Not a Happy Camper

by Starsinger

Jim's grounded. And not by Starfleet, or his Mom, or McCoy, but by his own body, and he feels enormously betrayed. Meanwhile, Scotty helps out with repairs on the Gagarin since somebody kicked off the Enterprise. Don't own them.

"Are you sure he said 'just tap it'?" Kris asked one more time. She faced a wall, it was supposed to light up and answer a question when she tapped it. It just sat there, dark and uncaring.

Her Chief Engineer, Tom Freeman, looked at her, "That's what I was told."

Kris finally hit the wall, and it lit up, wonder of wonders. She looked at Tom, he looked back, "Okay, now we need to get into a boxing match with the damn thing just to get a response?"

"Bridge to Captain McDaniel," Trish, her Chief of Communications interrupted her.

"Kris here, Trish," she said slapping the communicator on the wall, at least it worked. "What is it, Trish."

"There's a request from a Commander Montgomery Scott. He'd like to come aboard to help with repairs. Kris could hear the grin on the other end. Tom was practically dancing with anticipation.

"Tell Scotty to come on over, he's more than welcome," Kris looked at Tom with a grin. "Haven't seen Scotty since we dropped him off at Delta Vega. I still think he got the wrong end of that bargain. At least they got that hole fixed," she muttered. Kris had been allowed back in her quarters two hours ago. Fortunately, there wasn't a lot to fix. She kept her quarters as spare as most Starfleet Captains.

The Gagarin was a compact ship. She consisted of eight decks, mostly devoted to science. There was little difference in the cabins between officers and enlisted, Kris and Liz shared a bathroom. Kris' office was about the size of a closet, she spent most of those working hours not on the bridge in the rec room. She wasn't claustrophobic, there just wasn't enough room in her office for anything. Engineering was the biggest section and its size was standard for any Federation vessel. She had two transporter rooms, and the second biggest section was Science/Medical. The two seemed to run together so often that they were housed on the same three decks. One of the crewmembers was actually trying to figure out the fungus that wiped out those crops on Tarsus IV. Although it really wasn't any danger to the ship, and unless the Gagarin crashed into a habitable planet, it was unlikely to affect anything else, Kris made sure all studies of it were made under strictest isolation. "No need to take any chances," Kris muttered. Shirley grinned at her and handed her a hypo, Kris was allergic to fungus spores. Not badly, but mushrooms did bad things to her.

Kris snapped back to the present as she and Tom headed for transporter room one. Tall and lanky, Tom sported a beard and mustache. Dark brown hair and light skin went well with his brown eyes. They met Scotty as he came off the transporter. "Welcome back, Scotty. Under much nicer circumstances, I must say," Kris said.

"Aye, she a good lookin' ship. I'm jus' glad I kin help someone," Scotty said grinning at Kris. They walked back out into the corridor when the lights failed. Kris groaned. "Tha' happenin' often?" Scotty asked from the darkness.

"Oh, just once or twice…an hour," Kris muttered under her breath. "Even after our run in with that singularity, we didn't have that problem until they started working on her."

That was it, Scotty had heard enough. As soon as the lights came back on and they could see again, he was off like a shot to Engineering. Kris left him and Tom to do what they did best. Beat up Starfleet engineers who didn't have a clue what they were doing. Hours later, she was in the observation lounge when she heard Tom's voice, "You'd think that with a ship this small, they'd know what they were doing."

"Ah, coffee," Scotty said, stopping at the red machine and pouring himself some. Tom made a point of taking it from the blue machine.

"Mr. Scott, you may want to reconsider that coffee," Tom tried to warn him.

Scotty took one sip and Kris could swear she saw his hair stand on end, "Wha' is this? Coffee on steroids?"

"It's called raktajino, and it's an acquired taste. I don't recommend it for anyone who reacts strangely to caffeine." Tom noticed Kris avoided telling him where they got it.

"Well, I guess ye shouldnae gi' it to Chekov when he comes aboard. Where can I find this?" Kris chuckled as the Scot guzzled it down with gusto.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was rather comical, McCoy thought. And an excellent example why Jim wouldn't be joining some of his crew on the mission into Bajoran space. He was trying to put on a pair of socks and couldn't quite get his muscles to aim in the direction of opening of the sock. McCoy watched as his flailing muscles put his arms in one quadrant and the offending foot in another.

"Oh, I suppose you think this is funny," Kirk growled as McCoy tried really hard not to laugh.

"No, Jim, I don't. It's just telling you your limits." He earned a death glare from the younger man. "Admiral Archer is here. He wants to talk to you about Tarsus IV."

Jim opened his mouth, then closed it. Of the Admiralty in Starfleet, Pike was the only one he told about his involvement in the whole sorry affair. Then he remembered, Hoshi Sato, one of the victims, was the communications officer on Archer's Enterprise. Kirk nodded and gave up on the sock, somewhat mournfully. Archer moved like the old man that he was. Behind him was a middle-aged looking Vulcan woman. With a start Kirk realized that this had to be T'Pol who would be roughly middle-aged in Vulcan terms. They watched as McCoy exited the room and closed the door behind him.

They looked at Jim. He was suddenly feeling like a specimen in a bottle. "Jim," Archer started, "I don't know how much you know about Tarsus IV, but we're opening up a new investigation into the massacre. There are new rumors that Kodos isn't dead." Kirk shrank back into his bed. It took every fiber of his being to remind himself that getting up and running was not an option. T'Pol just looked at him, cocking her head at his curious reaction.

Archer picked up a rather thick book with pictures, "This contains men about the right age and size as Kodos would be if he were alive. I know you can't identify him." Archer was oblivious, for once, and Jim was grateful. T'Pol on the other hand… "We have several of the Tarsus 9 coming here to look at the pictures. Maybe, after all this time…" his voice trailed off. He was remembering his friend, even twenty years later. "T'Pol, if we could just find this JT, I'm convinced he isn't dead. Why are his records gone if he he's dead? I'm convinced he just doesn't want to be found." Archer looked old, so very old. Jim wished he could confess the lie he'd been living. "I just want to see justice for Hoshi before I die," he said as he wandered out the door.

T'Pol closed the door behind him before returning her gaze to Kirk. She suddenly had her hands on his back and pushed him forward before he knew it. She studied his back before gently returning him to his original position. "Are you sure you can do this, JT?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, stricken. "No, I won't tell him. Please, go through the pictures, see if you can identify him. There are families and friends who need closure on this. I suspect you as well."

Kirk nodded, T'Pol walked out the door as well. He looked down at the book in his hands. How many did he say, nine? No, eight, Jim himself was the ninth. He didn't want to do this. This would reopen old wounds as painful as those that caused the scars on his back. He sighed and opened the book. He looked at every man in there, and none matched the face seared into his memory. The brand, or mark, so vivid that he could never forget it.

Jim had watched as his aunt and uncle, two people who actually cared for and loved him, and his cousins were killed in front of him. His aunt pushing him down. Jim took a deep breath, perhaps it was time for justice. Then, he heard the trembling, uncertain voice in front of him, "JT, is that really you…"

Just rewatched "The Conscience of the King". Rather tragic what Kodos does at the end. And his daughter, whew. Shakespeare, very simple, Shakespeare.