"WILL YOU HURRY UP!"
"Mr. Mudd, shouting at Chief Engineer Scott will not cause him to finish sooner," calmly said Commander Spock.
From where he had been yelling over his shoulder, the head of a young human snapped around to incredulously stare at the other person at his side. Another young man evenly looked back, his features serene, even if they were a bit greenish-tinted, a color that extended throughout all exposed skin, including the elegant pointed ears.
"You…you…" sputtered the formerly-bellowing teenager, momentarily at a loss for words directed at his companion where they were both standing braced against a metal door, holding it shut with straight arms and their flattened palms pushing against the surface of the door. The look of total disbelief given to the Vulcan by his partner passed over an adolescent's face that belonged to a perfect stranger, yet the sarcastic snarl that now came from the teenager's mouth was pure Harcourt Fenton Mudd: "Try telling that to what's on the other side of this!"
CRASH!
The back door to the shop the three citizens of the Federation had been chased into promptly shuddered, as Harry Mudd yelped and skipped back, shaking his stinging hands that had been pressed against the door until the unseen but extremely bellicose creature on the other side had smashed into it in an eager attempt to enter and devour the trio.
At least, that was one possible reason for the creature's actions, mentally noted the science officer. It was just as likely that being was desirous of mating with one or more of the three individuals in the building. As he braced his new body against the door, Spock decided not to inform the civilian next to him of his latest conclusion. It was already noisy enough in this place without having to listen to a human shouting various obscenities at the top of his lungs.
CRASH!
The door was shoved open a fraction, before Spock dug in his feet and pushed back, slamming the door closed and causing a frustrated howl to be expressed by whatever was on the other side of the entry. It was fortunate that his Vulcan strength had carried over onto his new shape, even though it wasn't the complete power Spock could have shown in his normal, full-grown body. At that thought, the Vulcan looked behind himself at where the young human that was now somehow inhabited by Mr. Scott busily worked away.
In the corridor of what Spock had been informed was a "hardware" store, the chief engineer of the Enterprise sat on the floor, surrounded by various objects grabbed from the shelves of the store as the boy frantically linked up several primitive vehicle batteries with electrical cables into a control box that was inlaid with spare circuitry taken from Spock's tricorder.
The Vulcan's attention was drawn back to the door he was holding shut, as it creaked and groaned. The science officer raised his estimate of the unknown creature's intelligence, as instead of continuing in an useless attempt to break through the door, their attacker leaned against it while using both its weight and strength to slowly push it open. Quick calculations were made regarding the possibility of this succeeding, and the answer was readily evident by Spock's boots beginning to skid backwards on the floor. Harry Mudd, his different face paling, also backed up as the door became ajar enough for a massive reddish-orange furred hand with clawed fingers to lunge through the gap.
Only Vulcan reflexes kept Spock alive at that moment, as he ducked, feeling the creature's hand sweep through the air just above his head in an unsuccessful grab. Scrabbling against the side of the door, the fingernails of the creature now scraped against the metal surface, peeling off slivers of steel with what even the science officer had to admit was a most unpleasant sound. For once, there was evident strain in his voice, as Spock called out, "Mr. Scott!"
"Working on it, laddie…." came a distracted mutter from behind the teenager with the pointed ears, who momentarily envied the human on his right backing up to flatten himself against the stocked shelves and beginning to gibber. Having to always be stoic could be most irksome, especially in situations like these.
With a pleased growl, the creature behind the door managed to slowly force it open a bit wider, allowing more of its arm to reach through for its taloned hand to start descending towards Spock's upraised face.
"NOW, SPOCK!"
Before Mr. Scott had even started the second word of his shout, the Vulcan had promptly relaxed his body. This caused the creature pushing against the door to be taken totally by surprise, and with now no resistance to all its strength, it shoved the door open in an instant, causing it to slam against the far wall and for the creature to fall through the doorway.
