A/N: Hee hee, it's begun! I've started that plot that's been hounding me. Due to some requests in my last story for longer chapters, this story shall comply (hopefully). I do not own Star Trek characters, nor the planet Arcturus (that's in some novels like The Entropy Effect and The Lost Years). I'm excited for this story so please enjoy!
WARNING: This takes place after the 5 year mission but there is some blatant disregard for canon. Namely, Kirk isn't an admiral (hasn't even come up) and Spock hasn't gone for Kolinahr. If this bothers you, well, deal with it because I still want you to read my story.
It was over.
In his mind, James Kirk was well aware of that fact. He accepted it, understood it, and knew he had to move on. But in his heart, he couldn't let go.
After five years in space, the Enterprise had returned home.
There had been a huge welcoming ceremony. The media had been hyping it for days. So for a while he could pretend that the action was still going on as he recounted tale after tale amidst the crazy festivities. Everyone he knew was still there, and instead of being in danger they were all having fun. But all good things must end, don't they?
It finally became real to him when McCoy approached him with news of his resignation. He had been relaxing in his San Francisco apartment. The Enterprise was still up in orbit (yes, in spacedock) but he simply felt like he was on shore leave. But when hazel eyes met blue and his friend told him he was leaving Starfleet, that's when Kirk knew: it was over.
There was no dissuading McCoy, either. He had pressed, threatened, and begged, but the man held firm. "Jim, I'm still not entirely sure why I joined the Fleet even in the first place," McCoy had said. "And as much fun as we had I can tell you now that another mission like ours and I'll end up a basket case."
If Kirk thought that felt like a sucker punch to the stomach he was mistaken. And he realized how mistaken he was when Spock showed up later with the same message. He had been offered a teaching position on Vulcan, and would begin in six months when the next term started.
Yes, it was over indeed.
And to top it all off someone had planted a bomb in Starfleet Headquarters barely a week after the Enterprise returned.
The results were staggering. It had taken out almost an entire city block and then a raging fire had started. Air rescue emergency measures were taken immediately but that didn't stop the death toll from reaching 1,000 and then passing it. The list of casualties came out today and the Federation declared that tomorrow would be a day of mourning the tragedy and all non-essential personnel could take off work. So as the list scrolled on all over the news Kirk found himself wandering to a lesser part of the city and stumbling into a bar. And why not? he thought bitterly. After all that had happened, he could sure use a drink.
Vaguely he wondered if Bones might want to join him. Lord knew he felt death deeply. He walked over to a comm station and called his hotel room. Since Joanna wouldn't be earthbound for another month he was still hanging around San Francisco until she arrived.
Either no one was in the room or Bones simply wasn't answering. Kirk sighed. "Hey, Bones, it's Jim. I'm over at a bar called, um, the Idle Swan. I was just wondering if you'd want to join me for drinks… you can swing by anytime you get this… I don't know how long I'll be here. It's a nice place. Well… later." Kirk closed the link and sighed. Then he moved for the counter.
The bar seemed unusually crowded. But then, Kirk realized, with the dead list coming out people who lost loved ones were probably going to drink away their sorrows. He couldn't blame them for trying.
He sat on a stool and ordered a Finegale's Folly. The barmaid soon returned with the beverage. "Rough day?" she mused.
Kirk gave a tight smile. "Now times it by 7."
She shook her head. "Should've come here earlier, then."
Kirk's smile grew wider. "I'll be sure to remember that."
She wasn't a bad-looking barmaid. She had platinum blond hair piled around her head and was wearing a skin-tight, abstract-design outfit. She seemed tall, but from the way she walked Kirk figured she was in heels. He was about to ask her name when another patron waved for her attention. She moved off to tend her job.
Kirk fiddled with his drink before taking a sip. It was very good; strong and sweet. This was the real deal; no synthesizers getting in the way. There was a pang as he thought of his ship.
Before his brooding could get any worse, there was a barrage of loud laughter to his left. Kirk could hardly believe it as a familiar voice reached his ears.
"An' I'll tell ya another thing. Now, this story's got a lot'of parts in it, so keep yer ears open, lad an' pay attention." Kirk picked up his drink and walked farther down the bar counter. Finding a new seat, he tapped Scotty's shoulder.
The Scotsman whirled. "Who in the bloody- Jim!" There was a sudden, crushing bear hug.
"Whoa! Hey, Scotty, it's good to see you, too. It's been what, 5 days?"
Scotty pulled away. His face had the flush of someone who was a little tipsy. "5 days, 5 years, I've missed ye, sair. I was just tellin' Clay here all about the Enterprise an' all of a sudden you show up! If tha' isn't a lucky coincidence, I don' know what is." Scotty, frowned, then suddenly perked up. "Oh, aye me! Clay, this is Captain James T. Kirk, Captain, this is Clay." The man on the other side of Scotty held up his hand. He seemed polite enough.
