Disclaimer: Ah dinna own Star Trek, laddie.
Reviewer Replies
Unrealistic: I'm glad you read it, and even gladder you think it's hilarious. I will continue happily typing.
Tavia: Yes, I posted a ton at once. I was visiting my grandparents and I couldn't connect my computer to the Internet. But I kept typing and then posted everything when I got back. I'm very happy you liked it.
mzsnaz: Actually, Spockov came from my email address. I hope they talk to each other again, that would make Star Trek quite interesting!
*** Identity Crisis ***
Chapter Seven - The Melted Watcher
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
By the time a whole day had passed, McCoy was all but tearing out his hair. There was nothing to do, nothing to talk about, nothing to even think about. Every once in a while, Roberts of Chekov would begin a conversation about something stupid, like some new video game (which McCoy cared nothing for), but before the conversation got anywhere the noise became so irritating McCoy snapped at them to shut up.
He hated the silence, but noise was irritating as well. Spock had sunk into some sort of Vulcan meditation, Roberts had fallen asleep, and Chekov was staring at the wall.
McCoy just wanted to do something. Anything.
He stood up, just to stretch his legs. He walked over to the wall and leaned against it. He was stretching his legs. He just wasn't walking around.
The wetness on his back from the melting ice was annoying, but standing there just feeling the growing wet spot on his back gave him something to do.
-
Far above him, the walrus-like inhabitant of Seti Olan Two gurgled in annoyance. She had set up a Watcher to monitor what the captives were doing, but now the one called MuhKoi had gone and leaned his back against it.
It was certainly interesting to watch the prisoners. The Watcher was a psychic connection between her and a certain patch of ice. It was a very useful psychic connection.
But now she was worried. These captives- MuhKoi, S'Pok, ChehCov, and RohBertz- had so much body heat. They could melt the Watcher ice. Then she would have to go down and visit them herself to make a new Watcher.
MuhKoi melted the last of the Watcher.
The walrus-thing glurghed as hard as she could (A/N: Glurgh: Say glurgh, but sort of gurgle in the middle of it.) and sent a message to three others.
The walrus-thing slid down the chute, mentally loosening the debris she had blocked it with. She slid into the cell to meet four very confused humans.
Had he believed in luck, Spock would have felt rather unlucky. The reason for his possible absence of luck had started when Chekov had nearly landed on him. Then hours later, a veritable amount of ice and rock from the chute followed by a walrus-like alien did land on him.
It shocked him out of his meditation, mostly because either the rock or the walrus alien (or maybe both) had broken his leg. It had already been weak from falling into the cell, but this had done it. Human bodies were so weak sometimes.
There was also the fact that while the aliens were smaller than walruses, they were still large and heavy. Very heavy.
He half-crawled, half-inched his way over to the wall and leaned against it. Luckily, being in Chekov's body did little to his ability to control pain. He did not know, however, if a healing trance would still work.
He maintained a calm face as the walrus-like thing spoke. The first part, Spock was sure, was only in his mind.
"Say what?" McCoy asked, though he was itching to go over and see if Spock was all right.
"We're here because we wanted to know about your planet," McCoy said. At this point, the prime directive did not mean very much. Anyway, they were obviously not from Seti Olan Two.
Chekov and Roberts kept silent. This was the kind of thing senior officers were supposed to handle.
"We do not." It was Spock who had spoken this time.
The walrus-thing glubbed happily. (A/N: "Glulp! Glulp!") She turned to the three others and said,
But to the humans (and Vulcan) she said, She would get rid of them now. But she couldn't kill them. She was connected to them now.
Well, she couldn't kill them in the normal way.
For she had sneezed. It was not a sneeze like a Terran would make. It was in her mind, and it reached out to the minds that matched and changed them. Switched them.
The only way to fix the sneeze was to destroy what it had changed, using an ancient method.
Torture.
"I cannot come with you," Spock said calmly.
The walrus-alien thought at him irritably. She wanted to rid herself of the products of her sneeze.
"You broke my leg." Spock made this sound like he was commenting on the weather, not talking about painful injuries.
The walrus-thing didn't know how to respond to this. She sighed (well, the walrus-thing equivalent) to herself.
I will take you one at a time then. By the time you, S'Pok, are the only one left, you will be able to come.
