Welcome back, let's see what Saavik and Christine get up to now. And will they succeed in getting Spock's attention?
On the morning of the 24th of December, they followed Spock up to the bridge as usual. Christine felt slightly uneasy about the fact that they already thought about it as usual. It shouldn't be usual. She should be in sickbay, fussing about some other crewmember who'd gotten into trouble.
"Please do not get hurt today," Saavik said as they rode the lift with Spock.
Christine shrugged. "I'll try."
On the bridge, they concentrated all their efforts on Spock, just as planned. But the possibilities of haunting were limited, and there was nothing to be done here than what they hadn't already tried yesterday.
They managed to make him trip over his chair, and raise an eyebrow when displays started flashing, seemingly by themselves. But he, unperturbed as ever, simply ordered a diagnostic and went on with his day.
The more promising possibilities arose after his shift as they continued to follow him around and tried to get his attention at every turn. Sadly, though, this quickly became a series of failed attempts.
In the officers' mess, Christine managed to make the food synthesizer get Spock's order wrong. Instead of a salad, it procured a portion of Plomeek soup. The Vulcan, though, ever the non-sentimental type seemed to think nothing of it. Not a single muscle moved as the synthesizer supplied him with the same meal he had once thrown after an unsuspecting young nurse. He simply put the soup into the recycler, and when he had gotten his salad on the second try, joined his friends around the table.
"Oh, you poor oblivious elf," Christine mumbled and looked after him as he walked away. "It was worth a try," she told Saavik. "But foolish to assume he'd attach any importance to the soup."
Saavik raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, it was about something that happened long ago. Maybe I'll tell you later," Christine said, turning her attention to the table.
Lunchtime was usually a happy time, but it seemed subdued today. Not one of the officers seemed up for jokes when the absence in their midst seemed all too fresh.
"Are you alright, Doctor?" Spock asked after a while of McCoy seeming particularly glum.
"No, I'm not, but thanks for asking," he mumbled. "You?"
Spock nodded. "I am fine, Doctor, as always."
"Sure, Pinocchio," McCoy returned. There was a semblance of a smirk flitting over his face.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"He just called you a liar," Jim said, watching the two attentively.
"I am aware." Spock pursed his lips as if he was dealing with a very serious accusation and turned back to the doctor. "More than that, you insinuated I was trying to become a human. Surely you know I would not degrade myself like that."
McCoy leaned back in his chair. "You misunderstand," he said with an air of superiority. "We all know you're not a real boy, but I was thinking how he becomes an ass in the story." He paused, making sure Spock was aware of the double meaning. "You've got the ears and the manner." He smirked as Spock's eyebrow seemed to have reached its zenith. "And yes, I did call you a liar."
"Your usage of metaphors is concerning, Doctor," the Vulcan said without missing a beat. "I see no similarity whatsoever between a fictional wooden puppet and myself."
McCoy grinned. "Don't you, Spock? Don't you?"
Some metres away, the invisible observers were commenting on their banter.
"They should not tease him like that," Saavik said.
She wore a light frown and her eyes shone with a hint of frustration.
Guessing that if she could see a hint of frustration there was a chance that inside, Saavik was on the verge of being angry, Christine quickly said, "It's all in good fun, Saavik. Leonard knows when to stop." She pointed at the two officers at the table. "Look at them. Can you see that Spock is encouraging him?"
Yes, looking at them, it was clear to Saavik that Mr Spock was indeed not only accepting the doctor's teasing but was actively encouraging his attempts by half-humorous quips, disguised as logical arguments. It was not that she was unfamiliar with their bickering, but the intricacies of this social ritual still escaped her. The elder Vulcan had more experience with these human customs. She would have to ask him about it. If she got the chance.
"Exaggeration," she said, turning to Doctor Chapel.
"What?"
"That is what he calls it when he is lying. Exaggeration."
Christine smiled. "So, you're agreeing with Leonard."
"Not at all," Saavik said. "I see no more similarities between Mr Spock and Pinocchio than between any other person and the character."
"A lot of similarities, then," Christine said, prompting a questioning glance. "Well, what I'm trying to say is that we can all see ourselves in the story, in the quest to fit in with others. We're all trying to find our place in the world." She smiled at the young Vulcan next to her. "Spock knows that. And Leonard knows that."
