Everyone! I am back from a really long hiatus in writing. I could go into details and bore you but I'll just say this Life Happened and I did not feel a need or want to write in an extremely long time. This is the first time in at least 2 years I've actually posted something. To those that have been faithfully waiting for me to update or finish stories I apologize too. I will finish them or at least state that I will not continue on with said story. With that being said I plan on going back over my stories and seeing where I left off. I'm not completely brain dead. Anyway, please read and review, I am only posting the Prologue and Chapter 1 for this story solely for the purpose of seeing what kind of feedback I get from this. The story is far from typed out completely and I know for certain this one will take some time to finish. It is certainly the longest story I have undertaken. Also this is a work inprogress do not be surprised to see if I take off a chapter and reupload with corrections.

That being said: the characters are not mine, only Admiral Rendor, Assistant Nigel Nitish and Assistant Lucy Nitesh. These are characters I have created for the sole purpose of this story and you may not use them in your stories without asking my permission first. Got it? Good.

Now ladies and gents pull up a chair and enjoy!-BeautyandYue


Prologue: The Night Before and the Mysterious Eyes

All was quiet aboard the starship Enterprise as she sat in space dock at Starbase 11. She hummed almost silently, unheard to most, except those that knew her and loved her. Most of the main crew had gone off shift and were either winding down for the night, or, already asleep knowing that in a few hours they would rise to relieve the Gamma shift and start the next Alpha shift. Chief Navigator Lt. Hikaru Sulu turned the helm over to his second in command on the night shift, and waited by the turbo lift patiently as Ensign Pavel Chekov made one last check on his own navigation systems, and Lt. Nytoya Uhura said a few parting words to her night shift communications ensign. They headed into the turbo lift, requesting deck 5, the living quarters of the crew, teasing Chekov good-naturedly about certain "Russian proverbs".

In a deserted loading area somewhere on deck 23, a dark figure slipped from shadow to shadow, pausing at each sound, which always seemed blaring in the silence, before continuing, reaching the doors that connected to the rest of the ship. The shady character paused at the side of the door, listening to the murmur of voices that passed by before keying open the door and peeking out. Seeing no one, the mysterious form in dark pants, boots, shirt, and cloak slipped through the doors and down the hall, scurrying up a service ladder that passed through many decks, almost to the bridge, but not quite.

Lt. Commander Scott walked among the warp drives in the engine room, checking repairs, and listening to the hum—to him it was as if the ship was breathing—before heading off shift and to bed himself. As it was, he was always the first up of the Alpha crew, heading to the engine room almost immediately to check his engines to see if anything happened to them over night; most of the time nothing did, of course, (as the Gamma crew, trained by Scotty himself, was very efficient), but it never hurt to be reassured. On deck 5, First officer Spock had already retired to his room for the night, meditating quietly before his Vulcan flame. Down in sickbay, Chief Medical Officer; Dr. Leonard McCoy and Captain James T. Kirk, sat in McCoy's office sharing a drink before going to bed themselves, talking about the week of repairs that had just been finished, that the Enterprise had badly needed.

xXxXxXx

"Now that the repairs are done, Jim, where are we headed to next? Some exotic planet no one's heard of yet? Any Klingons that need a whoopin'? Or has Starfleet ordered the Enterprise to be the guinea pig for another newfangled machine, which of course Spock will fall in love with; but which will ultimately malfunction, putting our lives on the line unless we destroy it to prevent it from taking over the ship again?" McCoy drawled, bringing out his Georgia accent, which was otherwise non-existent in his everyday speech. His bright blue eyes teased as he sipped a vibrant blue liquid drink that may or may not have been legal to sell over the counter at any descent bar in the galaxy, raising a ragged eyebrow at his drinking partner across his desk, because both knew that the good doctor was usually worked up about something that brought out the aforementioned accent.

Dr. McCoy, affectionately called "Bones" by the captain, was not an exceptionally handsome man, dark hair just starting to turn gray, a kindly, craggy face; but what he lacked in looks, he made up for in heart. With his southern gentleman attitude, sharp intelligence, coupled with an even sharper tongue, made McCoy an imposing figure in his own right.

The good looking younger man with sandy brown hair and lazy hazel eyes hiding a cunning mind that most enemies' were unfortunate to find out too late, chuckled at McCoy's teasing question. Even though more often than not, James T. Kirk and his legendary crew where often asked and forced to do what Bones had just asked, albeit a sarcastic query, but almost always true.

"No Bones, nothing too dangerous this time around. I just received the first part of Starfleet's order at the end of my shift. We are ordered as followed to take Admiral Rendor and his two assistants to Crawford III where they will help train the colonists' there to survive through their first winter on the planet. He will arrive by shuttlecraft at 0700 tomorrow, and that means," Kirk said over McCoy's groan, grinning slightly, "Dress uniforms, and the whole nine yards. You know how Starfleet is about their Admirals, especially this one."

