Disclaimer: Don't own Star Trek, am REALLY running out of funny ways to say that.
C'thia: [sigh] Do hate to lose readers through death. But hey, laughing oneself to death has to be a fun way to go!
Meredith: Heehee…I get the feeling you liked these chapters. ^_^ Price is Right…intriguing.
Ruanek: Whaaaat? You're upset because there wasn't a cliffhanger? Outrage right back at you! Clearly any goals of making every reader happy just went out the window. Oh, and BWAHAHAHAHAHAH!
EmpressLeia: You thought it was 'poor Kirk' last chapter…read on, read on.
Keridwen: Hiccups…ooh, that could be interesting…
Rihannsu (formerly Starseeker formerly Stargazer formerly Ensign Expendable): Of course politically correct. Of vital importance. =D
Trekker-t: Whoa, wait a sec. Nothing illegal? This must be clear! Only technically not illegal! Barely within the letter of the law! Barely! As you shall soon see… By the way, I am thoroughly flattered by your final line. : )
So sorry, my dear readers, at the length of time this took! Between writer's block and homework…ARGH! But that's okay! New chapter! The continuing adventures of Harry Mudd aboard the Enterprise…
Chapter Twenty-Two:
Technically Speaking…
Because, technically, he can do nothing else, Captain Kirk has released Harry Mudd from the brig. Meaning that he is somewhere at large on the ship. And it seems there will be trouble rectifying that:
Kirk was keeping a stranglehold on his self-control, and contented himself with saying, "Admiral, I don't think you quite understand." He was in his quarters, talking via subspace communications to Admiral Stufshertt, Starfleet Command, Earth. "All I am proposing is that we backtrack to the planet, drop off Harry Mudd, and then continue our mission to Rhenium VI."
Admiral Stufshertt was being difficult. "No, I don't think that would be good, not good at all. Those supplies you're carrying need to get to the colony as soon as possible. Of the utmost importance, you understand."
"We have a cargo hold full of pineapples!"
"The colonists on Rhenium VI take their fruit very seriously," Admiral Stufshertt said severely.
Kirk took a breath. "Yes. I know. However, my science officer estimates the detour would take only 5 hours, 46 minutes, and 16 seconds, so—"
"I don't think the colonists would be pleased about waiting an extra 6 hours for their fruit," Admiral Stufshertt decided. "Surely, Captain Kirk, you can handle a civilian aboard ship for the three days it will take you to reach the colony. Give him a tour, keep him happy, you can put him on another ship at Rhenium VI, and they will take him home. No problem at all." And with that, the admiral signed off.
"Right. No problem," Kirk echoed faintly. Just like a tribble was no problem. Or a goose. Or a crazed Klingon with a bat'leth.
For a wild moment, Kirk considered disobeying orders and going back anyway. And then for an equally wild minute, he thought about bypassing the trip back and tossing Harry out an airlock right here.
He really couldn't do either of those though. He would simply have to stick it out. Somehow.
* * *
Passing by the open door to Rec Room 3, Spock heard some very strange sounds. First there was a rattling as of two small objects being shaken together, then a clatter, rather as though the small objects had hit the floor, a call of "Snake eyes!" from a reasonably familiar voice, and a general murmur of displeasure, from a crowd of perhaps half a dozen. Spock decided it might be wise to investigate. He entered, and stood near the door, unnoticed by the people present.
There were indeed half a dozen crewmembers there, gathered in a half circle with none other than Harry Mudd at the center. They seemed to be involved in some sort of game involving dice, and were apparently betting money based on the numbers that came up. A rather pointless way to spend one's salary, Spock felt.
Apparently one of the crewmembers had just rolled the pair of dice across the floor, and come up with two ones, which seemed to be a bad thing. Now Harry Mudd was rolling. He was doing much better than the crew, judging by the dark looks shot in his direction. Spock watched for several throws before interrupting.
