It is just temporary, Reaper thought as he was beamed aboard the USS Olduvai.
Memories of Olduvai returned followed by a sickening feeling in his stomach. It wasn't normal for a transporter. Period. The only time he experienced this feeling from transport was with the ark. Reaper felt like he was soaked all over. Almost like he had stepped out of a bubble. He staggered forward apologizing and then puked below the shoes of the captain. The captain, a woman, frowned at this.
"This doesn't happen all the time." Reaper said, one long pole shaped bag strapped along his shoulder.
"My apologies," Came a African American woman from behind the transporter console. This was Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Tera Bronster. "We are experimenting with making transport more efficient and easier. We did not use the standard form of transport." Reaper took a step aside from the captain then approached the woman. "Mr McCoy."
"What form of transport did you base this on?" Reaper asked.
"The Ark. We decided to incorporate a part of what this starship is named after." Bronster said.
Damn it, Star Fleet!
"Just my luck," Reaper said then turned in the direction of Captain Sim. "Captain, with all due respect, I do not want to lose a arm when I return to the Enterprise."
Nobody on this ship had clearance to know who he really was.
"You will not lose an arm, Doctor McCoy." Sim said.
The doors opened to reveal Commander Skedule, a Romulan defector, with a raised eyebrow.
"Doctor McCoy." Skedule said.
Skedule had black skin, lighter brown hair, and brown eyes. He had pointy ears, upturned bushy eyebrows, and a 'v' shaped forehead. His arms were behind his back with arm bands indicating his rank to be commander. A small rounded machine came out of the wall then cleaned up the mess on the floor in front of the transporter pad. It spun around in circles sucking in the waste. The machine rotated back into the hole into the wall that closed after making the floor squeaky clean.
"Commander Skedule," Reaper said. "Nice to see you again. But not surprisingly on a science vessel."
Skedule stepped forward lowering his eyebrow and his face clearly read anger only to be stopped by Sim's arm.
"I take it you met before." Sim said.
"Long, long time ago." Skedule said.
"You have to get along, Doctor McCoy and Mr Skedule," Sim said, lowering her arm down. "And get over your differences. That is an order."
"Yes, sir." The two said, glaring at one another.
Deck five is where the transporter room, med bay, and most of the senior officers quarters were. Reaper's quarters were 119 beside the captain's quarters. Star Fleet had a tendency to destroy starships that were top secret and classified. Somewhere far off where no one would bother to go. If Reaper didn't know better he would say they had a hobby of building several starships after the loss of many in 2258. There were four hundred thirty-two people aboard the starship. Unlike the Enterprise they had dark barely lit halls and the walls were a dark shade of gray. The floorboards glowed underneath their feet. Skedule was assigned to give him a tour of the starship but their first stop was in a large laboratory that was wide and huge but mostly in use by likely a hundred scientists.
There were tubes holding floating figures.
"This is the main 'mad men' laboratory," Skedule said.
Courtney Sabataur, the head scientist, stood in front of a table that had a child sitting on with tentacles spreading out of the back.
"What the hell did you do to that child?" Reaper asked, coming to the side of Sabataur.
Sabataur turned away holding a padd in her hand.
"Doctor McCoy," Sabataur said. "We are doing out of science and it is harmless."
"Hey kid." Reaper said.
The child looked over his shoulder in the direction of Reaper with eyes that were alien like ripped out of the 21st century movie coverage. Reaper stepped back at first then looked over in horror in the direction of Sabataur. He had seen this kind of infliction before a long, long time ago. He stepped back. Reaper could hear a little boy's voice in his head reply, "Hello."
"What the hell is this, Miss Sabataur?" Reaper said.
"We are undergoing testing for the first telepathic octopus humanoid." Sabataur said.
"That is not the first." Reaper said.
"Yes, it is." Sabataur said.
Memories of Hell Mary returned to Reaper's mind. One mistake. Bringing a teenager while seeking for a cure to his immortality and the teenager was the unfortunate subject to being a willing participant in a experiment that disfigured the boy and turned him into a monster. The boy would have wanted Reaper to kill his comatose body that was rampaging. Joseph Theron. The boy spoke in sign language and he was a human strangely part octopus. He had taken the boy under his wing. And he failed him. He walked with guilt on his shoulders.
"My name is Zachary 474T8." Zachary's voice came in telepathy.
