Hello Star Trek fandom! I've been reading for awhile but this is my first written attempt so I hope it doesn't disappoint. I'd like to thank my beta Icelinaoc for her help with getting this story off the ground! This will be a long fic but I have most of it written.
I don't own anything, I just play with worlds.
Next To Normal
Ch 1: She's Not Here
"Keptin! I am getting some strange readings from the planet's atmosphere."
Captain's Log, Stardate 2258.272: Our position, orbiting around M-526. A routine landing mission, one of many.
"Affirmative, Captain. I, too, am receiving data indicating an approaching ionic flare. Possibly even a full storm."
Perhaps not so routine, as I am not a member of the away team as usual. But this is a currently uninhabited class M planet, and the mission is a simple archaeological, botanical reconnaissance trip. Boring. Also, the planet is rumored to have a distinctive smell that is unpleasant to humans. For once, it seems to me that there is no reason for the Captain to go along on this particular mission.
"Transporter room, Scotty, status report! What's going on and how can we get our people out of there?"
So instead, I selected Lieutenant Sulu, Lieutenant Uhura, and First Officer Spock to head up the team. Perhaps not the most cohesive group available at the moment, with Commander Spock and Lieutenant Uhura's…difficult relationship, but they are the best men for the job; and only two red shirts in the whole landing party for security. As I said, boring.
"I donnae know, Cap'n. I have never seen anything like it in all o' my days. I'll keep running analysis but you better get a hold of them, and soon. If this gets any worse, I willna be able to get a lock on their signal."
"I can help with zat!"
Of course, all of the exciting things happen during the one away mission I pass on.
"Commander Spock, do you read me?"
"Yes, Captain. Our mission is going sufficiently thus far. Our readings have shown-"
"Spock, I need you to listen to me for just one minute, here. You need to gather up the team and get ready for transport. Immediately."
"Captain, with all due respect, this is not the agreed upon transport time. We still have much to-"
"Damn it, Spock! Can't you ever just trust me?"
"Trust without questioning is an illogical manner of interaction, one only practiced by those naïve enough-."
"Captain, this is Uhura. I'm reading some weird shifting in the atmospheric pressure. I've gathered up the rest of the away team at the rendezvous spot and we're ready for transport as soon as I convince this one to leave."
"That's my girl, Nyota! I couldn't have said it better myself. You heard the woman, Spock. Time to go. That's an order."
It almost sounded like he sighed. The nerve of that pointy-eared hobgoblin! Times like this made him certain that all of his first officer's so-called 'Vulcan logic' was just a cover for his arrogance and pretentious attitude.
"Yes, Captain."
The transmission crackled away, and just in time, too. Kirk was certain that the two of them were about to jump at each other's throats. He certainly didn't want to hear anymore of that anytime soon.
"Scotty, ready the Transporter Room for beam up in T-minus five minutes. Chekov, get ready to start locking through this mess. Bones, report to the Transporter Room. I don't know what transporting humans into the middle of this this storm is gonna do to them, so you better be ready."
"Aye, Cap'n."
"Yes, Keptin."
"Whatever you say, Kirk."
It's hard to take charge in a crisis. If you're not Captain James Tiberius Kirk, that is. End Log.
Uhura and Spock trudged back to the rendezvous point in silence. He had been the only one who hadn't reported back when she had commed their whole unit to prepare for imminent departure. The ion storm wasn't waiting for anyone, and she didn't want to stick around to find out what it would do to them.
Stubborn man, he made her walk all the way out to his location to retrieve him, pretending not to hear her comm, when they had precious little time as it was. He could be putting himself and the whole landing party in jeopardy. She wanted to scold him, but it seemed like they were constantly on thin ice as it was.
"I dislike how you referred to me when speaking to the Captain. You sounded as if you were speaking about a petulant child, which I am not."
Well, that did it. Uhura was planning on being civil, but he knew just how to push her buttons. All bets were off.
"You do realize that by saying that, you sound exactly like a petulant child, right?"
"The Captain and I have an especially…. strained relationship, even in terms of typical Vulcan-human interaction. And, as my bondmate, I do not appreciate you speaking in a derogatory manner about myself to others. Especially to my direct superior."
"Just because I am your 'mate', does not mean you have any right to tell me what to do. I am your partner. We are equals. You do not own me. And this is Kirk we're talking about. I've been bantering with that man since before you knew either of us."
"…You have been engaging in human mating speech with that man since before I knew you, as well. And while you have brought up the subject, I also dislike that you now allow him to refer to you in such a familiar manner."
"You know just as well as I do that the blame for Kirk knowing and constantly using my first name rests squarely on you. I have been trying to end his childish name game since the day I met him. And are you actually accusing me of flirting with Kirk? I thought Vulcans didn't do the whole jealousy thing. I have never once returned his advances and you know it."
"Being possessive of one's mate is something that is admired on Vulcan. If you were to spend time there, you would see that many if not most Vulcan women wear the mark of their bondmate with pride in public."
"Is this about the biting thing again? I can't believe how worked up you got when you saw that I was dermal regenerating the stupid hickeys you leave on my neck. You're the one who wants to keep our relationship secret!"
"Being discreet and feeling shame for my claim on you are two completely different subject matters."
"Honestly, Spock, I thought this 'you are mine' thing was sexy at first, but it's starting to get old. I'm my own person. Just because we are involved does not mean you can control my life. On Earth, we call that an abusive relationship."
"You are my bond mate. I have shared all with you, mind and body. And yet, you owe me nothing? You accuse me of abuse? If you are to be used as a point of reference, humans truly are mercurial and spiteful creatures."
"If you think humans are so fickle, then why did you pick to be with one in the first place?"