"I think you take pleasure in my pain, Jim." McCoy complained shaking a finger in Kirk's direction.

"Not pleasure, Doctor, you might actually hunt me down for my next physical, and then there would be hell to pay." Kirk said, taking a drink from his glass of Romulan Ale, the color of cornflowers and from McCoy's own stash. "Not to mention that you might withhold on me."

"Damn right I would!" McCoy exclaimed raising his glass in agreement. He and Kirk toasted each other in silent amusement, each finishing the rest of his glass in one gulp. McCoy poured each of them a new glass, and they resettled back into their chairs. He looked at Kirk in sudden sympathy as he realized what Jim had just said. "Rendor…Rendor, that wouldn't be the prig that was against you from the beginning back at the Academy, is he?"

Jim nodded "The very one in the same. You know, he actually tried to get me expelled just because I accidentally happened to get the ultimate question on his strategy exam right, which no one else had ever gotten right before? He thought I had cheated, brought me before the board and everything."

"Did you cheat Jim? I know you and if there is one thing I've learned is you have a unique way of finding the answers to some impossible situations. I could see you finding out that answer and putting it down just to place a burr in his saddle." McCoy replied swishing the liquid around in his glass, looking over the lip at Kirk. "Aside from the fact that you have to do almost everything first before everyone else does."

Kirk smiled. "That's just the thing Bones! I actually didn't go out of my way to get the answer to his question or to be first. I just guessed!" He shrugged. "Imagine my surprise the next day when I got called a cheat on that answer as he handed back the tests, in front of the whole class. Then later in the day, apparently humiliating me in front of the class wasn't enough, he hauls my ass out of another class to ream me again. Afterward I was sent back to class and I heard no more until a week later when I was put in front of the school board."

McCoy just shook his head in amusement. "Just another notch in Jim Kirk's belt with being extremely, extremely lucky. Poor guy, wonder if he passed out when you became the youngest captain of a starship?"

Jim shrugged, his drink sloshing in the half empty glass. "I don't know. But what I do know is that when I talked to him earlier this evening, he seemed cordial enough; perhaps he has put old grievances behind him."

"Perhaps…" McCoy intoned, eyes twinkling as he took a sip of his beverage.

Kirk laughed, hazel eyes flashing in amusement. "But probably not. Those few that I have made enemies of," ignoring McCoy's snort at Kirk's use of 'few', "the years have not softened their dislike; instead the dislike has strengthened. You know the old earth saying Bones, 'Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.' I plan on keeping an eye on Admiral Rendor, not to mention the two he calls assistants." He finished scornfully. "With that in mind, I had better head off to bed and be ready for the storm front in the morning." Jim knocked back the rest of his drink and rose to his feet. "Goodnight Bones." He said walking to the door. He was a little unsteady on his feet. It was barely noticeable, but McCoy caught the wavering step with a well-trained eye. He waved a little jauntily at the departing captain, knowing that Kirk would visit first thing tomorrow, before heading to the shuttle hangar. Kirk had consumed a few more drinks than he usually limited himself too when he and McCoy drank, but McCoy reasoned that Kirk had a good enough excuse; so McCoy would not tease him tomorrow when he would come in for his hangover remedy.

'That reminds me that I have to be there as well, in that damned uniform.' McCoy thought sourly and reached for one more drink before retiring himself. Because if Jim had a good enough excuse in drinking more because of the Admiral; then, McCoy reasoned, he had a good enough excuse for one more drink because of the dress uniform he would have to put on in the morning.

XxXxXxXxX

Kirk walked out of Sickbay and headed into the turbo lift. Grabbing a handle, he murmured, "Deck 5." A smooth ride a few minutes later, Kirk swiftly ended up at Deck 5. He stepped out of the turbo lift and listened to the sounds of his ship. The sound of the engines humming quietly, that was the product of Scotty's miracle-like work, almost a purr to Kirk's trained ears. To which Scotty always proclaimed that was what good working engines should sound like. There were sounds from around the deck, of doors hissing open and close quietly, and the short burst of laughter from a cabin somewhere down the hall, to be quickly hushed by another, lest the merriment wake up someone, heaven forbid Scotty or Uhura! Uhura was mild enough, but if someone woke her with a loud noise, without a good excuse…well, she had been known to report loudly in the REC room, that she had some very loud mice and that they should be quieter if they knew what was good for them. Scotty, actually, Kirk reflected suddenly, he really did not know what Scotty did if someone woke him. All he knew was that when Scotty was woken up, Deck 5 was silent as a tomb for the next two weeks straight and the people down in engineering looked a little more frazzled then usual after a shift driven by a sleep-deprived Scotty. Kirk rounded the bend in the hall knowing that at the end of it were his own quarters and a bed to fall upon to sleep the extra drinks off.

