Harriet and her pillow disembarked from the shuttle to organized frenzy. She stepped to the side, and stood for a minute, studying her new surroundings and allowing Bones and the struggling-to-walk Jim to pass her.
After taking in the corridor and the confused expressions of the too-busy-to-ask crew, her and her pillow followed in the wide wake Kirk's appearance afforded, arriving at the lift just in time to continue following Bones.
Turning to Harriet, Bones asked: "Where are you assigned? And can you please help me?"
"NO and Med Bay something or 'other."
"Har Har." Sarcasm at its finest.
"It's Hari actually." She smiled brightly. Bones silently pleaded for his sanity even as he cursed Jim's inability to properly walk.
"Right. You take care of that, and I'll go put down my pillow."
"Why the hell are you even carrying that thing?"
"Pillows have many virtues, not the least of which is how handy they are at smacking others across the head." She pointedly looked across him to Jim.
Bones just shook his head. "Come on Kirk. We need to get you changed."
"I don't feel right. I feel like I'm leaking."
McCoy apparently still had alertness and energy enough to notice Spock coming in their direction. "Damn, it's that pointy eared bastard." He quickly ducked to the side. Not that Spock would have noticed: he was far too absorbed into his padd and whatever tasks he was completing.
Pike was leaving his ready room for the bridge when she walked in, a pillow of all things in hand. How she got in without his express permission was something to address later at this point.
"Miss Luna."
"Captain."
"Is it important?" He acknowledged her nod with one of his own, then headed towards the door. "Walk with me." Thankfully, she got straight to the point.
"The time is here Captain. I recommend defensive maneuvers." Well, to a point at least. While he knew this conversation was coming, he didn't particularly care for her timing. Still, the matter had to be addressed and it was better to have it settled.
"On what grounds? Forgive me, Miss Luna, but you have given me no actionable evidence."
"Then consider, Captain, the circumstances of the USS Kelvin and its fate." Pike paused, then turned to look her directly in the eyes. Harriet met his stare dead on.
"The correlation?"
"The energy surge prior to the distress call is near identical to that recorded before the Romulan ship attacked it, no?"
"Are you certain?"
"Yes but feel free to review the similarities yourself."
Besides the fact she shouldn't have known that information as a civilian without need to know, she had a point – one which he had a duty to his crew and his fellow captains to acknowledge. As such, he promptly turned around and made the short trek back to his ready room without bothering to properly end the conversation.
Time was short and, if nothing else, Harriet could be depended on to protect herself. And Spock for that matter.
From the corner of his eye, he noted that Harriet kept walking, seemingly unhurried and unbothered by the information she had just imparted.
What else did she know?
The bridge was buzzing with activity, officers walking about here and there, settling into their stations as the Enterprise prepared for departure. It also near sparkled with its newness, all so shiny and unused, it nearly made her eyes hurt. While others would likely admire this shine in the newly installed instruments and unvarying multihued glow of projection monitors, she imagined Spock would be pleased primarily with how everything fit together as intended and functioned properly at first touch.
Vulcans.
The little nods to history were nice though: an engraving of an aircraft carrier bearing the same name, a miniature mop and bucket, a brass pocket telescope. She wondered how many of the crew recognized or even registered these little details? They were ultimately irrelevant however. Her purpose for coming onto the bridge lay elsewhere.
Quietly, she made her disillusioned way across the bridge to stand by the captain's chair. It was empty, for now, but that wasn't the point; Pike would be there soon enough. In the meantime, she focused on the sensation drawing her forward, subconsciously twisting a ring that was no longer there.
On what would have been the third twist, Elros came to stand quietly beside her. She wasn't particularly surprised all things considered. He had always been a source of strength for her. He stood tall, and confident, reminding her of what it meant, and took, to face both life and death head on.
"Worrying shall take you nowhere good little sister. What's done is done, and what shall happen, shall happen. All we can do now is prepare and wait."
