AN 1: Most of the previous chapters have officially been edited. Nothing plot wise changed and the small details remain the same. However, as I was rereading the story to get back into the flow of things, I started cringing at some of the grammatical errors. Dear me, I hope I got all of them… Let me know if I didn't.
AN 2: I nearly missed this update entirely... I'm traveling but hopefully that won't keep me from finishing the next two chapters I have planned. How did this story ever get so long?!
AN 3: I am slowing working my way through the prompt list. Thank you for all the suggestions! There are at least 5 I'm side eyeing at the moment.
[Calling all archetypes, calling all archetypes!]
[Can everyone line up?]
((salute!))
[Great. Step forward when your name is called.]
[McCoy, Leonard!]
((Whisky Priest, Sidekick, Voice of Wisdom))
A sea of brightly colored Uniforms (damnit Hari!) set into motion, hurrying toward exits in as much of a controlled manner as possible; no one wanted to be the last out.
Except Jim. The center of attention one moment, forgotten the next. He made his way over, knowing perfectly well Jim would need someone to at least kickstart him. Then knock him across the back of his head.
Just as he reached his paralyzed form, Captain Pike passing them both with a terse: "Cheating isn't winning." He had a damn good point.
One look at Kirk's shocked face and he knew the statement had cut deep.
"Come on, Jim. You heard the order. Let's move."
"But – "
"MOVE Jim. The hearing is in recess. They'll get back to it soon enough."
He gave a nod of understanding, then walked out into the corridor, a still slightly dazed Jim behind him. The atmosphere in the halls was thick with a mixture of anticipation and tension. No one knew why the alarm had been sounded. The cadets as a whole seemed to be divided between those who were excited at the possibility of experiencing real "action" for the first time and those who thought it was all merely a drill – possibly some sort of last ditch effort by Kirk to disrupt his trial.
But McCoy knew precisely what he had signed up for and a chill went down his spine. No 'drill' would call all hands to senior cadets.
Jim eventually pulled even with him, his expression darkening as he glanced over.
"Who was that pointy-eared bastard?"
"A pointy-eared bastard I'm back to liking." And wasn't that difficult to swallow.
The main hangar was in a state of organized frenzy when they arrived. Everyone was in motion, no one was standing still. Cadets and other personnel were reporting to stations as their assignments were delivered and occasional conflicts sorted out. Maintenance personnel ignored them all as they proceeded with preparations for launching several dozen shuttles. Support teams checked out ships and loaded equipment. Everyone knew their job, everyone knew where they were supposed to go.
Around him, different squad leaders bellowed names and assignments.
"McCoy – Enterprise."
Was it a blessing or a curse he'd be on the same ship as Hari for who knew how long?
[Spock!]
((Military Officer, Nerd, Gentleman, …))
[Knight-errant, you have 5 more seconds to decide.]
Even as the commandant's voice boomed over the swirling mass of Starfleet personnel, not all of whom were human or humanoid, Spock moved with confidence and purpose to his station. There had been no drill scheduled and the cadets would not have been so hastily graduated if it were not an emergency. Patience. He would know soon enough where the fleet was headed and why it needed to be at full force.
He ran through the datapad listing orders and relevant information that had been made available to him as First Officer.
Then, for five seconds round, his mind faltered in shock. Vulcan. Where else in the 40 Eridani A System would they be headed. They were headed to Vulcan to answer a distress call.
'Mo-'
No. Now was not the time. He was a Vulcan and a professional.
'Are you a Vulcan first or a professional,' Hari's voice asked him.
He was a Starfleet officer – A Vulcan Starfleet officer – and whatever mission lay before him, he would conduct himself as such.
While answering Vulcan's call with everything he had.
[Uhura, Nyota!]
((True Contender, Over Achiever))
[Right. Sure. Anyone else?]
[No, tropes aren't being called in just yet.]
((Damsel in Distress *huffh huff*))
[Really? That's a hard sell.]
Nyota was most definitely an overachiever and thought herself a true contender for Spock's attentions. The problem was, neither Spock nor Harriet seemed to acknowledge that. Currently, however, that was not a pressing point. The pressing point was where she'd been assigned. Or better yet, where she hadn't been assigned.
[Right, great, thank you.]
[First: no running. Second: get back in line.]
He was conferring with several other officers when cadet Uhura made her presence known.
"Commander – a word? If you can spare me some time?"
He met her gaze for a moment, then favored his fellow officers with a slight nod.