"Mr. Mudd, you are cheating," Spock said calmly.
Harry and at least five of the six crewmembers went white upon the realization that the first officer had been watching. Harry pulled himself together the fastest.
"Why, Mr. Spock, I am insulted!" Harry blustered. "How dare you accuse me—"
"You just rolled a three and a four six times in succession."
"Skill!" Harry declared.
"This is a game of chance," Spock pointed out.
"Luck," Harry said, changing tack with remarkable speed.
"Perhaps. However, the odds against you are astronomical."
"Have you never heard of Lady Luck?"
"Whoever she is, I do not see how she could help you prevail against odds of…if you will give me a moment to calculate." Spock stared into space for precisely 2.3 seconds. "The odds against you are two billion, one-hundred seventy-six million, seven-hundred eighty-two thousand, three-hundred thirty-six. To one." [A/N: Assuming I've done the math correctly.]
The statement effectively ended the game. Though Spock would have done that anyway.
* * *
"A crap game? He was running a crap game?!" Captain Kirk was not pleased.
"Running, playing, and cheating," Spock noted. He was on the bridge, and had just concluded reporting on Harry's latest activities.
"The man is a menace to all decent society," Kirk fumed. He brightened after a moment though. "We've got a regulation against gambling in space. I can toss him in the brig now and be done wi—" Spock was shaking his head. "What?"
"I have already marked the infraction in the records of the crewmembers involved in the game, incidentally. As for Harry, however, as he is a civilian he cannot be held responsible for our regulations if he has not been formally informed of them. He has now been warned, but, technically, we cannot hold him for this instance."
"Technically, technically! I am beginning to hate that word," Kirk grumbled.
"That is not logical," Spock observed.
"This may shock you, Mr. Spock, but that doesn't bother me in the least."
Spock decided to refrain from commenting that that wasn't logical either.
"Harry, now. Harry bothers me. You know what?" Kirk decided, "I don't care if we don't, technically, have anything on him. He's Harry Mudd. He's done something. I'll toss him in the brig now and worry about charging him later."
"Starfleet will not be pleased if you place a civilian in the brig without apparent cause," Spock pointed out.
"Starfleet will survive," Kirk said dismissively. "They always do. I'll defeat a Klingon ship or two next week, keep 'em happy. Today, though, Harry is going into the brig and—"
"I advise against this course of action, Captain," Spock said.
That drew Kirk up short. He generally made a point to listen to Spock, as Spock generally knew what he was talking about. "Okay. Why shouldn't I toss him in the brig, where he clearly belongs?"
"Starfleet is already displeased with you. They were rather upset when you diverted to the Guardian of Forever two weeks ago."
"They allowed that afterwards," Kirk countered.
"They were still not pleased. Nor did you gain any popularity by threatening to defect to the Romulans last week."
"Starfleet is too sensitive," Kirk muttered.
"Both instances are merely the latest in a long list. Putting a civilian in the brig could result in severe ramifications. The proverbial, 'straw that broke the camel's back,' I believe humans might say."
"So the point is, I put Harry in the brig, they're liable to put me in the brig."
"Nothing so drastic most likely, but, technically, that is correct."
Kirk threw up his hands. "Fine! Give him the run of the ship! Why not?! But when we crash into a sun, Starfleet just better not complain about the cost of a starship to me!"
* * *
Things were quiet in Sickbay. Peaceful. Most likely because none of the command personnel were currently in need of medical attention. McCoy could usually bully any other crewmember into listening to him. So things were quiet. Such was not the case in the corridor outside Sickbay, as the medical personnel discovered the next time someone entered, and the general noise and hubbub entered with them.
McCoy was prepared to ignore the whole thing, go on with his work, and assume that whatever was happening in the corridor would sort itself out. But then he recognized what was by far the loudest voice, and changed his mind. It was Harry Mudd. And Harry Mudd, inevitably and always, meant trouble. McCoy decided it might be wise to investigate before things got too far out of hand.
