Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I do not own Crime and Punishment or A Conneticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, only copies of those books. I do own, however, all the pirates and the ship and the plot and the…well that's about all I own actually…

Chapter 3

Wednesdays are only slightly better

I was becoming very intimate with sickbay; it's once eerie silence was now a symphony of quiet noises that blended together to form a very pleasing melody to read by. I could see why Carpenter lived here. It was becoming a sanctuary instead of a prison, I just can never tell him that. I had finished Crime, and was very eyesore, by mid afternoon. I was staring off into space when I felt that presence again. The Vulcan was awake again. I left my reading terminal and sat on an empty bed next to him.

"Hey, how ya feeling?" He still had pain and confusion in his eyes, but it was only in traces, not as evident as they were yesterday.

"Better, I believe." His voice was still that gravely baritone, but neither laced with so much pain, nor as slurred. He was staring at me, and for some reason, it felt perfectly natural. Odd, usually when people stare at me I have the sudden urge to shoot them. Got into a lot of fights that way. He spoke again, "Should not the captain of a vessel be on the bridge?"

I grinned, "Yeah I should, but I enjoy making sure that my guests are as comfortable as possible. You were pretty stoned last night, so I came back to check on you."

"'Stoned'?" He looked at me quizzically.

"Stoned, um, out of it, drugged, delusional, cognitively challenged, sick." He looked away from my face to digest this. Gave me the time to study him. Carpenter or one of his assistants had changed the bandages on his face and cleaned up all the residue of blood. He had a calming face, stoic but not bland. It was somewhat long, which added to the calming aspect of it, with high cheekbones and deep set eyes. The Vulcan haircut and eyebrows gave him a devilish appearance but his eyes; there was something about his eyes that I could not place.

"So," I started, "You got a name?" My question evoked a cacophony of emotion that played out across his face. I probably could have timed it better, but I needed to know the extent of his amnesia, if he had any, and that was the only question I could think of at the time.

He looked back over at me. "I…I cannot remember…what my name is." The eyebrows drew together, he was thinking hard and I could tell that it hurt. "I cannot remember who I am…or where I am from…" He was forcing his voice to be calm, but there was fear in it. I needed to help him and I had no idea how.

"Alright, calm down. It's gonna be okay."

"How can you be certain of that statement?"

"Because I'm a pirate, and I can bloody well make anything bloody well happen."

"That statement is illogical." I grinned, the fear in his voice and on his face was gone.

"So? Piracy is illogical. If you're gonna stay here you better get used to it."

"I…I am staying here?"

"Well, where the hell else are you going to go? I can't have an amnesiac Vulcan wandering around the galaxy. That's stupid. No, you're staying here until you get your memory back and I'm gonna help you all I can."

"How?"

I shrugged, "To tell you the truth, I'm making this up as I go." He had that quizzical look again, I had a feeling that I was gonna see that a lot.

"If I will be residing here," he said at last, "I believe I shall need a name."

"Yeah, I guess you will." He was staring at me almost expectantly. "Whoa, you want ME to name you?"

"I cannot name myself, as I do not remember any names that would be acceptable, nor do I wish to choose one which the members of your crew would find offensive or incoherent."

"Dude, my crew is made up of the dregs of the galaxy, names don't offend us and I've heard just about every name ever conceived."

"Then you would be the better candidate to devise a name for me." I suddenly remembered why I didn't like Vulcans, too much logic. I sighed and began to mentally list all the names that would be somewhat acceptable to him. I can't believe I'm doing this. What the hell do I know about naming people, much less an adult, male, logic spouting, bloody living computer. I stood up and began pacing the length of the room. I knew that he was watching me and probably getting dizzy from my travelling back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and now I'm getting dizzy.

"What about…" I stopped, that wouldn't do, I paced some more. "Or…no…that won't work." More pacing, "How about…?" More pacing and then I stopped abruptly. "Saul."

"Saul?" There's that look again. He seemed to be digesting the name with all its connotations.

"Yeah, Saul, what do you think? Good?" I paused, if he said no then it meant more pacing.

"It is acceptable."

"Thanks, I think. Well, Saul, welcome to the Crimson Assurance." He seemed content just having a name. I guess that little bit of identity was all he needed at the moment.

"Major? What is your first name?"

"What do you mean?"

"I believe that it is customary for humans to have both a first and a last name. I only know the latter. Since we have been discussing names, it seemed the logical time to ask what your first is." Vulcans, logic, I really hate it some times…

"My first name is Katherine. But I hate it and all renditions of it. The last guy who called me by my first name ended up missing several vital organs. I suggest that you don't make his mistake." I think he wanted to ask why I didn't like my name, but I think he also had the good grace not to mention it.

"Then, what names are acceptable?" That question calmed me down a great deal.

"The crew calls me either Major or Harper, my CMO calls me Keath, any of those work, I guess."

"As you wish, Major."

"Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you like that, my name is just a touchy subject with me and…" I stopped when Carpenter walked in. Good thing too. I was getting way too personal. There was something about this guy that made me feel, I dunno, comfortable. I had never gotten like that with any of my other officers; Saul was different. I snapped out of my reverie to make introductions.