"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me for a moment." He stepped a distance away before turning back to consider her. From her stance, he had the distinct impression this would not be simple.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Was I not one of your top students?"
"Indeed you were," he replied without hesitation or inflection.
"Did I not receive a gold rating for xenolinguistic skills in all categories, from constructive verbalizations to click, whistle, and atmospheric manipulations of all kinds, giving the Academy first place over Kyoto and MIT at the Oxford Linguistics Invitational?"
"An exceptional achievement, I – "
Heedless of his superior rank, she interrupted him without so much as a 'sir' or 'by your leave.' Spock narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, an action that the newly graduated cadet missed the significance of in spite of her focused gaze. "And did I not, on multiple occasions, make it clear that my dream and the reason behind four years of hard work was to serve on the Enterprise."
"Vociferously and repeatedly, perhaps even to the point of obsession."
Uhura stood even straighter before she took a step forward.
"Control yourself Lieutenant. I will remind you I am your superior officer," he said with a stronger tone. He was not entirely unaffected by her aggressiveness, but he most certainly was not moved by it. Her slip in professionalism slightly confused him though.
She took a step back, and jutted out her chin slightly.
"Sir. In spite of my skill, achievements, and stated goals, I was still assigned to the Farragut."
Spock considered her for a long moment, weighing Hari's words from several months ago. Perhaps there was even more validity to it than he had credited her. He would have to convey his increased understanding when he next encountered her. Regardless, Uhura's unprofessionalism was unacceptable and, ultimately, helping her remember that professionalism was essential to her development as an officer.
"I will not play favorites Lieutenant, nor will I reward your unprofessional, aggressive behavior."
"Sir!" Was she actually shocked he would say as much to her? Or was that frustration registering on her face. Even after a year of interacting with Hari, he still had difficulty interpreting human emotions with accuracy or precision. "I am simply very passionate about my dream, the dream I've worked very hard towards achieving, sir."
At this point, Spock registered what he thought might be labelled as concern for the agitated young woman standing before him. He understood what it meant to work hard toward a life changing achievement. But to be so agitated over a temporary placement it caused this level of unbefitting behavior? It was both irrational and perplexing.
Unless… unless it wasn't unprofessionalism so much as the presentation of an appropriately logical argument… Perhaps he was overcorrecting for his lack of understanding of Terran emotion? Was he being too cautious in the face of the advice he had sought from various sources?
He weighed her argument and presentation, both with and without consideration for his still unreliable understanding of Terran emotion, against the benefits of adding another exceptional albeit recently graduated cadet to the crew – the same crew that was headed to Vulcan to answer a distress call.
In the end, he could find no reason based in logic to deny her request.
"Very well," he answered.
With no further comment, he let his gaze drop to the readout sheet he was holding. One finger moved against the touch-sensitive material before he pivoted and returned to the essential work at hand.
[Harriet!]
((Antihero, Mad Scientist, Battle-Axe))
[Whell. Not what I was expecting.]
[Yes, questions?]
((blah blahblah blah blahbla blah?))
[Yes, Brave Hero, previous deeds and backstories count. Did you have the same question Chosen One?]
"McCoy, Enterprise!"
"Good."
"For GOD's sake woman, make some sound when you move."
Her only response was to give him a small side eyed smirk. Then Jim opened his mouth.
"Who are you?"
The smirk transformed almost instantly into a tight expression of disapproval.
He could already hear Harriet's internal 'Rude!' Bones looked heavenward.
"And you are?" Damn, he knew that tone…
"Kirk, James Kirk."
"Ah, right, the cheater." 'Damnit Hari!' Dismissing Jim's presence entirely, she turned back to him, asking: "Can I sit with you? First time in space and all."
Bones looked at her incredulously. "You're kidding me."
"Possibly. But I brought coffee!" she said brightly, holding up her travel mug. Did she ever go anywhere without that thing? And where the heck did she always store it? "I've never understood why people prefer to bring towels with them instead…"
"Right." He considered her for a moment. "Did you bring any of that tea?"
Head tilt. "I'm fully stocked. Just in case." He forgave her near instantly.
… Was she actually wearing her vegetable jewelry again? In uniform? – right, she was wearing her version of the uniform, not an official one. Still. And why the heck was she carrying a pillow around for. And why did she look like she was about to hit something or someone with it?
He turned and looked at Jim. Right.
"Look, Jim – I gotta go."
