Anyone care about my life? If not, skip ahead, there's a story buried in here somewhere. Anyway, I've been busy. Primarily doing stuff that I hate which prevents me from doing stuff I love. Rather than writing a fun ST story, I agonized over a story that I mostly hated in the process. It doesn't quite make me want to puke now, but I'm not totally satisfied. If you'd like to read it anyway, let me know. I'll email it to you. It has nothing to do with Spock.
I was going to write a long boring paragraph here about writing, but I'll leave be. Just get to the story, Blynneda, if anyone wanted to listen to you ramble on about your dull life, they'd, I don't know, fly to your town and track you down and ask you. Okay, sorry.
This is my excuse to (over)use a bunch of technobabble. If you don't understand it, don't worry. I don't either. If any chemical details contained within are incorrect, bite me. I haven't taken chemistry in years, and not very happily then.
Chekov vs. Chemistry
The crew of the Enterprise were trying to establish a biological colony on the planet Snorkicle 6 and were encountering numerous problems. We will discuss only one of them here.
"What's the problem?" Kirk asked, chin resting tiredly in his hand.
"The problem, Captain, is that the Oscarium is the incorrect isotope for our purposes," Spock explained patiently from his science station perch, despite the fact that this was the fourth time he was patiently explaining it.
Kirk turned in his chair, already anticipating the rebuttal from the doctor.
McCoy was right on cue. "And I've already described—in detail—why it isn't a problem!" he cried from just behind the captain's chair.
Kirk winced and covered his left ear with his hand. "Bones, I'm a foot away from you. And I recall the excruciating detail you're referring to."
McCoy
decided, against everyone else's better judgment—that another run through his
plan was in order. "See, all we need to
do is stick a sample under the neutral festucator, change the settings for
Oscarium, add a little WlYO…Nurse Chapel could work on it, she's got a
background in biochem. Then we alter
the isotope, easy as that—"
He snapped his fingers to emphasize the simplicity of his proposed experiment.
"Doctor, I didn't ask for another explanation." Kirk wiped his hand along his face to massage his temples, as if the chemical debate actually hurt his head. With McCoy and Spock on either side of it, it probably did.
"No, but I'm giving it to you. Don't listen to that overlogical nutjob over there."
"Doctor, what you are suggesting is technically impossible," Spock argued calmly.
"You only say it's impossible because it's never been done before!" McCoy threw his hands up in the air.
Kirk scratched his head. "Well, that is a valid point."
"Oh, I see, it's fine when Scotty throws out some ridiculous suggestion that betrays the laws of the universe and more than likely would destroy the entire ship, but when the doctor suggests something, that's a totally different story!"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "We have not yet been destroyed."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "'Yet.'"
Kirk scowled. "You mean this plan of yours might destroy the ship?"
McCoy glared back. "If you don't approve of it, you'll have more problems from me than a ship exploding."
Kirk's eyes widened, and he looked at Spock.
Chekov turned around in his chair, where he had until now been quietly attending to his navigation duties. "Doctor, you are forgetting the Zherkovian Principle. A stable isotope of a plasmoid element cannot be coerced into forming an unstable isotope." [A/N: I made this up, so don't go checking your chem book or anything.]
McCoy turned his glare on the Russian. "What, are you taking Spock's side, now?"
Chekov looked innocent. He obviously had not been in many debates where the stakes were as high as in a McCoy-Spock argument. "No, Doctor," he replied, in a surprised tone. "I am simply stating a videly accepted chemical principle."
"Well, knock it off! Quoting scientific theory to me like I've never opened a science book in my life," McCoy grumbled to himself. "I'm a doctor! They don't hand out medical degrees to chimps!"
"Despite the obvious disregard your institutions have for medical skill, it would seem logical that non-sentient creatures would not be deemed proficient in highly technical arts," Spock commented dryly.
Kirk, McCoy, and Chekov stared at Spock for a moment. "I'm not sure if Spock was complimenting you or insulting you, Bones," Kirk murmured.
"Based on previous experience, I'll assume the latter," McCoy replied. "Regardless, I think it should be clear I know what I'm talking about."
"I am a science officer, Doctor," Chekov said modestly.
McCoy snapped back, "You're a navigator! I didn't go through twenty years of med school to be talked down to by a cadet fresh out of the Academy!"
