Okay, So hello again, I didn't get many reviews for my first chapter or follows or anything but I guess I'll continue onward as I'm really doing this for the curiosity of it all. Here we'll get a glimpse of my OMC and a more in-depth personality to my take on Captain Kirk and Spock. The only Disclaimer I offer here is that STARTREK is NOT MINE. But this chapter I wrote 100% on my own, no help from the novel. So please RnR or just send me a shout if you have an Thank you for reading. Enjoy.
On another note, My best Trekkie buddy (Sophie Green) owns the rights to the OMC Gabriel Valentine, he is 100% hers. She's an English lady, so of course you get an English character!
Also: this is totally un-beta'd anyone interested just tell me. Please excuse any grammar/ spelling mistakes, and unless you spot anything that REALLY is bad. Shut up, I don't want to hear about it.
The Mission to Horatius
Chapter 2: Strained and Drained
Captain James T, Kirk was first to exit the turbo-lift when the CMO pushed past Spock and grabbed the captains shoulder. "Jim, are you sure this is the right decision?" his harsh words were paired with soft, and caring eyes. Knowing most of this wasn't Jims fault at all, that all of this was orders-as-usual.
The hall was uncharacteristically silent, and lifeless, it looked like the morale had been hit harder than the Captain originally surmised.
"Yes, Yes I know it is." There was that awkward pause again till Kirk finally met the Doctors gaze. "Shit, Bones, yeah I'm stressed out okay. This is crazy, borderline nuts… I've never gotten orders like this before and honestly." The pause was colder this time, but Kirks face softened. The captain tended to soften up completely off-duty. He was almost a different man entirely. "Honestly were just going to have to wait till we get further orders for me to make a willed decision. First sign of something we can't handle, we leave."
"Damnit Jim, remember the last time we acted out on nothing but verbal orders?"The ship's doctor so boldly brought up that topic, the memory of Jim's untimely death that took weeks of McCoy's skill and expertise to reverse. At the thought, Jim nodded solemnly, Spock clenching his hands behind him at the mere thought. They were hurt so bad, the whole crew went through a year of psyches' and rehabilitation to try and forget the pain Marcus had left them. "We almost lost her Jim, we almost lost you and the entire ship. It's not worth bending to admiralty every damn time!"
"It's our job Bones, and there's nothing I can do about it." McCoy marched forward but before he could take a step Kirk cut the rooms tension in half. "End of discussion, Bones do I make myself Clear?" Jim Kirk sounded resigned at first, but ended out with a stern and steady tone, commanding as he should.
There was a nasty silence again then, "Crystal." He spat, resigning his gaze and stepping down.
With the sounds of stomping and chattering in the distant halls Captain Kirk couldn't help but feel the coldness , the pain he caused his ship and crew, "Mr. Spock, walk with me." It was almost inaudible, but to a Vulcan it came with perfect clarity. They moved forward leaving the doctor shocked and upset. He wanted to slap him silly, wanted to stop and yell till his eyes popped out and the vein in his neck blew. But no, he would be the wiser and walk away when necessary, oh but he'd grumble and spit the entire way back to medical.
Back to the sick bay, where people came in to use him as a psychiatrist more than a physician as of late, and to that he could use a nice drink. Oh boy, as soon as he was off duty he would.
Jim shook his head as they slowly stepped out through the ships long narrow corridors, the shining coal-black floors that were half scuffed and chipped up, always the last thing to get repaired. "Thoughts Mr. Spock." There was an unusual silence between the two; typically Spock was the first to say something when Kirk managed to fall out of line with protocol or clarity.
"Captain, for once I feel it would be logical for you to transpire your thoughts to me. You seem to be taking this all as you would say 'to heart', when admirably you have done everything in your power to do what you must." Kirk turned his head to the Commander and gave him a small smile. "But wouldn't that be too human? Too much emotion for you?" Kirk questioned, slightly bitter but a definite wonder to his query.
They passed by the mess hall, a few lieutenants brushing past them in a hurry. "Captain, as you have frequently pointed out in many occasions and as I have observed. Humans are not bound to the same principles of logic and reason. It is merely the Vulcan way." Spock had his hands still firmly wrapped behind his back and Kirk had the weirdest urge to reach around and grab one of them.
