A/N: This chapter is based on "The Naked Time" episode. This chapter is the first half of the episode.
Position: Orbiting Planet PSI 2000
Description: Frozen wasteland about to rip apart.
Mission: Pick up the scientific party below and observe the disintegration of the planet.
Stardate 1704.2
Mr. Spock, crewman Tormolen, and I are beamed down to the frozen planet below – the former homeland of an ancient world. I am thrilled Mr. Spock suggested I tag along to see the science station for myself. The loose fitting radiation suits we wear are made from a blood-orange material, a gauze of silver ringlets is sewn over the head-masks, suits, and matching gloves. As soon as we materialize into the planet's space station, the artic nips at me through my protective gear.
The room we beam into is iced over in fluffy white. Directly in front of us a body sits frozen, its arms stretched wide across what was once an engineering panel. Turning 180 degrees, it becomes glaringly obvious a catastrophe struck this science post. From our central position in the room we have an unobstructed view into the snow-piled room across from us.
Mr. Spock instructs the crewman to check the life support system; it is then that he notices my fixed stare. On the floor in the room across from me is the frozen corpse of a short-haired woman, her body positioned oddly, her arms splayed out at her sides. Mr. Spock kneels close and scans the area around the deceased woman with a large orange-and-grey device resembling an oversized hairdryer.
"What happened to her?" I ask as Tormolen returns to our company.
"All life systems were off, sir." Reports the crewman.
Answering my question, Mr. Spock continues "Someone strangled this woman."
"The other four are back there."
"Dead?"
"Right, sir." Tormolen informs us of the peculiar activities the crew was performing at the time of their deaths, such as taking a shower fully clothed.
Mr. Spock and I leave to confirm the crewman's report though I'm sure neither of us doubts the man's words. Something clearly very wrong happened here. We check the rest of the station quickly locating the fully dressed man frozen in time under a showerhead.
"Everyone's dead." I think aloud, feeling as if my stomach were trying to digest a leaden stone. Six people are dead.
"Are you alright, Ms. Echo?"
"Yeah." I say turning to the First Officer. "It's just creepy the way they died. Like they were completely out of it. And that lady, someone murdered her. Most likely at the hands of one of the now frozen crewmembers."
"Yes." He nods pensively. "It could be some unknown type of space madness. We must reconvene with Tormolen and report back to the Enterprise."
We find the crewman at the engineering station.
"Be certain we expose ourselves to nothing," Mr. Spock orders us. "Spock here," he calls over his communicator. "Do you read Enterprise?"
The Captain affirms and Mr. Spock reports the deaths of all station personnel. Kirk asks for the cause of death to which the First Officer answers ominously, "It's like nothing we've dealt with before."
Scotty beams us up but Mr. Spock stops Tormolen from stepping off the beaming platform, asking Mr. Scott to decontaminate us first. The odd tingling sensation from beaming is barely receding when the flashing light of the decontamination process begins.
In sickbay Mr. Spock and I wait patiently for Joe Tormolen's examination to be complete. My own examination, which concluded just minutes ago, came up normal – for me. Mr. Spock stands awaiting his turn in standard black slacks, however, his usual blue-and-gold trimmed uniform shirt rests on the back of a chair. Thus, he stands beside me in the most appealing attire made up entirely of black. The taut dark t-shirt normally hidden beneath his usual blue shirt reveals beautifully sculpted biceps and forearms. A sudden heat creeps up my cheeks and I pray no one notices. Sneaking a glance at him again, I am rewarded with the glorious view of his slightly protruding pectoral and abdominal musculature. I feel myself swooning and thank my lucky stars all eyes are trained on Joe and the results of his examination on the screen above his head. I fight for self-composure and chastise myself for entertaining fantasies about Mr. Spock rated very "Mature".
I am so relieved my medical examination was first, otherwise everyone present would be privy to the erratic hammering of my heart and my increasing body temperature.
Mr. Spock lies on the padded examination table. Automatically, the medical machines begin beeping in alarm. None of the white arrows on the medical monitor fall between the green areas of the chart and many fall hazardously low in the red area of the spectrum – or at least the area of the spectrum considered dangerous for humans.
