Dull as the Doldrums

By WikedFae

Summary: Cut off from the Enterprise, our intrepid group of super troupers manages, once again, to drive each other to the brink of insanity. Screaming and tricorder chucking abound.

Disclaimer: Star Trek was created before I was born, and I highly doubt I am the reincarnation of Gene Roddenberry. Enough said.

Dedication: I dedicate this piece of the Star Trek universe to my roommate for her infinite patience with my stupid ideas and for encouraging me to keep writing, despite my lack of confidence regarding quality.


"I don't believe it," groaned one James T. Kirk as he stared out at the desolate landscape sprawling before him. Weathered rocks littered the rough terrain and it seemed little vegetation was hearty enough to properly put down roots in the gravel soil. "Ugh…I just don't believe it!" Kirk continued fuming, agitatedly pulling at his hair. Beside him, Bones McCoy peered suspiciously into the wasteland of the ravine at their feet.

He sighed through his teeth and slanted his eyes towards the young captain. "You know, Jim, this reminds me of what my world used to look like before I divorced my ex. Sometimes, I don't think she was quite human…could suck the life out of nearly every damn thing—even if it was already dead!"

"Oh yeah?! Well let me tell you something, Bones! This woman…she must have been a goddess…and where the hell does she stick us? In some hell-hole of a desert!!!" Kirk's description went from reverent to indignant within seconds. Needless to say, it earned him a quick smack upside the head.

"Hey! Wh—"

"Jim. For once in your life, shut up. How many times have we gotten stuck in ass backwards situations because you swore a creature of the female persuasion was beyond mortal and graced with gifts of deities? Now, the Orion girls I could understand…damn sirens…but this?" McCoy ceased speaking, reduced to muttering murderously as he stalked off.

Moodily, Kirk took his frustration and anger out on a nearby rock pile, much to the disagreement of his big toe, as he took a particularly vicious kick. His displeasure only increased as an involuntary yelp of pain left his lips before he could crush the urge to even utter a sound, the result and fault of the throbbing digit in his boot. Glaring at his companions as if to dare them to comment, he was sorely disappointed to find that neither Bones nor Spock were paying him an ounce of attention. It seemed, Bones was more interested in some resilient foliage while Spock appeared enamored with a reading, presumably anomalous, coming from his tricorder. Great, just great…why didn't I think to assign anyone else slightly more cooperative and sociable to this away party? Kirk thought. Oh right…because you didn't think you'd meet a blood-sucking beauty who would STRAND YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE!!!!!

"Kirk to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise." Kirk tersely commanded and waited for the expected reply, yet none came. Static buzzed out of his communicator, regardless of the frequency setting as he desperately scanned the channels.

Clearing his throat, he addressed his first officer. "Uh…Spock, any reason communication channels are blocked off?"

"It seems, Captain," Spock started as he approached him, "that there is electrical interference due to sprite formation in the mesosphere; it is reflecting our signals."

"Sprite formation?" Kirk was sure he had misunderstood. Unless this spatial displacement had shifted them into the realm of the mythological, he didn't see how sprites played into this scenario at all.

"Yes, sprites. They are clouds of lightning mimicking those forming above us currently." As usual, Spock's external demeanor did not display any concern that he had just pronounced them to be standing under a budding electrical storm.

"Oh…well, in that case, do you suggest we move to a more hospitable area or should we wait until we're singed to a crisp?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, but it inevitably seemed lost on Spock.

"I believe that relocation would be prudent, sir." Dry response, as always.

Rolling his eyes ever so slightly, he called out to Bones, "Oi! Come on! We're moving!" Turning back to Spock he asked, "Should we look for shelter, or do you think we are close enough to the edge of the storm to get an uninterrupted signal to the ship to get us?"

"Based on tricorder readings, we seem to be on the outer rim of the pressure cell; however, given the unknown atmospheric patterns, it may be better to find shelter and wait for less variable weather."

Making their way down the slopes of the steep ravine, they did not waste time with inspecting the peculiarities of the world, although Kirk noted Spock cataloging findings whenever his eyes were not glued to the path before him. Glancing at the third man in their entourage, it seemed Kirk had not been the only one to notice Spock's furtive data cramming. McCoy's eyes had that annoying twinkling in them, showing just how much he was amused by the Vulcan's obsession with science even in the face of an impossible situation. It looked as if he was about to comment on the fact to Kirk, but seemed to suddenly realize this was captain he was addressing, and it was because of the captain that they were in this mess. Subsequently, his amused expression fizzled out quicker than a decompressing airlock and he went back to brooding. This is going to be an impossibly long few hours if none of us are speaking, thought Kirk. Eventually, and to the captain's relief, they came upon an entrance of what appeared to be a short tunnel. Further analysis revealed it would provide adequate shelter and that the caves branching off were structurally stable.