Because his head was aching and his own hands were shaking, and the whole crew probably hated him right now, but that was life. That was how it had to be, the needs of the many. "Well, hopefully you remember that next time ensign Chekov decides to run up to you and hug you like a polar bear." Spock tilted his head, brow slightly raised. "As you know, touching and behavior are two entirely separate manners of communication." A beat. "Not to us Spock." There was a cold silence, one that seemed to have taken over the ship. "Not to humans." Kirk smiled, the smile was becoming less and less drained… a little more human.
Spock didn't know how to answer that, which was different, usually, he could derive a sentence or at least a word from anything his Captain would say. But this time he was at a loss, and soon the thought lost all place for they stood in front of the Captains quarters. Spocks own cabin joined to the Captains by a small lavatory in-between. A luxury considering most everyone else besides the CMO had to share certain restrooms assigned to clusters of 5-7 officers aboard the Enterprise. The fact that Kirk was standing there, as if waiting for something more to perplex him, when Kirks usually blunt and cocky expression went all small and unnaturally meek for what seemed a split moment.
"Mr. Spock, I'm probably going to hit the sack in a second. But would you care to join me for a game of chess?" Kirk gave the most debonair grin, mouth wide but eyes sad and deflated, commanding his door to slide open with a retinal scan and voice activation. Spock looked blankly, opening his mouth almost to say something but soon closing it reluctantly. With that the captain shook his head and sighed, "Alright Mr. Spock don't have a mini panic attack because of me. Good night Commander." A pause. "Captain." And with that Kirk knew it was the closest thing to a goodnight he'd ever receive.
The sad thing was, he tried, and he tried really hard to have a friendship with his Commander but even after the missions, after all the shit they'd been through Spock refused to play chess with him. Unless of course they were in the rec-room, alone or preferably with few people in sight, Spock typically gave him an air of discomfort when they were alone. It wasn't like he had god-damn Andorian shingles and it surely wasn't because he was human.
Finding that open time, that free moment with Spock was difficult, impossible nearly to the point of extinction. Kirk allowed himself to sigh, loudly, scroll through his PADD for a few minutes and have a tumbler of whiskey. It was at the second shot that he felt the small press of warmth against his body, the only warmth he'd ever get.
People thought he was this suave, sleek Captain who got all the chicks, even men. Which was true to some extent, he was bold and kissed pretty girls…hell, he even kissed a very hot, very sexy Prince on Epha VII. But he was a conquest, a trophy to win, not a lover and a friend, not a lifelong commitment. Just a trophy to win and place behind a million others; and that is why the Captain no longer gave into those small tender moments with just anyone.
It's why he refused to follow little swooning diplomat's daughters, and every-day damsels into their quarters and give them hours of sex. He was a god-damn star-ship captain and he would act like a man, not a pig. And that was that, ever since Pike died he never had sex again.
Halfway into his sixth glass he realized that no, no he would probably have sex again. Just not for a long time, and not with just anyone. And he started laughing, stupidly, illogically; at the thought because sadly he knew that wouldn't be until he was done captaining the star-ship.
But as long as he had her, that was okay. As long as he had his ship and crew at the end of the day that was enough. That was fucking enough; he laughed again at the thought and now realized he was well into his eleventh.
That bold realization hit him right after he commanded his computer to show side view panels, and he watched as they warp factor 6'd through the stars. The realization that he knew why he'd never do it, never slip into another floozy's bed.
He loved his first officer.
Shit.
Kirk laughed, again, loudly realizing that warm feeling was now an all over drunkenness. Strong whiskey did this to him. He barely had time to finish the small last remnants of the bottle when he lulled back, staring at the ceiling with dismay, heartache.
Repeating, He has his ship, he has his crew, everything was gonna be alright.
That kept him from crying, but not from the ache in his heart, before he could even think a second more he spoke that beautiful, foreign alien name before darkness collapsed everything and he fell into the inebriated pool of unconsciousness.
"S-Spock..."
0o0o0
The synthetic sound of medical equipment, the whirr of machinery and McCoy wanted to cry out. He'd do anything to see ole' miss, everything here was cold, white and unfriendly. He remembered the cool creeks, and the ocean. The salty smell mixed with boat wax and fish frying near-by and he could almost hear the waves when a sighing Chapel came flying into the room, busy as always. The doctor'd never admit he was daydreaming so he cut to the chase and started a conversation.