"Your pulse is 242. Your blood pressure is practically nonexistent." Doc reports in disdain, "assuming you call that green stuff in your veins blood."
Mr. Spock pulls himself up in clear irritation – even if he would never admit to such a human emotion. "The readings are perfectly normal for me, Doctor. Thank you. As for my anatomy being different from yours, I am delighted" he retorts.
Ouch. Those two should never be left in a room alone with each other.
The door connecting sickbay to the corridor whooshes open and Captain Kirk enters, his stride unbroken. He inquires about our health and Doc assures him we are fine. With all eyes trained on the Captain I risk another glance at Mr. Spock's solid figure, wishing he would continue to walk around in the black shirt that offers me such teasing glimpses of the athletic body hidden beneath. I restrain a sigh of disappointment as he begins slipping his usual Starfleet uniform on.
Joe interrupts Doc's response to Captain Kirk with a terrified and befuddled tone, deeply affected by the terrible fate of the science crew on PSI 2000. He is unable to stop himself from voicing his doubts on man's place in the universe - if we really belong out in space. The Captain expertly calms the man, even making him break out in a smile.
Captain Kirk turns his attention to Mr. Spock for any ideas as to what may have happened at the space station. I turn to face Mr. Spock as well and find him in the middle of pulling the last section of his sky blue uniform over his trim waist. The hummingbird in my chest flails against my ribcage and I will it to stop.
"I wish I could say, Captain. The circumstances were quite bizarre," his brow creases at the peculiarity of the fatal situation that befell the scientific team. "However, our record tapes may show us something."
Again, the man interrupts, his voice rising in hysterics. "Six dead. Six people dead."
Captain Kirk half-suggests and half-commands Tormolen to take a rest. "Set up those tapes, Mr. Spock. We'll see if the answers are on there." He eyes me and smiles. "You seem to be taking all this rather well."
"Thank you, Captain." I answer. "If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."
His eyes approve of my response and he orders me to aid Mr. Spock in whatever he deems necessary. Mr. Spock raises his brows at me in surprise at the Captain's unusual request before following Kirk's retreating form. I wave good bye to Doc before hurrying to my newly assigned post beside Mr. Spock. Doc's bemused expressions is the last thing I see of the infirmary.
I stand to the side of Mr. Spock with a stack of colorful square record tapes in my palm, ready to hand them over. Dr. McCoy and Scotty focus on the little monitors installed on the highly polished table top. Captain Kirk sits somewhat patiently, his fingers interlaced and propped up on the cool surface of the table.
"Next tape, please."
"Spectro-analysis tape, sir." I pass the blue tape to his outstretched hand getting into my role of science assistant.
"Thank you." He flips a switch on the control panel. The recording of the snow covered engineering station we first beamed into flashes on the larger multi-faced monitor in the middle of the conference table. Captain Kirk studies the troubled faces of his staff.
"Almost as though they were irrational, drugged. An engineer sitting there apparently oblivious to everything. A woman strangled, a crewman with a phaser pistol in his hand –"
"He'd used the computer room as if it were an amusement gallery." Adds Mr. Spock.
"And a fully clothed man frozen to death in a shower. If the image wasn't so ugly, it'd be laughable." He turns his attention to his chief officers asking for theories on what could have happened to the science crew of the observation station below.
Doc says the bio-analysis on the tapes confirm that no form of drugs or intoxication provoked the chilling end of the science crew. Mr. Spock offers the possibility of some sort of unknown space madness, though he adds, it would have needed to be caused by something. The spectro-readings reveal no contamination or unusual elements present.
"Or at least not any your tricorders could register," Mr. Scott interjects.
"Instruments register only those things they're designed to register. Space still contains infinite unknowns." He reminds the Chief Engineer.
Captain Kirk directs the conversation back to the current mission of the Enterprise: to record the closest possible measurements of the breakup of planet PSI 2000. The planet resembles Earth in size and mass so the information could reflect the destruction pattern planet Earth will experience someday. To gather the required data we need to maintain the ship in a critically tight orbit around the planet. As the individual responsible for the hundreds of lives aboard the ship, Captain Kirk poses the question he needs answering: "Could what happened down there to those people create any unusual danger to this vessel and crew?"
