This is a follow up to "Blue Plate Special" and takes place a few weeks later. The story will probably continue into another one shot after this one finishes, so stay tuned. It's really a clean slate regarding voyages for this crew. The film's AU so we don't know which adventures, if any, their TOS counterparts had will follow on here---or how. Time to get creative! And I get to bring in one of my favorite TOS characters that, sadly, was snuffed early on (and I promoted him, too!). For those who haven't read my prior pieces, Lt. Christine Chapel, R.N., and Yeoman Janice Rand *also*are part of this new ship's crew, and appear in my work.

Legalese: If anyone thinks I make anything off this, they're mistaken. TRH Paramount owns it all, lock, stock and two smoking barrels. I borrow and return, but can't guarantee the characters won't be smiling when I do! Copyright Mistress V 2009. My own work is my own.

****************
The School of Hard Knocks 1/? (ATOS-K)
by Mistress V

~Captain's log, supplemental. We are continuing onto our next port with one change of plan. My good friend, Commander Gary Mitchell, will be joining the ship as its temporary second officer, at a mutual request. Since I do not plan to promote any of my crew into that post until it is time for performance reviews, this suits us both fine. However, for now, only I know he is also on a covert operation from Starfleet Intelligence, which is his real job. I await his briefing with much interest.~

"I'm telling you, I feel just fine!" Gary Mitchell grumbled as he climbed out of the shuttle..

"Don't make me pull rank on you, mister," Kirk said evenly. "That clear space turbulence you passed through has been playing havoc with us all day. On a shuttle, I can only imagine how much worse it is." His expression softened. "Good to see you, Gary."

"You too, Jim." Mitchell grinned back at his crony. "How long's it been?"

"Too long. You were two years ahead of me, remember? Oh, I'm sure you know my first officer, Commander Spock? You'll be working with him."

"Welcome aboard, sir," the Vulcan replied smoothly.

"To sickbay and NOW, and that's an order. We'll escort you personally." Kirk tried for sternness but failed. He cracked another smile instead.

"All right. But can we go via the scenic route? Help a man in pain?" Mitchell asked hopefully, rubbing at his shoulder with a wince as he did so.

"No, the ladies' locker room is strictly off limits to the likes of us. Now get a move on!"

************ **

"The results won't be a moment," Leonard McCoy said as he led Mitchell out of the examination area. "But in the meantime, take it easy with that shoulder if you can. Regular work's fine. Just don't go pulling any superhero stunts for a few days."

"Agreed." Mitchell gave the offending joint another rub and nodded a greeting at Kirk and Spock, who were waiting in the CMO's office. "But why'd you have to run a complete physical on me as well? I could have told you I was in perfect health."

"Regulations, my dear patient, regulations. And I saved you a trip. You'd have had to report to me anyway, so I killed two birds with one stone," McCoy replied.

"Two birds, Doctor? I was not aware there were birds aboard the ship. Regulations prohibit pets, you know, and---" Spock began, a puzzled look whispering across his normally emotionless features.

"Forget it, Spock. You really need to brush up on ancient Terran slang, you know. Doctor's orders."

"What's this?" Mitchell asked, studying a plant that was growing in its own miniature greenhouse on a bookshelf.

"Ahh!" McCoy's expression lit up like an old-fashioned 4th of July fireworks display. "That, sir, is my mint plant. Sulu helped me grow it from seed."

"Eh?" Mitchell leaned in closer for a sniff. "Wow, you're right! It's genuine Terran mint. But why are you growing it? Some kind of botanical experiment? The replicators can produce anything mint flavored, you know."

"Bones has an issue with...new technology," Kirk laughed. "Says the replicators just can't replicate a real mint taste. Right?"

"A proper mint julep needs real mint, not that replicated cardboard," the physician responded stubbornly. "And I'm not taking any chances growing it in the arboretum, where anyone can get their paws on it."

"And start making their own mint juleps...," Kirk continued, almost smacking his lips.

"Or mojitos." A female voice interrupted the conversation. "Here are the results of the Commander's physical," Christine Chapel said, with a professional nod at the assemblage. "Gentlemen."