Spock had held onto the suddenly-opening door for a fraction of a second, allowing the impetus of the moving door to thrust his body through the air to sail to where Harry Mudd was cowering against the shelf. Naturally, the Vulcan landed on his feet, and in one smooth motion, a hand went out to grab Mudd by his arm to lift him off the ground and hurl him towards a specific location, while right after that, Spock dove away as far from the door as he could manage.
The panicked yelp by a mid-air Mudd was ignored by the Vulcan, who was confident that the human would have a reasonably soft landing in the pyramidal pile of full plastic sacks where he had been thrown into, as the son of Surak and Amanda hit the floor himself, to smoothly roll, twist, and spring to his feet, now facing the door.
Unfortunately, as Spock stood up, so did the creature just before the doorway that had now fully revealed itself. A rectangular body totally covered with red-orange fur that was at least three meters tall and whose arms reached up nearly another two meters for its razor-sharp fingernails to rip through the ceiling panels in its rage. This emotion was also vividly shown by the neckless head that was the top of this creature's body, bearing no signs of ears or a nose, but with glaring oval eyes and a wide, lipless mouth, from which came a ear-splitting bellow of fury. Stubby legs took a step forward towards its prey, slamming down against the floor hard enough to make the entire shop shiver, as the creature advanced in its….
A mental voice howled with total incredulity inside Spock's mind.
*TENNIS SHOES?!*
The Vulcan had no time to react to this, as Mr. Scott finally decided it was time to fire his weapon. A silent prayer in his mind, the Scotsman's finger jabbed on the switch, and a blue wave of energy erupted from the jury-rigged stunner he'd just thrown together. Faster than the eye could blink, the energy blurred across the shop to hit the creature directly in its chest. For a few moments, the monster just stood there, as blue electrical discharges crackled across its entire form, and then as the energy faded away, its eyes rolled back upwards in its head, and the now-unconscious creature slowly and gracefully toppled forward, landing with a massive thud onto its front, causing objects throughout the shop to fall over and off the shelves with a concluding clatter.
A shuddering sigh of relief came from the boy seated on the floor. Spock was almost tempted to join in. Almost. Instead, he sent a curious inquiry to the personality now sharing his mind. *What did you mean about that creature's foot--*
This mental question was interrupted by the sudden sounds coming from Spock's right side. Turning to look, the Vulcan lifted an eyebrow at the brown dustcloud that now floated in mid-air and hid the entire spot where he'd thrown Harry Mudd into the pile of plastic sacks. This cloud also concealed whatever was now making the soft thuds and ripping sounds, as presumably sacks slid off the pile and tore, exposing their contents and contributing to the haze. Further obscured was the man himself, though the muffled yelps, swearing, hacking, and coughing revealed that Mudd was still in the middle of this minor disaster and even if that person was uninjured, he was certainly not having a good time.
"Spock, what happened?" came from the young boy who'd gotten up from the floor and stepped over to stand by the Vulcan's side. As the science officer looked down into the fresh features of the adolescent that in no way resembled the human he'd known for years, the only comfort for the alien came from the familiar Scots accent that managed to rumble from the mouth of….*Andrew.*
Thanking the other personality in his mind for this information, Spock nodded at the dust cloud and spoke, "I believe Mr. Mudd's landing damaged his cushions, and released whatever filled the sacks. Hopefully, since as you explained that this is a place of business with various customers seeking tools and implements, whatever was in those containers is not toxic."
"Pity, that," growled Mr. Scott, shooting a dirty look at the equally-grimy cloud still hanging inside the shop. "Of all the people in the Federation, why did it have to be Harry Mudd we're stuck with here?"
Deep inside his mind, Spock allowed a flicker of agreement to arise. While not an actual enemy, the confidence man known as Harcourt Fenton Mudd was extremely irritating to any law-abiding member of the Federation. He was also one of the few people who could make Jim actually angry, as that person's cheerful amorality managed to truly offend the Vulcan's friend.
*Wow. You really call him Jim, just like in the books--- Sorry! Sorry!* The other personality sheepishly withdrew himself from Spock's cool mental reproving for invading his privacy. The Vulcan's attention suddenly switched back to the dustcloud.
