Disclaimer: Talk to Berman and Braga. Though I'd like to think I'm more fun to talk to…as fun, at least?
Yes, today is Saturday. Time for a new chapter! This one's a bit different from our last few…and a bit different from the ones coming up! Read on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
When one is aboard a starship in deep space, days of the week tend to take on little meaning. Ship's time, though having no connection to any planetary time, is kept scrupulously. The date was kept according to the date on Earth. The Stardate was designed to transcend planets and systems. But the day of the week tended to slip away. However, if there was any day that served as Sunday aboard the Enterprise, it was today. A larger than average percentage of the crew had their official day off, lending an atmosphere of holiday to the ship. Perhaps it was odd to have less than a full crew on duty under present circumstances, but Spock judged it illogical to deprive the crew of potentially needed rest. Besides, there probably would have been widespread rebellion if he had tried.
Kirk caught on to the tone of the day when he arrived at the bridge at seven and Spock wasn't there yet. On the news that an entirely different than usual bridge crew would be arriving for the Alpha Shift, Kirk opted to abandon the bridge for a while and wander the ship a bit instead. He didn't actually end up wandering much though. It wasn't long before he wandered into the arboretum and stayed. He'd been lured there by simple curiosity, and stayed there for two reasons: for the trees, which reminded him of Earth, and for the large picture window looking out on the stars. So for almost an hour Jim Kirk sat among the trees, looked at the stars, and thought.
There was much to think about. He was in a devil of a situation. He couldn't—or wouldn't—sell the Enterprise. He couldn't decide which verb better applied—couldn't or wouldn't—and finally concluded it didn't really matter. The crux of the situation was, nothing would satisfy the Sharks save the sale of the Enterprise, and that was the one thing Kirk wasn't going to do. And there, in a nutshell, was the problem.
So he was going to follow his tried-and-true method of handling untenable situations. Change the rules, change the goals, change anything, just pull out a victory one more time. The goal, right along, from the first time he had seen the Enterprise in the Palladium system seven days ago, had been to use the ship to make a fortune. It couldn't be done. Starfleet didn't pay ransoms, and he wasn't selling to anyone else. So it couldn't be done. So he wouldn't try. Change the goal, forget the money. Like he told the Sharks—other things were more important. He considered the situation anew from that angle. An obvious question arose. If he wasn't going to sell her, what was he going to do with the Enterprise? Well…he could keep her. For a heady moment Kirk seriously considered the possibility. Considered the possibility of staying on the Enterprise, of being, essentially, her captain, not just for a few days or a week but for good, for a year, for five years. For that moment he considered the idea, then had to regretfully discard it as impossible. Spock was willing to play chess with him and McCoy was willing to pass time in Sickbay in conversation, but they and the rest of the crew would undoubtedly balk at the pirate usurper trying to become permanent captain. Even if no one liked Lowell very much, he had the rightful rank and position. And anyway, even if the crew would go for it, Starfleet wouldn't. Command had been rather oblivious for the last week, but they wouldn't be forever. They only had twelve starships. They weren't going to let a pirate keep one of them, and they had the power to wrest her back. So he couldn't keep her. So the only possible goal he had any hope of achieving was simply to get himself and the Enterprise out of this in one piece. And to do that there was only one possible course. He was going to do exactly what he'd been accused of before: he was going to cut a deal with Starfleet.
The deal as he envisioned it was simple enough. An agreement to hand Spock the codes to control the ship in exchange for a blind eye when Kirk stole the Sharks' vessel and ran. Spock could do whatever he liked with the Sharks. Kirk was doubtful he could win their trust back, and was fast concluding that he didn't really care anymore. He could put enough of the Sharks' ship on automatic to get him into orbit around any planet he chose, and once he got there he could sell the ship for a fair stack of credits. It wasn't the Enterprise, but he also didn't have to split it 26 ways. Two at most, if he decided to drag Harry along. Either way, it would be enough money to hold him in good stead until he figured out what he was going to do now, now that he was cutting loose from the gang.
It was a pretty good plan. He had every intention of carrying it out. As he left the arboretum around eight, he was feeling more in control of the situation than he had since the Romulans mentioned dismantling. But he didn't exactly rush to execute the plan. He told himself that he could certainly afford a few hours and it only made sense to wait for a convenient moment. The fact that once the plan was carried out it would mean saying good-bye to the Enterprise and her crew, in all likelihood forever, may have had something to do with it also. So when he left the arboretum it wasn't to go to the bridge and hunt up Spock. It was to go to the Mess Hall and hunt up breakfast.
