"Din Lugh"
A Star Trek-the Original Series (TOS) fan-fic/Alternate Universe (set mainly after "Wrath of Khan").
A/N: This story is Scotty-centric, and I do not own any rights to these "Star Trek" characters and tales. I am using a timeline of my own design that runs with movies II-V, more or less (notice that I ignore ST-"The Motion Picture"). I started writing this fan-fic more than 30 years ago and only recently decided to dust it off a bit to see where it takes me.
Summary: Scotty has family members elsewhere in Starfleet and the Klingons would love to capture one or any of them.
Rating: T for now; may change in later chapters.
Pairings: MS/NU, LM/CC, others as needed.
Medically cleared
Chapter 28/?
Though she knew full well that the two cousins were not actually fighting during their afternoon workout (and certainly not punching with all of their strength; she had asked them in no uncertain terms to go easy on each other), Uhura flinched in sympathy when Scotty took a rapid jab-cross-jab combination directly to the chin. Huge droplets of perspiration periodically flew from the heads and necks of both men, spattering the rug and nearby furniture as they boxed and grappled; their shorts and t-shirts were completely soaked through. The elder Scot merely grinned and waved for Connor to continue with the "light" sparring.
"That's it, laddie," said Scotty encouragingly, running his thumb over both eyebrows to clear the sweat. He was still grinning like a madman as he took a couple of deep breaths. "Gi' us another one if ye can!"
Connor stepped back, rolled both shoulders to loosen tightening muscles and then came forward again, this time with his right foot in front—what traditional boxers called a "southpaw stance". He snapped a front-leg push kick to his cousin's sternum and was about to follow that with a pair of right chops when the door chime sounded loudly through the room and the youngster froze in momentary bafflement at the unfamiliar noise, dropping his guard.
Nyota recognized the tune for what it was and got to her feet to answer the door but she didn't see all of the action when Scotty bull-rushed the inattentive Connor, taking him down hard to the carpeted floor with a broad shoulder to the left ribcage. All she heard from the other room was a surprised grunt and loud whoosh as the cadet got the wind knocked out of him. Grappling instinct took over then and Connor wrapped both legs tightly around the older man's waist, pulling him into a full guard defensive position.
"Bloody hell, Connor," Scotty exclaimed at once, disengaging and rising to his knees apologetically. "Are you alright, lad? You've always blocked that tackle before."
Connor chuckled breathlessly and shook his head a few times to clear the cobwebs, reaching up a hand to tweak his cousin on the end of his nose. "Oof, damn! I'm fine, Monty and that was a frickin' brilliant move."
They laughed boisterously and pulled each other to their feet, and then Scotty pulled the young man into a warm embrace, slapping him on the back. It seemed that Connor had grown an additional centimeter or two overnight and that his eyes were just about level with the top of the engineer's forehead.
Scotty tsked and berated himself when he saw a bruise purpling on Connor's left elbow. "Well, I'm sorry for going hard at yah. Are ye sure you're okay?"
Connor adjusted the wavelength-blocking goggles and laughed again, completely unconcerned. "Aye, I'm great," he said as they both selected very large bottles of sparkling mineral water from the beverage replicator panel in the kitchen. "I'll just have to rethink my strategy in the future since I forgot about you and your bloody Brazilian jiu jitsu, you clever old sod."
The elder Scot blushed at the compliment still feeling rather guilty about the take down but neither of them was any worse for the wear. "Och, well, I generally dinna like to go to the ground if I can help it, yah ken? I'd rather keep to mah feet with mah mates at mah back. 'Sa good way to get kicked right in the heed in a wee bar scuffle."
The youngster grinned as they sat together at the dinette table, taking a break; he picked at a loose corner of the tabletop with his thumbnail. For some strange reason, Connor had been working doggedly at tearing off the piece of plastic for at least three days now. "Sometimes, yeah it is—or right straight in the bollocks."
He pulled the goggles from his face and set them upon the table, wincing a little bit at the bright overhead lights as he rubbed at a bruise that was forming beside his left brow ridge. The hard plastic of the headgear had caught a glancing blow across his forehead during the roughhousing.
Uhura and a young woman whom Scotty did not know stepped in from the entry doorway. "Gentlemen, the lieutenant is here to give us a check up." Out of the visitor's view, Nyota shrugged questioningly at Scotty as she resumed her place at the table.
