Chapter 4: The Real Battlefield
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Back in the little conference room, Uhura paced the floor around the low table, fanning herself and agitatedly glancing at the door. Doctor McCoy sat on one edge, nursing his black eye with the bandages and leftover whiskey. Chekov was curled up in a ball on one corner of the room, fast asleep. Sulu paced the other side of the table.
"If you two don't cut out that darned pacing, I'll have to sedate you both and tie you up next to Chekov."
Uhura sat down on the edge of the table. "I'm sick of this waiting. Where's the Captain? Where's Spock? What have those maniacs done with them?" She gave a voice to the anxiety they were all feeling. As they were, the group was in no condition to find out, even if they could escape their prison.
McCoy lay back on the table and stretched his arms. "Y'know, I have no idea. But pacing up and down and driving me crazy won't help them any." He was trying to appear calm, now that the immediate crisis of Chekov's illness had passed, but he was worried. If they had a handle on the situation, Spock and Jim would've come for us by now. It's been hours. And Jim wasn't doin' too well before all this nonsense. No telling how he is now… McCoy shook the thought from his head. Imagining his friend in the hands of that "Doctor" had nearly worried him to pieces on the march back from the Sickbay. There had only been one patient in the Sawbones' domain, but he was dressed the same way Jim was when he'd last seen him. But, everyone is issued that black shirt. Chekov's wearing one, and so am I. So is Sulu. It could be literally anyone. No need to fuss over what you can't control. It was the lack of control that was getting to him the most. He was used to working under set conditions in an environment he knew like the back of his hand. He would give almost anything to be in Sickbay, even imprisoned by these lunatics, but in his own Sickbay. He'd clear out the instruments of torture the Other Doctor'd brought along with him, and properly physic the daylights out of Sulu and Chekov and, heck, even make Uhura do a full physical scan to make sure she was alright. It was in this nerve-racked state that he rolled onto one side, remembered his damaged shoulder, and rolled back over again, thanking the good Lord his mama hadn't had twins.
Uhura had nothing to say to McCoy's complaint, so she kept quiet as he'd closed his eyes and attempted to doze. How can he sit there so calmly while the Captain and Spock are out there somewhere? What about the rest of the crew? Where are they? I haven't seen anyone outside that door except the gold-sashed security team. They aren't too chatty either, or I'd try listening through the door.
She crossed and uncrossed her legs anxiously. All this waiting was driving her insane. She could appreciate how Sulu felt in the silence earlier. At least he had the steady beat of his own footsteps to fill the silence and ease his own mind now. Thanks to McCoy, she couldn't offer herself the same shallow comfort. The man could get seasick in the Gobi Desert. He probably gets space sick just walking into Starfleet HQ. Huh I can't believe he isn't sick to his stomach now. Look at him. He's just lying there, taking a snooze, while the Captain and Spock are who-knows-where and there's nothing we can do about it. She began reciting poetry in her head. Romulan, Klingon, Andorian. She skipped over Vulcan in order to keep her train of thought, but failed. Spock always liked to hear those old Vulcan writings. Not poetry, but logical observation. Beautiful in its simplicity and straightforwardness. Kind of like him…Suddenly, Her silent musings were interrupted by the Doctor, who cleared his throat loudly.
Oh I could just about kill him.
"You, know, I'm worried about 'em too." Uhura looked over to Doctor McCoy who had not moved a muscle, but still laid there, eyes closed.
"Yeah. We're all worried. So what do we do about it?"
"The way I figure, we sit here and wait. No matter how much I dislike the idea, the ball's in their court now. We can't make a move unless they make one first."
The more Uhura thought about this the more it made sense. There was nothing they could do within the conference room. Sulu would be questionable in a fight with only one usable arm, and Chekov would be absolutely worthless in his current state. And every man we've seen so far has been armed. Escaping could be a real problem unless an opportunity presented itself.