As Kirk walked past doors, he stifled a yawn, counting down mentally the doors until his room. 'Sulu and Chekov, Uhura, Scotty, Spock…' Kirk stopped at Spock's door contemplating if he should open the door to say goodnight, then brushed it off, knowing his first officer would most likely be in bed already. Spock was always on the bridge before anyone else and the first one Jim saw in the morning. Not that Jim was complaining. The sight of Spock turning at the sound of the turbo lift doors opening in the morning was warmth enough for Jim to pretend Spock waited for Jim to come onto the bridge to say good morning to him first, before including the rest of the bridge, since the beginning of their mission two years ago.

Therefore, Jim continued then to his own room, and palming it open, he walked halfway through the door and stopped. Turning around, he scanned the hall before him, listening intently. Listening for what, Jim was not sure. All he knew was that something was different, making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He realized what it was; something had interrupted the "breathing" of the ship; that was what had made him freeze. Jim held still, barely breathing; but whatever it was, did not repeat itself. Jim scanned the hall one last time before heading the rest of the way into his room; pushing it to the back of his mind as having had one too many drinks, and Scotty was still tinkering with his precious engines. He fell onto his bed and within minutes was snoring softly, not bothering to even pull off his boots.

XxXxXxXxX

Spock entered his rooms after a long shift and quickly changed his uniform to his meditation robes. He would have gone with Jim and McCoy to Sickbay tonight, they did every Friday, if they had asked, but they had not. Jim and McCoy had learned in the early weeks aboard the Enterprise that Spock, as a Vulcan, did not drink alcohol. It seemed pointless to them to ask him every Friday only to be politely denied each time. Consequently, they no longer asked. This time though, however illogical it may be, Spock found himself wishing they had.

Instead, he sat quietly before his meditation flame, eyes closed. In reality, though, his mind would not calm down to the level necessary to file his observations and thoughts from the day; he was listening. Listening for what, he was unsure, but listening he was. Spock was learning to listen, if only slightly, to the human side of him that he kept tightly controlled, and his human side said to listen. It was something the humans called a sixth sense, and Spock had seen it used many times in his life aboard the Enterprise. Jim had an extraordinary amount, very unusual in a human. Then again, Jim was not that normal in the human sense, either. That sixth sense had saved Spock and the rest of the crew on the Enterprise more often than not, when either Spock himself could not find a logical solution or while the laws of logic or the universe in general did not pertain, to whatever they were facing.

To human ears, the crews' quarters were pretty much soundproofed, but with Spock's heightened Vulcan hearing, he was able to hear snippets of muffled conversation as people passed by his door on the way to their own rooms.

Exactly 15.3 minutes after the official end of alpha shift, Spock's hearing picked up the footsteps of Sulu, Uhura, and Chekov. As they passed his door, he heard "But Pav, everything couldn't have been invented in Russia." Then the group went past and Spock heard no more of the conversation.

19.4 minutes after shift, Lt. Commander Scott's footsteps coming up a service tunnel located close to his room, told Spock that the engineer had just come from checking his engines one more time for the night, and judging by the slightly off key humming, Spock concluded that nothing was wrong. Not that there should be. Mr. Scott had the foremost knowledge of the workings on the ship and even came up with a few (a lot) of the improvements to the ship himself. Spock reasoned, Mr. Scott seemed to be somewhat of a genius when it came to improvising at the last minute, pulling out of thin air a miracle when the captain asked him too. The humming stopped and Spock knew that Mr. Scott had gone into his room.

Then finally, exactly 30.2 minutes after shift, right on schedule, as was the amount of time he allowed himself to linger in Sickbay, the sure footsteps of Jim Kirk sounded out in the corridor. Spock's mental countdown of the doors mirrored that of his captain, though neither party knew that. 'Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov, Lt. Uhura, Mr. Scott, and…' Spock heard the steps of Kirk falter slightly before his own door and contemplated that Jim must be considering coming in and saying goodnight, as was his custom, like every day coming to say good morning to him before greeting everyone else on the bridge.

Spock realized that he did not mind the human sentimentality of having to greet everyone first thing in the morning or wishing one a good night. In fact, even though Spock would never admit it, because it simply was not logical, he looked forward in the morning to hearing Jim's cheerful acknowledgment of him, before saying it to the rest of the bridge crew. Even if Jim were having a bad morning, Spock always got the same sincere, warm greeting, then the rest of the crew got a smile and a nod, and that was all that was needed.