"Yeah – yeah, go ….," he forced out. Harriet was entirely unaffected but Bones was sure she could read the conflict playing out inside him on his face.
As he turned and hurried off without Hari, he suddenly felt like he was suffocating in his uniform. As far as his nonexistent but entirely too compassionate heart saw it, he had no real choice.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hari's nose flare of irritation before she too wandered off – in the appropriate direction.
[Spear Carrier!]
[Spear Carrier!]
[*pinches nose* WHERE is the Spear Carrier?]
Not more than an hour had passed since she'd 'retrieved' her ready bag and Harriet was already missing Mrs. Thurston and the shop. She missed the woman's steady, level headed approach to life. She missed the smoothness of the café's wood countertops, the table that she had claimed for herself and Spock, and the clear light flooding through the shop's windows that seemed to bring both to life.
She also missed the roominess of the shop. Roominess was a thing. A very important thing. A very important thing that whoever had designed this particular carrier shuttle had completely ignored. It was simply too cramped for her personal preferences. Sure, it was a shuttlecraft, and she was sure it would execute its lovely little shuttlecraft duties very well, but it most certainly wasn't a Takayama-type shuttlecraft. Now THAT was a shuttlecraft.
She sounded like such a princess.
'I might as well settle in and make sure Bones has a seat. Who knows what kind of madness he's about.'
Technicalities regarding 'space' aside, she really didn't like the idea of embarking onto the Enterprise without some sort of back up. She was as prepared and ready for whatever was coming as she could be. Yet she hadn't been particularly bothered when her mind slipped into a lower grade version of 'battle mode,' as she tended to think of it. The only real signs of her having entered it were a seemingly more serious mien and the addition of a long, thigh length dragonhide shirt under her standard knee length tunic, an inch or so hanging past the tunic hem.
She'd also made a point to leave her holly wand in her hair: two ready and loaded holsters did not low grade make.
Even distracted by her own thoughts as she was, her mind noted the shuttle steadily filling with cadets. The presence of each of Spock's students was marked, her mind likewise giving them critical once overs to ensure Spock received a thorough report on how they appeared to be handling the situation – when he o so conveniently 'forgot' to ask for one.
My she missed Mrs. Thurston. Who else was going to tell her she'd started acting vaguely like the general she was, then chastise her and send her off 'to have fun' somewhere?
Did the Enterprise have a Joe's?
'I wonder how she and Smaug are getting along?'
[Redshirt!]
[Redshirt!]
[No Redshirt? We've gone this long without a Redshirt?]
[Really?]
[... How?]
A Klaxon began to sound as the shuttle began running through the final countdown procedures prior to liftoff. Harriet could hear Bones talking to the junior officer stationed at the boarding ramp only because she'd been semi-anxiously waiting for him to high tail it on board.
"… suffering from an inflamed epididymis complicated by excessive swelling of the ego region of the cerebral cortex. Got exposed to gram-negative bacterium in the lab. Was writing out the order to send him to the hospital when the alert sounded."
Is this seriously why he'd nearly missed the shuttle? To smuggle Kirk on board? And really, mud flea virus? Harriet took a forced moment to control herself as she continued to listen in on the conversation.
"Wholly internalized, transmittal vector is only via direct fluid exchange, no danger to anyone else. He should come through fine if the fever he's suffering from now doesn't boil his brain."
"He's not cleared for duty aboard the Enterprise. In fact, according to records, he's not cleared for duty anywhere. It says here – "
"Look, we're operating under Red Alert conditions and I don't have time to argue. I'm cleared for duty on the Enterprise, and Starfleet Medical Regulations state that the treatment and transport of a patient is to be determined at the discretion of his attending physician, which is me. Since I'm assigned to this ship, so's he, even if temporarily. Check your regs: medical evaluation supersedes academic dispensation."
In spite of herself, she smiled. It was always rather fun to see Bones set in on someone. Still, as far as Harriet was currently concerned, Kirk was just short of being wholly expendable. Why was Bones doing this? The nuisance looked like he couldn't even believe he still had legs!
"Or would you like to explain to Captain Pike why the Enterprise warped into a crisis situation without one of its senior medical officers?"
This, Kirk, was a fine example of how to keep your head under pressure, get what you want, and still maintain the bearing of an officer. Both the morality and legality of what he was doing were by nature dubious, but the reasons for which he was going through this charade were vaguely acceptable … if you took the 'he's a great friend just trying to help out' standpoint.