As they clambered into the small opening, Kirk immediately pulled up a small patch of dirt, lounged against the cave wall and decided to rest his eyes. If no one was talking, he wasn't going to waste energy trying to make conversation. The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was Bones stalking off to prowl against the far wall of the cave while Spock was still avidly punching things into his tricorder and scanning the geological formation in which they were huddled.

------*******------

The next thing Kirk became aware of was a bright flash of light, blasting through into his shuttered eyes. Cracking an eye open, he noticed the daylight had waned considerably, although he was not sure if it was due to the progression of the day or from the worsening storm outside. It seemed Bones had ceased his pacing and eventually given in to sleep and was dozing in the corner. And Spock? Spock was still absorbed in tricorder readings.

"Trust a Vulcan to stoically pursue scientific documentation when stranded," Kirk muttered as he hauled himself up and meandered over to his first officer.

"Amusing, however incorrect in your labeling; I am merely fulfilling my duties as chief science officer. My heritage or cultural disposition towards logical analysis does not hold sway in this instance."

"You're right, the only thing your heritage influenced was the fact you actually heard that. Damn pointy ears too sharp for your own good," he quipped. Once again, the only response he received was a slight tilt of the head and a steady ascent of an eyebrow. "Never mind," Kirk sighed as he looked down at the read-outs on the tricorder. "I take it you found something interesting?"

"Perhaps." Focusing his attention fully on the tricorder screen, Spock was silent for a moment before launching into speculation. "The physical weathering of the rock formation suggests a type of pressure release occurring; this is typically associated with plutonic rock erupting to the surface. What is anomalous is that plutonic rock should not form caves like this. The fissures and cracks running along the surface of exposed intrusive rock are characteristic of the pressure release and will subsequently cause erosion via wind forces, and climate permitting, frost disintegration. However, these processes should result in rounded or sheet-like stocks or batholiths, not—"

"Okay, Spock. I got it. Some anomaly. Before you go off on an entire lecture on planetary science, is this unexpected situation immediately threatening our safety?" Kirk asked as he shook his head to stop his eyes from glazing over and crossing. Spock looked at him and he got the impression part of the half-Vulcan was regarding him like one would a particularly stupid child. After a beat, Spock answered.

"No, Jim. I was simply commenting on the nature of the anomaly."

"Well alright then!" Kirk exclaimed and clapped Spock on the shoulder. "You have fun with that."

Wandering over to the tunnel entrance, Kirk peered out to gaze at the storm churning in the skies above. Catching a glimpse of sunlight, he called back to Spock. "What do you think our estimated time is for getting a message out to the Enterprise?"

If a Vulcan could look grim, Spock positively oozed gloom as he joined him. "If my calculations are correct, the storm should pass into the northwest in approximately forty minutes."

"So why so down in the mouth?"

"Upon initial assessment, I believed the sprite formation was exclusively responsible for our communication failure. Since then, I have had adequate time to ascertain other factors. This formation has been highly enriched in chromium and platinum, as well as a few other metals. It appears during fractional crystallization of the stone, the metals cooled in sheets effectively distorting communication channels."

Kirk grabbed at a chance to interrupt as Spock took a breath. "So how far do we have to trek?"

Luckily, Spock didn't pursue his in-depth look at metallurgy and capitulated. "After the storm has passed, we will need to travel at least one kilometer away from this plateau to actually reach the ship on a high frequency setting. Of course, one kilometer would be the best case scenario."

"Best case scenario?" Granted, one click was a breeze, but if it was only the best case scenario, how bad would the alternative be? "That implies there's also a worst case scenario."

"If the region we are in is a stock and not a batholith—" Spock started.

"Without the science lecture, Spock."

"Judging by our proximity to the base of the low lands, one or two kilometers should get us far enough away. If the intrusive rock formation spreads beyond that, we are facing an area greater than one-hundred square kilometers. Currently, it is impossible for me to extrapolate how far we would need to move."

"So…we're just going to pick a direction and start walking?" This was just not his day. Thoughts of being back on the Enterprise in time for dinner were rapidly fading as Kirk faced the ultimate reality.

"While I would not suggest such a rash idea, in this circumstance, it may be best to put our energies towards gaining distance from these mountains immediately instead of waiting for a rescue. Lieutenant Commander Scott will not be expecting a message for another forty-eight hours."

"Alright. We'll wait the storm out and break as soon as possible," Kirk sighed. To his consternation, his stomach chose that exact moment to grumble loudly. "In the mean time, I'm going to try and forget about food."

"The likelihood we will find anything edible, let alone palatable, is not promising. This region of the planet served more of a mining purpose rather than an agricultural one. The natural vegetation is very harsh and I am not sure of any native toxins. Dr. McCoy may know more with regards to toxic effects native to this sector."