True. But was there any time left to prepare? Was there anything left to prepare? Was the crew ready to become, as she suspected, battle tested?
Spock briskly stepped out of the turbo lift onto the bridge and took his seat. He ignored her as she came to stand by his station. The presence of her pillow, and the absence of a reaction to the pillow by the officer next to his station, was likely enough evidence for him to deduce her presence was not discernible by the greater portion of the bridge.
If this were to be her end, then so be it; Death was an old friend and Elros had stood beside her nearly as long.
And now there was Spock.
She discretely etched the same runes for safety and strength into the underside of his station, as she had done upon the edge of the captain's chair. He merely paused the look down before returning to the work at hand, never giving a true indication she was there.
Then, she rejoined Elros' tall, regal form, standing on the other side of Pike's chair, silently keeping watch as a pseudo night seemed to dawn upon the Enterprise. Snatches from an old ballad over took her:
Tomorrow, will take us away,
Far from home,
No one will ever know our names…
Tomorrow, will take it away,
The fear of today,
It will be gone…
Tomorrow, all will be known,
And you're not alone,
So don't be afraid of the dark and cold…
Tomorrow would come and that was enough.
"Mister Spock," he stated as he entered the bridge.
"All decks report ready for launch Captain."
"Very well." He took a moment to look around the bridge, letting his gaze rove the bridge as he strove to make contact with each member of his crew. "Many of you have served with me before. To those who are new to duty, I extend a hearty welcome and my apologies for the haste with which you have been called into active service. Circumstances dictate speed as we have reason to believe Vulcan is in distress and is in need of immediate assistance, potentially of a defensive nature. I know that every man, woman, and crew member will do their duty and I am proud to serve with you.
"Carry on." He took the command chair. "Medical Bay?"
"On standby sir."
"Good." Shifting slightly in his chair, he briefly initiated the communicator. "All decks, this is Captain Pike, prepare for immediate departure." Disengaging the com, he continued. "Helm, thrusters."
"Moorings retracted, Captain. Dock control reports ready. Thrusters, fired. Separating from Spacedock."
"The fleet's cleared Spacedock, Captain. All ships ready for warp."
"Set course for Vulcan."
"Aye aye Captain. Course laid in."
"Maximum warp."
The Lieutenant moved to do as told, his fingers sliding deftly over the helm controls, and punched it – only for nothing to happen.
"Lieutenant, where's Helmsman McKenna?"
"He has lungworm, sir," the lieutenant explained uneasily. "He'll be fine but was unable to report for duty. I'm Hikaru Sulu."
He pursed his lips. "And you are a pilot, right?"
"Uh, very much so, sir. I'm, uh, not sure what's wrong here…"
"Is the parking break on?"
"Uh, no. I'll figure it out, I'm just, uh..."
"Have you checked to ensure that all subsidiary connections to starbase have been disengaged?" his science officer asked.
The lieutenant, Sulu, navigated the controls for a few seconds before reporting: "Ready for warp, sir." Sulu checked another readout, struggling to look anywhere but at the command chair or the science station. "Dock control reports ready for our exit."
Pike nodded. "The external inertial dampener. That's… the parking brake." Having dealt suitably with his new helmsman, he activated the ship's intercom. "All decks, this is Captain Pike. Final preparations should be completed and all hands at flight stations. Prepare for immediate departure."
He looked once more at the helm.
"Now then, Mister Sulu, let's – punch it."
Harriet still hadn't moved from the spot to the right of the captain's command seat. While he was aware of the possible situation, and had received the updated command notations, he did not know why she had yet to return to medical bay. If they were truly answering a distress signal, they should all be optimally placed to best provide aid. He did not understand the logic behind her lingering.
"Engines at maximum warp, Captain."
"Good. Shields up, ready weapons, and prepare for emergency evasive."
"Yes, sir."
"Whatever's coming, we'll be prepared." Why did Harriet seem startled by Pike's statement? "Russian whiz kid, what's your name?"
