Having finally been allowed to shower, and wear clean clothes, Hannah massaged her arm. Vaccines were not fun, but at least McCoy had assured her none of these were likely to give her symptoms, just make her feel like crap for a few days. Her arm ached, the muscles groaning as she pulled on an oversized jumper. After all, she couldn't wear Star Fleet uniform, she wasn't a Star Fleet officer. Lucky for her, because honestly, dresses? And seemingly quite short dresses? Not really what she wanted to wear on a daily basis. Pulling her hair up off her face, she finally looked around the room she'd been designated. It was more spacious than she'd been expecting- after all she was used to her own tiny student accommodation, which barely had enough room to breath in- and once you added all her books, well, it was no room. But this had enough room for her to fell just ill at ease. Everything here was off, only the bed felt like a constant- except that was much too large. Every time she glanced at the window she expected to see city lights, or a rising sun- or some sign of civilisation. Not a vast empty void.
Her door bleeped at her. She stared at it.

"Come in?" She questioned. The door seemed to bleep an affirmative to her, and slid open. Scotty stood in the door.

"Hello, wee lassie," He grinned. Hannah returned the gesture weakly as he entered her room. She let her legs go limp and thudded on to the bed. Then her eyes fell on the bottle in his hand.

"Is that… whiskey?" She looked up at Scotty hopefully. He nodded, his grin widening.

"Aye, I thought you might need a little something. It's no been an easy day for you," He held the bottle out towards her, and she took it gratefully.

"That," She spoke between wrenching the bottle open unceremoniously, "is an understatement."

Kirk sat his chair, fiddling with anything he could grasp his hands on. It turns out a five year mission in deep space wasn't quite as exciting as he had expected- despite the entire crew being held hostage by a former Star Fleet captain turned psychotic monster only last week, and now him accidentally stumbling through to a different timeline. He was bored of the monotonous routine he'd settled into, bored of the vastness of space. Every day felt predictable, and the recent planet-side adventures which caused the crew to gain a new member only made his more anxious for something to happen. Anything. Reflecting on the past couple of weeks, he tilted his head to the side, and mused on how the drama that unfurled between Ensigns Janeway and Cooper. That was interesting he had to admit, he had never expected them to be involved in any manner, but the stony silence that weighted the air between them since suggested something had indeed happen. And their shouting match in the middle of Engineering, well that was definitely interesting. Since starting their journey, relationships had evolved and changed, friendships become firmer and fallen apart into tatters. Perhaps Kirk just needed to remember that the day-to-day could be as exciting and challenging as fighting a fleet of Klingon war-birds could be. After all, you can't hide from someone when you're trapped on a ship with them for five years, but you can flee a fight.

"Captain," Sulu dragged the Captain out of his musings. Kirk turned his attention to Sulu and nodded for him to continue. "A Klingon ship just…ran away."

"Ran away? Is that a technical term?" Kirk formality, if he even had any, was disrupted at his amusement. Sulu shrugged.

"It's the best way to put it. It was as if they saw our ship, and just jumped straight to warp. Should we follow them?" Sulu responded, confusion emanating from him as he read over the readings he was staring at. Kirk shook his head. Despite his boredom, even Kirk was smart enough to anger Klingons. Even if they were just a single ship. And The Enterprise was vastly better equipped. No. Klingons=Bad, Kirk told himself sternly.

"No, we won't aggravate them unnecessarily," He spoke authoritatively, forcing his boredom down. "Do we know why they were so far from Klingon space?" With this final question, Kirk turned to Spock, who tapped his console a few times and then answered.

"There is a Class M planet nearby, with an abundance of local fauna and flora, but no advanced life forms," As Spock spoke, Kirk moved to look at the screen. The planet had a small label, naming itself to be Iota Germinorum IV. Kirk frowned at it as Spock continued. "However, there appears to be several items of advanced weaponry on the surface. Perhaps left by the Klingons?"

"Let's go find out,"

Hannah and Scotty were interrupted by Kirk's voice, disturbing them over the comms.

"Beep boop," murmured Hannah, as the comms made the same noise. She drank again from the glass, gulping it down and sitting cross-legged on her bed. She didn't pay attention to Scotty and Kirk's conversation until Scotty stood up. "Where are you going?" She demanded, sounding offended, if a little childish. Scotty smiled, and placed a hand on her shoulder, in an almost parental manner.

"We've come across a planet. There are… bombs on the surface. The Captain wants me on the away team to disarm them." He explained. Hannah's face lit up, like a kid at Christmas.

