Bole looked up from the padd while sitting in her chair appearing to be unhappy.
George looked over toward the captain feeling the unhappy air radiating from her. He didn't need a high ESP rating to detect that. It was just the general mood that had changed. He didn't need to be a Betazoid or a Andorian to know something was afoot. She placed her padd onto the arm rest, "Number One, with me." George got up from his station then followed after the captain going into the ready room. The captain vanished behind the large, comfortable mobile chair. The chair squeaked against the floor.
"I do not understand why the ambassador needs five beehives retrieved from the planet he used to be on," Bole said, turned in the direction of the windows behind her desk. "he said so himself. . ." she turned the chair in the direction of the first officer. "The chances of their survival and relocation in a walkable distance is slim."
"They are part of the ecosystem," George said. "Can't remove them."
"You're going down to Diagla, when we get into orbit, tomorrow," Bole said. "and you must take the Ambassador."
George felt his stomach churn. Now that he knew his son's husband was Spock, George felt like walking on egg shells. He did not wish to pry into the future. Or let alone hear about it. The elder had been littering spoilers behind him one way or another and George still found out either way. Spock was doing a terrible job of abiding the prime directive. He implied, and therefore, spoiled. Note to self: request the Ambassador not break the temporal prime directive. It was funny. Comical, even to a certain extent. Spock would understand how he was feeling about it.
"I can always say that we looked and didn't find them," George said. "he won't know that we didn't look hard enough," George paused, ashamed, at what he was suggesting. It was rude and disrespectful. He didn't like talking this way. "God, I would love to get his bees back but we can't. I can get him a new one."
"He won't notice as he will be recalling what it looked like," Bole said.
"Now I just feel bad for the poor man," George said
"I need you to do a favor for me," Bole said. "have you seen the ambassador and the admiral, apart from last week?"
"No, captain," George said. "I haven't seen the Ambassador since sick bay."
"Biological urge," Bole shook her head. "Doctor Talron and the others are unable to check up on the pair since the Ion Storm wrecked engineering," George froze sitting in the chair across from the captain. "Surgery won't let them."
"What about Commander White?" George asked.
"It would be inappropriate to send in someone who is not part of the family and has not been ordered by the captain to go there," Bole said. "this is your son."
"We don't know if our child is going to be a boy, girl, or neither," George said. "I get a rough idea of what to expect in his future partner but intruding on a different version of my child's life?" George gave her a incredulous look. "No, I respect his privacy."
"It's jarring," her black eyes looked on toward the blue eyed man.
"Back home, he is a one year old and two months," George said. "here, he is a old man."
"Serving in Star Fleet is full of jarring situations," Bole said. "this is your first."
"What was yours?" George asked. "Not as mixed feelings as me."
"It was my first captain," Bole said. "Seeing them in way I did… " she had a grim look on her face. She didn't reply while looking back for a few minutes. Then she resumed speaking, "I am still not over it. You will never get over it. Besides, you never know, he will interfere in his past selves dating life to make sure he finds the one." George glared in her direction.
"A Kirk does not sabotage a family member like that," George said. "I will make sure of it."
"Then it's safe to assume he won't spoil you about anything that happens," Bole said.
"You are right," George said. "I will get used to it. Best as I can."
"Remember, Number One," Bole said. "No one has it rough as you do. Dismissed."
George made his way down the dark corridor. George had only spoke with Kirk for practical purposes that related to the mission. The admiral had insisted that he go in there when the Romulan bird of prey (That is what he called it) when the shields were down and everyone's attention were not on security. Bole had planned to send George and herself on the mission to retrieve the Ambassador. Though knowing who the admiral was to the ambassador had changed all of that plan. The captain had sent two security officers with him. They had died protecting him on his mission. He came in front of the doors to the quarters then stepped on through. The doors chimed opening automatically into the room.
"Should the nebula be in the way, fly throuuuugh it, fllly throuugh it," George overheard singing. He looked over to see that across from him was a makeshift oven. Where did he get that? He watched the man fill a plate alongside a empty one. George smelled bacon, tasty, delicious bacon, with his hands locked behind his back. He saw the man's broad shoulders. The silver graying, curling hair. "as no one will do sooo." the singing was not at all bad but gleeful and passionate. "Oh, hi Dad." Kirk looked over giving the younger man a smile.
George was frozen where he stood unable to form words. Winona and George had been sending messages to each other during the travel to find the Ambassador. Plans that quickly changed. They had decided long ago that their growing family would follow George to wherever his assignments might be except for this one. Winona was working on arrangements to make the farm house as 'blind-friendly' as possible and working on other avenues. George didn't know what to say. No idea. No clue. So the only thing that did come out were:
"Did Winona teach you to cook?" George asked.
Kirk turned toward George with a incredulous expression.