A gasping Harry Mudd now staggered out of the haze, totally covered in some kind of coarse dark brown powder that fell from his body in a steady dribble at every step, as the human desperately clawed at his face to get it all off. The utterly miserable young man had weeping slits for eyes, and he alternated from hacking to spitting, as frantic attempts were made to remove whatever material had gotten into his mouth. Startled by Mudd's appearance, the other two officers of the Enterprise could only stare at him, as he lurched past them. Then, Spock and Scotty simultaneously performed an identical reaction.
They both wrinkled their noses at the extremely odiferous pungency now coming from Harry Mudd.
Spock's eye was caught by something in the clump of brown residue that had fallen off Mudd's shoulder as he'd reeled down the corridor, leaving a trail of muck behind him. Kneeling down, the Vulcan gingerly pulled out from the mound a piece of plastic that had once been a sack containing whatever material that now coated every inch of the human's skin. As he stood up again, Spock examined the fraction of lettering that was on the plastic, and his eyebrow rose, as he read, "GardenGro! Fertili--"
"GOSSAMER! SOMEBODY ACTUALLY DRESSED UP AS A CARTOON VERSION OF GOSSAMER!" was screamed behind the Federation officers, as they both spun around in surprise, to see where a manure-covered Harry Mudd had stopped in front of the now-snoring creature still lying peacefully on its stomach, to disbelievingly stare at this being after screeching his statement at the top of his lungs.
Spock allowed a faint frown on his face, as he sent a query to the other in his mind, only to receive a mental shrug, and the message of, *Beats me. I'm an anime fan. It's Warren who likes the classic Warner Brothers cartoons.*
Fifteen minutes later, a fuming Harry/Warren came out of the hardware store restroom, throwing to the floor the wad of paper towels he'd used in an only partially-successful attempt to clean himself up. The young man's mood wasn't improved by the faint grittiness still inside his mouth between his teeth. As he walked towards the other pair of individuals busy at their work at the main corridor of the hardware shop, the teenager's face darkened as he noticed when he got nearer, both of these persons fractionally leaned away from him.
The angry man's attention was distracted by what Scotty/Andrew was doing, once again seated on the floor and busy tinkering with another one of the primitive phasers he'd just created. Frowning, Harry/Warren grumped, "What are you doing? Isn't your little gun working?"
Without looking up from his tricorder, Spock/Jonathan calmly answered for the chief engineer. "We need more than one means of defense when we leave this place."
"What! What're you talking about?" demanded Harry, shooting a nervous glance at the empty space in the corridor where the creature had been, until Spock had dragged the unconscious being out of the shop, into the alley and shoved it inside a large metal trash container that would hopefully contain the sleeping monster in safety. To be precise, their and its wellbeing. Harry indignantly continued, "I thought we were going to stay here, where it's safe!"
"I have come across some most intriguing information," replied Spock, eyeing his tricorder and then looking directly at Harry. "Apparently there is in this city some sort of dimensional nexus, which may have something to do with how we appeared here and inside the bodies of three residents of this community. Most importantly, a second source of extremely peculiar energy is located inside another place fairly close. It was no problem for me to enter the primitive computer systems of this time period and find out what this place is: a recently opened costume shop known as Ethan's."
Harry's jaw dropped in sheer astonishment. He blurted, "That's where those idiot boys got those costumes that brought us here!"
"Indeed. Which in turn may provide an opportunity for us to return to our proper time and bodies. We must investigate this, so we will have to once again venture outside. Only this time, we will bring with us some protection," finished Spock, nodding at where three of Mr. Scott's jury-rigged weapons now rested on the floor.
Harry Mudd could count as well as anyone, as he glowered at the makeshift phasers that were clearly intended for every one of the people in the shop. Firmly shaking his head, he declared, "There's no 'we', me bucko. You're the big heroes. YOU both can investigate and solve the problem. I'll stay here, safe and sound, and think about how to finish separating the suck--. That is, completing the business transaction I was in the middle of when I got shanghaied to this prehistoric cesspool." At that, Harry Mudd crossed his arms and stood in the corridor, looking stubborn.