The Mess Hall hummed with its usual activity, a hum that let Kirk in with hardly a pause or a change in tone. It seemed a particularly light-hearted buzz this morning, an effect brought on partially by the nature of the day and partially by their heading pointed away from the Romulan neutral zone. There was only one discordant note in the pleasant hum, and that was the cloud of hostility hanging over one long table—the Sharks' table. Kirk knew there was no point in going over there, and he didn't want to anyway.
His eyes roved the Mess Hall for somewhere else to sit. He couldn't exactly go sit down next to just any member of the Enterprise's crew. Though they were certainly a less hostile group than they'd been a week ago, they still weren't exactly openly friendly. With a few exceptions.
Kirk got some toast and coffee from the nearest replicator and walked over to where McCoy was eating breakfast. "Morning, Bones," he greeted him.
McCoy looked up from his scrambled eggs, and as he looked at Kirk an odd expression appeared and vanished again from his face. It was almost…guilt. Kirk didn't understand it, and it had been so brief that he decided to dismiss it.
"Morning. And it's McCoy."
"Right," Kirk agreed. "Mind if I join you?"
"Fine with me."
Kirk set down his plate and snagged a seat on McCoy's right. "Thanks. Can't sit over there," he said with a nod towards the Sharks. "They're furious that I didn't sell the ship."
McCoy shifted. "Yeah, about that…I did say that was good, right?"
Kirk nodded. "Yes."
"Okay, good, 'cause that was…" He shrugged. "Good."
Kirk looked at him questioningly. "So, uh…do you have a point with this?"
"No. Not really. Just I've been thinking. See, not only was it good, it was confusing. Very confusing. You completely threw me off, which left me with not much to say besides that I'm a doctor not a—"
"—pirate leader," Kirk put in smoothly.
"Right. So I've been thinking, and I wasn't sure I quite got it across that that was also…"
"Good?" Kirk suggested.
McCoy nodded. "Yes."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"On that note, how are the eggs?"
"Fine, but they need more salt." McCoy blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Kirk grinned. "Nothing much, but the conversation was getting positively serious."
McCoy was skeptical. "You're down on serious conversations, but you spend time with Spock?"
"Not the same thing. A conversation with Spock is one thing, a conversation with you is something else. You're, ah, rather different."
"No kidding. I can think of few people I'm less like than—"
"Speak of the devil," Kirk interrupted, referencing the old adage of speak of the devil and he'll appear. Spock was walking through the Mess Hall, tray in hand.
McCoy shrugged. "Well, with ears like that…"
Kirk elbowed him, then called, "Hey, Spock, over here!" A pause. "Bones, don't kick me."
McCoy scowled, and applied himself to his eggs and ham.
Spock, meanwhile, looked in Kirk's direction, blinked once, then, probably because he didn't know what else to do, walked in that direction.
"Join us," Kirk invited, indicating the chair across from him.
Spock hesitated. "I had planned to read an interesting new treatise on the relative speeds of electrons in—"
"I take it upon myself to save you from that. Sit."
Spock appeared dubious, but he sat. "I do not think I need 'saving,' as you put it."
"All right, maybe you don't need to sit there, but I need you to sit there."
Spock's eyebrow rose in silent query.
Kirk grinned. "You're sitting across from me. If a Shark comes up behind me, phaser drawn, I expect you to warn me. All bets are off if it's Gray, of course, in which case warning me would be a violation of loyalty to Starfleet, and I wouldn't ask you."
"I see," Spock acknowledged.
"Strange," McCoy mused. "A pirate asking Starfleet to defend him from other pirates."
"Hold it, I can defend myself," Kirk objected. "I just want a warning if a pirate's about to shoot me in the back."
"There is a distinction," Spock agreed.
"I know there's a distinction," McCoy said irritably.
"Then perhaps you should have made that distinction clear when you initially originated this line of conversation."
McCoy scowled. "Now listen, I—"
"Can the two of you," Kirk interrupted, "exchange two sentences without irritating each other?"
"Irritation is a human emotion with which I am totally unfamiliar."
"Gonna sell me the Brooklyn Bridge too?" Kirk asked.
Spock blinked. "Pardon?"
Kirk dismissed it. "Nothing. But anyway, I bet you could get along with each other, if you tried hard enough."
"Unlikely," McCoy said dryly.
"Come on, try," Kirk urged. "Two sentences."
"I don't think—" McCoy began.
"Two."