"A new planet? Can I come?" She chirped, hopefully. From her position, looking up at Scotty she looked so young. Sometimes it was easy to forget that all the people on this ship were really barely out of childhood- Chekov was barely 18- and here was this 20 year old girl who was looking so lost, so out of place. Yet she clung on to her childlike excitement at the opportunity of seeing new places.

"No," Scotty said softly, and Hannah's face plummeted. "Maybe next time- if you're sober."

"Took your time," Grumbled a voice as Scotty entered the transporter room, already suited up. McCoy did not look pleased at being dragged off his ship- ironic given how much he complained about space being "disease and danger wrapped up darkness and silence". Scotty merely glanced at him, and took his place on the transporter pad. Kirk looked at him.

"Everything okay?"

"Aye," Scotty answered swiftly. Hell, even his captain was only 25. "What we dealing with here?" Changing track seemed the best option right now, as the Scottish Engineer was being to feel a little emotional himself. Perhaps it was a side effect of having a kid 16 years his younger fall apart on him. Or, more probably, he'd actually drank more than he thought, and if that were the case, then he thought it best to not mention to the Captain his lack of sobriety.

"Klingon weaponry," Kirk explained. "Don't know why, but they appear to want to blow up a planet. We're going to disarm their explosives, because we can." Scotty blinked.

"Alrighty."

The planet they had landed on was beautiful. There was no other word for it, it was blooming with plant life in many colours. Bright green sprawled over the roaming hill, with pink and red flowers illuminating the ridges of hills. In the distance, a forest arched around the horizon.
"The closest of the technology is just over this ridge, Captain," Spock informed Kirk. Kirk gestured for his first officer to lead the way.

"Hello, you cute wee fellow," Scotty picked up a small ball of fur. "I had one of you back Delta Vega."

"Scotty, is that a tribble?" Kirk asked, exasperatedly. "Put it down."

"Aye Captain, aww but it's purring!"

"But the damn ball of fur down," McCoy sniped. Scotty meekly put the tribble back down, only to discover that a whole swarm of them had surrounded his feet. He grinned at them, and petted one as he followed the Captain and the rest of the landing party up to the peak of the ridge. Kirk and Spock were already staring down at something when Scotty started moving up the hill. He could hear McCoy's characteristic moan; "Great. How are we supposed to reach something if its got a protective layer of Tribble?" Spock merely looked at them and murmured:

"Fascinating," before heading down the other side of the ridge.

"Beam us back! NOW!"

"I can't distinguish between the creatures and our crew,"

"JUST TAKE US ALL BACK, DO IT!"

Hannah opened the door to her room, only to have an abundance of tribbles pour into her room. In a drunk haze, she picked up one of the tribbles and cradled it in her arms.

"Hairy baby…" she mumbled, and sat down- still in the doorway- stroking it. She was swiftly surrounded by the furry creatures, their soft fur brushing against the limited bare skin she had on show. She ran her hands over them all, one at a time, smiling softly to herself. Some of the tribbles seemed to purr at her action, and she held the one in her arms closer to her chest, cuddling it. She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was not on a strange ship, in a strange time and surrounded by humanoid figures, that weren't quite human, but at home. She was sat in front of a fire, a cat on her lap, another by her side. She was safe. She knew this place. It was where she belonged- and she could almost hear her brothers arguing upstairs, her father in the kitchen, Frances' music blaring from her room. The tribble was tugged from her arms, and she unwillingly opened her eyes to see why. Kirk stood above her, and was gathering the tribbles up. Hannah frowned at him, and began to form words, questioning him.

"We need to take them home," He spoke softly, carefully. "After all, we don't want to accidentally kidnap something else, do we?" Hannah relinquished her hold and the tribble and shook her head. Red shirts rounded the corner, holding a bag containing some squirming tribbles. Kirk placed those he was holding into their bag, and held a hand out to Hannah, pulling her upright. He guided her into her own room, and sat her down on to her bed, and wiped away a tear that had begun to snake its way down her face. "Hey, it's okay,"

"I know," Hannah barely made a sound, she spoke so softly. "I am sorry." Kirk sat down next to her, and paused. Flirting with people, he could do easily. Comforting them? Not so much.

The next morning, Hannah's head pounded like a construction site had appeared in her brain. She wandered around like a zombie, not really sure what she was meant to be doing- it wasn't like she had a job on board The Enterprise. She decided coffee would be a good bet, and wandered towards the Mess Hall. Everyone seemed so loud this morning, so busy, and the Mess Hall was no exception. She blearily looked around for one of the few people she knew, and her gaze fell on Scotty. Staggering over to him, she walked into the back of a chair and winced. Scotty hid his laughter and she fell into the seat next to him.