"Mr. Mudd." The Vulcan's tone was emotionless as usual, but a bit flatter than normal, judging by the surprised glance given him by Scotty. Spock went on, "It may turn out that your presence is necessary to solve how to get back to our homes. I am afraid I must insist you accompany us." As Harry Mudd's mouth opened to tell the Vulcan what he could do with his command, a sudden noise made everyone's head abruptly turn to look at the back door of the shop.
Coming from the outside, a muffled banging and a equally-stifled roar of rage showed that a being having an extremely absurd name had just woken up, and it was not in an amiable mood at finding itself in a locked and very smelly metal box. Commander Spock looked again at a worried Harry Mudd, and the Vulcan merely arched an eyebrow.
Finally admitting defeat, a dejected Harry groaned, "Oh, all right! I'll come!" He glowered at what was on the floor waiting for them, and the confidence man's features twisted into a mirthless grin, as he sardonically said, "Of course, there's a little problem about those things…" Harry's voice trailed off, as he smirkingly watched the other two men also stare with puzzlement at the primitive phasers, until they finally realized their predicament.
The weapons created by Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott had been something of a rush order, which meant he'd had to use whatever was at hand. Which included massive car batteries and a whole heap of other junk, all of which caused every one of the archaic stunners to weigh, at a conservative estimate, over a hundred kilos each.
The only person who could even lift one of the weapons was Spock, who now glanced at Scotty's stricken face, as that man hopefully suggested, "If I have a few minutes, I think I can get the weight down…"
From the back alley, there came the sound of tearing metal, as a furious monster managed to start escaping from its prison.
"I'm afraid there's no time, Mr. Scott. We'll just have to rely on one of these," said Spock, leaning down to pick up one of the phasers. The Vulcan stopped short at Harry's polite and exquisitely sarcastic cough, to stand up again and curiously look at where the human was leaning against a shelf with a supremely insolent smile on his face. Mudd's arm then came up to point with a languid finger at where a row of objects were against a wall of the hardware store, as the man came out with three words, spoken with utter derision.
"What about those?"
Commander Spock then had to say something he'd never thought would be mentioned to Harry Mudd.
"Most logical."
A frantic minute's work later, Spock looked cautiously out of the front door of the hardware shop, only half listening to the final instructions Scotty was giving Harry Mudd. "---and whatever else, DON'T fiddle with the controls!"
The civilian looked with a frown at where his own personal stunner rested in its receptacle. Mr. Scott was now pointing at the rear of the weapon where a knob was set in the one-third position. Looking up at the chief engineer, Harry saw a sheepish expression flit over the Scotsman's face, as that man sighed, and confided in a suddenly-thicker accent that reflected his embarrassment. "I had tae over-engineer this, tae make sure it wuurked. The safety interlocks I got frae Mr. Spock's tricorder will adjust for whatever we havetae shoot, producin' the right amount of stun, so we won't kill anything. But, there's a wee bit of danger if you turn this, since it'll increase the power, and, och, that might be bad. So, dinnae fash it!"
At this last admonishment, Scotty left to go to his own phaser, leaving behind a very thoughtful Harry Mudd. Inside his head, two people came to a true meeting of minds. However as much as both Warren Mears and Harcourt Fenton Mudd detested sharing a brain and body, it was the only one they had. So, it didn't matter whatever Scotty said. If it came to that, they'd turn the phaser to full, and blast away, no matter who got hurt.
As if on cue, the back door of the hardware shop bulged outwards at a savage blow, the crash of this resounding throughout the now-empty shop, as a front door was hurriedly shut, and three young men hastily began their trip through the streets of Sunnydale on Halloween night.
In a line abreast, Commander Spock, Chief Engineer Scott, and Harry Mudd all trotted in the middle of the street, warily watching the sides for any attack, as every one of them pushed before themselves their own clattering shopping cart holding their individual phasers.