"So, it was a compliment?"
"No, I believe Leonard was trying to insult him. But, you see, he chose a beloved children's book character for that, with both appealing and unappealing traits. He left it ambiguous, inviting the debate."
"Ah, I see," Lieutenant Saavik said. "I will consider it."
They watched the assembly for a while and when no opportunity to interfere presented itself, Christine spoke again.
"Why do you call him 'Mr Spock'?"
"Because that is his name."
Christine resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "I mean why do you choose that form of address? Why not just 'Spock'?"
"I see no logical reason not to," Saavik answered. "It is a simple form of respect and conforms to the convention of the service. He is my superior officer, my mentor, and my elder."
"He is also your friend," Christine said gently.
Saavik said nothing to that, merely pursing her lips for a moment and returning to watching the lunch party of officers.
"I didn't mean to criticize it. I was just curious." Christine pointed towards Spock. "Because he also does that."
Saavik inclined her head, both to show agreement and that she had not taken the doctor's inquiry personally. And when she thought she would be quiet, she continued talking.
"You're very similar, you know? You and Spock."
Saavik turned to her sharply. "How so?"
Spock was a highly decorated officer of Starfleet, infinitely more experienced than her, wiser, and much better than she could claim to be. But as brave, as wise, as kind as him did she aspire to become. To be called very similar to him now had to be either high praise of her or a great insult to him.
Doctor Chapel smirked. "You have the same sense of humour."
Saavik did not dignify her with an answer, tried to frown at her, and failed.
Over the course of several hours, they tried similar ways of getting Spock's attention, all in vain.
In the late afternoon, it became clear they needed to adapt their strategy, lest Spock should remain oblivious.
While he worked at the computer in his cabin, the two stepped aside to talk.
"He is not noticing us," Saavik said.
"We need to step up our game," Christine said, frowning at Spock. "There's one thing we haven't considered yet." She turned to Saavik and smirked. "The Chapel factor."
The young Vulcan's eyebrow shot up. "And that is?"
"Total illogic and emotional targeting," Christine declared as if it should be clear what she had meant. But Saavik still looked sceptical and Christine continued, "Maybe we've been going at it all wrong. We've made plans, developed theories about how they all could notice us. Well, what if the plans were too good? What if we planned so well that our attempts at getting attention didn't seem out of the ordinary anymore? They were too regular and too similar. But what if we tried an approach of chaos, on Spock?"
Saavik tilted her head. "Total illogic."
"Yes," Christine said, "and we'll have to stop doing things that can be written off as coincidences and malfunctions. We'll have to do things that mean something to him, even better things that'll remind him of us."
Saavik nodded. "Emotional targeting. It could work."
They began their approach of chaos after Spock had left his cabin a short while later, undoubtedly to meet up with Jim. They did not need him for this stage of Christine's plan, as she had decided that his quarters were a good place to implement the Chapel factor.
Following Doctor Chapel's request to get some supplies, Saavik broke into storage and returned moments later with a box of Christmas decorations. They had been easy to access at this time of year, meaning without accident, and Saavik was sure that Mr Spock would not keep them in his cabin by his own volition.
"Oh, very good, Saavik, I think we can work with this!" Christine said as she saw the content of the box. She had just finished lighting all the candles she could find, and she had left Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' lying opened on Spock's desk. It might be a very small sign, but at this stage, she wanted to take every opportunity she got to make Spock suspicious. And what better way than a book about ghosts and Christmas?
Perusing the contents of Saavik's box, she proceeded to decorate Spock's cabin, just as she had told him days ago it was done on Earth at times and exaggerated as much as she could. She hung mistletoe over the door, draped tinsel over his shelves, the chairs, and around the support beam in the middle, put a little artificial tree on his desk, littered the surfaces with cinnamon sticks and tangerines, placed a wreath on his lyre, hung baubles onto his gold instruments and into the tinsel, and she even went so far as to scatter a handful of glittery gold stars into each and every drawer and compartment she could find. He'd find those stars in his pants long after New Year's.