"It's nice to meet you," Kirk said, his spirits rising. Leave it to Scotty to get him out of his sudden depression. "Do you two know each other?"
Clay laughed. "We do now, Captain. [Please, call me Jim]. Montgomery's made for a more interesting conversation than the friend I came with." He jerked his head to where a small, squirrely man was draining a glass. Empty bottles littered the area. To Kirk it seemed like he could pass out any moment.
"So Scotty, what are you doing here? Last I saw you couldn't wait to tackle the ship's refit."
"Ach, I know, sair," he sighed. "But I've got t'have a wee bit of shore leave, an' this is one of the hardy type of bars, an' asides, I cannae start tomorrow 'cause of the day off!" He squinted at Kirk. "An' how did ye find out 'bout this place?"
Kirk shrugged. "I wandered in off the street."
Scotty clapped his back. "Well, then remember wha' I said 'bout coincidence, because I can't!"
Kirk laughed and Clay joined in. "I never thought I'd be drinking with two important men from the Enterprise," he said, shaking his head. He raised his voice. "Hey, bartender! Let's have another round over here, on me!" Scotty whooped and Kirk quickly downed his glass to make room for more.
At about 1 A.M. the last three patrons were ejected from the bar. They were all grinning like idiots and two were leaning heavily on each other singing 'Itsy Bitsy Spider'. Only they forgot the rest of the song after 'climbed up the water spout' and so just ended up repeating the first two lines.
"Captain, Captain!" one said, breathless. "Which way is yer apartment?"
"It's Jim!" the other roared. He stopped. "And I have no idea." They burst out laughing and stumbled into each other and nearly fell off the curb.
"We can crash at my place, it's not too far away," the third one, still upright, said.
"Aye, Clay!"
"Lead on!" Kirk suddenly lost his hold on Scotty and fell over. He sat grinning on the street. "I'll catch up!"
Clay bent down helped the drunk man to his feet. "Scotty, can you walk?" he called.
"Laddy, I've been drinkin' scotch since before ye were born," Scotty said. "Now how old are ye?"
Clay sighed and they ambled off, rounding a corner to a ramshackle area.
"Hey," Scotty said. "That's a, a Brizen-class ship!"
"Yep," Clay said. "And my home. It's kind of like living out of a car."
It was big enough to have warp capabilities, but small enough to land on a planet. However, it needed a small crew to operate, and it was empty when they entered.
The two men crashed on some bunks in the back and were out cold. Clay sighed and walked elsewhere in his home.
Two hours later, the ship took off.
McCoy grimaced as a knock on his door woke him from his sleep. He sighed, and sank back into his covers, pretending he imagined it. Nope. The knock came again.
Groaning, he untangled himself from the sheets and checked the time. 10:30. Far too early in the morning, he thought. Considering how late he had been up last night, he was determined to sleep in.
Crossing out of the bedroom, McCoy wondered if it was Jim coming to give him grief about last night. Not that it could be helped. McCoy had spent most of the day consoling a friend after his wife died in the terrorist attack. He hadn't made it back to his hotel room until shortly before midnight, and he figured that, despite Jim's message, it was a little late to join him for drinks. Besides, he was dead on his feet.
The knock came again. "For Pete's sake, I'm coming!" he growled as he undid the lock. The door swooshed open. And Spock was standing there.
McCoy blinked. This was unexpected. He felt a flutter of hope that he was dreaming and thus, still asleep. Except he wasn't.
"Spock," he said. "What are you doing here?"
"I am looking for Jim Kirk," he replied.
McCoy processed this slowly, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his mind. "O-kay… why?"
"Yesterday I invited him to eat breakfast with me in a little café and we agreed to meet there at 9:00 A.M. today," Spock continued. "When the captain did not show up I contacted his apartment, but got no answer. So I visited it. He is not there. So I wondered perhaps if he was with you."
"So you dropped by?" McCoy asked. "Why didn't you just call?"
"Doctor, I did," Spock pointed to the comm station. McCoy turned and saw two, blinking, new messages.
"Oh." He frowned and Spock stepped inside. "He's not here," he told the Vulcan offhand. "But last night I got a message saying he was at a bar, the 'Idle Swan' I believe."
"I see," Spock said. "And who sent the message?"
"Jim, of course, who else do ya think?" McCoy didn't care that his wording had left room for misinterpretation.
"Do you suppose he is still there?" Spock inquired.
"Well, he's somewhere," McCoy groused, shambling back into the bedroom. "And that's as good a place to start. Just let me change and we'll be on our way."
"Doctor, I did not mean to disturb you. I shall go to the Idle Swan."
"Hold it right there." McCoy stuck his head out the door and pointed at him. "Jim's my friend, too, and I'm his doctor. That means if he's drunk someplace then I get to tag along to make sure he doesn't have alcohol poisoning and to yell at him for getting that drunk in the first place. Now sit." He pointed at the couch.
Spock walked over and slowly sat down.