A new alarm began to sound, indicating imminent departure. "As you were."
"As you were." The snark! "Keep walking. Try to help me Jim. Make your legs work." Her lips twitched.
When he started to drag Kirk further in, she made sure she, and the place she had reserved for Bones, were visible.
Head lolling, face inflamed, Kirk goggled up at him, and managed to garble out a question: "I have legs?"
Harriet snorted and stood by her original opinion. Okay, maybe she was still *quite* upset by his performance and overall behavior. Still. Second chances shouldn't just be given out on a whim without proper consequences being realized.
Bones had no difficulty finding her and his seat as the final alarm sounded. Kirk had no difficulty getting a seat or two to himself next to Bones either, despite the lateness of their arrival.
Harriet very pointedly gave Bones a look she hoped conveyed the volumes of snark and disbelief she felt. McCoy just focused on getting himself and Kirk properly settled. It wasn't until he was done suitably terrorizing Kirk with his delightful bedside manner, that he looked at her with a strange mix of determination and resignation in his eyes.
Harriet set her lips in a thin line, and looked out as the compact craft climbed through the atmosphere.
'And so it begins.'
[Kirk, Jim!]
((Dandy, Soubrette, Miles Gloriosus, Mary Sue, - ))
[Only four to a line please.]
[NO SHOVING!]
No less than an hour ago, Kirk had been on the verge of becoming a candidate for quick dismissal from service. Then there'd been the Red Alert and the truth of just how close he'd come to losing everything he had worked for, everything he had wanted, had likely (hopefully) stabbed (somewhere near) home. He had painted quite the picture, just standing there, surrounded by hundreds of cadets, soldiers, support personnel, and others, seemingly only just realizing how alone he was. This wasn't an experience he could smile and charm his way through, nor was it one he would be able to brag about later.
It was a harsh lesson he was learning, but a lesson he needed to learn all the same. Still, Bones simply couldn't have left him there to suffer through that alone. Despite the opinion Harriet had conveyed in the look she'd given him, Jim wasn't dead weight. He had heart and potential – when he wasn't acting … ridiculous.
'So help me, I almost called him a dunderhead.' Heaven help him.
Accelerating steadily, the shuttlecraft climbed through the atmosphere and he did his best not to think on how uncomfortable he felt as it did so. Dark blue sky gave way to violet and then, with a sense of awe decidedly coupled to a strong sense of terror he had yet to lose, to black. Below, the curve of the Earth stood out like jewel in an onyx setting, beautiful and precious.
Even with the shuttles that proceeded and trailed them, it still felt as if they were utterly alone in the universe. He knew from personal experience that feeling only served to enhance the experience of leaving the earth behind.
'Why couldn't she have chosen a spot without a port?' He mentally grumbled. He gave her a side glance, then sighed internally. Thanatophobia or no, if it truly was her first time in space, he couldn't express that particular thought out loud or hide in a windowless room.
"Welcome to space Hari."
"Circe bless," she whispered.
He still couldn't figure out all the magic references she used in her admittedly amusing and creative exclamations and curses. Still, the awe in her voice made his heart twitch to life a bit.
Then Starbase 1 came into view, and even he had to take a moment. A city in space, the base thrust out enormous transverse arms that terminated in dock and repair facilities for starships. Unusually, every one of them was presently occupied, each with a swarm of servicing craft readying them for departure.
"By the hands of Heka only," Hari stated. He had no clue who Heka was, but he understood the sentiment all the same.
None of that mattered when the arc of the compact craft brought them partially around the starbase and started to zip in toward a port. Almost immediately, those on board spotted the clear and sharp markings of the ivory-hued metal and composite skin of their destination.
U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701
"Well, there she is." Pause. "Too bad she doesn't have a racing stripe. I'm sure she deserves a racing stripe." Nod.
Kirk nearly choked. However, every last one of the disbelieving glances that had been sent her way were ignored in favor of her continued scrutiny of the vessel. Bones himself was more interested in the nod. With Harriet, it was important to note the nods as they generally indicated she was seriously considering something perfectly ridiculous – and may act on it.
"She's fine just the way she is," he said gruffly. She merely hummed skeptically in response.
'The poor crew.'
Prompt: Calling all archetypes!; A long overdue meeting: "Kirk, Jim Kirk" (fill for Ryuus2); Coach and Economy are the same thing, darnit!; "her first meeting with Jim to involve smacking him repeatedly with a pillow" (partial fill for Ryuus 2)