When this was done, she stepped back, satisfied with her work. "How does it look?" she asked Saavik who had watched this process with growing bewilderment.
"Decidedly un-Vulcan. Do you normally decorate like this?"
"Oh no," Christine reassured her, then added, with a wink, "I normally skip the gold stars in the underwear compartment."
Saavik raised an eyebrow and looked around the finished room. It had changed from a respectable representation of a ship's second-in-command to a garishly glittering mass of ornamental clutter. The doctor's eyes were gleaming, either with mischief or with the reflection of fifty red and twenty-three blue baubles reflecting the light.
Then they waited for the return of their victim.
When he returned, it was in the company of Jim Kirk. The two officers stopped short after entering the room, the door barely having closed behind them.
Spock looked at Jim, then back at his disarranged quarters, then back at Jim.
The Captain took a few steps into the room, letting his eyes wander. "Eh, I assume you didn't suddenly decide to get into the Christmas spirit?"
"I did not," Spock said. He had remained standing close by the door, his lips a thin line of disapproval.
Jim walked over to his friend's desk and picked up the copy of 'A Christmas Carol' lying there, which was opened to the chapter with the Ghost of Christmas Past. "I also assume you didn't decide to read up on Dickens?"
Spock shook his head, eying the tinsel with a faint notion of disgust. "I did not."
Jim slammed the book shut. "Didn't know you even had a copy."
"I got it from the doctor," Spock explained.
"Doctor who?"
"Doctor Chapel," Spock said, met Jim's eyes and added, "Christine."
"Ah…" Jim put the book carefully back onto the shelf. "Well, looks like someone tried to force the spirit on you." He turned around to Spock who was plucking the tinsel from his desk chair. "You think there's more to this?"
"It is suspicious," the Vulcan said, "taking into account all that happened so far, the damaged door for instance."
"Yes, but why would someone force open your door twice without doing anything before decorating the third time? It doesn't fit."
Spock pursed his lips. "Indeed. You have an idea?"
Grappling for ideas, Jim said, "I…suspect one of our friends could be behind it. Bones, for instance."
"It could have been a misguided attempt at forcing me to take part in the seasonal traditions," Spock said, nodding slowly.
"He might have simply been trying to cheer you up, Spock," Jim said with a soft smile. Although he had not intervened, he had noticed some sort of tension between the two of them.
"Jim, I do not need cheering up."
Jim shrugged. "Let's find out," he said, and hit the intercom button, contacting Bones.
The doctor's answer was short and definite. "Humbug!" he said when asked if he had decorated Spock's cabin. "Why would I do such a cockamamie thing?"
"Just asking around, Bones," Jim said, stifling his laughter. "Well," he said after closing the frequency. "Wasn't Bones."
"I see," Spock said and moved to the intercom himself. "Mr Chekov, please report to my cabin immediately."
"Aye, sir," came the hectic reply, and Jim could hear the confusion in his voice.
"Pavel wouldn't dare," he said.
"He might dare," answered Spock. "And he is chief of security."
Pavel Chekov arrived moments later, stopping abruptly in his tracks after barging through the door.
"Uh, yes? Commander Chekov, reporting as ordered. Sir." His look jumped between the decorations and his superior officers, one looking even more grim than usual, the other on the verge of laughter.
"Mr Chekov, do you know anything about this?" the Vulcan asked.
"Why yes, those are Christmas decorations, Mr Spock."
"Very perceptive," Spock said and sighed. "Do you know how they got here?"
Chekov shook his head. "No, sir."
Spock furrowed his brow and Jim bit his lip, trying fervently not to look too amused.
"Very well," Spock said, deciding to believe in his protégé's innocence. "Mr Chekov, I am ordering a security investigation. My room has been entered without my consent at least thrice. My door has been damaged two days ago, sickbay was broken into yesterday, and today…" He motioned around the room. "Today, this happened."
"Uh, yes, sir…" Pavel said, exchanging a look with the Captain who only shrugged. "But was anything taken, sir?"
"Mr Chekov, we are faced with a crime." Spock pursed his lips at the lack of seriousness.