Before Spock could expound upon what 'little' he knew about toxic effects, Kirk sauntered off to wake up Bones. As he came up beside Bones' prone figure, he roughly nudged him with his boot. "Hey, psst. Bones. You gotta wake up."

A set of bleary eyes peered up at him and narrowed almost immediately. "Why? Because you told me to? I don't think so."

So Bones was still ticked at him…just great. "Need to ask you about known toxins on this planet."

Bones scrabbled into an upright position, pushed off the wall and headed in Spock's direction, completely ignoring the captain. After a few curt words in hushed tones, Bones began dragging his feet back towards Kirk, all the while glaring with all the venom he could muster. "We don't have to leave for another forty to fifty minutes at best. I can't give you answers about potential toxins while we're just sitting here. On the off chance we do find something to nibble on, I'll answer your questions then," Bones grumbled. With that, the doctor sank back down onto the hard earth, rolled over and deliberately shut his eyes.

Frustrated, Kirk turned on heel to find how to kill time. He considered going back and talking to Spock, but didn't want to push his odds of being assaulted by another academy lecture. Eventually he settled for dispassionately staring out the mouth of the cave and humming random strains of old rock tunes.

------*******------

An hour later, having found the storm dissipating, the small group began making headway down into the ravine. Bones was as grumpy as ever, sullenly plodding along at the rear of the line; Spock had scrambled a good twenty meters ahead and continued planning the next leg of the trek. That left Kirk in the middle—effectively between a rock and a hard space. One of his companions was unwilling to talk to him, the other was only too willing to spout monotonous information at him. All in all, no colorful or captivating conversations to alleviate the boredom that had settled over Kirk's shoulders like a cloak of black pitch. His feet felt heavy, his eyes itched and there was a building pressure behind his ears that could only mean an impending migraine. The hike down into the ravine was nearly over but Spock had already started in an eastward direction, navigating out of the canyon and onto the scraggly desert plain that stretched out to infinity. The brilliant star above them blasted light on the scorched land, blazingly intense. The clouds had moved off towards the northwest leaving the sky above a vivid aquamarine with red streaks near the horizon. It would have been a beautiful day if there had been an ocean nearby, Kirk thought. And maybe a few chicks in bikinis.

Heaved sighs of boredom gradually became laced with edges of frustration while absent mutterings became more directed in trajectory; bleeps from the tricorder remained as impassive as always, but steadily grew louder as the silence of the valley overtook the travelers. All together, it made for quiet an entertaining symphony. Unfortunately, the only audience members in attendance were too preoccupied to fully appreciate the music they were making. If Spock had noticed either of his companion's displeasure, he ignored it, casting it aside with the label: "Human Emotions, Universal Mystery". Bones could feel the one-sided tension building as he surreptitiously shot angry glances at the back of his oblivious captain's head. Once Kirk became aware of the mounting antagonism, it had grown so acerbic he could almost feel its bitter burn on his tongue. If this had been any other situation, he would have inquired about what was causing Bones' displeasure. But this wasn't any other situation, and Kirk already knew why his doctor practically had steam coming out of his ears. And if Kirk had been born with more patience, he might have been able to ride out the animosity. But once again, the odd scenario had worn Kirk's already short nerves to the quick and he was feeling the effects of the fraying.

The day dragged on, seemingly forever. Kirk even had the impression time had slowed so much it was actually moving in reverse. It was too bad that Spock wasn't showing any signs of slowing. He kept pace up ahead, constantly scanning, but giving no indication the metallic sheets in the earth were behind them. Bones' nap seemed to have done him good and he had kept up with Spock quite nicely. Kirk, however, was lagging behind—not due to his lack of sleep, more his lack of nutrition. His stomach cramps were greatly contributing to his sour mood and the scorching sun above did not do anything to improve it, either. It was precisely because this place was so boring that Kirk was becoming so agitated. Without anything to take his mind off of physical discomfort, each scratch from fabric, every droplet of sweat adding to already soaked clothing and each moment spent trudging through this furnace multiplied his irritation four-fold. His thoughts would have turned inward to punish, if he were mature enough to handle self-criticism. But his current state wouldn't allow for it, laying out the logic that once this bad trip was over, he would have enough time for reflection and re-evaluation of just when and where this away mission had gone horribly wrong. A small voice in the back of his head told him that Bones was right in his directed anger, but shouting about it wouldn't solve their problem right now regardless of how much that appealed to him. Blame and guilt were going to be assigned and accepted later. Hoping to take his mind off his physical discomfort and bruised ego, he desperately scanned the horizon in search of something interesting.