The men stir uncomfortably in their chairs unsure of how to answer. Mr. Spock mentions the necessity of top-efficiency in order to escape the inevitable danger that will occur when the planet is eventually destroyed. Rather peeved by the lack of straight forward answers to his question, Captain Kirk snaps at his officers. Scotty assures his engines can pull us out of any trouble within a half-second unless the people on the bridge start taking showers with their clothes on.
Lieutenant Uhura radios in from the bridge. The scanners report a sudden shift in the planet's magnetic field as well as a change in mass.
"It's beginning." Says Mr. Spock knowingly. "The unusual shifts will become more frequent and dangerous."
Captain Kirk acknowledges the bridge's report then address Mr. Scott. "I hold you to that half-second, Scotty." His departure calls and end to the meeting.
The Senior Officers return to their respective posts and I to my room. Reclining on my bed trying to jot down my thoughts on paper, my mind returns to crewman Tormolen. It strikes me as odd that an experienced, or at least trained crewman, is so heavily affected by the deaths of six personnel. Though he showed no signs of familiarity towards any of them, maybe he did indeed have a loved one among the deceased. Or maybe something is wrong with me. Should I have been more affected? No. I don't think so. I find the loss of human life saddening and the fact that the woman on the base was strangled horrific and utterly sickening, but I feel no impulse to doubt or fear exploration into the unknown territory of space. Tormolen seems to have deep rooted qualms about this matter, however.
A blooping sound I haven't heard in a while comes from my computer, pulling me away from my thoughts. I roll lazily off the bed, rumpling the sheets beneath me as I go. Leaning into the desk I read the following:
Ms. Echo, please report to the bridge.
I frown at the message wondering what prompted him to use this method of communication. He's only corresponded through instant messaging with me on two occasions. I type in my acknowledgement and head for the turbolift.
Stepping out onto the bridge I nearly collide with a guy in gold.
"Whoopsie daisy, pardon me pretty lady." The perspiring man apologizes in a sing-song voice. "And what a pretty lady you are!"
"Excuse me?" I edge around him confused.
"What is your name, oh fair maiden?" He coos in a slight Irish accent.
"That is enough, Mr. Riley. Report to sickbay immediately," Mr. Spock thunders authoritatively.
"Sickbay? Exactly where I was headed, sir." He turns on the balls of his feet.
"Lt. Uhura, take over his station." Commands the First Officer.
"Now that's what I like. Let the women work too. Universal suffrage!" Mr. Riley wags his finger dangerously in Spock's direction.
"Report to sickbay, Mr. Riley." Mr. Spock is at his wits end and the man in gold finally steps into the turbolift.
I am glad to have survived without any physical contact with the madman.
"Security, Mr. Riley is headed for sickbay. See to it he arrives." Mr. Spock instructs from the communication panel on the arm of the Captain's chair. "Captain Kirk to the bridge."
"You asked for me." I approach the towering Vulcan.
"Yes. I must know if you remember crewman Tormolen do anything against orders or regulations while on PSI 2000."
"I wouldn't know. I was with you the whole time. I can't account for what he may or may not have done when he was out of sight."
"Thank you. I needed to confirm you did not bear witness to a breach in protocol."
"Why?"
"Since our return from the planet, Mr. Tormolen's actions became increasingly erratic. There was a mild confrontation involving him and two other crewmen. Tormolen turned a knife on himself."
"Oh jeeze." I feel nauseated. Having gone through depression myself I know there has to be some documented history of his struggle in his on-file psych-evaluation. "Was he considered suicidal?"
Looking around the room he steers us off to the side and out of range of prying ears. He draws me near and continues in hushed words, "I have gone through his psychiatric file and though he was confused and self-tortured with a high capacity for self-doubt, according to what I have observed from his behavior, it is doubtful he meant to hurt himself. Something caused this shift in behavior but it is unclear what." He continues wryly, "As you have just witnessed, Mr. Riley also appears to be driven by erratic behavior. Riley was the second man involved in the altercation with Tormolen, and Mr. Sulu – who has decided to disappear – was the third. This correlation between the three men and their recent behavior is troubling."