"Ensign Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, sir."
"Fine, Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, begin ship wide mission broadcast."
"Yes, sir, happy to. Ensign authorization code nine-five-wictor-wictor-two"
The computer answered him with a predictable: "Authorization Not Recognized."
The ensign tried again. "Ensign authorization code nine-five-vwictor-vwictor-two."
"Access Granted."
"May I have your attention, please. At twenty-two hundred hours, telemetry detected an anomaly in the neutral zone. What appeared to be a lightning storm in space. Soon after, Starfleet received a distress signal from Wulcan High Command that their planet was experiencing seismic actiwity. Our mission is to assess the condition of Wulcan, and to assist in the ewacuations if necessary. We should be arriving at Wulcan within three minutes. Thank you for your time."
Spock could not read minds but he could tell the bridge crew was silently wondering why the Captain had asked them to ready weapons given the stated mission.
Somehow, Jim was up and awake in front of the monitor long before he should have been, gasping out, "Lightning storm!" Ever the solicitous doctor, and hoping that he could divert the med tech's attention away from his "patient," Bones stepped over.
"Oh good, Jim, you're awake. How do you feel?"
"ah.. uh..." Kirk's moaning in pain ensured everyone would remember him, but before McCoy could berate him for overreacting, he noticed the size of Kirk's hands – which had just swollen to elephantine proportions.
"Good god, man!"
"What?" When Jim got a good look at his extremely swollen hands, he followed that with, "AH! What the hell's this?!"
"A reaction to the vaccine damnit. Nurse Chapel," he called, "I need fifty cc's of cortazone."
"Yes, sir," she called back.
He proceeded to furiously scan Kirk to check for anything he should be worried about. The readings were not good; now his friend really had become his patient.
Then, somehow, Jim was stating: "We got to stop the ship!"
'Wait, what?'
Kirk had the nerve to whirl around as if it would be a simple matter for him to walk off but only managed a stride and a half before nearly knocking him down. McCoy glared at him; even Hari wasn't this ridiculous.
"What the hell are you d –"
"Something's not right," Kirk shot at him. "In fact, if I'm right, it's real wrong." He had the nerve to grab his arm and pull, stating, "Come with me, Bones – hurry!"
"What?" He jerked free of the younger man's hold. "Jim, I said low profile!"
Then, somehow, he was in a corridor, frantically running toward … somewhere. Flustered, and fearing for his friend, McCoy rushed after him. But Kirk was moving fast and managing to actually stay in front of him.
"Jim! Slow down! Wait a goddamn minute! I'm not kidding, we need to keep your heart rate down!" he said. Finally, Jim stopped to use a computer interface.
"Computer, locate crew member Uhura!" Bones took the time to search his medkit for the correct medication.
"Jim, I haven't seen a reaction this severe since med school. You need to come back."
"We're flying into a trap!" he insisted.
"Dammit Jim, stand still!" He promptly hypoed Kirk in the neck mercilessly and without regret.
"Ow! Stop it!" he said, even as he began running off again.
Then, somehow, they were at communications monitoring station twelve on deck four, closing in on Uhura.
"Uhura, Uhura!" Jim called.
"Kirk, what are you doing here?"
"Sorry. Listen, I need to talk to you. The transmission from the Klingon prison planet, what exactly was...
"Oh my god, what's wrong with your hands?!" Cue her likely realizing why Bones was so preoccupied with his medical scanner.
"It-it-it... look, who is responsible for the Klingon attack? Was the ship Woluam..."
"Was the ship what?"
Jim turned to look at him. "What's happening to my mouth?"
"You got numb tongue?" McCoy asked.
"Numb tongue!?" he jumbled out, horrified.
"I can fix that," he promised. (He could – Harriet was always insisting he be better prepared.)
"Was the ship what?" Uhura asked again.
"Womulan!" Kirk struggled to get out.
"What?" Really, he didn't blame her. Kirk really needed to get back to medical.