"Doc, this is Saul. Saul this is Doctor John Carpenter, my CMO and probably the smartest member of my crew." Carpenter could be a little imposing on people sometimes. And for good reason, rumor was that, before he went to med school, he was a professional boxer. But his Hippocratic Oath made him more want to heal bones than break them. I told him with a look that Saul remembered practically nothing. I convinced myself that he was a telepath, because he understood my glance with supernatural ability and took that information in stride.

He then began to examine Saul's med specs. I sat on the edge of another bed and watched them. Carpenter gently prodded Saul's shoulder, feeling to see if the tendons were healed yet, I guess. Saul looked as though he did not appreciate this at all. Did the doctor care? Hell, no. Carpenter ruled his sickbay with an iron fist and if any of his patients gave him any lip he usually busted it and then healed it back up. Saul, fortunately, kept his mouth shut. The Doc looked over the med scans and seemed to be very happy about them.

"Well, Saul, I think you're probably the fastest healer I've ever seen. You're shoulder's back to normal, but it'll be a little stiff for a while, so be gentle with it. Your arm has taken well to the bone graft I did, but again, don't be too harsh on it. You'll need to go very slow for the next few days. If you start to feel dizzy or nauseous, come to sickbay ASAP. I don't like that crack on the back of your head, but there shouldn't be too many side affects. Just take it easy. Keith, all that is for you too. If I hear that you've been working him like a dog…"

"I know, I know, I'm a goner. Right, so does that mean that I can get him out of here?"

"Yes, go. Oh, Saul the clothes that we found you in are so disfigured that I had to get rid of them." He left temporarily and returned with some clothes draped over his arm. "I found these, they're not much, but they should fit your dimensions." I grinned and bowed out of the room. There were days when Carpenter was more like a mother hen than a dispenser of physical healing.

A door opened in the front of Sickbay, permitting my gargantuan first officer to enter. André was a Titan, a rare people that once lived beyond the borders of the Romulan Empire. Unfortunately, the Romulans don't see an end to their borders and, consequently, the Titans were now scattered throughout the galaxy, either exiles or slaves or worse. André was, however, one of the lucky ones. The first person to join my crew, he was one of the few people that I will entrust my life to. He was colossal, standing nearly seven foot three; strangely quiet, André could go for days without speaking a single word; and insanely strong, I had once seen him lift over four tons of solid metal without breaking a sweat.

"Hey, André, what can I do for you?"

"Came to…" he stopped and fixed his gaze on the door behind me. I turned to see Carpenter and Saul emerge from the entrance. Saul looked a hell of a lot better now that he was no longer in a medical bed. The clothes that Carpenter gave him barely hung on his gaunt frame, but they were long enough for him and at the moment he looked content in them. Pirates have no uniforms as a rule, but on the Assurance, I at least try to have my crew look civilized. Thus clothes looked "normal" though a little old. I was a devoted aficionado of blue jeans from Earth's twenty-first century and bought them whenever I could find them. Thus, the Assurance had some three thousand pairs of blue jeans. So what was Saul dressed in? Blue jeans…and a T-shirt. Carpenter had also given him a jacket of some sort, as Vulcans are inevitably cold in human environments. Saul was now staring at André and I realized that I now had the duty of doing introductions with every bloody member of the bloody crew. Better get this over with.

"Saul, this is my first officer, André." They both slightly nodded at each other, neither one making a sound. Oh great, I have a pair of stoics on board. Marvelous. Carpenter seemed just about as thrilled as I was. I turned back to the Titan.

"What were you about to say?" He blinked and returned his focus to me.

"Unimportant, Major." I nodded. Anytime André said that it meant that what he had to tell me was strictly classified and he would not reveal it in present company. I glanced at Saul.

"You want the nickel tour now or later?" He got that look again and was about to answer when about half-a-dozen alarms started blaring. The com unit, somehow, was audible above the din.

"Major?" I slammed the button to answer.

"Here, what's all the fuss?"

"We've got a beauty of a trade ship on long range scanners, ma'am."

"HOT DOG! I'll be up in a sec, get the ship on attack status on the double quick." I whipped around to face the officers standing behind me. "Right, André, let's go. Saul, you too. Doc, don't worry, we won't cause much damage, but I want you on standby just in case." My first officer and I were halfway out the door when I noticed that the newest edition to my crew was not following. "You waiting for an engraved invitation or something?"

"I believe that my presence would be a detriment to your actions."

"Dude, if you're gonna work here, you need to know what's happening on the bridge during a raid. Now's the perfect time to learn so move it." He hesitated for a fraction of a second before following.

Notes and so forth….

Schematization: Thank you for being the first of my reviewers. I usually think in first person and have to write in third, it is thus easier to write this way, but it can be a little confusing to people who do not have my twisted sense of reality. I am glad that you enjoy it and that I have the good doctor's persona screwed on correctly.

FAINTbattleCry: Thank you for being the second of my reviewers…still not happy that you revealed my identity…