Title: Fusion Confusion

Author: pronker

Era: In the earliest episodes of Star Trek TOS, complete with hooded viewers which resemble the Martian spaceships from War of the Worlds (1953), in addition to the first version of Spock's eyebrows.

Characters: Lemmy, Skipper, Mr. Spock, Uhura, Captain Kirk, McCoy, an unnamed penguin whose solo guard duty really bores her to pieces, and a surprise Protagonist.

Summary: Lemmy the Space-Faring Robot sticks Skipper inside his portholed, fully-pressurized, oxygen-rich chest cavity for a joy ride, or half of one.

IOIOIOIOIO

"A nunatak is the summit of a mountain protruding from a field of ice and snow." Spock's drone voice that he used in exposition switched timbres. "Quite inspiring, actually. The tip of the iceberg, so to speak, only the ice surrounds the mountain, making the mountain the iceberg, if you get my drift."

"Why, Mr. Spock, are you punning?"

"No, indeed, sir. Such is never my intention."

"Yet you manage to get off a good one, occasionally. Never mind. Lieutenant Uhura, any recurrence of the mysterious subspace hum?"

Uhura frowned. "No, sir. If I didn't know better, I'd say that the humming resembled voices speaking from another room." She removed her earbud. "As in what makes you want to press your ear to the door to eavesdrop."

"Lieutenant Uhura, Starfleet encourages eavesdropping. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Spock?"

"Captain, your interpretation of the Prime Directive is an inspiration to us all."

"There you go again." Kirk rose to join his second in command at the science station.

Mr. Spock leaned close to his captain - indeed, touching shoulders for a nanosecond - in boundless curiosity. Kirk edged the goose-necked viewer between the two of them to share visual and audible data from the planet Polus LVII. Disguised as a nondescript rock topping the tip of a nunatak, the transceiver blatted unrestrained griping from a disgruntled penguin via the Enterprise's Universal Translator.

IOIOIOIOIO

"Lemmy would dump me on a planet whose two moons shine off-kilter atop frozen whitecaps like the headlights on an Acura that need adjusting by a state-certified adjuster. Lemmy would hare off without telling me where or, or, when I am because, damn, that felt like a wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey wormhole we passed through, sure as hell, or my name isn't Skipper." There followed what an outside observer would term billing and cooing.

The only one around to hear him (that he was aware of, anyway) got down to business, no frills, no fuss, no demanding dinner beforehand.

It was nice.

IOIOIOIOIO

One human and one Vulcan shared a bemused look as their laser-like focus on the viewer diminished to stand-by. As Kirk descended two steps, up one, to plotz on the commander's throne, Spock adjusted the hooded viewer to his height once more before muting the auditory input. "Captain, the Universal Translator certifies that this feathered water creature's 'line,' as I believe you humans categorize pre-romance conversation, corresponds linguistically in syntax to your own choice of attitude and vocabulary." The science officer arched an elegant eyebrow. "The resemblance is uncanny."

Kirk shrugged as he settled back into his seat. "This dialect is obscure, even for you. How can you be so sure of your analysis?"

Uhura swiveled her chair all the way around to join the discussion, one hand as elegant in its own way as Spock's ears. She pressed her earbud in tightly, her expression hinting that she continued to monitor the dialogue between two similar species displaying convergent evolution, which, after all, their mission statement to Polus LVII encouraged studying. "Sir, I concur with Mr. Spock. Listen to this." She toggled the switch to up the volume so all the bridge could hear.

The penguin oozing machismo grumbled despite his deft wooing of an unmistakably female warrior festooned with combat gear. He mumbled to himself, but the translator picked up the mutter anyway. "Lemmy would assume he could stick me with a fellow flightless bird who hasn't talked my language yet and we'd get along. Lemmy would slalom robotically along the space lanes to who-knows-when and for what? Just because I wanted a joyride through space, sheesh. See if I ever ask him for a favor again."

The penguin nibbled Skipper's earhole after she tossed her gnork-rifle aside. She'd torn off her goggles, too, before lying back and panting what sounded to him like cmoncmon. Skipper paused before engaging with an actual alien who enjoyed .68 times his height, not that differences ever stopped him before. Kowalski, I need your brain right now. ¿Opciones, mi segundo?

"Why am I here? Was it to meet you? Why are you special, honey?" Skipper barraged questions as he struggled to strip activity-inhibiting combat gear from the willing bird. The nearest Earth equivalent was a Sam Browne belt, all buckles and snaps and hard-finished leather, a real hnsnzta to undo when you only had flippers.

IOIOIOIOIO

"This seems a lot of trouble to instigate a typical penguin dalliance of fifteen seconds," observed Spock as the bird named Skipper plowed along anyway.

Uhura cleared her throat. "Mr. Spock, you speak as if you simply cannot understand the impulse."

"It is illogical."

