Author's note: Warning! This story is NOT canon. Please read author's profile before proceeding, lest you be very annoyed at this AU. Also, this is the third story in the series, and knowledge of the previous stories is assumed without summarizing here. Lastly, I am continuing the convention of using asterisks to denote mental conversations. Personal thoughts and dialog with God remain in italics.

Chapter 1

James Kirk left the Enterprise quietly, without any fanfare or audience.

*Spock, are you still there?*

*Yes, Jim.*

*That was easier than I expected.*

*I am glad.*Spock said nothing more.

Kirk knew the whole thing was a bad idea, but he didn't have the heart to tell Spock to cut it off, at least not while there was no visible danger.

It took another hour for the repair crews to finish and the Enterprise to depart. But finally Kirk was alone with his new crew. They stood around somewhat awkwardly, waiting to see what he would do.

"I'm not much on speeches, so this'll be short. My name's Jim Kirk. I'm nominally in charge here. But you all know a lot more about this outpost than I do. So if you see me doing something stupid, I expect you to say so.

"I don't stand on ceremony. You don't have to address me as 'sir' or even 'Captain'. In a crew this size, first names are fine with me - whatever you're comfortable with. In a crisis situation, I do expect you to respect the position. I'm responsible for your lives, and my decisions will reflect that responsibility. My biggest concern right now is a possible return of that battlecruiser.

"Lt. Adams, I understand you're second-in-command here. What would you like me to call you?"

"The first name is Don, sir."

"And the rest of you?"

The cheerful young African on Kirk's left spoke first.

"Everybody calls me DJ, 'cause my name's not pronounceable."

"I'm Leon, sir." The next man's face had an earnest look.

"Burt." The last one looked sullen, but Kirk let it go.

"Thank you. Don, which of the four of you knows the most about our defensive systems?"

"That'd be Burt or myself. Burt's been here ten years. DJ's been here two; Leon only three months."

Kirk put DJ and Leon at the console monitors, and spent the next two hours discussing defense strategies with Don and Burt. Encouraged by Kirk's questions, Burt opened up and talked. He seemed much less sullen as Kirk respected his opinion.

"So what you're saying is that we'd last only a few hours against a concerted attack by a battlecruiser with typical weaponry. Standard procedure in such an event is to send out a distress call and then abandon the post in the lifepods. And even if we tried a few tricks like what you've mentioned, we'd only gain at most a day - not long enough to expect a rescue to arrive. Do the Klingons know how bad our defenses are?"

Don replied. "Probably. But the outposts were never designed to repel an attack - only to keep watch. The principal deterrent is that an attack constitutes an act of war, and they don't want to start it any more than we do. At least, we live with that hope."

Kirk asked how the lifepods worked. Burt told him in considerable detail. Then he asked about demolition equipment.

"Depends what you want to blow up," was Burt's response.

"A lifepod."

"You mean, like a decoy?" inquired Don.

"Not exactly. If I wanted to destroy a lifepod I was in, how would I go about it?"

"Suicide?"

"No. A timed delay."

Burt said he could rig one of the lifepods to self-destruct. Kirk sent him to do so.

"Don, as second-in-command, there are a few things we need to discuss."

He told Don what he expected to do when the Klingons returned, and what he needed from Don. Then they discussed scheduling of personnel. Kirk wanted to take two of the three shifts himself. Don objected, so they agreed to rotate the double shift.

"Can I ask you a question, sir?"

"Sure."

"You've made no mention of the fact that I'm blind."

"What about it bothers you, specifically?"

"Well, wouldn't it be better if you put Burt in charge?" Don asked tentatively.

"Is that what you think, or is that what he thinks?"

"He doesn't talk to me unless he has to, but I'm sure it's what he thinks."

"And what do you think?" Kirk wasn't sure where this was going.

"Burt was passed up for promotion because he lacks people skills. And it's too bad, because he's a genius with anything technical."

"You're still talking about Burt. What about the blindness?"

"Oh, that's no big deal. Occasionally it's a nuisance, but Dr. McCoy said I should get my sight back soon. The rest of them did; mine's just taking longer."

"So even though it's not a problem, you think I should use it as an excuse to give Burt command."