"Perhaps I had an unfortunate and brief lapse of logical thought. I shall endeavor to change this practice in the future."
"Great, don't count on me being in that damn future of yours then!"
Silence reigned once more. Just another day between them, filled with constant fighting and silence. A pattern she was becoming particularly fed up with. They just didn't understand each other. She could not believe she was more or less married to this man.
Captain's Log: I have lost a very good man today, the first since I became Captain.
"Scotty, I cannot take one more minute of this. We are all here. Beam us up before I do something I regret."
The only noise amongst the landing party was the wind picking up and whipping around them. The atmosphere crackled with unrestrained energy. And they were about to head straight through it.
…I was mistaken when I thought that by sheer will and stubbornness I could save them all.
"Aye, aye, Lieutenant Uhura."
Scotty clicked off his comm, nearly rolling his eyes at Chekov.
"I donnae envy him right now."
The silence felt never-ending, concentrated between where the first officer and communications officer stood frostily beside one another. Flashes of light burned across the sky, in direct contrast to the cold couple on the ground below.
"Who eez it you are speaking of, Lieutenant Scott?"
Spock considered saying something, perhaps an apology for their previous interaction. They were about to enter a highly unstable situation. Logic dictated that it was best to clear one's conscience before entering into a dangerous situation. But, petulantly, as she had accused him of not five minutes prior, he held his tongue.
"Never mind, Chekov. You are better off not knowing. Engaging transport."
A high metallic whine filled the air as the energy began gathering around their party. The flashes seemed to be becoming more frequent, and closer to their location on the ground. The light was mixing with the light from the transporter beams, fireflies amongst flames.
"Signals locked on. Hurry, Meester Scott, it is getting wery fuzzy."
Something else was filling the air, too. Voices. The landing party glanced at one another. No one was speaking. Spock thought he heard his name.
"Transport engaged."
The landing party was gone, ripped out of the fire as if by some benevolent god. All but one, caught in the dancing lights and voices.
"Lieutenant Scott! The electromagnetic energy has just increased tenfold! I cannot keep a lock on all of them!"
"Chekov, it's all you, laddie."
"I'm trying, sir! The signals are becoming wery veak! Their molecular signatures are far less condensed than they should be."
Several bright beams of energy lit up the room.
"I'm loosing one! Meester Scott, get them in here now!"
Four bodies appeared in the glow, one blue, one yellow, and two red. All men. She was missing.
The room became eerily quiet. Or perhaps that was just the roaring in Spock's ears. There was an emptiness inside of him that had not been there a moment before. He felt as though something had been ripped from him. It was not as all consuming as the loss of his home world, but it was more acute and far more physically painful. Thinking something had gone wrong in transport, he turned to Nyota, uncertain if he was going to survive beyond this moment. He felt like he was dying. She was not to his right as she should be. He whipped back around. She was not to his left either. He fell to his knees.
Knowing the reason for his sudden loss made it infinitely worse. Bones was standing over him, yelling something at him. He could not hear. He could only feel. Then, just as suddenly, there was a light swirling to his left. His heart swelled with hope and sound came rushing back to him.
"Dammit Spock, I'm a doctor, not a mind reader. What the hell is going on with you?"
But she was there. All was right. The light swirled for far longer than it usually did, seemingly taking an endless amount of time to reassemble her. Spock suddenly realized he had come to his feet, held back from the light only by the wall that was Leonard McCoy, solidly planted in front of him.
"Oh no you don't. I don't even want to think about what would happen if you got caught up in her transport beam."
And then she was there, his beautiful Nyota. He was fairly certain he nearly pushed through McCoy in his attempt to get closer to her, to sweep her into his arms and never let her go. But then, his steps faltered, and the ache, not actually gone but just laid dormant with the crashing waves of hope, returned with a vengeance.
It was not she. But it was. But it was not.
This was, without doubt, Nyota Uhura. She was a tall, thin, African woman in a rather skintight red Starfleet uniform. She could be no other. But she was wrong, in a billion tiny ways. Some were obvious to any observer, her curviness, the length of her hair, the age of her face. Others were seen only by him, who had logged thousands of hours simply staring at his Nyota, taking in everything about her. Her earlobes were a fourth of an inch too long. Her uniform was missing the distinctive stitching symbols that covered the current regulations. Her eyes were missing their usual fire as she looked at him.
She was looking at him. Her mouth formed a silent 'o' of surprise, and then she collapsed. His reflexes were slow, but he was still able to grab her wrists and pull her into his arms. Immediately upon making contact with her skin, he was barraged with a wave of foreign emotions and memories, an overlying edge of terror and shock emerging through it all. He had spent far too much time in his Nyota's mind for it to ever feel so unfamiliar.
Scotty had found a Nyota Uhura, but he had not found his Nyota Uhura. He cradled the woman in his arms and felt a silent tear slip down his face, all semblance of control gone. The stranger's memories and emotions pulled at him harshly, even in her unconscious state, an insult to his memory of Nyota's gentle cerebral embrace. Even her mind had been more beautiful than this woman's.
He heard voices once more, but only faintly through his grip.
"Bones, what is going on in there?"
"Uhura's back, Captain…but I'm not sure it's her."
"And just what in the hell does that mean, exactly?"
"I lost her, Keptin! I'm so, so sorry. I vas so excited when I found another signal but…it iz not her."
"We are still searching, Cap'n, but the storm is getting worse. I donnae know if we will even be able to lock on if she is still down there."
"She is not there."
His own voice surprised him. It sounded so distant from himself, so small and weak.
"Spock? What are you saying?"
"Good lord…are you…is he…crying?"
"She is gone, Captain. She is no longer with us."
...But I'll be damned if I don't do all I can to bring her back. End Log.
Reviews, pwease?