Outside, someone was walking up to the room. Uhura could hear the slow footsteps and the call of the guard. It was followed shortly by a muffled cry, another set of quick footsteps, and a thud. Suddenly, the door slid open, and someone fell through the entry. McCoy sat up quickly and stared wide-eyed at the doorway.
"Jim!" He rushed to the body on the floor. Turning the Captain over and cradling his head in his lap, McCoy did a quick examination, vitals: pulse, heartbeat, and breathing. "Oh, good." McCoy sighed and his shoulders dropped, visibly relieved. "He's still alive, but…. Totally unconscious. This is strange. He's nearly comatose. I don't understand how he could have…." A shadow passed over the Doctor and the Captain. Everyone looked up. Uhura gasped and…Uhura gasped.
She was standing only a few feet away from her own doppelganger. Both seemed alarmed at the sight of the other. Uhura noticed that her twin wore the gold sash like her crewmates, but the uniform was different even from her comrades. The Other Uhura's was a two pieced uniform, one half being a skirt and the other a shortened uniform shirt with only one sleeve. Her hair was shorter than Uhura's, and she had bangs. This Other Uhura also carried one of those phaser weapons. Doctor McCoy, being the closest to the door, noticed before anyone else did.
"You… You, uh, took out the guard…" he stated dumbly, half shocked and half in-shock from the recovery of his closest friend.
It was true. The security officer lay outside the door, either unconscious or dead. Sulu took one look at the phaser-weapon and stepped forward. With all of this violence, torture, and death, maybe it was time to try a different approach: diplomacy. "As a show of good faith," he began, "How about you put that down?"
The Other Uhura smirked. "How about as a show of good faith I give you back your Captain, alive and relatively unharmed? There he is, Doctor. Found 'im in one of the smaller rooms on the upper decks." She turned to Uhura next. "I saw your Mr. Spock too." Seeing the look on Uhura's face, she smiled gently and continued, "Don't worry, he's alright for now. I saw him with my Spock and the Captain heading for the bridge. If we hurry, we can catch them before the Captain gets his hands on those codes."
Doctor McCoy stood up. From the subtle keys in her phrasing, mainly "my Spock" and "the Captain", he could tell with whom she placed her loyalty. This information could come in handy later, like when he found out where the Sawbones was concerned in all of this. But, in the interest of new information, he encouraged her. "Codes? What codes?"
The other Uhura looked at him blankly. "Don't you know? Did they not question you? The computer codes to your Enterprise."
SPOCK:
The lift doors slid open and revealed the bridge, empty, but intact in all its barbaric glory. Everything fell into place at last. Spock's suspicions were confirmed. The Other Captain stepped out of the lift first. He strode onto the abandoned bridge with an unusual spring in his step. Suddenly he turned on his heel and faced Spock.
"Welcome to my bridge, Mr. Spock. You'll find it very much like your own. Actually, that's what I'm counting on."
"I see. So this is your Enterprise. I was correct. You intend to take over our Enterprise, do you not, for your own nefarious purposes?"
The Other Kirk looked stunned for an instant, and then his face changed immediately to appear pleasantly surprised. "Nefarious, Mr. Spock? I doubt that 'nefarious' the correct word. I'd go more along the lines of….diabolical." He cackled. It was laughter so similar to his own Captain's, but laced with an evil chill that seemed to suck the air out of the room. It was the brutal laughter of a man unhinged, gone far beyond the state of being human, even. The light in his eyes betrayed his madness. The intoxication of power had overwhelmed this Captain in a universe that encouraged such things above all others. He had finally cracked under the twisted system. But, insanity or no, this Captain was still as cunning and ruthless as he ever was, and could ever be. His quest for power had not dulled his ability to act. In fact, Spock realized, it had resolved him. As this realization came about, the Other Kirk continued.
"You see, Mr. Spock, this isn't about you, or your Enterprise, or even your pathetic Federation. It's about me and my ship and the Empire. My Empire, mind you. It could've been. Oh, yes! High Senator Kirk. Caesar, even, in a matter of months." He paced back and forth by the side of the Captain's chair while Spock stood by, his expression composed and blank.