Don shrugged. "It would make it easier to live with him."

"Will he take orders in a crisis?"

"Yes, he will."

"And how would he do giving orders in a crisis?"

"I don't know."

Given that the latter was more critical, Kirk shook his head. But he tried to suggest a positive alternative. "Does he know what you think of his technical skills?"

"Probably not."

"You might look for a way to tell him, without making a big deal out of it. Meanwhile, I'm afraid you're stuck with the job."

xxxx

Lt. Cmdr. Chuck Byrd arrived a few minutes early to the 0600 breakfast meeting the morning after the Enterprise left Kirk at Outpost 67. His assignment the previous day had been general crew morale, rather than study of one officer. Consequently, he had spent the evening on the Rec Deck. The majority opinion was that Spock could run the ship blind, with his hands tied. Young they weren't too sure of. Those who'd seen the show on the Hangar Deck were duly impressed. Others adopted a 'wait and see' attitude.

More than half the crew had their eyesight back, so there was a fair amount of teasing of those who didn't. Of the observers, Sam and Gliff had never lost their sight; only Lila had regained it. That left Chuck and Sullivan still blind. Lots of horror stories were circulating about the process of returning sight. One of the rumors was that Sickbay had run out of pain medicine. Chuck hoped the rumor was false, but he was highly tempted to try it without medicine, just to see if he could.

Sullivan assigned him to Young that day. "I want to know what's different, now that Kirk is finally off the ship."

Chuck wasn't sure there would be any difference, but he kept that opinion to himself. Young spent two hours on the Bridge that morning, as was his custom. Then he toured the ship, spreading his diplomacy everywhere. Chuck gathered the purpose of the tour was to prove he could do it blind. Chuck was glad for the week's practice. He didn't get lost either.

That afternoon Young called a senior officers' briefing. Chuck wondered if he would pull out the role-playing game again, but he didn't. He asked first for a report from Scotty.

"All essential systems 're workin', sir. But I've had maybe a hundred calls from folks whose workstation isna' functionin' yet. An' o' course, none o' the equipment on the Rec Deck is up an' runnin', exceptin' the food processors. We're workin' round th' clock, sir, but twenty o' ma best people 're still blind. An' like I told Cap'n Kirk, we're havin' ta replace ever' circuit on th' ship. Takes time, sir, but we're doin' our best."

"I know you are, Mr. Scott, thank you. Dr. McCoy, how are things in Sickbay?"

"Things are looking up. I've got almost all my staff back on duty. We've discharged enough people that it's no longer wall-to-wall bodies down there. Too soon to tell on the eye replacements. All cases of deafness have recovered their hearing. A little over half the cases of blindness have recovered their sight.

"You may have heard the rumors: We did run out of pain medication twice yesterday. And it may happen again. The need for it seems to come in waves, and we just can't keep up. My only advice is don't wait til you're in agony, because the first time you ask, we may not have any. Also, get yourself lined up with a buddy. Don't try to make it through by yourself. I hesitate to quote you statistics, 'cause it's likely to be worse for you all. But plan on being out of commission at least eight hours. It'll almost certainly hit you sometime in the next week, but probably not so suddenly that you can't take steps. Any questions?"

"Any opinions on crew morale?"

"I talked to Tanzer this morning. There's a lot of teasing going around. It's how they cope. Most of it's not malicious. It'd be nice if we could avoid any more scenes like the one on the Rec Deck last night."

They had all heard about it. Within minutes of each other, two crewmen had collapsed, screaming in agony, and clawing at their eyes.

"Permission to speak, sir?" It was Sulu.

"Of course. Go ahead."

"My impression is there's a fair amount of apprehension among those who're still blind. Last night didn't help any, but I think it's going to get worse as the days go by. Imagine listening to your roommate go through it all night long, and then it doesn't hit you for another two or three days. Is there anything we can do to diffuse the anxiety?"

"Suggestions, anybody?"

Uhura began. "The worst thing we can do is sweep it under the rug and try to ignore the problem."

"Any vay ve can make a joke out of the whole thing?"

"Set up an exclusive club, where blindness is required for membership." That was Sulu's idea.