"Wolmun?" 'Found it!' thought McCoy; he was near frantic at this point.
"Romulan? Yes."
"Yes!" Kirk was barely intelligible at this point. All the more reason for him to be hypoed again.
"Ahh... dammit!"
Yet, somehow, Bones found himself running through the corridors, again, chasing after Jim. This time with Uhura.
"Jim!"
"What's going on?!" What a time for her to ask a perfectly valid question.
"Jim, come back!" as she simultaneously yelled, "Kirk!"
Then, somehow, Bones found himself chasing Jim onto the bridge, which happened to constitute unauthorized entry onto the bridge – a court-martial worthy offense.
"Captain!" Damnit Jim! "Captain Pike, we have to stop the ship!"
"Kirk, how the hell did you get on board the Enterprise!" Any goodwill Jim may have still had with Pike seemed to quickly be draining away.
"Captain, this man's under the influence of a severe reaction of a Melvaran flea vaccine, completely – " he ignored Jim's attempt to dig himself into a deeper hole by speaking over him, "- delusional. I take full responsibility."
"Captain, Vulcan is not experiencing a natural disaster. It's being attacked by Romulans."
There wasn't a single indication of tolerance on the Captain's face. "Cadet Kirk, I think you've had enough attention for one day. McCoy take him back to medical, we'll have words later."
"Aye Captain." Why did he do this again?
"Look, sir, that same anomaly – "
"I'm already aware of that possibility cadet."
Kirk was stumped long enough for Spock to point out: "Mister Kirk is not cleared to be aboard this vessel." The Green Blooded Hobgoblin!
"Look, I get it, you're a great orator. I'd love to do it again with you too," Jim said rather caustically.
"I can remove the Cadet..." Spock started.
"Try it! This Cadet is trying to save the bridge."
"By recommending a full stop mid-warp when time is of the essence?" Did Spock just use a colloquialism? What the hell was going on?!
"Listen, it's an attack!"
"It very well may be," the Captain pointed out, "as those authorized on this bridge are already aware."
THAT shut Kirk up. It also brought his mind to a momentary halt: he knew medical was on alert, but he didn't know this.
"And the Romulans sir?"
"Kirk."
"Sir, the Kelvin attack took place on the edge of Klingon space and at twenty-three hundred hours last night, there was an attack. Forty-seven Klingon warbirds destroyed by a Romulan, sir. It was reported that the Romulans were in one ship, one massive ship."
"And you know of this Klingon attack how?"
"Sir, I intercepted and translated the message myself. Kirk's report is accurate." Uhura, backing Jim? Has hell frozen over?
"We're warping into a trap, sir. The Romulans are waiting for us, I promise you that."
"Lieutenant Uhura is unmatched in xenolinguistics, we would be wise to accept her conclusion." Was Spock now supporting Jim?!
The Captain turned to the communications station. "Scan Vulcan space, check for any transmissions in Romulan."
"Sir, I'm not sure I can distinguish the Romulan language from Vulcan," admitted the lieutenant at the station.
"What about you? Do you speak Romulan, Cadet?"
"Uhura. All three dialects, sir."
"Uhura, relieve the lieutenant."
"Yes sir."
"Hannity, hail the USS Truman."
"All the other ships are out of warp, sir, and have arrived at Vulcan, but we seem to have lost contact with most vessels. Active coms are detected but unresponsive sir."
"It's because they're being attacked," Jim insisted.
"Issue the red alert," the captain ordered.
"That's it? No shields?!"
Pike ignored him. "Sulu?"
"Arrival in Vulcan in five... four... three... two..."
They only 'noise' that filtered in to Spock's brain during the countdown was Harriet's whispered, "may death be merciful."
Prompt: Channel your inner Hollywood screen writer; You Are Not Alone (fill for Ryuus2); Hitting Jim repeatedly with a pillow (partial fill for Ryuus2); The Bard's Song (Blind Guardian)
