[dances around room] It's here it's here it's here! Christmas vacation is finally here! It's the most wonderful time of the year! Stories for posting, marshmallows for toasting, and—oh wait, you didn't click in here to listen to me sing, did you? Wait, let me guess! You're looking for a new chapter! I just happen to have one! Had the first half written since Thanksgiving, but then my lovely teachers ALL decided to pile us up with work just before Christmas vacation, isn't that wonderful of them? Anyway, it's finally written!
But before I get completely away from Christmas, I have to stick in a little free advertising. I don't anticipate a 'React' Christmas chapter, but I do have a story up under Star Trek: Other titled "How the Klingons Stole Christmas." I think you'll find it amusing.
Now, of course, I must reply to all those lovely reviews I got (anyone even remember what they wrote anymore, after three weeks? ^_^) Speaking of which, we broke two hundred, didn't we? How awesome is that? You guys are the greatest!
Grace: Believe me, I really wanted to post too. But…teachers are crazy. Insane. Totally bonkers.
Silverfang: Q…hmm, funny you should mention Q because— [claps hand over mouth] nope, not saying it, never mind, ignore me.
Smenzer: [grins] I always love hauling in another person to read my insanity. I don't know when Bones will look at Jones' psych file, but there is a reference to Jones' psych coming up.
Blynneda: [blinks] Iowa…mixed up…what? [rereads line] Oh, whoops, did I imply Lincoln was from Iowa? No, no, two separate thoughts here. Kirk is from Iowa, therefore American. Thanksgiving was made a national holiday during Lincoln's presidential term. Lincoln was from…Illinois, I think? Yes, Spock, discovers it's all about the texture. That's in a scene that somehow didn't quite get written, in which Spock single-handedly eats half the mashed potatoes.
Keridwen: Naw, she didn't ask me about Thanksgiving. We ought to drag her over here anyway though, that would be fun. Not feasible, but fun. Anyway, I get the feeling you liked Spock smashing the potatoes. ^_^
Emp: I know. Everything happens to Jones. He's doing pretty well in this chapter, actually.
Trekker-T: Oh yes, cooking the potatoes! McCoy explained that part when he arrived, after he recovered from laughter that Spock of all people was making the mashed potatoes of all things.
Elf: Chopsticks?! Oh wow, that would be sort of difficult, wouldn't it?
Hanakin: Naw, I had a feeling it wasn't quite what you were thinking but…[shrugs] it was a holiday party gone wrong. ^_^
Ael: Hmm, maybe I was more traditional than I thought. Judging by several of you, nontraditional is traditional. [shrug] Live turkey, eh? That must have been interesting.
Whateveryournameis,I'veofficiallygivenup…okay, okay, Tricksy Hobbitses: the word 'appalled' is vaguely amusing…reminds me of a line in…let me think, I believe it was "Eugenics Wars." Wonderful book. Anyway, Kirk leaves Spock in command at one point, says he's glad he can trust him or something like that. Spock says, I quote, "I would be appalled if you had thoughts to the contrary." So I'm sitting here, appalled. I mean, really! Spock! Appalled! Mildly disturbed yes, but appalled?! Never! Okay, I am soooo far off topic by now…amazing how that happens.
Silverfang: Now, tell me the truth here. You're a member, aren't you? A member of what, you ask? Why, the SPCR! The Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Redshirts! Yeah, yeah, I'll be nicer to Jones. Remind me next chapter to tell you a little story about how I'm not being mean to Jones in regard to these coming chapters. You'll see.
Okay, I think that's everything. Maybe we can actually get to the chapter. But first…
I just want to refer to a quote by Khan. It's about a certain dish. Best served cold. Keridwen, Blynneda, and especially the one who keeps changing her name: this one's for you. Everyone else, you got caught in the crossfire. I hope you enjoy anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Nine:
A New Mission
Kirk was very happy. Jones was very worried. McCoy was muttering dire forebodings, and Scotty was checking, double-checking, and triple-checking pretty much everything. The cause for all this? Their latest mission; patrolling near the Klingon Neutral Zone:
Spock was a bit confused about something. And as he was most often confused by the Doctor, that was the logical place to go for explanation. Which is why he was in Sickbay this particular morning.