"Good. Now let me freshen up; I'll be out in a jiffy." The door shut.
A moment later it opened again and McCoy stepped out in more suitable day clothes.
"Alright, Spock, let's go."
The Idle Swan was located in a dubious region of town, Spock noted. As he and the doctor walked in they found it empty except for a barmaid sweeping the floor.
"We're normally closed," she said upon sighting them. "But we're making an exception considering the attack." She set the broom down and wiped her hands. "What can I getcha?"
"We are not here for drinks," Spock said. "We are looking for a friend of ours who was here last night; James Kirk."
"Kirk," the barmaid mulled the name over. "James… does he go by Jim?"
"Yes," McCoy said.
She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I know who you're talking about. He, Clay, and a man named Scott were in here having a ball last night."
"Scotty?" McCoy asked. "Scottish accent, dark hair?"
"Yup."
"Where did they go after you closed?" he pressed.
She shrugged, platinum curls brushing her shoulders. "I think they were too drunk to go much anywhere, at least, on their own. Fortunately Clay could guide him."
"This Clay," Spock said. "Was he drinking with them?"
"Yeah, like old friends. Of course, alcohol does that to people. He paid for their drinks, too."
"Why wasn't he keeling over?" McCoy wondered.
The barmaid rolled her eyes. She apparently didn't like the many questions. "Because he's a Narkonen. They don't get drunk."
McCoy frowned. Something seemed off here. Apparently Spock sensed it too when he asked "Who exactly is Clay?"
"Clay Vanguard," the barmaid answered. "Trader, popular customer when he's earthbound, pays well." She sighed. "Anything else?"
"A moment, please." Spock guided McCoy away from the lady and they stood near the entrance of the bar.
"Spock, you act like you know that name. Is Jim in trouble?"
Spock motioned for McCoy to keep his voice down. "Doctor, according to Starfleet records, Clay Vanguard is a rogue dealer. He has been brought up on black market charges as well as dealing with the Orion and Romulan empires. The facts, as this lady tells them, say that Jim and Mr. Scott got drunk with Clay, who in reality cannot get drunk, and followed him out of the bar." McCoy narrowed his eyes.
"Hey, if you two want to know more about Clay one of his buddies is passed out in the back," the barmaid called.
Spock straightened. "If you could please show us."
She led them into a dark back room where various odd and ends were kept. A figure was sprawled on the floor, snoring heavily. She flicked on the light, took a bucket of water, and dumped it on the small man.
"Whoa! What? How?" the man spluttered. He cringed as his hangover sank in.
"Crawlings, these two boys want to talk to you," she snapped. She spun on her heel and left Spock and McCoy with the squirrely man.
"Who- who are you?" the man finally said, trying to focus his eyes on them.
"I am Spock, and this is Dr. McCoy." Spock paused. "Do you know where Clay Vanguard is?"
"Clay? He's… oh crap." The man cursed some more. "I missed it, he's left me here."
"Missed what?" McCoy asked.
"Um," Crawlings suddenly looked hesitant. "I can't say."
"Look," McCoy dug in his pocket and held out some pills. "These treat hangovers. Do you want them?" Crawlings reached out but McCoy pulled his hand back. "Where is Clay; and our friends Scotty and Kirk?"
Crawlings looked longingly at the closed fist. "I don't know about… Kirk… but I do know that Clay and Mr. Scott should be on their way to Arcturus."
McCoy sucked in a breath. Arcturus. This was not good.
"Why?" Spock said.
Crawlings winced. "Look, a job's a job, okay? And I'm kept in the dark half of the time. All I know is they should be going to Arcturus about now. Say, what day is it anyway?"
McCoy sighed and gave him the pills, informing him it was Tuesday. Crawlings downed them dry and went back to sleep. Thanking the barmaid for her help, Spock and McCoy left the bar.
They stood outside in silence. "So," McCoy said. "Arcturus."
"Indeed," Spock spoke. "Since Captain Kirk was with Clay and Mr. Scott last night it is logical to assume he is with them now." He lapsed back into contemplation.
"Well, aren't we going to do something about it?" McCoy said, irritated. "We need to inform Starfleet of a double kidnapping!"
"I am uncertain how productive that would be," Spock said quietly.
"Are you kidding me? A captain and a chief engineer have been captured by a Federation criminal. They've got to do something!"
"Normally, Doctor. However, I fear that in light of the recent tragedy, Captain Kirk's and Mr. Scott's predicament will pale in comparison. Secondly, Arcturus is outside Federation space and thus, jurisdiction. It is also relatively close to the Klingon and Romulan empires. Starfleet patrols already give the planet a wide berth, and they would be unable to interfere. Thirdly, I also doubt that any serious measures can be made by Starfleet today, since it has been declared a 'day off'."
"Well, we can't just wait until tomorrow!"
"No, we cannot."
"Exactly! So, wait, Spock, I know that look. What do you have in mind?"
"Doctor, I suggest you begin packing some things we'll need."
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