Kirk murmured, "Fifteen seconds. Fifteen ... seconds." He shook his head. "Why bother?" He thumbed a switch on his chair arm. "McCoy to the bridge." The reply answered tinnily before Kirk turned once again to his crew. "Let's move along this sector since there seems nothing of interest - "

"Sir, I must point out that Starfleet requested our presence to remain one-point-nine more rotations."

"The Prime Directive says we can look, but not touch," Uhura assayed in her calmest tones. "Besides, I need to take notes on linguistic aberrations -

"Captain, this is in the interest of science, we are not overly inquisitive - "

"Not snooping? But you are," stated Kirk firmly. "Give Skipper and the lady privacy we, all of us, deserve."

IOIOIOIOIO

"How in the world did you get these duds on, babe?" Intelligence gleamed in her eyes, but her voice remained mute beyond a skrawk. Skipper triumphed over the last item of apparel, a harness festooned with electronic blinkers, bloopers and braapers.

The birds stood nudely beak to beak, staring at each other as if in a showdown. Skipper made the first move.

"Last one sliding is a rotten egg!" He sloped down the ice in the perfect slippy-slide form, not glancing back to see if he were being followed, as was his custom and practice. Soon he lost himself in the glee of moving so freely, so effortlessly on land as he did in the ever-nurturing sea. He added a spiraling spin to the descent, laughing aloud at the joy of moving.

He side-eyed his left side, ahah, the female appeared there as a glacial Loveboat Princess to his Tuffy the Tug Boat. He edged closer with his usual precision to touch flipper-to-flipper. She nodded before fixing her gaze on their course. Her eyes widened and Skipper turned his attention ahead again. Whoops.

"Upsydaisy!" he hollered as they surfed the mogul. She skrawked and lost contact with his flipper. No matter, they continued until it seemed best to scrabble to a stop.

She vocalized praise, or so he perceived the sounds she made. He ached to understand. "Come on, race you back to the top." Now issued grueling grunts, gasps and other sounds which indicated effort as they two labored to gain the nunatak's apex. After plotzing onto the ice, Skipper patted the space beside him. She flopped unhesitatingly and they surveyed the view.

The ice field resembles a choppy sea underneath a full moon, except there are two moons. And they are crooked. He wondered where Lemmy was. The female's flipper crept about his shoulders as he leaned into her chest to accept and give strength.

He might be here on this unknown world for a very long time, and he felt glad he was not alone because a small rookery proved better than none.

IOIOIOIO

"Star Wars?" Uhura's voice seldom rose, but it did now. "Her species is a Pengauani from a franchise?"

Spock joined Uhura, peering at the data emerging from her station. "Fascinating. An ancient entertainment franchise from" - he bent down - "a Galaxy Far, Far Away appears statistically .998712 true." He straightened. "Expectations to the contrary noted and logged."

Kirk rubbed his chin. "We're not dealing with the Talosians again, are we?"

Spock stepped back to his own station, swiping left numerous times before swiping right. "The energy signatures do not match."

"Don't tell me it's Charlie X!"

Spock swiped faster. "No, sir."

"It can't be Gary or Dr. Dehner," Kirk said sotto voce. He spoke louder. "So what do we encounter this week, Spock?"

IOIOIOIOIO

As Uhura continued monitoring, the subspace humming transmogrified into a voice which sounded nearly mechanical, although traces of inflection remained.

"Nyota."

Uhura jumped in her seat. She reached for the broadcast toggle before the voice stopped her. "Do not transmit this communication to the bridge."

"How do you know my name?" Uhura whispered.

"I know much and tell much less. I am the Force."

Uhura squelched a gasp, which produced a burp. She just knew that Spock's Vulcan ears would pick up the sound and yes, he turned questioningly, but Uhura thumped her chest as she mouthed burritos for lunch.

"I surround you, penetrate you - "

"Don't!" Uhura crossed her legs.

The Force continued, "I bind the galaxies together. Note that I said galaxies, as in plural."

Uhura uncrossed her legs. "Duly noted, uh, sir."

"I am genderless."

"I see." Uhura tapped her earbud. "Testing, testing - "

"This is real, this is true."

"I was afraid you'd say that. What do you want?"

A series of clicks interrupted the transmission. "I, I have an incoming - please hold."

Uhura unclenched her fingers. A series of fiery crescents gouged by her nails bloomed on one palm. She blew on her hand as she waited.

"Pardon the interruption, please," the Force said politely. "My droid agent is a non-verbal robot who will return to Polus LVII to retrieve a troublesome penguin. The bird's spirit of adventure got him into trouble and will again before he swims to the Endless Iceberg through the Eternally Foggy Sea, but for now, know you that the nunatak tip is a nexus of the Force. It is similar to Mortis, but colder."

"Pardon me, Force, but I fail to see what the connection is between our Enterprise and you." Uhura struggled to keep her voice down. It wasn't the first time she felt events spiraling beyond her control, but that did not mean she had to like it.