"Everyone aboard is absolutely certain that we will, sooner or later, be in a battle with Klingon ships." Spock seemed faintly surprised by this state of affairs.
McCoy rolled his eyes. "And you know why? That's because sooner or later—probably sooner—we will be." McCoy seemed to feel it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy.
"Federation ships have been known to patrol the Klingon Neutral Zone for weeks or months without ever engaging in battle," Spock pointed out. "The entire purpose of neutral zones is to prevent conflict."
"Sure. Other ships," McCoy agreed. "But this is the Enterprise."
"I am aware of that fact. What bearing does that have on the issue?"
McCoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Spock! We're the Enterprise! We get into trouble! It's inevitable. We visit an apparently uninhabited world, there's sure to be weird and hostile aliens running around. We try to visit Earth, we'll bump into a time warp and wind up in 1960. We patrol near the Klingon Neutral Zone, and we're going to fight Klingons. It always happens."
"Therefore, according to the Law of Averages, it is only more likely that this time everything will be peaceful."
McCoy shrugged. "Theoretically, maybe. In actuality? It's a lot like Murphy's Law. 'Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.'"
"That statement is not based in logic," Spock observed.
"Glad to hear it," McCoy said blithely. "It applies the same way to us. Anything that can happen to the Enterprise will happen. It's just the way things are."
"You are in rare form today, Doctor. Your argument is completely, entirely, and unashamedly illogical," Spock observed.
"But true," McCoy countered. "And you know what, I'll make you a bet on it too."
Spock's eyebrow rose. "A bet?"
"Yes, a bet. Next time we get to a halfway civilized planet, you, me, Jim, and anyone else we happen to drag along are going to dinner. If Klingons show up, you pay. No Klingons, I pay. Agreed?"
"The odds are not in your favor."
"I'll worry about that. Agreed?"
Spock considered for a moment, then nodded. "Agreed."
* * *
[A/N: We're going to have a radical departure, and try to be serious for a while. Can you imagine? I haven't done this since…never. I have written serious stories, but I have never posted anything serious. Amazing. Well, nothing like a new experience. Be nice, everyone. I'll be funnier next chapter.]
A week passed. No sign of Klingons. Yet.
And then it happened. Two weeks in. That fateful day, that fateful moment, that fateful sound all Starfleet officers know and dread.
"Red alert!" Sirens whooped, red lights flashed. "Battle stations! Battle stations!"
Crewmembers are very rarely at battle stations when the call to battle stations goes out. Consequently, what you don't see when the camera stays to the bridge, is a lot of people running a lot of directions. (Also quite a few collisions.) You see, there's no telling where a person might be when the red alert goes out. In this particular instance, Kirk, for example, happened to be in engineering. And before Scotty could finish saying, "Looks like a wee bit of trouble now," Kirk was sprinting for the bridge. Or rather, the turbolift that would get him to the bridge.
In under a minute and a half Kirk was stepping out on the bridge, before the turbolift doors were even half open, and asking, "Report. Anyone."
Spock stood up from the central chair. "Three Klingon birds-of-prey just came out of the neutral zone, and are fast approaching."
If McCoy had been there, he undoubtedly would have asked how fast. And Spock, undoubtedly, would've known. But McCoy was in Sickbay, and Kirk was preoccupied by the Klingons, and didn't really care how fast they were arriving, just that they were.
Kirk settled into his command chair. He was apprehensive, of course; no one likes it when the ship's in trouble. And yet…this was why he had become a captain. This was what it was all about, not ferrying pineapples and minor ambassadors.
Jones chanced to be on the bridge as well. He'd been there when the alert started, and hadn't trusted his knees to let him run anywhere else. He sunk into a seat at the back of the bridge, he hoped out of the way. He resisted the urge to hide under the console. This, oh yes, this was why he should've listened to Dr. McCoy and become a janitor. Or something. No question.