"No, you did," Kirk said. "Winona over complicated it." Kirk laughed, warmly, at the memory. "Which did come in handy from time to time," he added the bacon to to the empty plate then carefully added soft, jelly like eggs with the white solid center around it to the plate.
"How is your husband?" George asked.
"Still eating soft food," Kirk said.
"Last I heard, Mr Spock had to eat soft food," George said. "can't be for him."
"Me," Kirk said, dancing his eyebrows turning toward the younger man with a beaming smile. He picked up the other plate. "Excuse me, I have a hungry mouth to feed." then seemingly warped away leaving George behind. "Thanks for coming!"
George walked into the transporter room where he was joined by two Vulcan security officers. T'Mick and T'Berry strapped their phaser holsters around their waists. By Spock's side stood Kirk wrapping a long, comfy scarf around the Vulcan's neck. The planet's temperature was very low indicating it was entering the colder season or at least getting ready to. Spock held his gloved hand out for the fretting human who was in fall gear that was labeled from hat to boots in star fleet deltas. Kirk returned the gesture as his other hand zipped up the coat.
"First Officer Kirk, we don't know if the Romulans have a facility nearby so I requested for a third member," T'Mick gestured over toward a defected Cardassian with a long tail. "We need all the paranoid-thinking security officers on this mission."
"Good choice," George said. "Mr Charlie, good to see you again."
"As to you, Commander," Charlie said.
"Are you ready, gentlemen?" George asked.
The two men turned their heads in the direction of the younger men.
"Ready as always, First Officer," Kirk said.
"Prepare to board the transporter," George clicked on the bed as the group walked onto the side ways 'c' shaped transporter padd. The transporter padd was orange and black with what seemed to be large circular fans behind them. They turned in the direction of the transporter technicians. "Energize."
The group was projected out of the ship down toward the planet. Spock reached his hand out for Kirk as the smell of ASH ASH ASH ASH ASH ASH ASH DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION BURN BURN BURN BURN BUN BURN BURN BURN BURN BURN DESTRUCTION DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH shot into his senses. George looked at the gray, dark scenery. There were shards of grass slowly growing back to the ground. It looked haunting. A strange deer stopped in its tracks with two smaller counterparts beside it. Kirk squeezed Spock's hand. There was a wide, large space where the house once stood. George looked up toward the sky to see there were nothing hanging from there. Not a nest, not a beehive, or a hornets nest nearby. George walked forward. The deer like creatures sprinted away out of terror. T'Mick performed a scan using a security tricorder stepping forward. His boots tearing through what was most likely hard wood remains of some kind that softly crunched beneath the star fleet issued soles. He looked toward the tricorder holding the scanner out walking forward with it lowered toward the ground then toward the direction the deer that fled.
"No sign of life," T'Mick said.
"Romulans would not want a base underground in this part," Charlie said. "I am sure the Romulan Defector would agree with me."
"I bet he would," George said, as a dark look was casted on his face.
"The bees are still alive," Kirk said. "You can't kill bees easily."
"Smoke can kill bees without protection," Spock insisted. "the chances of the queens survival is very likely and they have a beehive already set up in a nectar fluent location …"
"But since it is fall, the chances of nectar is slim," George said. He turned in the Ambassador's direction stepping into a dried, dead long piece of some wood related part. It was wood, George decided, dried dead wood. "We will look," he turned his attention toward Charlie. "Charlie, T'Berry remain here with them… T'Mick, you are with me."
"Aye, captain," T'Mick said.
"We'll find the bees," George said. "We will be back in ten minutes or an hour."
"You are giving one hour to a search?" Spock inquired. "Searches like these are meant to be brief."
"This is a entirely different era," Kirk reminded. "Rules are different."
"Listen to your husband, Ambassador," George said. "he knows what he is talking about."
George and T'Mick went on leaving the small group behind. George walked through the dark forest looking around the heavy fog. Slowly the vegetation returned to the scenery as they walked down the path. George looked around in awe then took out his on science tricorder. He looked around noticing a log that was covered in flowers that were colorful and covered with pollen. He knelt down toward the flower then held the tricorder and snapped pictures. He lowered it looking at it with curious, intrigued eyes and awe in them. T'Mick's attention was focused on the surroundings with one hand on the phaser.
"Something does not feel right about this location," T'Mick said.
"Relax," George placed a hand on his knee. "There is no carnivores animals nearby."
"You haven't considered cannibalistic plants," T'Mick said.
"That exists on Vulcan," George said. "Just because Sehlats and Vulcans alike can get killed by them does not mean not all the plant life can eat man."