Pavel Chekov looked around and nodded. "Indeed. You missed a spot, over your bed." He turned to leave, to start the investigation, then hesitated. "Are you alright, sir?" he asked, with a concerned glance at his superior.
Spock pursed his lips, again. "I do not know."
Chekov exchanged a worried glance with Kirk.
"Dismissed, Commander," Spock said, and Pavel left.
After some moments of silence, Spock turned to leave as well.
"Where are you going?" Jim asked, hurrying after him.
"I am following up a suspicion. Recent events have been highly irregular."
He left his cabin, followed by Jim, and, of course, Christine Chapel and Saavik.
"This could be it," Christine said. "We've got his attention."
Saavik sounded doubtful. "That might be, but that does not mean he will arrive at the right conclusion."
Saavik turned out to be right in her doubt. Spock was indeed suspecting that something was wrong. But just what he thought that was, they only realised when they arrived in sickbay.
"I haven't found a replacement yet," Doctor McCoy growled as Jim and Spock rushed into his office.
"That is not why I am here," Spock said.
"Well, what is it, then? I already told you I didn't decorate your cabin."
"I am here to ask you to ascertain if I am still fit for duty."
McCoy put down the PADD he had been working on and looked up at Spock, looking worried for the first time since their abrupt arrival.
"Why?" he asked, already running a scanner over the Vulcan. "This concern is unlike you."
"Many things that have happened lately are unlike me, Doctor. For lack of a better descriptor, I feel haunted."
"Haunted?" McCoy glanced at Jim who seemed as clueless as he about the Vulcan's sudden agitation.
"Strange incidences have been occurring around me. The food synthesizer gave me soup instead of salad, my door is damaged, and my cabin got decorated, to name just a few."
"Spock, Chekov will find out who did the decorating," Jim said. "And we've all been experiencing malfunctions. That does not mean there's something wrong with you."
Spock averted his eyes and asked softly, "Then why do those instances remind me of them? Of her?"
To his bewilderment, Jim chuckled, and McCoy put his scanner away, both wearing an expression of relief.
"Spock, there's nothing wrong with you," Jim said, smiling up at him.
The doctor agreed. "I can run more extensive tests on you, Spock. But the physical tests will turn out fine, same as my scan just now, and all my psychological evaluations will arrive at the same answer."
"And that is?" Spock asked, oblivious to his friends' shared diagnosis.
"That you're haunted," the doctor continued, "by grief."
"Doctor, I am an experienced officer," Spock protested. "This is not the first lethal accident I was witness to."
McCoy shook his head. "Guilt is a powerful emotion. We know they were important to you. You say these…incidences…remind you of 'her'. I assume you mean Christine?" Spock nodded and McCoy went on, "Well, you might have had some unresolved business with her, some things you never told her but wish you did…" He trailed off, sensing that Spock did not wish to talk about it.
"It's normal to experience stress," Jim said. "You couldn't have done anything."
"And who knows," McCoy piped up, "maybe a miracle happens and we return to Starbase 12 to find we can beam them up this time, materialized from the storm."
Spock shook his head. "I do not believe in miracles," he said curtly.
"That sounds a bit too pessimistic," Jim said, a smile forming around his lips.
"Especially when you're a walking miracle yourself," McCoy added.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am not. The circumstances of my death and rebirth were the product of my sacrifice and burial, the magnificent but not miraculous work of a brilliant group of scientists, and the use of a Vulcan ritual."
"You make it sound like the easiest thing in the world," McCoy grumbled. "Dying, coming back to life. No problem for our pointy-eared messiah."
"Doctor, you purposefully misunderstand," the Vulcan admonished him. "The fact that it is explainable does not make it any less remarkable. 'Miraculous', however, has the connotation of some mystic influence. My death and rebirth constitute a causally cohesive sequence. There is nothing mystic about it."
McCoy folded his arms across his chest and glared reproachfully at the Vulcan. "Well don't forget in all your cohesiveness that I played a part as well. I carried your soul all the way over into the New Testament."
"Into the New Testament?"
McCoy grinned. "From Genesis to the Resurrection."
Well, they did get Spock's attention, just not with the outcome they planned. And as he does not believe in miracles, is all hope lost for Christine and Saavik? We will see...