Roberts knew what was coming next. Normally he would be petrified, because he would be a red-shirt. But now McCoy was the red-shirt, and there was that unwritten law that red-shirts died first...
Sure enough, the walrus-like aliens who had accompanied the first one grabbed McCoy. Roberts watched his own body disappear with the aliens.
This would have struck Roberts as funny if some strange aliens hadn't just dragged off Dr. McCoy. Who knew what they were going to do with him?
-
McCoy was in the process of wishing very hard that he knew what was going to happen to him. The walrus-things were very strong with their stubby hands, and their grip was icy cold.
He had no idea where he was, because they hadn't brought him up through the chute; they had simply disappeared. He had no idea why they hadn't just appeared in the cell. It would have made it easier for Spock, in any case.
Or would it? Because if Spock hadn't gotten hurt, all four of them would have been taken along with McCoy...
This was too confusing.
McCoy was brought into a dark room. All he could see in the darkness was glints of what he supposed was ice.
But as light entered the chamber from somewhere he couldn't see, it became obvious that the glinting objects were not composed of frozen water.
They were weapons.
Not high-tech weapons either. It was a collection of daggers, knives and swords. Jagged edges, curved edges, straight edges, but all of them sharp edges.
the walrus-thing commanded.
McCoy felt an over-powering urge to lay down on a stone table in the middle of the room. He fought it, but the more he resisted the more he wanted to lie on the table. He finally gave up and sat on it.
There was still the need to lie down. So, tired of resisting, McCoy complied.
He felt immediate relief upon lying down, but there was a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.
The fact that one of the walrus-things had picked up a dagger didn't help the feeling.
The dagger was a nice one; it had a hilt that appeared to be made of some sort of black metal and a short, gleaming blade that looked very sharp.
The walrus thing raised the dagger over McCoy's head.
So this was the end.
The walrus-thing brought the blade swooshing down.
-
-
-
-
-
-
Hehe, evil cliffhanger! Well, I suppose it would be eviller if I stopped writing, but as it is, the next chapter will probably come out in a day or two. But anyway, now you can wonder just what will happen to Doctor McCoy...
Reviewer Replies
Unrealistic: I'm glad you read it, and even gladder you think it's hilarious. I will continue happily typing.
Tavia: Yes, I posted a ton at once. I was visiting my grandparents and I couldn't connect my computer to the Internet. But I kept typing and then posted everything when I got back. I'm very happy you liked it.
mzsnaz: Actually, Spockov came from my email address. I hope they talk to each other again, that would make Star Trek quite interesting!
*** Identity Crisis ***
Chapter Seven - The Melted Watcher
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
By the time a whole day had passed, McCoy was all but tearing out his hair. There was nothing to do, nothing to talk about, nothing to even think about. Every once in a while, Roberts of Chekov would begin a conversation about something stupid, like some new video game (which McCoy cared nothing for), but before the conversation got anywhere the noise became so irritating McCoy snapped at them to shut up.
He hated the silence, but noise was irritating as well. Spock had sunk into some sort of Vulcan meditation, Roberts had fallen asleep, and Chekov was staring at the wall.
McCoy just wanted to do something. Anything.
He stood up, just to stretch his legs. He walked over to the wall and leaned against it. He was stretching his legs. He just wasn't walking around.
The wetness on his back from the melting ice was annoying, but standing there just feeling the growing wet spot on his back gave him something to do.
-
Far above him, the walrus-like inhabitant of Seti Olan Two gurgled in annoyance. She had set up a Watcher to monitor what the captives were doing, but now the one called MuhKoi had gone and leaned his back against it.
It was certainly interesting to watch the prisoners. The Watcher was a psychic connection between her and a certain patch of ice. It was a very useful psychic connection.
But now she was worried. These captives- MuhKoi, S'Pok, ChehCov, and RohBertz- had so much body heat. They could melt the Watcher ice. Then she would have to go down and visit them herself to make a new Watcher.
MuhKoi melted the last of the Watcher.
The walrus-thing glurghed as hard as she could (A/N: Glurgh: Say glurgh, but sort of gurgle in the middle of it.) and sent a message to three others.
