Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters are copyright of Paramount and whoever else. The episode "Return To Tomorrow" was the 51st episode of the original series, and all references to that episode are not of my own creation. Consider this to be a mini-sequal of that episode, maybe even an Alternate Universe if you people decide you like it and want more.
Chapter One - Jim Kirk
I stared up at the blank gray ceiling of my quarters. Yesterday...had it only been that long?...we encountered yet another unknown alien species. Spock, Doctor Muhall, and myself had let ourselves become hosts for the energy beings, for a short amount of time. Henoch, the spirit held in Spock's body, had killed my own while Sargon dwelt in it. Through some strange power that I still don't understand, Thalassa used her powers to reunite my body with my consciousness.
At the time, we thought Sargon had merely overstayed his time in my body. Transferring of life energies evidently cost us a lot, bringing intense fever to the host. But Henoch had done it with a simple injection from a hypospray.
After return to my own self those last few times, Bones didn't bother to scan me with that tricorder of his. The first few transfers had nearly killed me, and I guess he figured I was getting used to it. He didn't even ask whether I was okay.
I rolled over on my side, frustrated at my inability to sleep. Probably a side effect of Sargon's consciousness. But that didn't explain why I felt like I'd been run over by an elephant. The pain had only appeared a few hours after the aliens departed from the Enterprise, and I thought nothing of it. But now it was making it almost impossible to sleep. It was even worse than the time I'd been stabbed by an Endorian.
I sighed, and sat up. Trying to get to sleep was worse than the Kobayahi Maru. And there was certainly no simulator to reprogram, no rules to change.
Pulling a book off the shelf, I turned my lights on dim. Light just good enough to read in. I glanced at the cover. Hamlet. Well, it's not exactly a bedtime story, but it would have to do.
I opened to my marked page, and continued the page. Soon my pain was forgotten, and blessed unconsciousness claimed me.
~~~~~~~
"Jim."
"Spock? Spock, is that you?"
"No."
A memory, searing pain as I collapsed to the floor of the Briefing Room...
"Spock! Why did you do this to me? Spock!"
"I did nothing, Captain. It was you who brought this upon yourself."
"What?"
"You let Henoch take me. You let him control me. And that is why you will die."
Silence. Then, "You aren't Spock."
The memory of Spock's evil smirk as he rose to test his new form...
"That is correct, Kirk. Your death will be by the hand of your own."
"SPOCK!"
I jerked awake, gasping for breath. 'A nightmare, that's all it was,' I told myself. 'Just a bad dream.' I felt hot, and my sheets were soaked in sweat. I felt like I couldn't breathe, couldn't stop shaking.
Something was wrong. It hadn't been just a nightmare, it had been something else. A message? An attack, perhaps? But why?
I have no idea how long I sat there, head in hands, trying to calm myself. Minutes, hours, it all was the same. But I finally looked at the chronometer, and realized the sleep cycle was almost over anyway. In fifteen minutes I would have to start heading toward the bridge.
So much for getting any sleep.
Chapter One - Jim Kirk
I stared up at the blank gray ceiling of my quarters. Yesterday...had it only been that long?...we encountered yet another unknown alien species. Spock, Doctor Muhall, and myself had let ourselves become hosts for the energy beings, for a short amount of time. Henoch, the spirit held in Spock's body, had killed my own while Sargon dwelt in it. Through some strange power that I still don't understand, Thalassa used her powers to reunite my body with my consciousness.
At the time, we thought Sargon had merely overstayed his time in my body. Transferring of life energies evidently cost us a lot, bringing intense fever to the host. But Henoch had done it with a simple injection from a hypospray.
After return to my own self those last few times, Bones didn't bother to scan me with that tricorder of his. The first few transfers had nearly killed me, and I guess he figured I was getting used to it. He didn't even ask whether I was okay.
I rolled over on my side, frustrated at my inability to sleep. Probably a side effect of Sargon's consciousness. But that didn't explain why I felt like I'd been run over by an elephant. The pain had only appeared a few hours after the aliens departed from the Enterprise, and I thought nothing of it. But now it was making it almost impossible to sleep. It was even worse than the time I'd been stabbed by an Endorian.
I sighed, and sat up. Trying to get to sleep was worse than the Kobayahi Maru. And there was certainly no simulator to reprogram, no rules to change.
Pulling a book off the shelf, I turned my lights on dim. Light just good enough to read in. I glanced at the cover. Hamlet. Well, it's not exactly a bedtime story, but it would have to do.
I opened to my marked page, and continued the page. Soon my pain was forgotten, and blessed unconsciousness claimed me.
~~~~~~~
"Jim."
"Spock? Spock, is that you?"
"No."
A memory, searing pain as I collapsed to the floor of the Briefing Room...
"Spock! Why did you do this to me? Spock!"
"I did nothing, Captain. It was you who brought this upon yourself."
"What?"
"You let Henoch take me. You let him control me. And that is why you will die."
Silence. Then, "You aren't Spock."
The memory of Spock's evil smirk as he rose to test his new form...
"That is correct, Kirk. Your death will be by the hand of your own."
"SPOCK!"
I jerked awake, gasping for breath. 'A nightmare, that's all it was,' I told myself. 'Just a bad dream.' I felt hot, and my sheets were soaked in sweat. I felt like I couldn't breathe, couldn't stop shaking.
Something was wrong. It hadn't been just a nightmare, it had been something else. A message? An attack, perhaps? But why?
I have no idea how long I sat there, head in hands, trying to calm myself. Minutes, hours, it all was the same. But I finally looked at the chronometer, and realized the sleep cycle was almost over anyway. In fifteen minutes I would have to start heading toward the bridge.
So much for getting any sleep.