Chekov was offended. "I am an ensign, Doctor, sir," he said haughtily.
Kirk twisted his head around to look at McCoy. "Twenty years? What, did you flunk?"
McCoy shrugged. "It's an exaggeration. For effect."
The right side of Kirk's mouth twitched upward. "What effect were you going for, med school reject?"
McCoy ground his lips together without a reply.
Spock decided to add his input. "Actually, Ensign Chekov is correct."
Chekov nodded in silent acknowledgement and turned back around in his chair, to readjust the course setting so that the Enterprise did not crash into the star directly in their path.
"These new kids are getting mouths on them," McCoy commented dryly.
"They are, aren't they?" Kirk replied noncommittally.
McCoy chuckled to himself.
Kirk glanced back. "Something funny, Doctor?"
"I was just remembering my chem lab as an undergrad. You wouldn't believe the problems I had," he said with a smile.
Kirk cautiously eyed the doctor. "What sort of problems?"
McCoy waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, you name it, we did it—usually wrong! I could never the damned Bunsen burner lit, and then once when I did, the gas was turned up so high, the flame shot a foot into the air!" McCoy demonstrated with wide, expressive gestures. "And then," he started to have trouble speaking through his laughter, "then my lab partner Julia and I—if there was any way to screw up an experiment, we found it! Not intentionally, of course…Good lord, I can't tell you how many crucibles we broke that year."
"Really," Kirk said, a bit nervously now.
"Really!" McCoy agreed. "Oh, and you know those table tops that are impervious to chemical spills and whatever else you can do to them?"
"Yes?"
"Well, they're not," McCoy said, by way of explanation.
"I see," Kirk said.
McCoy shook his head, still smiling. "It's a wonder how I got to be a doctor."
Kirk shifted in his chair. "You took the words right out of my mouth."
McCoy patted the arm of Kirk's chair. "Don't worry, Jim, I've learned how to use a Bunsen burner since then."
Kirk didn't appear ameliorated. "That's…comforting."
"So, anyway, I should head down to the lab and get things started. I'll fire up the ol' festucator. You don't have to approve, because I'm gonna do it anyway."
Spock looked back at McCoy and Kirk. "Captain," he said warningly, "the doctor is ignoring certain information that would dramatically alter his experiment."
"Nonsense, Spock! Of course I know what I'm doing!" McCoy declared. "Oscarium is element 312, which means it's a quantum crystal."
Chekov spun around again. "Actually, Keptin, Oscarium is element 327, which classifies it as a plasmoid."
"Do you want to go down to sickbay for a physical, Ensign?" McCoy growled.
Chekov blinked. "Right now, sir?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Doctor, why do you constantly threaten people with medical care?"
"Hear, hear," Kirk muttered, raising a hand in a mock toast.
"Incidentally," Spock continued, "Ensign Chekov is correct. As previously stated."
"I know the periodic table," Chekov announced proudly. "It was inwented by the Russians!"
McCoy finally snapped. He shouted across the bridge at the navigator, startling everyone, including, perhaps, Spock. His southern accent was strongly pronounced as he lost control. "Will ya shut up about the Russian inwention thing? Guess what, Boris? The Russians didn't invent nothin'!"
Kirk had covered both his ears in McCoy's tirade, his arms wrapped around his head. Chekov was stunned, possibly even a bit frightened. Spock regarded the doctor coolly, watching him as he panted and sweated.
"Actually, the periodic table developed on Earth was first organized by Dmitri Ivanovich Mendeleev, of Russian origin."
Chekov grinned and turned around.
McCoy stared at Spock for a long time. Nobody on the bridge spoke.
Spock raised his eyebrows at McCoy, as if prompting a response.
McCoy looked at the floor, then stepped up to the level of the turbolift. "Well," he said casually, "I'll get right on the Oscarium experiment. Let me know if you plan on dropping out of warp."
After he left, Kirk commented, "Now, why would he need to know that?"
Chekov shrugged. "Obwiously, sir, he knows notheeng about astrophysics, either."
Okay, so it's a little more Bones vs. Chemistry than anything, but that's okay.
On the next exciting episode: Would you like to sit right back and hear a tale? A tale of a fateful trip? Stay tuned!