"I discover a thing that makes any form of drink if you ask it to," She folded her arms on the table, and let her head rest on them.

"That'd be the replicator," Scotty told her, amused. Hannah lifted her head, and then let out a whine.

"It's bad. Bad replicator. I have no self control normally, but that just. No. Bad." Scotty laughed at her, and patted her on the shoulder. He pushed her coffee towards her, and Hannah grasped it with both hands. She tried not to gag at the smell of her hair as it fell forwards. "I feel like I remember small mammals coming into my room at one point, so you know, hallucinations-"

-"Oh no, lassie. That would have been the tribble infestation. They're tiny balls of fur. We had to cool them all down to make them hibernate so we could return them to the surface without them replicating," Scotty explained. Hannah raised her eyebrows at the coffee mug.

"Not a hallucination. Okay. Great,"

"That doesn't sound like a genuine 'great' to me, wee lassie," Scotty nudged her. "Come on, what did you do?"

"I think I threw up on your Captain,"

Kirk felt like he still smelt like sick. He wondered exactly how much Hannah had drunk to get herself into such a state. On the bright side, at least she wouldn't be able to remember his foul attempts at comforting. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed, time for another dull day, repetitive and boring. Then he remembered it was his sole day off a week. Today was the day that Spock ran his ship, and Kirk got to simply relax, do whatever he wanted to. In this case, he wanted to see exactly how hungover Hannah was. And maybe he'd go see Bones for once, after all he owed his friend greatly for his help in getting rid of all the tribbles. And for not killing Spock multiple times on Altamid. And for saving his life with Khan's blood. Actually, now Kirk thought about it, he was vastly in debt to his friend. Feeling moderately guilty for half a heartbeat, Kirk shrugged off the thought and left his room. After all, it was his only day off, Bones would understand- and Kirk was sure he was still playing with the dead tribble. It had been the sole thing Spock and Bones had agreed on, well, ever, really. So, Kirk was truly doing him a favour, leaving him in peace to experiment. With that justification lingering in his thoughts, Kirk strode out of his room, in search of a hungover 20 year old.

Hannah was on her fourth coffee. The empty mugs lay on her table, littering the surface. Ah, just like home, in those long weeks of studying before finals, where sleep was no longer an option and her body was fuelled by caffeine and spite. She'd brought the PADD containing McCoy's notes from his medical studies, and, despite her mockery, she had to admit, they were pretty good. The little snippy comments he'd added were surprisingly helpful, with little jokes actually making sense of the methods that sounded so foreign to her prior to reading them.

"I think if you have anymore coffee, Dr McCoy is going to have a fit," commented a voice from above her. Hannah practically leapt out of her seat, jerking back in surprise so fervently that her coffee erupted out of the mug, spilling over her arm, and splashing to such a height that some hit Kirk in the nose. Hannah winced. Kirk wiped the coffee from his nose, and sat down opposite her.

"Sorry?" Hannah grinned sheepishly at him. "Why is McCoy going to have a fit?" Her question sounded tentative, as if she thought she might have committed a great offence.

"You do know caffeine is bad for you?" Kirk pointed to the four mug, containing dregs of coffee. "If he finds out, I'm sure you'll get a moan about how you're slowly destroying your own body." Hannah laughed lightly under her breath, thinking how her mother used to give her the same spiel about excessive consumption of caffeine. Her mother. Now that was not a road she wanted to go down, Hannah told herself sternly, she'd already cried on Kirk once, and that was one time too many. Kirk raised an eyebrow at her. "You okay?" He asked, concerning lacing his voice. Hannah blinked away the armada of tears that threatened to break the banks that were her eyelashes.

"Yeah," She shook her head lightly, and dropped her gaze to her mug. When she lifted her head again, a faint whisper of a smile tugged at her mouth. "Just that reminded me of stuff mum used to say before she left. Hey!" Her eyes brightened, and she met Kirk's gaze. "Mumma McCoy." Laughter caused the coffee in her mug to jostle around, taunting the edges with another spillage.

"Mumma McCoy," Kirk repeated, "He's going to love that."

Needless to say, McCoy did not enjoy being called 'Mumma McCoy'. He enjoyed being called 'Lenny' even less, when Hannah offered it up as an alternative. Kirk had watched their interaction with a strange feeling, that he couldn't quite place, brewing in his gut. The way that Hannah had thrown back her head- quite literally- in hysterics at McCoy's face when she called him 'Lenny' made it impossible not to join in. He had a feeling she would manage to find a home on board the Enterprise easily enough.