"We call him four thousand seven-hundred-forty-eight for short." Sabataur said.
"That is unacceptable," Reaper said. "He should have a last name. Why don't you give this boy a damn last name? If I am goin' to be here then you are not goin' to treat people like test subjects, I don't care if he was bio-engineered or cloned to be a calm participant but that does not mean he should be given a number as a name! If I am going to be here and ensuin' your safety, start callin' him Zachary Theron!"
"Zachary Theron." Zachary said, just to try out how it sounded in his voice.
"He is a mute." Sabataur's assistant, a red head Bob Dzoingwell, said.
"And he doesn't get a last name." Sabataur said.
"I do not care but I am a advocate for kids like him." Reaper said.
"This test subject will go where they all go," Sabataur said. "If we name them then we get too close and compromise our integrity with the test. It makes us go blind. The last scientist who named one of these test subjects died in the Hell Mary incident a few years back. They are not meant to be near star base science communities and in space on a starship is their natural habitat. We have a starship built specifically for the experimentation of mutants to see how our civilization will fare with people like-"
"Theron." Reaper said.
"The test subject. If we can get rid of these tentacles in further genetic engineering and studying, we can prevent beastazoids from being disfigured." Sabataur said.
"Disfigured?" Reaper asked.
"That's what people like-" Sabataur was cut off by Reaper .
"Theron." Reaper said.
"Are called," Sabataur finished. "Disfigured Beastazoids."
Reaper had a disgusted expression on his face then he went out.
"Miss Sabataur. . ." Skedule said. "We will talk after I finish this tour with Doctor McCoy."
"Good luck with Doctor McCoy," Kirk said. "He will make you regret stepping foot on a island made of carnivores plants."
Skedule was still showing Reaper around.
"I expect nothing short, Captain Kirk." Sim said.
The young man smiled back, a rather attractive smile may Sim note, that was beaming and compassionate.
"See you in two months, Captain Sim," Kirk said. "Kirk out."
"Warp six," Sim said, as Lieutenant Charn Yang moved the level up forwards. "Take us to our next destination, Mr Yang."
"Aye aye, captain." Yang said.
The Olduvai II dashed out of the Enterprise view screen in a different direction. For some reason, Kirk had a strange feeling setting in his gut. It was like the next time he would see this starship it would be in poor condition. Something did not feel right. He gave the order to go on their next mission, and then they too, went into warp in a different direction that the Olduvai II had not gone. Spock looked over on the console where he saw a alert indicating someone had hacked into the private file system. It was unusual. Perhaps Dorian had some explaining to do. It was logical that Reaper had Dorian hack and display the files of the Olduvai crew members.
Chekov entered sick bay with a hand he had burned.
"Doctor, I accidentally spilled water over Sulu's fire plant and it burned me." Chekov said, holding his arm up expecting to see Doctor McCoy.
"Get on the biobed and sit still." Came M'Benga's voice.
Chekov saw M'Benga walking away from the desk taking out a hypospray.
"Where is Doctor McCoy?" Chekov asked, coming over to the nearby biobed.
M'Benga shed a smile.
"He is on a mission for a little while," M'Benga said. "For now, I am in charge."
M'Benga hypoed Chekov then began to wrap up the burned hand with bandages.
"How long?" Chekov asked, feeling a bit woozy from the hypo.
"It depends on the success of the mission." M'Benga said.
"Captain,Theron will be transferred in the next two days to the Disability Beastazoid starship." Skedule said, standing in front of the desk in her cabin.
Sim looked up.
"Who is Theron?" Sim asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"Zachary." Skedule said.
Sim lowered her eyebrow then turned her attention down in the direction of her drink.
"The telepath," She picked up the cup and took a sip. She lowered it down. "I suppose this does not have to do with the doctor."
"It does," Skedule said. "He brought up a good point. It humanizes these sapient test subjects."
"We are not the ones in charge of them." Sim said, looking up in the direction of Skedule.
"But we are in charge of protecting them." Skedule said.
Sim put the cup down.
"Commander," Sim said. "We have to respect their wishes. Our task is to make sure that the Klingons, Romulans, Telethions, Basketions and all those sapient human relatednbeings do not at all attempt to take what research has been gathered from the lab." She stood up. "This is a temporary mission. I used to eat classified for breakfast but it is best we don't poke our noses into what they are doing or make any changes. If any changes are to be made, Star Fleet should make the decisions not us. You could get a glowing review and become a captain. You have the skill set to be one."