"I hardly—" Spock started.
"Just two."
Spock and McCoy gave up on objections, and silence descended.
"Any time now," Kirk prompted.
McCoy frowned, and finally said, "How's your breakfast?"
"Palatable," Spock said stiffly.
"There, see? Two sentences," Kirk said triumphantly.
"Short sentences," McCoy pointed out. "Though there's not much to be said about his breakfast."
Spock's food was something less than a conversation piece—various cut fruits and water.
"I fail to see a problem with my food," Spock said mildly.
"It's just kind of boring, don't you think?"
"No."
"Looks boring to me. Don't you ever want food that's a little more…interesting?"
"Food is not required to be 'interesting.' Merely sustaining."
"But interesting is nice, and that's not interesting."
"But it is healthy. I prefer simple, nutritious food. Nor do I eat the flesh of beasts."
McCoy stopped with a forkful of ham halfway to his mouth. "And what's that supposed to suggest?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
Spock's eyebrow rose. "That I do not eat the flesh of beast. Likewise I avoid food with grease and excess fat."
McCoy glared at Spock over his plate of admittedly greasy eggs and ham. "Thank you, I don't need you to tell me about healthy eating. I can handle my own health!"
The Eyebrow rose. "One would not think so after observing your eating habits."
"Keep your big Vulcan nose out of my eating habits!"
"I fail to see what my nose has to do with—"
"Enough," Kirk broke in.
The two men lapsed into silence, a sulky silence on McCoy's side of the table, an impassive silence on Spock's side.
"That's absolutely amazing." Kirk looked between them, both amusement and disbelief written across his face. "You really can't carry on a reasonable conversation without irritating each other."
"Can't say we didn't warn you," McCoy pointed out.
"No, you warned me, you both warned me. I just can't figure it though. I mean, I get it, you're emotional, you're logical, the two aren't mixing very well. But how you can start an argument over something as non-controversial as breakfast…"
"I should think it would be obvious. He aggravates me," McCoy said bluntly.
"You are hardly the epitome of humanity yourself, Doctor," Spock said blandly.
"Now see here—"
"Maybe," Kirk said, deliberately interrupting McCoy, "you enjoy the arguments. Have you considered that?"
"Maybe we just dislike each other."
"Dislike is a human emotion with which—"
"—you are totally unfamiliar, we know, Spock," Kirk and McCoy chorused in unison.
"I don't believe that, by the way, but we can argue that some other time. As I was saying," Kirk went on, "have you considered that you might enjoy the arguing?"
Spock and McCoy considered it.
"I guess they liven things up a little," McCoy acknowledged doubtfully. "It's pretty dull around here."
"Dull. Aboard a starship." Kirk positively winced.
"Aboard this starship, it is dull," McCoy said firmly. "When we're not hijacked by pirates. You do make things interesting, I'll grant you that."
Kirk grinned. "Glad to know I'm accomplishing something. Now, getting back to the original point—"
"Why go back to it?" McCoy asked. "Let's talk about it being dull. I mean, what's so interesting about talking about us?"
Kirk shrugged. "Because no one's given me a good answer yet."
"What's the question?" McCoy asked.
"Why do you two dislike each other so much? So you're different. So what? I thought the Federation was all about overcoming differences. Different doesn't necessarily mean hostile. And besides, you do have some things in common."
They both looked at him doubtfully.
"Well you have more in common with each other than you do with me!" Kirk pointed out.
"Maybe," McCoy acknowledged. "But it's kind of irrelevant anyway. The fact is, we don't get along."
"And on that brick wall statement, I'm going to hunt up another cup of coffee." Kirk stood up, grabbed his coffee mug, and headed for the replicators.
Spock calculated to the inch how far Kirk had to walk to be out of earshot in the crowded Mess Hall. When Kirk had reached the precise point, Spock turned to McCoy and said, "I have obtained the codes."
McCoy jumped. "Kirk's codes?"
"Of course."
"So…we could retake the ship."
"If we could neutralize Mr. Kirk, yes."
McCoy shifted. "About that…um…"
Spock looked at him sharply. "We have established that this is the only option."
"I know, I know, but…I'm just not exactly comfortable with the whole idea of eating breakfast with a man at eight, and then clapping him in the brig at ten!" McCoy hissed.
"Perhaps you should have considered that before you ate breakfast with him."
McCoy glared at him. "What about you? You're not at all uncomfortable with this?"
"Discomfort is a human—"
"Oh shut up, Spock!"