The medic smiled a polite greeting and Connor recognized her once again. "Izzy? Eh, sorry," he said gesturing to the senior officers seated at his left to make the formal introductions. "Commander Montgomery Scott, Commander Nyota Uhura, this is Lieutenant Isabella Gondieve."
Scotty nodded but Uhura could tell that he was still skeptical. "Och, a house call, is it now? Good to know that we merit that kind of special attention all the way out here."
"Yes, sir. You do," replied Lt. Gondieve evenly, pulling the strap from her shoulder and placing a heavy medical bag on the center of the table. "My supervisor has asked me to check on each of you to make sure that we are good to go for the next phase of the mission." She removed what appeared to be a standard medical tricorder and scanner from the bag.
"And what mission might that be, Lieutenant Isabella Gondieve?" Scotty wanted to know.
Izzy gave a subtle one-shoulder shrug and met his gaze steadily. "I'm not at liberty to say, Commander." She gestured for Uhura to turn slightly. "Ladies first, Commander Uhura?"
Nyota raised an eyebrow at Connor and Scotty but she quietly complied and sat facing the younger officer while the medical scanner in the woman's hand whirred and beeped around her head and shoulders. The medical lieutenant was efficient and focused her attention on her instruments.
"What do you think this is all about, lad?" Scotty asked in a soft, rumbling voice, switching easily to speaking in Scots Gaelic. Uhura saw that Connor seemed puzzled at first by the question but then he nodded in understanding, exhaling sharply through his teeth.
"Not sure. They had a full medibay elsewhere, if I remember correctly," he replied in the same tongue, taking a deep draught from the bubbly water and then he stifled a burp with the back of one hand. "Excuse me. But I was pretty much away wi' the wee people, wasn't I?"
Scotty grunted in agreement. "Aye, you were indeed, but this is the same lass you said you knew from when you first came on board the Enterprise. What's she doing out here with this lot of, well, whatever they are?"
Connor sighed. "No clue, Monty."
He stripped off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and flopped it across his lap. Uhura noticed right away that the medic cut her eyes briefly over to admire Connor's muscular, lightly freckled torso and a ghost of a smile came to her lips. Although Nyota was not a fan of tattoos and Connor's right bicep was decorated with well-rendered black ink artwork of a claddagh and intertwining Celtic knot that wrapped around his entire upper arm, she had to admit that it suited him. As Scotty had begun to exercise more since being cleared after his heart surgery, Uhura had immediately realized that the two men even had similar body language.
Gondieve snapped the scanner shut for the moment and took up a portable phlebotomy kit. "I will also need to do a blood draw, Commander. Would you bare your right forearm for me, please?"
As Uhura pulled back the sleeve of her shirt, she rested her arm on the tabletop. "Why the blood sample, if I may ask?"
Izzy hesitated for a fraction of a second and then skillfully drew a painless ten-milliliter sample into the clear tube. "We need to ensure that the sedatives you were given have been metabolized fully from your system; it's a necessary precaution. There, thank you, ma'am." Gondieve handed Uhura a small alcohol-soaked pad to staunch the tiniest of blood drops as the veni-puncture wound healed itself.
She turned to Scotty, reaching for the scanner again. "Commander Scott?"
He wiped his face and neck with the towel that Connor had handed him, and then he tossed it back at the young man with a cheeky grin. "Aye, go ahead if yah must, Lieutenant."
Connor watched as his cousin sat placidly for the medic's exam and he ran his fingers along the water bottle's label; Uhura recognized his very pensive look as he stared at his own hand. She had seen that same brooding look on Scotty's face many, many times over the years.
"What's on your mind, honey?" she asked quietly, switching to her native tongue of Swahili. He smiled gratefully at the lovely Communications officer.
"I'm not completely sure, ma'am," he said in the same language, staring once again on the table in front of him before he gazed levelly at the older woman whom he trusted completely as a mentor and friend. "She was one of several classmates from those…days back on the Enterprise. And her father is an instructor of martial arts at the Academy."
Uhura nodded and made a small sound of interest, gently encouraging him to continue. "Do you think these little clues are all connected in some way?"
"Aye, somehow. They have to be," he replied, frowning. "I just canna put it all together; could be something, could be nothing." Connor sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead, rubbing at both temples between his thumb and middle finger.
"We will, don't you worry. Headache again?" Uhura asked, placing a cool, compassionate hand on his arm.