"What's it say?" Mitchell asked eagerly.

"That you check out. Jim, I'm turning him over to you. McCoy over and out."

"She checks out, too," the new second officer observed, glancing out into sickbay at the nurse's decidedly feminine departing figure. The other three men followed his gaze for a moment.

Kirk broke the mutual appreciation club's contemplation. "Well, seeing as the doctor's cleared you, Gary, how about you visit the personnel officer, complete your paperwork and get settled into your quarters. I'd like to meet you and Spock for a briefing over dinner, say 20:00 hours in my cabin? Until then, Spock here has been having some issues with circuit shortouts and has been working in the Jefferies Tube most of the day with Scotty. They could use your esperience, I think. Something to do with all that turbulence. Thankfully, we seem to be out of it at last. Report to him, and then I'll see the two of you later for dinner as arranged."

"Yes, sir!" Mitchell responded, giving his old friend's extended hand a hearty shake. "Good to be on board, Jim."

"Glad to have you here, Commander."

************ *

"Another day, another credit," McCoy sighed. "Just another half-hour before the end of our shift. Chris, what do you plan to do this evening?"

"I hadn't made plans, Doctor," his nurse replied. "I prefer to see how the day goes, then decide."

"I keep telling you, when we're not with patients it's perfectly OK to call me Len," the man chided. "You let me call you Chris. Fair's fair."

"All right...Len. .."

"ALL HANDS! YELLOW ALERT! BRACE FOR TURBULENCE!"

"Oh for the love of---," McCoy muttered. "There goes my julep."

************

"You OK, darlin'?" McCoy asked as he pulled the nurse to her feet. "That was some roller coaster ride. I hope everyone's safe, but we may be swamped for awhile."

"I'll check the damage control calls," Christine replied, adjusting her fallen hair with one quick movement. "I hope it wasn't too bad."

"At this time of day, it's a gamble. Most people are coming off shift or about to head on."

The doors whooshed open and additional staff rushed through, ready to deal with any injuries. The first patients, non-serious by the looks of it, began to straggle in after them. In a few moments, sickbay was buzzing like a honeybee colony.

"Engineering to Sickbay!" Scotty's normally genial tone was agitated.

"Sickbay!" McCoy all but barked. "What's wrong?"

"Well, Mr. Spock took...a wee bump to his noggin," the Scot began. "And he's refusin' to come see you, o' course."

"How bad is it, Scotty? Should I send a triage team?"

"Nae, Commander Mitchell and I will bring him in. But he's a bit knocked about."

"We'll wait for you." McCoy glowered at the comm unit. "Great. The day Spock admits he's injured will be the first in my book. This is probably bad---very bad. Just what I need. Vulcan concussions aren't my specialty. Now what do I do?"

"Vulcans don't sustain concussions as we know," Christine replied crisply. "I helped Roger translate those old records and worked with the Vulcan team. Suffice it to say, I know a bit about Vulcan physiology, Len, so relax. I'll assist."

"The rest of you--keep up the good work!" McCoy ordered, relieved he would have help dealing with a very sticky wicket.

The doors opened a moment later. Scotty and Mitchell hurried in, dragging a semi-conscious Spock between them. Green blood was pouring from the Vulcan's nose.

"On the table!" the CMO shouted. "Nurse, check his vitals and get some plasma ready. We have to stabilize that bleeding or he'll be in trouble or sure. Then we can worry about secondary injuries."

"Yes, doctor," Christine said, eying the diagnostic readings above their patient.

FIN of Chapter 1. More to follow.

The TOS bio of McCoy (from "The Making of Star Trek") says he's from the South---Georgia, I believe, and went to school in that region (Mississippi sticks in my mind for some reasons) So I am keeping him from that region. Remember, he professed a love for a Georgia-styled mint julep way back in "This Side of Paradise", so why shouldn't this McCoy as well?

As for Mitchell...we' ll see!

Sticky wicket is a British cricket (sport, not insect) term and often means a difficult situation.