Kirk came back in time to catch that last line, too late for anything before. He sat down, shaking his head. "That does it, I wash my hands of it. I go for a cup of coffee and by the time I get back you're at each other again. I give up on preventing it." He took a sip of his coffee. "Maybe I had it right to begin with. Maybe you do enjoy it."
"Doubtful," Spock said calmly.
"Now wait, don't just dismiss it," Kirk told Spock with a grin. "In fact, I bet he makes you a better Vulcan."
The Eyebrow shot up.
McCoy blinked over his eggs. "I do what?"
"No, I'm serious," Kirk protested. "Bones, you—"
"McCoy."
"Yes. You badger him about his logic. That forces you, Spock, to organize your thoughts and present them clearly and convincingly. And since you're forced to do that, you become a better Vulcan. Which is good."
"It is?" McCoy said doubtfully.
"Sure it is. And as for you, Bones, I suspect you just like to argue. You enjoy the debate."
"If I enjoy it so much, why hasn't anyone told me?" McCoy asked.
Kirk laughed. "Look, right or wrong, I bet you haven't looked at it this way before."
"No," Spock said pointedly.
"Y'know what, let's hunt up a new topic. Anyone else feel like we've talked this one to death?" McCoy asked.
No one will ever know if anyone else felt that, as just about then the red alert siren went off.
For a heartbeat everyone in the crowded Mess Hall froze. No movements, no voices, no sound save the howling sirens of the red alert. Then on to the next beat, and everyone was in motion.
"Damn," Kirk said, shoving his chair back and rising. Then he was off and running for the bridge, Spock only a step behind. McCoy hesitated a breath, and then, either because he was curious about what was happening on the bridge, because he didn't think he'd be needed too badly in Sickbay, or just because he was following his gut, he beat a path after Kirk and Spock.
They made it to the bridge in 93 seconds exactly, by Spock's count, beating the rest of the regular bridge crew by almost seven seconds.
Kirk came to a halt with one hand on the back of the command chair and looked at the viewscreen. Then he said something in Rigelian, and not a very polite something either.
Three great hulking ships loomed on the screen, blotting out great swathes of stars behind them.
"Are they pirates?" Uhura asked, as she took her place.
"Oh, they're pirates, all right," Kirk said grimly. "And they're not just any pirates. That's the Orion Syndicate. They're the best, and the worst, in the business. They're the best at what they do, and what they do is the worst kind of business.
"They're slavers. And they're damn good at it."
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Next chapter soon, and in the meantime, replies:
Mzsnaz: Ah yes, the good Doctor, and Spock to a certain degree, are definitely reluctant to see Kirk thrown in the brig. Though Spock wouldn't admit it for the galaxy. Glad you liked the Scotty scene—it seemed like a good spot for him, especially since he hasn't been used very much.
Kyer: The "dear lunkhead." LOL! A drinking bout…ooh, I like that! It's too late in the game now, but I'll keep it in mind for revisions.
Beedrill: 30: Y'know, I don't know whether this was the Romulan who made first visual contact in this universe or not either. But either way, he's definitely the same one from the regular universe. I had to have the explanation regarding how McCoy knew what Spock's father looked like because I was wondering that too! 31: Oh it was illogical, and he is in trouble. Was that Elaan of Troyus, where they said his girl was the Enterprise? Oh good, you liked the last bit of chapter 31! I love that line too! 32: Hmm, good Riker quote. Scott was referred to as Scotty in chapter two, by McCoy, where I established that they're good friends in this universe…never ended up doing too much with that though. McCoy is definitely there to gloat. I always thought Meriwether was a strange name. Between Lewis and Clark they've got three first names (Lewis, Clark, and whatever's Clark's first name is, I forget) and one last name (Meriwether), and they've got the order hopelessly confused. And I know exactly what you mean about finishing a good book. And I'm flattered you're applying it to my story!
Samantha: Yeah, poor Kirk is very bewildered in this universe…because in this universe it's not wise for him to fall for the Enterprise, whereas in the regular universe it was perfectly natural. Closeness between Kirk and Spock, a few hesitations…yeah, they're coming. Good observation on Spock's many vehement lectures.
Alania: Yep, Scotty's back. He's less present than the big three of Kirk, Spock and McCoy, true. Lots of Pirate music, very cool, and you play the violin, very cool!
Crazy Elleth: Isn't McCoy usually close to strangling Spock…? : )
AliciaF: Definitely McCoy likes Kirk just a little. Assuming you mean that in a strictly platonic sense, as I trust you do.