"I'll say. Have Mr. Riley or Mr. Sulu demonstrated violent behavior?"
"We've received no reports" he answers, moving to sit in the Captain's chair. He relieves Uhura from her temporary post at the navigation station so she may return to the communications console.
We're discussing the possible implications of some sort of contagion that targets neurons when Captain Kirk strides through the door. At the sound of his voice Mr. Spock vacates the chair to hand over command.
"What are the symptoms?" inquires Captain Kirk, taking his seat.
Mr. Spock informs him that neither Sulu nor Riley have been violent, though slightly disoriented. Kirk adds irrational and drugged behavior to the list; his intense gaze remains fixated on the First Officer.
"Precisely," confirms Mr. Spock, well aware that three members of our crew are now exhibiting senseless and reckless behavior similar to the tragically dead science party below. We share a look, knowing what the Captain's next command will be.
"Security alert, Lt. Uhura." Kirk orders with a slight frown. "Both Sulu and Riley, locate and confine. I want every crewman who comes in contact with them medically checked."
Uhura whirls in her seat, her finger on the earpiece she wears constantly. "Sir, level two, corridor three reports a disturbance. Mr. Sulu chasing crewmen with a sword." Her eyes meet the commander's in befuddlement.
"Are you sure it's not a rapier?" I ask remembering Mr. Sulu bragging about his skill in the corridor earlier today.
"Put security on it."
"Fascinating." Mr. Spock leans against the Captain's chair, his handsome features captivated. "A pattern is developing." He explains Tormolen's hidden personality traits rising in fatal force, then Riley who believes himself to be the descendent of Irish kings. And now Sulu, who "is at heart a swashbuckler" out of our eighteenth century."
At the same moment I honk in laughter at the mental image of Mr. Sulu in a tall feathered hat, the ship is rocked forcefully to the side, nearly toppling me off my feet.
Mr. Spock dashes to the science computer and Captain Kirk asks for the present condition of the planet we are observing. A muffled alarm emitting from some place aboard the bridge goes off and the helmsman and navigator work their post diligently. From his station, Mr. Spock shouts that the gravitational pull of the planet is increasing but we can stabilize our position with a two percent shift. However, the helm isn't answering to control and we continue careening at breakneck speed toward the planet below.
Kirk springs to his feet. "Warp us out of here."
But the engines don't respond. Mr. Spock's long strides have him at our side by the helm in a second. The Captain orders the use of impulse power to blast us out of orbit but again there is trouble with the necessary engines – they're dead.
The First Officer presses the intercom button that has a direct line to the engine room. "We need power!" He demands.
There's no response, only the continued muffled beeping of an alarm on the bridge cutting through the air. Captain Kirk attempts to reach Mr. Scott through another channel from the Captain's chair but there is no response.
"Take her." Commands Kirk, referring to the command of the ship. He dashes for the turbolift and Mr. Spock takes a seat on the executive chair.
Mr. Spock opens his mouth to say something to me but a shout stops him short.
"Richelieu, at last!" The young Asian helmsman stands in a sparring position, his bare chest glistens with sweat as his left hand brandishes a rapier.
"Crap." He's lost his mind. Sulu would never point so much as a finger at his Captain, let alone a blade.
"Sulu, put that –" Captain tries to push the weapon pointed at his face away but only manages to nick his palm. "Put that thing away."
I can't see the Captain's face from my spot in the pit of the bridge but I can feel his annoyance all the way over here.
Sulu prepares to engage in a sparring match between him and Captain Kirk for "honor, queen, and France!" He jabs at Kirk nearly striking Uhura after his target dodges out of the way. Mr. Spock moves to advance on Sulu, but with a deadly rapier pointed at his chest by a delusional helmsman, he stops in his tracks realizing that course of action would be ineffective and illogical. Mr. Sulu begins swishing the sharp instrument wildly through the air. Uhura calls to him, attempting to calm him and convince him to give her the rapier. She takes a step toward him.
No! But it's too late to shout. Sulu yanks my friend to his side and fastens his arm around her waist.
"I'll protect you, fair maiden."
