Chapter 3
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding, but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearnéd luck,
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long:
Else the Puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."
Kirk stifled a yawn, and glanced at McCoy, who sat next to him. They joined the rest of the crew members in the ship's theatre in granting the request of the young, black Lieutenant and applauding the members of the crew who made up the cast of the play. The lights came up then, and the applause grew more enthusiastic while the cast took their curtain call. The play itself was one of Kirk's favorites, and this was an especially meaningful performance, partially because it was the first for the new dramatic ensemble that had recently formed aboard ship, but also because it was some sort of milestone anniversary for Shakespeare, and this script had come from Earth in a special dispatch as part of the celebration. A holovid of the performance would be sent back to Earth to be judged in a special contest, and they would receive the word on who won in just over a month.
"Nice evening, wasn't it, Captain?" McCoy said, as the applause finally died out, to be replaced by the happy noises of people leaving a place, after a good performance.
"Very nice, Bones."
"Heading for bed, soon?"
Kirk laughed. "Trying to tell me something, Doc?"
"As a matter of fact—"
The doctor broke off as he realized his Captain was no longer listening, but was instead looking at something over McCoy's right shoulder. He turned around to see what all the commotion was about, and saw that Kirk was looking at Lieutenant Uhura,( still dressed in the knee length green dress that represented the character of Puck and with a vine painted up one leg), and trying to catch her eye. She saw him looking her way, and walked over to where he still sat, half reclining in his chair, one knee bent with his foot resting on the now vacant chair in front of him. He looked tired, which was no surprise, but with everything that the ship had been through in the past weeks, she was mildly surprised that he had found the time to come.
"An inspired performance, Lieutenant," he said, smiling, as she stepped up beside him.
"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you came." She returned the smile.
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world. You've all done the ship proud. Good luck in the contest."
"Thank you, sir. Some of the crew are having a small celebration as soon as everyone has had a chance to change. It's not really a cast party, sir, as we've opened it to anyone in the crew who would like to come. Will you join us, sir?"
"Thank you for asking, Lieutenant, but I think it's past my bedtime, for tonight anyway."
"Sleep well, sir."
"Good night, Lieutenant."
(0o0)
Dar had beamed herself directly into the ship's sickbay, into what her schematics told her was a rarely used private lab, fitted for emergencies with one diagnostic bed. Quickly, she flipped on the diagnostic monitor, turning the sound all the way down, effectively muting the thing, and lay down with her feet at the head, so that she could see the diagnostic panel above her. So far, everything looked good. It was a little known secret that these tables worked both ways.
Half a second later, her sensitive hearing was assaulted by a loud, raucous screeching as the Intruder Alert sounded. She knew they would be coming through that door any minute. Sitting up and slipping off the bed in one fluid motion, she imperceptibly reached out to steady herself by holding onto the biobed and flipping the switch to turn it off at the same time. The lab doors whooshed open and two men and a Vulcan stepped through.
The one in the front was very obviously the leader. His face was lightning and thunder, and his eyes were the blue grey of storm clouds over the ocean. He would be a formidable adversary. The Vulcan stood just behind and to the right of the man in front. He stood very still and quiet, but his eyes took in everything—every aspect of the room and of the woman standing before them. His visage was more intense, if less threatening. This man could go either way.
Her eyes then shifted over to the man behind the man in front and to the left. He was staring at her with his mouth hanging open. "Dee", he whispered, and it almost wasn't even really a word so much as an exhalation of breath, but it was clear that he recognized her, and he should have. She was a patient of his, about ten years ago, in a base hospital on earth. That had started them on a path of friendship that lasted all the way to today. The man in front cut his eyes over to the man on his left, and slightly behind. There was no thinking that he hadn't realized what the man behind him said.
Motioning the man to step up next to him, he said, "Doctor, you know this person?"
"Yes, Captain. This is Commodore Dar Thavalan. She's the Director of Medical Services at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, which means she's over all of the hospitals in Star Fleet, floating or otherwise. She also happens to be a dear friend."
"All right. Commodore Thavalan, is it? I'm Captain James T. Kirk. What is your business on my ship?"
"Captain Kirk, my mission here is two fold. One part of it involves an extended observation of the ship's crew, with the objective of determining how long term, deep space missions affect starship crews, which will allow Starfleet to better plan medical and other personnel for those missions."
"An extended observation—meaning for how long?"
"Six to eight weeks, Doctor McCoy."
"You stated that your mission is of two parts. What is the other?"
"The other part is top secret and confidential, and I am not at liberty to share any part of that mission with you, unless it affects you directly, as I am afraid this next part does you, Captain."
His intense hazel gaze bored into her, but he didn't speak.
"Captain James T. Kirk, for the safety of yourself and the entire crew of the Enterprise, I am placing you under arrest until my mission is complete."
"On what grounds?" The Captain asked the question far too calmly for anything good to come of it.
Gazing back at him for a long moment, she said, "Suffice it to say that Starfleet has reason to believe that your presence aboard ship, or your presence in the Captain's chair, endangers your ship at this moment."
"So they sent you to take command?"
"No. I am here for the reasons I told you. Mister Spock will be the one taking command, at least for now. You will be residing at Starbase 12, for the duration of my mission. Right now, I will leave the choice with you whether you spend the remainder of the trip to Starbase 12 in your quarters or in the brig. That largely depends on whether I can trust you to stay in your quarters."
"You have my word."
"Then I won't make your own security team escort you there, but I'll be down there in a few minutes. I have a few things to attend to first."
"Before you go, Captain, I believe there's another matter that concerns yourself and the Commodore."
"What's that, Mister Spock?"
Instead of answering, Spock moved over to the computer link on the back wall of the transporter room, and said calmly, "Computer?"