Out in the corridor, Harry was standing next to a large crate of glass bottles, which were filled with a murky blue liquid. He had gathered quite a crowd, and seemed to be giving a speech.
"Come one, come all!" Harry was shouting. "Be the first ones to gain access to the latest development in medical science!"
McCoy leaned against the edge of the doorway. This should, if nothing else, prove entertaining.
"I am currently the sole proprietor of this new substance, which I have humbly named 'Mudd's Miracle Serum.' I guarantee, it will cure what ails you, for an unbelievably low price!"
"Can we get some specifics on what it cures?" someone in the crowd asked.
"What have you got?" Harry asked in return.
"What does it cure?" the crewmember countered.
"Whatever you have, it will cure it! Backache, gout, tennis elbow, xenopolycythemia…whatever you've got, 'Mudd's Miracle Serum' is the answer!"
"That is, without a doubt, the most scientifically bogus statement I have ever heard," McCoy broke in dryly.
Harry seemed a little taken aback upon the realization that the chief medical officer had been listening. Senior crewmembers coming up behind him was becoming uncomfortably frequent. He, as always, recovered quickly.
"Why Doctor McCoy! Are you doubting the validity of my statement? Surely you are open to new advancements in medicine."
McCoy was about to retort with 'Not when they come from crooks like you,' but thought of a better idea. "You know, Harry, maybe you have got something here. And if so, wouldn't you like to have an actual medical school graduate examine your, ah, serum?"
"Oh…well, I…don't think that's necessary, you see—"
"What's the matter, Harry? Hiding something? Surely there's no reason you wouldn't want me doing some analysis?"
There were murmurs in the crowd. "Yeah, Harry, whatcha hiding? Maybe we shouldn't buy into this…"
Harry saw his prospective customers rapidly losing any faith in him. "Hiding something? No, no, I couldn't be more willing! How much do you need for your analysis, Doctor?"
McCoy smiled. "How much have you got?"
"Three gallons, in eight-ounce bottles. Perhaps only—"
"Three gallons sounds about right," McCoy decided. "I'll just take the whole crate, and see what I can discover."
"All of it?"
"Of course. And anyway, I couldn't let you sell any on the Enterprise until I'm sure it's exactly what you're claiming it is."
"Well…I suppose. If you insist."
"I do."
* * *
"So do you want to hear what Harry did this afternoon?" McCoy asked Kirk over dinner that evening in the Mess Hall.
"No, I really don't," Kirk snapped.
McCoy waited.
Kirk sighed. "All right, give it to me straight, I can take it."
McCoy related the events of the afternoon to a somewhat less than happy Kirk. But there was a bright spot.
"So what was in the serum anyway? Anything illegal?" Kirk asked hopefully.
McCoy shook his head. "Nah. I analyzed it and found out it was basically sugar water and food coloring."
"Nothing even faintly medicinal?" Kirk grinned. "We've got him then! I'll accuse him of false advertising! He was marketing and selling sugar water as medicine which it is not and—" McCoy looked doubtful. Kirk frowned. "What?"
"Well, I'm a doctor not a lawyer, but I think the imperative point is 'and selling.' And I stopped him before he sold anything. It's a technicality, but…"
"I'll arrest him anyway and send him to the brig and then Starfleet will be upset and it won't work after all so never mind."
McCoy blinked. "That was quite a bit of thinking out loud there."
Kirk shrugged. "You know what the real problem here is?"
"Harry?" McCoy guessed.
"Nah, all this mess with Harry is just an offshoot of the real trouble."
"And that would be?"
"I haven't done anything heroic recently. Not on a large scale anyway. Really, what have our missions been lately? Studying plants. Riding airplanes. Ferrying ambassadors. Delivering fruit. Nothing important. Do you know how long it's been since someone fired on us? Months!"
"And this is bad?"