The walrus-thing slid down the chute, mentally loosening the debris she had blocked it with. She slid into the cell to meet four very confused humans.
Had he believed in luck, Spock would have felt rather unlucky. The reason for his possible absence of luck had started when Chekov had nearly landed on him. Then hours later, a veritable amount of ice and rock from the chute followed by a walrus-like alien did land on him.
It shocked him out of his meditation, mostly because either the rock or the walrus alien (or maybe both) had broken his leg. It had already been weak from falling into the cell, but this had done it. Human bodies were so weak sometimes.
There was also the fact that while the aliens were smaller than walruses, they were still large and heavy. Very heavy.
He half-crawled, half-inched his way over to the wall and leaned against it. Luckily, being in Chekov's body did little to his ability to control pain. He did not know, however, if a healing trance would still work.
He maintained a calm face as the walrus-like thing spoke. The first part, Spock was sure, was only in his mind.
"Say what?" McCoy asked, though he was itching to go over and see if Spock was all right.
"We're here because we wanted to know about your planet," McCoy said. At this point, the prime directive did not mean very much. Anyway, they were obviously not from Seti Olan Two.
Chekov and Roberts kept silent. This was the kind of thing senior officers were supposed to handle.
"We do not." It was Spock who had spoken this time.
The walrus-thing glubbed happily. (A/N: "Glulp! Glulp!") She turned to the three others and said,
But to the humans (and Vulcan) she said, She would get rid of them now. But she couldn't kill them. She was connected to them now.
Well, she couldn't kill them in the normal way.
For she had sneezed. It was not a sneeze like a Terran would make. It was in her mind, and it reached out to the minds that matched and changed them. Switched them.
The only way to fix the sneeze was to destroy what it had changed, using an ancient method.
Torture.
"I cannot come with you," Spock said calmly.
The walrus-alien thought at him irritably. She wanted to rid herself of the products of her sneeze.
"You broke my leg." Spock made this sound like he was commenting on the weather, not talking about painful injuries.
The walrus-thing didn't know how to respond to this. She sighed (well, the walrus-thing equivalent) to herself.
I will take you one at a time then. By the time you, S'Pok, are the only one left, you will be able to come.
Roberts knew what was coming next. Normally he would be petrified, because he would be a red-shirt. But now McCoy was the red-shirt, and there was that unwritten law that red-shirts died first...
Sure enough, the walrus-like aliens who had accompanied the first one grabbed McCoy. Roberts watched his own body disappear with the aliens.
This would have struck Roberts as funny if some strange aliens hadn't just dragged off Dr. McCoy. Who knew what they were going to do with him?
-
McCoy was in the process of wishing very hard that he knew what was going to happen to him. The walrus-things were very strong with their stubby hands, and their grip was icy cold.
He had no idea where he was, because they hadn't brought him up through the chute; they had simply disappeared. He had no idea why they hadn't just appeared in the cell. It would have made it easier for Spock, in any case.
Or would it? Because if Spock hadn't gotten hurt, all four of them would have been taken along with McCoy...
This was too confusing.
McCoy was brought into a dark room. All he could see in the darkness was glints of what he supposed was ice.
But as light entered the chamber from somewhere he couldn't see, it became obvious that the glinting objects were not composed of frozen water.
They were weapons.
Not high-tech weapons either. It was a collection of daggers, knives and swords. Jagged edges, curved edges, straight edges, but all of them sharp edges.
the walrus-thing commanded.
McCoy felt an over-powering urge to lay down on a stone table in the middle of the room. He fought it, but the more he resisted the more he wanted to lie on the table. He finally gave up and sat on it.
There was still the need to lie down. So, tired of resisting, McCoy complied.
He felt immediate relief upon lying down, but there was a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.
The fact that one of the walrus-things had picked up a dagger didn't help the feeling.
The dagger was a nice one; it had a hilt that appeared to be made of some sort of black metal and a short, gleaming blade that looked very sharp.
The walrus thing raised the dagger over McCoy's head.
So this was the end.
The walrus-thing brought the blade swooshing down.
-
-
-
-
-
-
Hehe, evil cliffhanger! Well, I suppose it would be eviller if I stopped writing, but as it is, the next chapter will probably come out in a day or two. But anyway, now you can wonder just what will happen to Doctor McCoy...