"Honestly, I feel bad a little… a little." Chapel gave him a knowing glance, folding her arms. "I have a feeling that the Captain isn't doing to hot either." She was cleaning a medical scanner and placing it in its proper holding tube while reaching for another. McCoy glaring at her from afar, stylus about to break in his hands from the clenching.
"You know, that's just the damn thing… he never obeys orders like this. Specifically the dangerous ones that make no sense…" Chapel huffed and handed the doctor a container of hypos, as she disinfected the next scanner. "For once I think you're being too hard on the Captain. Just listen to yourself." Chapel finally got around to packing up her own kit before pressing off duty.
0o0o0
The turbo-lift was taking an exceptionally long time between floors, or so it seemed to those who were in it. A group of personnel lined the circular walls whilst a particularly pint-sized officer stood in the middle of them all. His wild and perpetually messy platinum blonde curls were today matted with bits of twig and the odd thorny branch or two. The standard issue botany apron seemed to also be in quite a soil-smudged state of disarray, with a couple of rather worrying chunks ripped from the edges. He was talking…or rather, lecturing in excited Received Pronunciation.
"The most fascinating aspect of the plant is its tubers; they are encased in an extremely delicate membrane sack. One prod and the whole thing will explode spraying you in a sticky tar-like acid, sort of like natural napalm. You try opening one of those buggers without a suit on, it'll take your face off!" The blonde laughed enthusiastically; a reaction that was not reciprocated by the other crew members trapped in the turbo-lift with him.
When finally they descended to the Medical Bay level the blonde watched as the men and women around him surged out eagerly (desperately) into the awaiting corridor. The young man let a happy sigh escape his lips and allowed is reluctant students to spill forth and spread his botanical gospel. Despite losing his crowd he was nevertheless glad to have enlightened them. Small fists balled around the corners of transparent bag that he had been brandishing the entire time. It was half full of a dried plant, crumbled into many suspicious pieces.
The Enterprise was home to a brand new Chief of Botany, Lt Gabriel Valentine. Who had been an emergency replacement for the previous CoB who had been quite careless with a colony of lethal spores, a mistake that had almost cost him his life, and had definitely cost him one lung. Gabriel was a bright young boy from the England's Home Counties. Fiercely intelligent, brilliant and ever so slightly mad, he came highly recommended of course.
Stepping out after the crowd the grubby-looking Officer marched directly in through the main doors, waiting patiently in the middle of the room. His angelic face beaming a smile to all those around him who stared, still clutching the bag in his hands like a schoolboy with his lunch bag, cerulean eyes scanning for someone to attend to his most important business.
McCoy had just shoo'd half the damn planet out of his bay, when he noticed a peculiar blonde amongst them. At first, he ignored the kid entirely groaning about the people they hire these days and the lack of help he had. But then it became apparent this kid was waiting for someone, and in turn was holding up his bay, "Who the hell are you, and why are you in the middle of my sick-bay?" The Doctor was across the room, giving him a shady glare.
The room was pretty much empty now besides the disheveled blonde, and the beta-shift nurse who really didn't talk much. Thank god, he could hear the dribbling sound of medical equipment, and that sound typically eased his mood. Because when he could stop for only a few seconds and hear that faint white noise it meant most everyone was cleared from his bay and he had done his job effectively.
"Who let a kid wander'a-bout here? Since when do we let children on this ship?" He questioned his nurse, Chapel who was sitting reading a book, and the single dazed yeoman Thom who was reading on a near-by bed who shook his head a little. Chapel was off-duty but liked to stand-by in times like these just in-case, she looked like she wanted to say something but was kind of perplexed at the whole situation so just sat in stand-by.
The smile on the Botanist's lips was unflinching, blue eyes fixed directly upon the imposing man standing before him, waiting politely for him to finish before replying. "Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself". He wiped a grubby hand on his even grubbier apron and offered it out towards him. "I'm Lt Valentine, your new Chief of Botany". He retracted the hand was he was quite satisfied that there would be no reciprocation and calmly gripped the bag again. "I've heard that you have a crew member suffering with a case of Cafard". He offered the transparent bag towards the Doctor, arms outstretched before him. "So I bought something from my lab that might help to elevate their mood."