"Ve don't vant an us-them mentality," objected Chekov.

They batted ideas back and forth for several minutes. Young just let them talk. Spock remained silent. Finally Young asked for his opinion.

"I am no expert in crew morale, sir," was Spock's reply.

"As First Officer, I require your opinion." It was quietly stated, but there was underlying steel in his voice.

Spock paused before complying. Chuck got the impression he was surprised, not by the steel, but by Young's willingness to display it. "A contest among blind personnel would serve several functions. It would give blind crewmen a sense of camaraderie; it would allow us to hone our skills further; and it would provide a focus for the inevitable teasing from sighted personnel. I suggest that Mr. Tanzer be asked to set up an entertaining evening, assuming you are all willing to be laughed at."

Scotty interrupted the chorus of affirmatives.

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but I c'n think o' at least two problems with what yer plannin'. First of all, given that half your audience has recently been blind themselves, I'm not sure they'll think it's funny. Secondly, you all don't mind being laughed at, but you're not the ones with an anxiety problem either. I'm not sure my guys would think an evening's entertainment at their expense would alleviate any anxiety."

"Sounds like I need to discuss this with Mr. Tanzer. Thank you all for your input. Are there other problems or concerns we need to discuss?"

"Sir," Spock replied, "I have been working on designs for auditory output for each workstation. Although most crewmen will have regained their sight by the time we could install these devices, it seems prudent to prepare for a possible repetition of the need."

"I agree, starting with Bridge workstations. Mr. Scott, I realize your department is already badly overworked, but do what you can to assist Mr. Spock."

"Aye, sir."

"One other thing, Captain. I have studied what little data there is on the phenomenon that caused all this damage. In my opinion, there is insufficient evidence to suppose the event to be an attack by an intelligent hostile entity."

Uhura volunteered, "Starfleet reports no further contact with whatever caused it."

Young summarized, "So for now, we assume it was a natural phenomenon that won't be repeated. Anyone have anything else?" Silence. "All right. Same time tomorrow. Dismissed."

Young went to see Tanzer right after the meeting. He described the problem briefly. Tanzer grasped the situation immediately.

"I have an idea that I think would help a great deal. It would also be great fun! But I'm not sure how fast I can pull it together. Give me an hour and I'll let you know."

Tanzer's department worked feverishly for five hours. Word spread through the ship about the promised show at 2100 hours. Blind personnel who wished to be in the show were urged to sign up with Tanzer. Due to time constraints, only the first 15 volunteers would be used.

Volunteers were told: 1) An ability to ham it up would be an asset; 2) a fear of falling would be a hindrance; and 3) not to wear anything that was not washable. Chuck was on the Bridge when the announcement came through. Much good-natured speculation ensued, but no one opted out of the show. In fact, they urged Chuck to volunteer as well. Remembering Kirk's admonition to be known, Chuck said 'yes', uncertain if he would regret it.

xxxx

The Rec Deck was packed. Chuck was ushered to a seat in the front row. He could feel the excitement in the air. For the moment, anxieties were banished. Tanzer was famous for putting on a good show. But it was not Tanzer whose voice he heard.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Lt. Griggs. My friends call me Dan. Mr. Tanzer gave me this job tonight for two reasons: I can see and he can't; and secondly, he has volunteered himself as one of the contestants. We have a total of 15 participants. We had many more applicants than we have time for this evening, so we are considering a repeat performance tomorrow night. If you're interested, call me before 1200 hours tomorrow.

"Now as I draw this curtain, please be careful not to give anything away to the contestants." Dead silence greeted this instruction. "Mind you, we're here to have a good time, so go ahead and laugh, but don't blurt out any real information. Okay?"

Chuck heard the curtain move aside. The audience gasped, and then began chuckling nervously. Dan continued.

"This will be an elimination contest. The contestants have been divided into groups of three. You will choose a winner from each group. Those five will perform a second time. From that we hope to get a first, second, and third place conclusion, but it is possible that some contestants may be asked to perform a third time.

"Voting will be by audience applause. No particular criteria have been set - whatever you think is the best overall performance. Please hold your applause until I ask for your vote at the end of each group. And contestants, I remind you that roughly half your audience will be judging by sound alone.