Fortune would not smile down on him, however, as his eyes met nothing but vast expanses of emptiness. Even a tumbleweed would have been enough of a distraction, but it seemed all plant-life in this hell seemed content to root itself firmly and not go gallivanting across the plains as the wind wished. Wait, what wind? Kirk thought miserably. There is no wind. It was as if they were walking through a vacuum that sucked out motivation as much as it depleted life forces. He jogged ahead a few paces to catch up with his comrades and made his last attempt at breaking the ice and relieving the tension.

"Man, this place is as dull as the Doldrums," he sighed with a rueful smirk on his face as he caught Bones' eye.

It looked like it would almost work as a grim smile began to work at the corner of the doctor's mouth. Almost. While the late Mrs. Grayson had done much to teach her son about the ways of humans, she obviously hadn't taught him every turn of phrase. Bones' attention was diverted from Kirk to Spock as the half-Vulcan questioned, "But Jim, how can the Doldrums be dull? They are among some of the most fascinating waters; humans required hundreds of years to fully understand the complexity of the fluid dynamics and physics in that region. For example, geostrophic currents could only illuminate one aspect of water movement, while ignoring vital physical confines. Dr. Ekman encountered similar problems when he chose to incorporate wind shear in opposition to the Coriolis force, not to mention his entire modeling of the Ekman spiral disintegrated when surface waves were too turbulent. Even Sverdrup had difficulties modeling and predicting what was occurring off of the coastal regions…"

By this time, Kirk had tuned Spock out, but he was far from calm. He was seeing red. Just as this had been Kirk's last attempt at turning the whole fiasco into a rather embarrassing joke, it seemed that Spock's interruption and latest sojourn into physical oceanography was to be the final straw. He felt his anger and frustration explode around him as the impassioned youth from his past emerged from within with that same yearning for vindication in the face of injustice. The small voice that had cautioned him before was drowned out by the cry of rage that left his lips. He dimly heard Spock say something about trade winds and some professor, Anand Musculus, who eventually figured everything out, but he couldn't comprehend it. Bones was looking slightly alarmed at his captain's behavior and Spock had ceased his babbling, but Kirk had no grip on his emotional reins anymore. He barely registered the steady widening of Bones' eyes and came to the distant conclusion that some very vicious curse words must have just flown from his mouth.

It all happened in an instant. Later, Kirk would recall that he had glanced at the useless tricorder in his hand, his only possible link to getting home, and flinging it away with all the force he could muster. What he did remember was the second it left his hands, heading in Spock's direction. Everything would have been fine, had Spock not been distractedly looking at McCoy, obviously questioning their captain's sanity. As it was, the tricorder impacted with a sickening crack against the side of Spock's head.

If time hadn't already been moving in slow motion, Kirk could have sworn it was going even slower. The rational part of him tamped down on the volcano of frustration inside and he could only watch in detached disbelief as his first officer sank to the ground, unconscious. Then it was like his ears remembered how to work again. Bones was screaming at him full volume, gesticulating wildly as he rushed over to his new patient. A dark green bruise was forming along one side of Spock's upper jaw, luckily spreading away from his temple. Concerned about the head injury he'd caused, he made to move towards the crouched doctor and prone first officer only to be buffeted back by a harsh growl.

"That's enough, Jim. My scans show he'll live and luckily there's no concussion. Now get back. I don't care if a galloping herd of Kelaran wildebeest comes stampeding through here, I want you to keep away from my patient, seeing as how you decided we weren't busy enough trying to survive."

Kirk chose to heed the advice and retreated to a small rock formation. Sinking down onto one of the low boulders, he sullenly rested his head on his forearms and watched as his first officer was patched up.

------*******------

Five hours later found Kirk still sitting, staring unblinkingly at the two people he considered his best friends. Now there was no rock or hard space to come between. Effectively, he was flattened against an unyielding wall. What a mess you've made of things, he thought. No one to talk to, nothing to do; just sit here and wait until dawn and more evil glares. Night had fallen and her cloak was as cold and unforgiving as the sun's inferno had burned. Bones had done a good job and eventually found stones to heat up with his phaser. Dim lights surrounded his two comrades and it made for an awfully peaceful scene. Kirk shivered and his stomach protested its lack of sustenance, but he ignored it all. Bored, once again, he stared off into the distance and sighed.

"Man, this place really is as dull as the Doldrums."

Beside him, his communicator began crackling to life.

Fin


A/N: This was my first attempt at writing something like this and I hope it brought at least a few smiles and exasperated eye-rolls. I had debated leaving the last line out, but considering I had no plans on continuing this story, I didn't want to be completely evil.

Also, I can only claim the name of Dr. A. Musculus as my own creation. Everything else that appears in this story does exist in the realm of science, sadly enough.