"Remind me to save a planet next week," Kirk said, rather the way anyone else might comment on remembering to buy eggs at the store. "If I do something really impressive Starfleet'll be happy and leave me alone for a month at least, and then I can throw anybody I want into the brig without Command batting an eye."
* * *
A new day was dawning on the Enterprise. Kirk did not take to it well. Harry was still on the ship, still out of the brig, probably still causing havoc, and there was absolutely nothing he, Kirk, could—technically—do about it. Not a pleasant thought to start the day with.
Second thought was something of an improvement though. Second thought was that he ought to stop by the ship's gym on the way to the bridge. The security department, while very proud of their recent capture of Harry, was a little embarrassed regarding the accidental stunning of Smith. As such, they were setting up a special morning of target practice in the gym. Hopefully this would improve their odds in the future of hitting the enemy. Not each other.
Entering the gym, all appeared to be as it should be. Lots of men in red shirts milling around, a line of old-fashioned bulls-eye targets along one wall. A few people were lined up with phasers, firing at the targets across the way. Kirk let his eyes stray to the along the line of people firing, and stopped on the farthest. He froze.
The last one in the line was not in a red shirt. Or any other shade of Starfleet uniform. It was, of course, Harry Mudd. With a phaser. Kirk headed there and something just short of a run.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Kirk said tensely.
"Oh, hello, Kirk," Harry said. Yet another senior officer sneaking up on him. This was becoming intolerable! He wasn't doing anything even faintly illegal though. Therefore, he was completely calm. "I'm just doing a little target practice here. That is the point, isn't it?"
"Harry, put down the phaser," Kirk said in more than a little alarm.
"Nonsense, Kirk. I'm an old pro at this."
"Harry, put down the phaser!"
"Ridiculous. Just let me fire at this target across the way, you'll see…" Harry took aim, and fired.
By pure chance, a certain Ensign Jones happened to be standing near the targets. Just as Harry was aiming, Jones decided perhaps he should move. He walked towards the group at the opposite end, staying on the edge of a direct line to the targets.
Harry's aim wasn't nearly as good as he claimed it was. Rather than hitting the target, he hit Jones. Who dropped to the floor.
There was silence. Broken quickly by Kirk.
"I knew it, I knew it!" Kirk snapped, snatching the phaser away from Harry. "One shot! One lousy shot, and you manage to…hit…someone…" A rather strange expression came over Kirk. A toss-up between delight and fury. "Harry…do you know what you just did?"
"Purely by accident, Kirk, purely by accident, I—"
"You just stunned a member of my crew," Kirk said pleasantly.
"Perhaps so, but—"
"You fired a phaser, without provocation, at a member of my crew," Kirk said with continued pleasantry.
"Technically, yes." The words were Harry's undoing. "However—"
"Technically, Harry? Technically?" Kirk grinned. "Do you know what I'm going to technically do to you?"
Harry sighed. "I do have some suspicions."
"I am going to, technically, toss you into the brig and, technically, throw away the key!"
"I will appeal this!" Harry threatened.
"Ah, but at the moment, I, technically, have sufficient reason to keep you in the brig. I'm sure Starfleet will agree. I can't allow you out unless you win an appeal, which will be at the next Starbase we come to. And until then…"
Security guards were brought to the scene, and Kirk personally escorted Harry down to his cell. As an after thought, someone called Sickbay to take care of Jones.
* * *
Kirk came strolling onto the bridge shortly later. Spock observed that Kirk appeared to be in an excellent frame of mind, and commented upon such.
"You know, Spock, I am. I really am," Kirk said cheerfully. "My day is looking up. My whole week has improved!"
"And precisely what led to this sudden change in outlook?" Spock asked.
Kirk beamed. "Harry shot a phaser at Ensign Jones!"
Spock looked at him for a moment. "I see," he said, then returned to his science station, proving that Vulcans can, technically, lie.
Next chapter should be a wee bit…zanier, shall we say…up as soon as humanly possible!