"I would've been on top of the world, head honcho of the galaxy, of all the known galaxies, if it hadn't been for that… That insurgent. That malevolent demon John Harrison! A 'peacekeeper', he called himself! He offered new life to the peoples of the Empire. New life and freedom! Imagine that! I ask you, what is peace to the conqueror? We were living it up, just fine and dandy, collecting tributes, exacting punishment and revenge, destroying worlds… If it hadn't been for that Harrison, the Empire would be as it should be: indestructible, in control, with me in charge."
The Other Kirk spun around and walked toward Spock. He was shaking with rage. His anger and the obvious parallel between the Harrisons of each universe were not lost on Spock. No, he was merely forced to listen while the Other Kirk raved. He had to bide his time. Surely, an opportunity would present itself. He only had to be patient.
"Oh, yes. Total control of the Empire…! I was close, but, no. Not with Harrison and his corruption! The High Council was dissolved into a Coalition of peace and democracy!" He cackled in disbelief. "Democracy! Can you believe..? I wouldn't stand for it, oh no, not me. Not James T Kirk. James T Kirk would not stand for democracy!" He brought his fist down onto the rail releasing, and then recollecting, his frustration.
"So, I attacked the seat of the Empire. But, that Harrison- Khan they're calling him now, some sort of ancient king's title- Sent the whole fleet after me. Aaaand that's why we're here, in your universe. To fix what was broken, replace what was lost. Our scatterbrained Mr. Scott managed to figure out the science behind all this-"He spread his arms at the screen, indicating Spock's universe, Spock's Enterprise off in the distance. "You know: the science we needed to make the jump. A tricky little affair it was, too. You should've seen Scotty working the engines like a little madman. After we 'unloaded' the disloyal crew, he had a difficult time keeping up appearances… Ah well. But, oh, it was brilliant, wasn't it? Masquerading as the ship my – oh and your Kirk's too, 'scuze me- dear old daddy bought it in? I figured the goody-two-shoes version of me wouldn't be able to resist. Couldn't keep away personally, but duty might cause him to keep back, maybe? But, no! Oh no, we were lucky! The best part is his friends- you guys, his friends- condemned him to watch as I destroy everything that's his. That's the best part. The best part for me." The Other Kirk took one last long look at the screen and the Enterprise that he planned to conquer before turning back to face Spock.
"Now, if you'll please accompany me, Mr. Spock…" He held up his hand, "No, not you, Mr. Spock." In the blink of an eye, the Other Kirk drew a small box-like device from his sash and pressed a large red button. Spock waited, but nothing happened. When the Other Kirk began to chuckle, Spock looked around. To his near astonishment, he saw that the Other Spock stood frozen behind him.
"Do you like it, Mr. Spock?" Kirk waved the little box in his first officer's face. "I call it my 'Immobilizer'! Zap!" he danced around his First's frozen body with child-like glee. "Isn't it cute? I had Mr. Scott whip it up for me. I bet he modified it so it wouldn't to respond to his DNA, the sneaky little… Oh well. It only needed to work once." He stalked around the Other Spock with a fierce look in his eyes. "I've known, Spock, I've known about you. You've been on Harrison's side the whole time. Your blasted Vulcan logic, that's what did you in. Hmph. Fate sealed by your own philosophy. Well. Goodbye, Mr. Spock." The Other Captain turned to face Spock once again.
"Come along, Mr. Spock. I believe we will have an understanding. You will treat me as you always did your old Captain- your crew needs to be none the wiser- and I won't have Sawbones dismember them. Oh, the good Doctor is every bit as capable with, say, a bone saw as yours is with hypospray. I'm sure he'd love to be able to split a few guts, maybe even do a bit of torture. So, just to re-cap, you make like everything's fine and dandy, and I don't kill your crew in terrible ways your innocent mind couldn't even begin to imagine. Deal?"