"Working."
"Display record of medical personnel at the Starfleet Surgeon General's Office, Starfleet Medical Headquarters."
"Specify medical personnel."
"Commodore Dar Thavalan."
"Record exists. State security clearance access code."
"Abel, Baker, Charlie, 5-4-9-8-7-3."
"Security clearance level insufficient. Access denied." Spock raised an eyebrow, wondering if the records of every flag officer were denied to those with top secret security clearance. "Computer," he said again.
"Working."
"Access public records, Commodore Dar Thavalan."
"Ready."
"Current assignment?"
"Director of Medical Services, Starfleet Surgeon General's Office, Starfleet Command."
"Explain."
"Commodore Thavalan is in charge of every Starfleet run hospital in the universe."
"Current mission?"
"No details available."
Anyone who really knew Spock would see the frustration on his features, though he was hiding it well.
Spock looked at Doctor McCoy. "I am unable to verify her identity with StarFleet."
"I can vouch for her, Spock."
"Insufficient, Doctor. Visual verification is not adequate. Regulations require a full physical examination and comparison of the results of said examination against her medical records on file with Starfleet."
"All right, Spock. Commodore, you heard the man. Come with me, please."
She followed McCoy out of the lab to which she had beamed herself, and into a private treatment room, Spock and the Captain trailing along behind. As McCoy prepared one of the diagnostic tables for her, she turned to Spock. "Mr. Spock, while Doctor McCoy verifies my identity, I'd suggest that you contact Medical Headquarters in San Francisco, and ask for Admiral Miller. He won't give you details about my mission because, as I've already explained to you, it's top secret. He will, however, vouch that Starfleet Command sent me here to complete my mission."
"Regulations require that three officers of command grade or higher be present when the identity of an unknown officer is being verified."
"All right. We will do it together afterwards, then."With those words, she stepped up on the table, which the doctor had tilted upright, and held onto the sides while he laid it back down flat. Thirty minutes later, there was one test left for Doctor McCoy to complete. Pushing her uniform sleeve up past her elbow, he drew some blood. When he finished, he placed a small bandage and smiled as he lowered her sleeve for her, thinking he knew what was coming next. Swinging her legs over the side of the table as she sat up, she dropped to the ground in one fluid movement. Striding over to the desk in the corner of the treatment room, she toggled a switch.
"Communications." Thavalan looked at the rank on the officer's sleeve. A Lieutenant.
"Lieutenant, please get me Admiral Miller at Starfleet Medical Headquarters."
"Yes, ma'am." A moment later, the face of a taciturn red head appeared on the screen. His face broke into a smile when he saw her.
"Commodore Thavalan, I see you arrived on the Enterprise safely. Is your mission underway?"
"Not yet. Soon. I'm afraid I was held up a bit by regulations."
The Admiral frowned, and then said, "Time draws short, Commodore. Do you need help to clear the red tape?"
"No, sir," she answered, smiling widely, "but you can explain to these gentlemen that my mission is legitimate and duly authorized by Starfleet."
The Admiral's stare took in all of the men in the room, and he said, "Gentlemen, Commodore Thavalan will be spending the next six to eight weeks aboard your ship, engaged in a two-fold mission, one part of which is top secret. Let me be clear. Command will not tolerate any interference that keeps the Commodore from carrying out her orders. Doctor, the Commodore, while she is aboard your ship, has just as much authority in medical matters as you do. Commander, Commodore Thavalan is fully capable of commanding your ship, and she is fully authorized to take command if she sees fit to do so. Any interference in her mission is grounds for immediate Court Martial, and permanent loss of rank and the privileges appertaining thereto. Have I made myself clear, gentlemen?"
"Affirmative," Spock said, while McCoy and Kirk said, "Yes, sir."
"Good. You have your orders. Godspeed, Commodore. We're counting on you. Starfleet out."
She looked at Spock, her face impassive, but with a twinkle, rapidly hidden, in her eyes. "Well, Mr. Spock, are you satisfied that I am who I claim to be?" Spock nodded once, and she continued, "Gentlemen, we still have work to do, and Doctor McCoy has wasted more than enough time on me at this point. Captain, I believe you are confined to quarters. Mister Spock, we will brief the crew together at 14:00 hours. I will require some research from you at that time." She handed him a data disk. Then she turned to McCoy. "Doctor, I will be in your sickbay at 17:00 hours for inspection. Be sure you are there to accompany me."
"Yes, ma'am," the three of them said in unison, as they parted company.
(0o0)
Kirk stalked into his quarters and threw himself onto his bunk. Unable to stay there, he rose and moved to his desk chair. Finally, he settled for pacing in whatever small space his quarters allowed for such activities.
"Computer."
"Working."
"Open Captain's log."
"Ready."
"Captain's Log, Stardate 6135.4—The Enterprise is currently en route to Lugubia, to assist the doctors on that world in a medical mission. Some sort of epidemic has broken out on the planet, and my Chief Medical Officer, Doctor McCoy and his staff are working to find a cure and develop a vaccine. Since the Lugubrians closed their society to outside influence ten years ago, and requested that the records the Federation had on them be either returned or destroyed, we know very little about these people, so in many ways, this resembles a First Contact mission as well. Doctor McCoy and his staff are having to synthesize a vaccine based on physiology they've never seen, for a people they've never met, and having to depend on the accuracy of the information being relayed from the only starbase remaining in that quadrant, located on Argelius, a sister planet in the same system. The Enterprise has taken on a Commodore Thavalan from Star Fleet HQ, who is also a medical doctor. For the ship's safety, she has confined me to quarters for the duration of her mission. Though I do not understand how my being in command jeopardizes the safety of my ship, her mission is verified by StarFleet and there is nothing I can do, except wait."