Apparently Uhura is just as irked by the sexist comment because she struggles furiously against her captor. "Sorry, neither."
Mr. Spock is staring daggers at the man. Uhura dislodges herself from Sulu's grasp and runs to me. Her actions distract Sulu just long enough for the Captain to jump him. The two men struggle until Mr. Spock strolls up to the assailant and calmly places a hand at the crook of his neck. Sulu plummets to the floor like a log, his arms splayed out against the charcoal gray carpet.
"I'd like you to teach me that sometime," mutters Kirk under his breath.
"Take D'Artagnon here to sickbay." Mr. Spock finds me standing beside the communications officer. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I shrug, glad he hasn't lost his delightful sense of humor under the current state of alarm. "I wasn't the one he nabbed." I look to Uhura and she smiles.
"I'm alright." She returns to her station and I wander over to Mr. Spock's to make room for the men lifting Sulu out of the bridge.
Captain Kirk returns his efforts at establishing contact with the engine room, his voice ringing through the bridge.
"You rang, sir?" Trills a voice – the voice of the man Mr. Spock chased out of the bridge earlier – Riley.
He introduces himself as "Captain Kevin Thomas Riley of the Starship Enterprise" when prompted. "And who is this?" He asks lazily.
"This is Captain Kirk." He glowers over the transmission like an enraged pit bull defending its territory. "Get out of the engine room, navigator. Where's Mr. Scott?"
"I've relieved Mr. Scott of his duties." Dismissing the Captain, Riley continues ranting senselessly over the intercom. "Now, attention cooks. This is your Captain speaking. I would like double portions of ice cream for the entire crew."
His ramblings are so random I would laugh if we weren't in such a mess. I jump when I hear the Captain's fist bang against the turbolift's shut doors. Kirk asks Uhura to manually clear the elevator for him. Meanwhile, Riley renders his own version of what he calls and ancient Irish favorite. His warbled and out-of-tune voice ricochets off the walls.
"Captain." Mr. Spock stops Kirk before he can board the lift, "at our present rate of descent, we have less than 20 minutes before we enter planet atmosphere –"
"– and burn up." I finish.
"I know." His irritated voice and penetrating eyes tell us to shut up. He disappears behind the doors of the turbolift.
I turn just in time to catch Mr. Spock blow air through his lips in exasperation at Riley's continued warbled tune. I smile appreciatively at the adorableness of the moment I have stolen. Stop it Echo. Just stop it. We're this close to dying and you can't get a boy out of your head?
A/N: Hello my lovelies! I am still among the living! . . .Just barely. As some of you may know, the months of May and June are stuffed with final projects and exams for college students. I've been really busy with that, like going to sleep at 1 A.M. daily working on homework, projects, and studying kind of busy. Ahhhh, the stress of college life.
So I finished up my spring semester courses on Wednesday! Yay! Now, I have a week off before summer semester begins :"O Nooo! I can't take it anymore (but I have to).
This chapter is half of "The Naked Time" episode, so the next post will be the second half because it's so long. I hope you enjoyed this installment. I have a little surprise in store, I'm curious if you guys will like it or not . . . I guess we'll have to wait and see. It's nothing big so don't anticipate too much.
And so to end this author's note, I apologize for my absence. I know it was more than a month but my priorities are my studies first because that's what's going to give me the knowledge, background, and practice I need to get a career in something I enjoy and in becoming a better writer because my ultimate goal is to publish my original works.
Artronaut: If you remember, Echo was told it was recommended she didn't tell anyone about when she's from for privacy purposes (and possibly other reasons), but it wasn't forbidden. She really hit it off with Uhura so she divulged about some of her story and Uhura was really chill about it, which is one of the reasons why Spock didn't cut in and stop her from revealing her origins. See, I had the whole scene in my head but I thought it would be too much unnecessary dialogue so I didn't write it all in. Sorry :S Does it make sense now?
Thank you for your continued patience! :D If my story is good enough to have caused withdrawals, let me know :3 Lol. If you would like to follow me on tumblr, just search me by the same username I use here. I mostly just reblog Jonnor and Phan stuff. Until next time my lovelies.
Your favorite nymph,
Echo.