You may have noticed something about Jones. If not, allow me to explain. Every time he gets into trouble he panics, wonders why he didn't get out of security when he had the chance, and figures he's done for. However, he never makes a connection between each incident. So every time he survives, he figures, well, that's okay after all, now there's no reason not to stay.
But who can dwell on Jones' psyche while there are Klingons fast approaching?
"Shields are up, sir. Should we bring weapons online?" Chekov asked.
Kirk considered. "Not yet. Let's see if we can find out what's happening first. Uhura, hail the Klingons."
"Hailing frequencies open, sir."
"This is James T. Kirk, captain of the starship Enterprise. Identify yourself," Kirk said crisply.
As generally happens when they hail people, the person being hailed turned up on the main viewscreen. It was, to no one's surprise, a Klingon captain. His expression was somewhat less than friendly. "I am Captain Kagon, of the House of Dusor, commanding the Klingon bird-of-prey Kaldane. And you have currently violated the treaty by entering Klingon space."
Kirk blinked, but hid his surprise well. "You're mistaken. This area is part of the Federation."
Kagon smiled unpleasantly. "I am not mistaken. This area is in dispute."
Kirk gestured to Uhura, who cut audio for a minute. "Why," Kirk asked the bridge in general, "wasn't I aware of that little detail?"
"We discussed it some time ago, Captain," Spock commented. "This area is in dispute, and is currently tied up in the court system. You concluded that we should go through this area regardless, because the Federation currently considers itself the owner. In addition, we would be unlikely to encounter Klingons and, I quote: 'if we do, that's simply the risk we take. And risks are our business. When man first looked at the stars—"
"Right, right, I remember," Kirk cut him off. Oh, right, that little unimportant-sounding detail the bureaucracy was dealing with. How could that cause problems? Funny how risks looked better before they blew up on you. Oh well, if risks never went bad they weren't very risky. He gestured at Uhura again, and the audio returned. "Now, Captain…Kagon, was it? It looks to me like we're at something of an impasse. This area may be in dispute, but Federation maps clearly mark it as being part of the Federation."
"And Klingon maps show it as being part of the Klingon Empire," Kagon commented.
"We don't use Klingon maps." An edge had entered Kirk's voice.
"We don't use Federation maps," Kagon countered. "Clearly, the only way to settle this is war."
Kirk had a strange feeling about this. He knew Klingons tended to go to war with little provocation, but this was a bit extreme. "Has it occurred to you that neither one of us really cares about this sector of space? Or that our respective governments will probably argue about it in the courts for the next twenty years, and whether we kill each other today or not won't make any difference at all?"
Kagon nodded. "It has, Kirk."
"Ah. Then explain to me why we're fighting. I like to understand motivations and things before I start randomly shooting at people." Well, granted, he didn't always… well, he didn't a lot, but it was much easier to be lax on things like that when one was planetside and the ship itself wasn't in any particular danger. If he was going to take the Enterprise into battle against a Klingon who had given every indication of being either irrational, insane, or just extremely bloodthirsty, he'd like to know why.
The Klingon smiled, and Kirk was somehow reminded of a wolf. "Let me make this simple. I have one goal. I want to destroy you, Kirk."
There was a general intake of breath around the bridge.
Nothing quite like a blunt Klingon.
Especially one with three ships to back up his bluntness.
Either Kirk was missing something important, or Kagon had insane delusions of grandeur. Either way wasn't a positive. Years of practice kept Kirk's pose casual. "Well. How interesting. However, I've heard that it is often preferable to want rather than to have. Illogical, but true. Therefore, perhaps some other time."
"No, Kirk. I've waited long enough. Not some other time. Today."
And with that the viewscreen blinked back to a view of the starfield. And the three Klingon ships.
[A/N: If the Klingons' motivations and whatnot are a wee bit muddled at this point, I had a lot of trouble with this scene. Explanations are coming later, I promise.]
"We seem to be in for it," Kirk commented. If he was trying to lighten the mood, it didn't help much.
"The Klingons are charging their weapons," Chekov reported.
Also clear to everyone who happened to glance at the viewscreen, the Klingons were moving into battle formation.