"Now listen carefully. I will give these instructions only once. Your performance begins the moment I call your name. You are to leave your seat, make your way to the platform without assistance, climb the ladder you will find there, move to the end of the six-foot-long board attached to the top of the ladder, and fall into the vat below. The vat contains something that will cushion your fall, at least somewhat, but that something is not water. Also, do not dive. The vat is not deep enough for that to be safe. Please exit the vat on the side away from the audience. Wait on the platform for your group to finish. The winner from each group will be seated on the platform to await round two. Any questions?"

"Is there a time limit?"

"This is not intended to be a speed contest, but I suppose we'd better set an outside limit. Three minutes from the time I call your name to the time you exit the vat. If you go over, you're automatically disqualified. If there are no further questions, please remove your boots and socks."

As Chuck stooped to take off his footgear, he wondered if he dared try to pull off what he was thinking. It had been years, and this was completely unrehearsed. He listened carefully as the first name was called. It was Tanzer. He was seated on the far left. Talking as he walked, Tanzer was the picture of confidence. Chuck didn't glean much from what he heard. Only that the vat was on the far side of the stage, and whatever was in it didn't splash. It was more of a squishing sound.

The second contestant was an engineer. He didn't talk at all, but was very methodical in his approach to the vat. Chuck counted ten steps on the ladder. If each was twelve inches from the next, and the vat was three feet deep, then the fall was seven feet. The third contestant was Sulu, who tripped and fell at the edge of the platform. He also screamed as he fell. Chuck guessed that seven feet was pretty accurate, from the sound of Sulu's fall.

Chuck began to plan his own act, and only half-listened to the rest of the proceedings. Sulu won the first set; Spock won the second; Uhura won the third; and then it was Chuck's group. His competition was Chekov and Young, both of whom did well. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. It would either be a resounding success, or a complete flop.

He pretended someone was dragging him out of his chair and onto the stage. He resisted every step of the way. Once on the stage, he faked a slap in the face, and a kick in the rear, to force him to climb the ladder. Keeping up a stream of verbal complaint, he nonetheless climbed rapidly. At the top, he faked complete terror. Crawling to the end of the board, he pretended someone demanded that he stand up. Almost losing his balance twice, he finally fell all sprawled out, and landed in the vat with just thirty seconds left to exit it. He struggled to the edge and jumped over the side with two seconds to spare.

"I'm impressed," murmured Young, as Chuck stood next to him awaiting the vote. Apparently, the audience was too. Chuck was the clear winner. It was only after he sat down that Chuck's mind registered what had been in the vat: strawberry jello. Oh well, he could think of lots worse things. Meanwhile, he began planning his encore.

When it was his turn, he mimicked each of the other winners for a few seconds each: Tresky's chattering nervousness, Sulu's Tarzan yell accompanied by tripping over his own feet, Uhura's ballerina style, and Spock's automaton. Once at the top, he spent over a minute clowning around. He slipped and slid, even falling off and catching himself by one arm. He finished with a backwards somersault, landing spread-eagled, face-down.

The applause was loud and spontaneous. Chuck took several bows before they would quiet down enough to let Tresky finish it. Sulu won second place and Spock third. They were the only others who had tried somersaults the second round. Griggs wanted a few comments from the winners. Chuck was last.

"So, Chuck, we should give you a gold medal. Where did you learn to do that?"

"I learned to act in grade school. And I was the regional gymnastics champion two years running while in high school."

"How would you say your performance tonight was affected by the lack of sight?"

"Very little. Nothing I did on the board required vision. My biggest concern was running out of time. Also we were hampered by lack of practice. A seven foot drop doesn't leave much room for error."

"Were you at any time aware of a fear of falling?" Griggs asked.

"No, sir. It never occurred to me."

"And when did you become aware of the contents of the vat?"

"Not til after I climbed out of it." Chuck admitted. "I was too busy with other things. There were two safe ways to land, and it didn't matter what was in the vat. The belly flop was far more spectacular than feet first."

"You're certainly right about that. Thank you very much, gentlemen. Let's have another round of applause for our three winners tonight."