I am not mistaken…"
"You are seldom mistaken I find, Mr. Spock." It was dry, subtle humor that made Uhura giggle a little behind her station.
"…The brown rat migrated westward early in the 18th century, reaching great Britain in 1730 A.D. A great frequenter of ships it had spread throughout the world, reaching the united states in 1775."
Dear god. "Very well Mr. Spock, we will not at this time go into full details of the rodent family…" Kirk ran his hand over his face and looked to the helmsmen, a stern look in his eye. "I doubt the Zoo authorities are gonna have much interest in the far-traveled specimen Mr. Sulu… Consequently..."
McCoy soon butt in, having stayed because of his mere intrigue with the whole situation. He stood close to the chair an almost whispered, as if not to make a big deal of the matter. "Jim, I suggest you allow the two to keep their trained specimen…" McCoy seemed to be searching for the right words, knowing Jim was probably stressed as it is. "We'll keep him like the ships Mascot or something, spread crew morale…"
Kirk nodded his head and McCoy continued. "Our recreation facilities are in some poor sad state of damn despair." The Captain nodded and waved McCoy away. "Very well." Kirk stood up and crossed his arms.
"Keep Mickey. But I'm not so good with having….Mickey…on the bridge, during your watch. One of you please take him below." Sulu nodded scooping the little rodent up. "Yes Captain." And head off to the turbo lift, quickly as to not upset the Captain further.
"Ms. Darwin, please take 's position at the helm."
"Yes sir." The tall, strong woman took over Sulu's vacated position and Kirk evenly commanded, " , estimated time of arrival please."
" 23.4 hours, Keptin." He nodded at that and stood to end his shift. "Steady as she goes." And Kirk made his way off the bridge. Followed by Spock and after the disgruntled Doctor.
TBC please RnR 3