"Phasers online," Kirk ordered. "Evasive maneuvers."
The next four minutes were fast and furious. The Klingons were good. No one bird-of-prey stood a chance, but three together, all well coordinated, they might have had a slight edge. The Enterprise held her own, of course. They scored several direct hits, and at least one bird-of-prey had to have systems failing all over the ship. It was still limping along in formation though. The Klingons made a few scores too, and the Enterprise had shields down to sixty percent. Nothing significant had gone though.
But then, there was trouble. The Klingons coordinated their fire very carefully, scored some rough hits in the same places, aft shields went out briefly, and the next time Kirk ordered Chekov to fire, he got no results. Chekov fired, but the phasers were ignoring all requests to actually shoot anything.
Clearly, phasers were out.
Kirk, of course, called engineering. "Scotty, I need those phasers!"
The chief engineer sounded a bit harried. "Three minutes, Captain! It's the best we can give ye!"
If it had sounded like Scotty was right next to the comm unit, Kirk would've kept arguing. But it sounded like he was shouting from across the room, a pretty good indication that he was working on the phasers even as he spoke. Which was a pretty good indication that, for once at least, three minutes really meant three minutes.
"All right, but be fast!" Kirk flipped off the comm link, and turned his full attention back to the battle, mind working furiously. With shields at 60% and no phasers, they didn't stand a chance for three minutes. Engines were still working though. "Mr. Sulu, can you outrun them long enough for the phasers to get back online?"
The helmsman's mouth was set in a grim line. "I can try, sir. Their formation has us pretty well boxed in…"
"Do what you can," Kirk urged, other ideas and strategies flitting through his head, every one hitting a dead end.
"There's a gap there," Sulu gasped, and the ship dove.
A couple of rolls and twists, a lurch as the ship was hit again, and then they were past with empty space ahead. Empty of ships, that is. They were less than a minute from the nearest star though, and its long string of planets.
"Maneuvers around the planets," Kirk ordered. "See if we can confuse them long enough to—"
"Aye, sir."
They slipped past the nearest planet, a cold dead rock, Klingons howling in pursuit behind. Made a sharp turn around another planet with a couple moons, and gained a little more time. By the time they were speeding towards a large gas giant, the Klingons were pretty far behind. Kirk had a vague thought that they were a little too far back, but dismissed that as ridiculous. Sulu swung them by the gas giant, a large orange and red sphere.
And then all hell broke loose.
Four Klingon cruisers surged out of the wispy fringe of the gas giant. Dead ahead of the Enterprise.
"Ambush. They were in ambush," Kirk murmured dazedly. No use shouting 'shield's up.' They were up; at low strength. Phasers were still out. "Evasive!"
Sulu tried. But as Kirk said it, and as Sulu tried to swing the ship around, they and everyone else knew it wouldn't help. The Klingons were just too close. All eyes were riveted to the viewscreen as the four Klingon ships loomed closer and closer. And then they were gone from view, hidden in a massive fireball of Klingon disruptor fire.
The ship lurched and bucked, straining to hold together against the power being flung at her, and Kirk lost his grip on his chair arm. He pitched forward, to lie unmoving on the deck. Chekov and Sulu were knocked against their consoles, while Uhura was flung against the upper railing. Spock, with an iron grip and excellent reflexes, kept to his chair and even managed to grab Jones as he went tumbling by. Alarms went wild, consoles sparking and smoking. The lights overhead sputtered and died, and the bridge went dark.
* * *
The alarms were tripled in engineering. Lights and sirens flashed. Engineers ran every direction at once, and Scotty stood near the phaser controls and shouted at the ship, "All right, already! I hear ye!" The sirens didn't listen. Scotty looked around, and shook his head sadly. "Och, me poor lass…"
And then it was back to work, to salvage and fix whatever of this mess they could.
* * *
And, unknown to everyone aboard, in a small, dark, deserted corridor not far from Sickbay, shimmering red pillars, one after another till there were twenty or more, were coming into being.
The Klingons were beaming aboard.
It's raining here. No snow. But it's still pretty cold.
Will be posting again soon.
Happy Holidays!