"My reputation does not allow me to become captain." Skedule said.
"Does it have to do with Doctor McCoy?" Sim asked.
"I was court martialed for my failure in preventing it and allowing countless others." Skedule said.
"So I take it as a yes." Sim said.
"Even if you left me a review that highlighted my skills it would be a waste of your efforts," He sat down into the chair in front of the desk. "My next mission will be infiltrating a Romulan starship attempting to recreate the matter that destroyed Vulcan and stop it. Rumors are only circulating the mill about now. Rumors circulate it will be beginning in the next five months."
"You have bloods on your hands." Sim said.
"Affirnative." Skedule said.
"And you are going right back where you came from. Where you deflected." Sim said, bitterly.
"Temporary." Skedule said.
"I hate for you to be skinned for aiding in Star Fleet's missions. I can only wish that temporary is only temporary," Sim said, shaking her head with her eyes lowered. She looked up in the direction of the Romulan. "Speaking of which. . . Why did you leave Romulus?"
"I met my older counterpart . . ." There was a pause. "He had told me my current career trek would do me no good. He said a star trek would be much better than what I was doing. He had been in the way when my could-have-been-assassin shot the disruptor at his direction. He acted as a shield. He landed in my arms and requested a mind meld. Mind melds are not capable of being done by Romulans."
"I can picture the eyebrow raising." Sim said, bitterly.
"So I allowed him." Skedule said.
"You allowed him?" Sim asked, raising her eyebrows.
Skedule nodded.
"Surprising as it was, mind melding with another Romulan is a opportunity that one cannot pass up." Sim laughed then took a sip of her drink lowering both eyebrows. "I saw his mistakes and how he became a figure that despised by almost everyone out and in the federation. The kind of enemies that would normally get a human killed for messing in the matters that they should not be in. He was an Ambassador. He had traveled to this universe via a machine that broke upon his arrival."
"And seeing his mistakes did not bother you?" Sim asked.
"I will not make them. This is my life and I am not making the galaxy my enemy." Skedule said.
"There's a terran saying: the enemy of my enemy is my frenemy." Sim said.
Sim took a sip of her drink.
"Or friend." Skedule said.
"That too." Sim said, with a nod.
"You are scared of my chances of dying in this mission. That is impossible." Skedule said.
"I hate to see a man like you go to waste." Sim said.
"I am a Romulan, not a man, and if you insult me like that again then I will reconsider the perimeters of our relationship," Skedule said, standing up with a frown. "I have no time for name calling."
Sim placed her cup down then approached the Romulan with a sigh.
"We are one step away from even having a relationship," Sim said. "And you keep pushing me away."
"It is best that you do not associate yourself to someone who's race will become a un-trusted source in the near future. Any offspring that come between a Romulan and a human will not fair in a galaxy this dark," Skedule started to walk out of the room. "I will not allow you to throw yourself upon me. It is highly illogical." Sim put one hand on his shoulder making him turn toward her direction. "Captain-"
Sim brought the Romulan into a kiss, her shoulders lowered down, and their eyes were closed. They must have continued this rather unexpected kiss for at least a given five minutes. Sim's hands traveled to his shoulders right to the sides where she let go of the kiss and gave both of them breathing distance squeezing his shoulders.
"I want to grow old with you,Commander," Sim said. "Not with the idea of what could have been. I want to have your children. I have known you for ten years on my previous assignment." She was looking him in the eyes right about now. "I love you."
"As you understand: I will out live you in the chances that I survive my current career trek in Star Fleet that comes with death over my head," Skedule said, as her hands slid down off his shoulders once letting go of them. "I cannot have you nor can you have me."
Sim appeared to be hurt, but mostly in disbelief.
"But can it be possible that one human matters to one Romulan more than anyone they knew?" Sim said. "Never forgotten."
"They are stories." Skedule said, as Sim's grip had loosened on his shoulders.
"We could be stories ourselves one day," Sim said. "I want our story to tell the truth."
"Much as it pains me," Skedule said. "I am sorry."
Skedule walked out of her quarters leaving the emotionally pained woman in her cabin with the doors closing behind him afterwards.