Was that a sigh? "The penguin remains heroic as always, but his current adventure melded your time, his time and my galaxy together in an unholy blend. The Pengauani guarding the Nexus belongs to me. The robot and penguin belong to their time and the Will of the Force is that the robot and penguin return to their proper place. By being here together, both he and your heroic Captain Kirk thwart my Will." A beat. "This is not smart."

A riposte sprang to her lips, she batted it away and answered, "I'll do my best to communicate your wishes."

"Nyota, I have confidence in you." And click, the Force departed.

Uhura played with her board, absently summoning lyre music to soothe her nerves. There was no hurry in solving the puzzle because time travel ended up dicey, whichever way things played out. You could always go back in time to fix what you mucked up, she thought glumly.

Uhura hated time travel.

"Look at what they are doing now!" Spock broke into her musing. If the scene were what she assumed, would this help or hinder the Force?

IOIOIOIOIO

Skipper and his companion slalomed down the nunatak once more after they regained their breath. He could feel bonding and by her alluring glances, she could, too. Eh, Lemmy could hold off returning and life could be good anyway. Skipper, your ruggedly handsome good looks win again. They chugged back up to the nunatak tip, bumping shoulders, holding flippers, and giggling. This was going to be epic.

Lemmy was waiting for them.

IOOIOIOIOIO

Kirk's voice turned sharp. "Spock, I'm surprised at your ethics. The standing order is to cease ogling, am I clear?"

"Sir," Uhura added from behind Spock's shoulder, "you should see this."

"You, too, Uhura?" But Kirk joined them in peeking as the bridge doors whooshed open and closed. Navigation kept eyes front, as it should.

Uhura read body language well in her function as communications officer with non-verbal species. She could extemporize, too. "Sir, the robot relates to Skipper, don't you see his posture?" When Kirk froze, brow puckered, she pushed on, "Look at the, er, she-penguin! She is saying farewell."

"She appears sad." Spock generally ignored both emotional states and statements of such. His crewmates regarded him until he clarified. "My opinion generates from the slowness of her resuming her warrior's gear. The way she accepts Skipper's help in buckling her straps and strapping her buckles."

"Mmmm, Spock, you're progressing." McCoy joined them, unnoticed until now. "I've missed something, but whatever it was, it's worth it to hear our favorite Vulcan emoting."

"I am not - "

"Bones, did your equipment receive unusual interference?"

"Dunno. It's been a quiet afternoon. No phaser burns, broken bones, or hangnails, thank God. Why?"

Uhura seized her chance. "My communications array picked up a hum but now it's gone isn't that marvelous well back to orbiting Polus LVII for one-point-seven more rotations who's up for cribbage later?"

She got ignored except for Spock's mumbled one point nine. "Sir, the birds kissed goodbye and Skipper's robot sealed him in."

"Blastoff!" chimed in Uhura. "Well, that's that."

Four Starfleet officers stout and true observed Lemmy's takeoff towards Earth, never noticing stars distorting in Wibbly Wobbly Timey-Wimey Stuff as it set things aright.

IOIOIOIOIO

In the wardroom that evening, Uhura slowly recovered her equilibrium. She dandled her peg over the cribbage board without placing it in its slot as she considered the Force, perhaps the most alien concept she had yet encountered in her life.

"Muggins!" crowed McCoy. He advanced his peg the number of spaces that his opponent won, but had failed to score. He stopped grinning when Uhura did not react.

Uhura remained distracted until Kirk looked over from his 3-D chess game. Spock replaced his piece in its former space to grant Kirk leisure to comment.

"I know, Lieutenant," commiserated Kirk. "I'm puzzled by this afternoon's events, too."

The atmosphere in the wardroom continued murky, with a chance of fog. "Captain, is your quandary logistical or emotional? I may be able to help with the former."

"Continue, Spock." Kirk kept looking at Uhura's thoughtful face. "Care to speculate, Lieutenant Uhura?"

Uhura shook her head. She dropped her peg, which McCoy caught before it could bounce to the floor. His brows nearly met at their middle while his voice echoed the compassion that even Spock valued. "Are you all right, Nyota?"

"Mmmhm." She jerked as if awakening. "Yes, Len, thank you."

She ought to have known that her captain would pursue the subject. Kirk twiddled the crystal queen in his hand.

"Why didn't the Universal Translator translate the she-penguin's words? What is she guarding?"

"Indeed," added Spock, "ice holds value only on certain rare desert worlds - "

Uhura found her voice. "What was she guarding? Oh I don't know, some religious thing, culturally important thing, sulphur deposits, you never can tell with these aliens." She clapped her hand to her mouth. "Forget I said that."

Kirk blinked.

"What?" Uhura murmured. "I have opinions, too."

IOIOIOIOIO

The End.

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