"Vulcan Sucker Vines have counterparts that are native to other planets," T'Mick said. "I was once stationed on a planet like this for a science assignment," George looked up looking up off toward the trees for the shapes of a beehives. "The worst of these vines are S'gagerat. Sucker Vines are now cowards, their purple vines stick out, just awaiting. While the S'gagerat are lying like snakes in the sand. Waiting to shoot out and sting a drug that tires the victims, then slowly bring in the prey, and allow for a very slow digestion."
"T'Mick, your planet is terrifying," George said.
"That distinction goes to Earth," T'Mick said. "It's a death planet,"
"Right, remind me not to compliment your planet," George said.
"An Earth bee," T'Mick said, watching the bee flying away. "First officer, this way."
The two men followed after the bee and made their way toward a buzzing clearing twenty minutes later. There were five beehives that were connected by a long tunnel that went through all five. George's jaw dropped as he stared in bewilderment. T'Mick raised an eyebrow at the unusual sighting. George slowly turned away from the sight then flipped out his communicator. He felt like he was in one of the old Earth tv shows such as The Twilight Zone and The X-Files. Earth bees joining together with their queens to co-exist was odd. It seemed the environment and the ecosystem was enforcing cooperation. Scientifically, there were no such occurrences studied like this before.
"Kirk to Charlie," George said.
"Charlie here," Charlie said.
"We found the beehives," George said. "Something is going on with them."
"What is it, sir?" Charlie asked, concerned.
"They're all connected," George said. "I really do not think we should transplant them now," T'Mick lowered his eyes toward the floor and he did not move. "My apologies, Mr Spock."
"First Officer," T'Mick said. "you may wish to see this."
"What is it?" George asked.
"My consideration on cannibalistic plants still stand," T'Mick said. George slowly looked down.
"Ah shit," George said.
"Don't move," T'Mick said, calmly. There was long, large juicy looking vines moving under the fallen leaves. "Don't move your legs." their eyes watched the overgrown vines traveling beneath. "Your arms, on the other hand, might be optional."
"Ensign T'Mick," George said. "Look down."
"Oh," was all T'Mick said.
"What do you see?" George asked.
There was a beat.
"Dead vines," T'Mick said.
"Return to the ship, now," George said. "you and the others go first."
"The Ambassador is being comforted by his bondmate," T'Mick said. "I should not intrude." T'Mick saw the shorter human rubbing the Vulcans back speaking softly to the man. "Very private moment."
"How far away are they?" George asked.
"Roughly seven feet away," T'Mick said. "perhaps more."
"Call the Shran and get transporter up, first," George said. "we will be right behind you." George closed the communicator then put it away.
He unstrapped the tricorder from his shoulder then took pictures. T'Mick's eyes were on the ground watching the vines move around them. T'Mick's hand gripped around the handle of the gun. George repeatedly pressed the tricorder watching the vines moving around them. There was a subtle difference in the moving leaves in how the leaves moved beneath. T'Mick took his phaser out aiming at the moving vines. George scanned the vines collecting the data that he could with the recently discovered plant life. George straightened himself up above from the vines.
"Carnvineous Liana," George said. His eyes saw the shape of a thigh bone sticking out partially from the leaves. "Definitely carnvineous."
"That is not a word," T'Mick said.
"It is now a species name," George replied.
"Are you naming it after a pokemon?" T'Mick raised an eyebrow.
"This planet is named after a Pokemon," George said.
"What–oh," T'Mick said. "A butterfly–" T'Mick let go of the handle reaching out for the butterfly.
"Didn't you say to remain still?" George asked.
T'Mick stepped back losing his balance. George's eyes widened flipping out his communicator and firing back into the tangled mess. The first officer leaped after the tangled vine mess. The vines cut into T'Mick's skin piercing through his uniform tearing it. George vaporized a layer of the vines calling into the communicator, "George to Shran, two to transport!" as T'Mick let out a primal scream as a long cut as the vines dug further and further into him letting an out pour of neon blood come out. New vines replaced the ones were replacing the ones removed dragging him toward the center where the vines were from. "We need a medical team, NOW, NOW!" George fired at the vines watching helplessly on toward his colleague whose screams were dying. In a instant, he was there, and then he was not.
He was briefly at two places at the same time. Projected through what felt like walls, a familiar feeling, that made George feel like he was flying. George appeared on the transporter padd then collapsed to the floor then moved his way toward the Vulcan whose skin was covered in green blood. Talron almost beamed into the room checking for a pulse. A firm hand was placed on his shoulders as his eyes were resting on the ripped chest. George was heart broken looking toward his brief colleague. The Vulcan's chest was no longer moving. Talron reached her hand back looking over toward the blonde man. He had lost his grip on the phaser letting it go on the floor.
"He is dead," Talron said. "First Officer Kirk."
"I am sorry, kid," Kirk said.
"Tushash nash-veh k'du," Spock said. I grieve with thee.
"He was just a ensign," George said. "just a ensign."