Or so, Spock had concluded, until he realized that Jim must have thought he was asleep, and thinking not to bother him, continued onto his room next door. Spock felt a flash of disappointment, before forcing it away as useless emotion. Jim's gait, so confident most of the time, was a little unstable as he walked on toward his quarters. Whatever was distressing enough that Jim had drunk more than was his usual alcohol consumption, Spock was not sure, but as the thought crossed his mind to get up an inquire after Jim's state of alertness, Jim had moved to his own door, and had palmed it open. Spock heard Jim's footsteps stop so suddenly that Spock wondered if something was wrong. When something was not right on the Enterprise, Jim would know almost immediately, he had an almost intimate connection with the ship, to know when something was not right. Straining his ears, Spock tried to hear what had made Kirk stop so quickly, but whatever it was Jim heard; Spock did not. Therefore, after a few moments, Jim continued into his room, and Spock came to the logical conclusion that nothing was a miss.

It was as if Spock subconsciously waited to hear that Jim was in his own room safely, before going about his own preparations for sleep. If it had dared to cross Spock's mind, he would have pushed it aside as illogical, waiting up for the captain, a colleague, and as he was finding out, a close friend that was like a brother, or even more, to him. After Spock knew that Jim was in his room, probably sleeping off the inebriating drinks, he was able to reach the level of concentration to meditate and then prepare for bed ten minutes later.

XxXxXxX

A hatch opened slowly on deck 5, where most of the crew's quarters resided. A lithe figure slipped out, closing the cover quietly. The intruder quickly glanced down the empty hall left and right. Seeing no one, the individual hugged the wall and seemingly melted into the shadow cast by the bend in the hallway. A few minutes later, voices could be heard coming down the hall. A small Asian man, a young slightly agitated Russian man, and an exotic looking woman with skin like chocolate rounding the corner laughing quietly, was what a pair of concealed eyes saw. Snippets of their conversation floated down the hall, to unseen ears. "Chekov only you would say that the old proverb 'Accidents will happen' was first heard in Russian, but I know for a fact that it is an old Swahili proverb." The woman in the short red dress said.

The woman chuckled as the young man in yellow gold of ensign insisted, "But it's true! That is vut the home country is known for, among many others things." The dark skinned woman only shook her head, shrugged her shoulders in the I-give-up, and bid the two men goodnight as they had reached her door.

"But Pav, everything couldn't have been invented in Russia." The Asian man exaggerated lolling his head to one side to look at his friend, grinning. His friends called this man Hikaru Sulu.

"Hikaru," Pavel Chekov dragged out with an exaggerated patience of a teacher talking to a slow student. "Ewerything vas inwented in Russia. Vhy the Garden of Eden vas located just outside Moscow. "** Chekov's distinct Russian accent becoming even thicker in the heat of the conversation.

Sulu laughed, slapping a hand on Chekov's back, he steered the young ensign into the quarters that they shared. "Pavel my friend, let me tell you something that didn't originate in Russia, and I can prove it."

The closing of the door cut off whatever Chekov's reply might have been, leaving the hall in silence once more, lights dimmed on deck 5 for the quiet hours between 2300, and 0700 hours.

XxXxXxX

A small silhouette slunk from shadow to shadow, low and hugging the corridor wall; disappearing somewhere in between Scotty and Uhura's room. A few seconds later, humming an old Scottish barn, Scotty came up the service tunnel connected directly to his personal domain, next to his quarters. Scotty patted the wall fondly, murmuring a goodnight to his beloved ship, and headed into his rooms yawning and stretching.

XxXxXxX

The ship hummed, sighing like an old house settling on its foundations. The hiss of the turbo lift alerted unseen eyes to a figure in the gold shirt of command walking confidently, if a little unsteady now, down the hall. Captain James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise, the smug grin on his handsome face, made the hair on the back of the silent watcher's neck prickle. He voice and palm keyed his door open; halfway through the doorway Captain Kirk stopped suddenly, alertness flashing across his face that was moments before a slightly sleepy inebriated look. He turned his head to look up and down the vacant corridor. Anxiously, the observer pressed farther into the shadows; should Kirk think to look harder at his surroundings, even though the spectator was near invisible, but whatever had made Kirk wary passed and he walked the rest of the way into his rooms. Muttering to himself about not enough sleep and too many drinks the door hissing softly closed behind him.

The outline of a human fell onto the wall between Uhura and Scotty's room, even though there was no one else in the passageway. Out of the darkness, like a person walking through air, a character dressed in dark pants, tunic, boots, and a dark cloak appeared. Black curly hair poked around the edges of the drawn up hood, and unusual gray-colored eyes glinted from inside the hood, as the mysterious intruder stepped through the shadow as one stepped through a doorway, the silhouette now cast on the wall was the prowler's own outline. Checking down and up the corridor uneasily, and appearing to see no one coming, the entity tiptoed over to the closed hatch covering Scotty's private tunnel, and dragging the cover up, began to descend quickly, quietly; pulling the lid closed after it. Soon the footsteps faded away from the deck above, and finally, all was silent.