Lieutenant? He almost choked on air, the kid, was a ranking officer. Oh swell. "Sh..well, I'm McCoy… this is my sick-bay and what in gods almighty name is…" He ripped the bag away from Gabriel and gave a questioning glare. "This better not be what it looks like." Sure, for the average civilian Marijuana was legal. But for an officer, it wasn't allowed and was strictly prohibited and subject to court martial. He sniffed it, and it smelled rank as all get, but he had a clue that it wasn't Marijuana. At least not an earth-born form, and the kid looked like he'd done crawled out of a bush and napped there for a week.
The Botanist divulged in a roll of his eyes at the Doctor's reaction. "Dr McCoy, this is not Marijuana, it is the Klingon Hu'DI' loD poch". His pronunciation was spot on, a rather drastic tonal change from his usual lilting British Standard. "Or, in Federation Standard, the Up Plant." He prodded the bag with a finger, soil stuck under his short, yet perfect nails. "Very dangerous to procure, but used by the Klingon to lift spirits and fight the symptoms of Cafard on their vessels". He cleared his throat after a moment of standing awkwardly beneath the Doctor's accusing gaze. "So, I suggest you brew a tea with the leaves and let him drink. He'll be feeling peachy-keen again in no time."
The Botanist was so…short… and that abrupt Klingon didn't help soothe the doctor either. Who the /hell/ was this kid? Really, the lieutenant was prettier than a girl but was clearly a guy…right? "Alright, so how in the hell did you know there was a man on board with Cafard? I sure as hell didn't issue an alert…" It was Genius, simply perfect genius and McCoy went through his archives on the Computer before him; looking into the effects of the plant and even its side effects were nearly harmless.
Because of course it was a natural herb, and those didn't really procure that many awful effects unless you were allergic. "It sounds promising," The doctors tone softened, but his eyes were hard and beyond tired looking. "But I need to run it by a few superiors before I can use it, seeing as it isn't in the Federation Regulation Guide of Medicine; mostly because its Klingon." McCoy added putting the plant remnants into a secure hypo-vile for safe keeping.
"Can you procure legal documentation that this plant was grown and harvested on the Enterprise and in no way was bought or sold in Klingon presence?" McCoy added, this was another thing, it was illegal to make a non-federation informed trade with either the Klingons or Romulans. Even trading with Orion or Ferengi could be deemed illegal and be issued court martial.
Lieutenant Gabriel raised his blonde brows and pouted his lips thoughtfully at the question, and after a moment of thinking he finally replied. "I cannot answer that question, Doctor". He may or may not have acquired most of his cuttings and saplings from hideously illegal areas of the galaxy and beyond. "Brew for three minutes with 90 degree water. That always guarantees a perfect cup of tea". He took one last curious glance around the Sick Bay before nodding firmly, satisfied that he had done what he had come to do. "Good Evening, Doctor". And with that he turned on his heels and promptly exited out into the corridor, picking a leaf out of his hair as he went.
McCoy was a tad flabbergasted but watched as the kid stated his business promptly and exited out of the bay. "Well, legally obtained and documented it is." He noted in a grumble, bullshiting forms was super illegal but when Chapel laughed and nodded it was a well known statement. On this crazy ship, what is, is, and the needs of this ship outweighed the needs of a few willy-nilly officers.
He already liked the kid.
0o0o0
It was alpha shift, they were fifteen minutes away from their place in NGC four hundred, and Captain Kirk had been sitting there bored, waiting for their arrival all day. Again, it was a typical sight on the bridge, everyone at their acquired post, and it was something that gave Kirk stability.
His life before the Enterprise was never stable, never fulfilling, and he never had a family like this before.
My crew is my family, Kirk. Is there anything you would not do for your family?
Those words rang in his head and he held his forehead in disgust, hiding that emotion while he was on the bridge to save face when Spock who had been standing beside him the entire time placed his hand on Kirks shoulder. "Captain, ETA is now 5 minutes." Kirk knew who's voice and hand that was immediately and looked up to grin a small smile at his first officer. There was a small shared glance, when Spock simply pulled his hands away and laid them behind his back immediately, almost as if realizing the touch was a breech of some sort. When really, it wasn't to Jim and it was well needed, "Alright, steady as she goes, drop warp steadily and remain on impulse at arrival."
"Aye Keptin."
"Yes Captain."
His helmsman called, when it became a second's countdown and the bridge steadily came to an almost stop. Arriving at their destination in one piece, it was easy.
Almost too easy.
TBC please RnR