"Aye, but not like the ones I was having before," Connor said, chuckling ruefully. "So I guess that's good news." She patted his arm encouragingly, glancing over at the medic who had just finished drawing the blood sample from Scotty.
"We'll talk more later, honey," she said, switching back to Standard. If the medic had been bothered by them speaking in languages which she did not understand, Gondieve's professional and detached demeanor showed no sign of it.
"Alright, Connor. Last but not least," said Gondieve, now turning her attention to the cadet. She jerked her chin at the goggles that rested on the table in front of him. "Are you still sensitive to bright lights? Those blockers should help with that."
"Oh, aye. They're fine," he answered with a nonchalant wave of one hand. He reached up to tap the Scopolamine patch on the side of his neck. "Can this thing come off? It itches like the devil."
"Of course," Izzy replied. She held out her hand for him when he removed it; the patch was folded and tucked into a pocket of her scrubs. The scanner whirred and beeped for the third time as she passed it near his head, neck and chest. "Dr. McCoy did a wonderful job with that shoulder replacement," she noted conversationally.
Connor shrugged without commenting but it was Scotty who casually spoke up: "Speaking of CMOs, lass, who is your chief medical officer here?"
"Dr. Tahaj Lofton," Izzy told him, prepping the blood sample tube and placing it against Connor's right forearm, activating the device. "He was my first preceptor after 'A' school. I certainly have learned a lot from him."
"Interesting," Scotty commented though he did not know the man, taking a sip from his water bottle. He tilted his head, catching a curious glance from Nyota.
Lt. Gondieve checked the level of deep scarlet fluid in the vial and nodded, satisfied. "There, all set. Thank you." Izzy gathered up her scanner and other instruments, replacing them in the bulky medical bag. "I'll get these to the analytical lab right away but I will say that you three are in very good shape. My supervisor will get back to you this evening." As she shouldered her bag and turned to the entry hallway, Connor stood and crossed over to her side.
"Wait, Isabella. Please," he began haltingly. "What happened to the others who were with us, from the Fremgen I mean? There were three more Starfleet personnel on that transport, the Woods family they were called. And the transport's crew as well? My cousin Monty said the pirates hit us first."
Gondieve shook her head. "I honestly don't know, Connor, I'm sorry. That is outside of my area of responsibility."
Connor gripped her by the elbow and spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep his temper from flaring. "I'm no' askin' about your stupid AOR, Iz! They're people… what happened to them?" The medic smiled to herself at some memory as the young man's accent thickened into Scots dialect.
Izzy calmly rested her free hand on Connor's bare chest, and the gentle familiarity of the gesture made Uhura wonder if they had been something more than just classmates or shipmates at one point. "Truly, I do not know, Connor. You are now medically cleared to leave your suite if you like but stay within the green-lighted zone. It's for your own good, okay? If you have any questions, you can check with the computer pickups."
"Izzy, tell me what's…"
She shook her head firmly and stepped away. "I have to go. Commander Rakit will call a team briefing for this evening." Gondieve turned to Uhura and Scotty. "Ma'am. Sir. Thank you for your cooperation."
Connor was still standing at the closed door when the medic left them, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his bottom lip. "God dammit," he whispered, shaking his head in disappointment as his shoulders sagged. "What the hell is going on?"
He sensed someone at his side and he turned to see Commander Uhura smiling warmly up at him. When he opened his mouth to speak, she shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips, asking with her eyes and her gesture for his silence. Without a word, she took his hand and led him to the bathroom of their suite. Any other day, he would have laughed out loud at the humorous sight that awaited them of his cousin standing there in the steam, still wearing his sweaty shorts and t-shirt.
Scotty gave him a mysterious wink and the door shut, leaving the three of them crowded together in the swirling mist and damp. The showerhead in the stall was running full blast, with the water temperature as hot as it would go. Connor watched as the older man took his finger and wrote in block capital letters on the steamy mirror: "SFCIA", and he underlined it for emphasis.
Connor shook his head at Scotty, still confused and he mouthed silently: "What?!"
Uhura came to his aid then, stepping wordlessly to the sink to reach up and write on the vanity mirror herself. Connor was open-mouthed with astonishment as she squeezed his arm and he read: "Spies".
He groaned aloud then and looked from Uhura to his cousin, and back again. "Bloody hell."
TBC
