Summary; expansion on my oneshot, xenophobia, where Mr. Spock is transferred temporarily under a xenophobic captain.
Because it's just too easy to see Spock so clinically gaining allies and mutinying. :)
Disclaimer: Again, I do not own Star Trek or people, places, etc. etc.
C4
Harcourt had said little else. After taking a few moments where she seemed to come to terms with the idea of mutiny, the ultimate blasphemy on a starship, she asked if he had any plans; he informed her, honestly, that he was attempting to first make people suspicious of the captain before openly approaching anyone else. She agreed with this plan and promised to do the same, though she seemed troubled still. He could not hold blame on her for that, however.
He returned to the bridge, garnering more than one assessing look as he went about his duties. He was relieved when Ganby did not call him to the briefing room again, apparently still cautious after the scene on the bridge earlier. He retreated to his quarters, settling once more on his bed to meditate.
For the first time that day he allowed himself to forget about his plans, just for awhile, and considered instead the strange emotions he had felt that day.
First, the briefing room. Why did the sight of it cause fear in him? And the sight of the captain now, as well? It was illogical. He had before faced greater hurts, greater tortures, much more dismal fates than this. Why would this, of all things, cause him such worry when he had faced such things? He was Vulcan - his people were well known for their strength in such matters. Why did this affect him so?
He searched for the answer, considering what he knew of psychology, the beginnings of these feelings, and their possible sources.
Mostly, he focused on the first incident, where Granby's anger had first manifested itself so physically. He recalled now the feeling - hurtshockconfusedbetrayal.
Betrayal - was that it? He decided it was. He had trusted Starfleet and her officers. The thought of one of the captains being capable of such cruelty had obviously had a deeper psychological effect than a similar incident would if the attacker was unknown to him.
This was why Vulcans shut away emotion.
Docter Harcourt sank to her chair as the Commander left, burying her face in her hands and wondering what she was going to do.
She couldn't mutiny, but she had to. What choice was there? Yes, Ganby was her superior, her captain, but he also had been abusing his authority and his crew, at least one of them, physically and verbally. She was a doctor; it was her job to heal the hurts of the crew. She could not let them become hurt. She would help the Commander.
Mutiny. The word left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Tenth Day
The next day's Alpha shift passed mostly without incident, with Spock discretely watching the crew's behavior. Ganby did deign to speak with him this day, coldly and rudely, and he saw the Navigator, First Officer, and Communications Officer casting the captain troubled looks at these times, along with mostly anyone else on the bridge sans the pilot.
It occurred to Spock that he had not seen any other aliens on the ship.
Spock had been nothing but perfectly respectable the entire shift, this he was sure of. Nonetheless he found himself being ordered to meet the captain in the briefing room (cue strange icy feeling) which caused Roland, overhearing, to look at him oddly.
He walked away from that room some twenty minutes later with four new bruises, none of which were visible, and a strange feeling in his abdomen that told him a rib had been cracked with one of those bruises. Ganby had ordered him to avoid suspicion and not visit sickbay. He ignored this order.
Harcourt did not look surpised to see him, though certainly displeased. Spock saw that the nurses watched him with worry when they thought he could not see them. Harcourt had been talking, then, as she had said. Good.
She did not bother trying to be discrete now; to help the rumors, she treated his new wounds in full sight of everyone in the main Sickbay, including the cracked rib. The nurses seemed to be watching attentively. He thought his plans might come to fruition even sooner than he had hoped.
Eleventh Day.
Today, after Spock left the briefing room (two bruises on stomach, broken finger) he was prepared to go again to Sickbay when he was stopped by the navigator, Lieutenant Welkis. He paused as the other approached him, raising an eyebrow in silent question.
The navigator lifted his chin boldly. "Sir, would you care to join me the mess hall?"
Spock's first thought was that he would have a chance to speak with more people to turn against Granby. The second was realizing that he had not eaten in twelve days - and while he had gone much longer, as a Vulcan, that was not exactly healthy.
"That would be agreeable."
He accompanied Welkis to the mess hall. After retrieving some Plomeek Soup from the replicators he sat next to Welkis. This seemed to be some sort of signal, for it seemed that suddenly within the next three minutes the table had been ambushed, with everyone glancing at him not-so-unobtrusively.
For the time, however, they seemed to yet be gathering the courage to speak with him, instead chatting amongst themselves and apparently trying to seem casual. The conversation itself was... interesting.
"Have you heard what the captain did? I hear he was trying to flirt with that poor yeoman, Emma Barns, again, and... well, I hear he was rather insistent," the crewman said pointedly. Her friend looked disgusted, but.. unsurprised? Interesting. He doubted the truth of this statement, of course - rumors, as he had learnt, often were far from the mark - but it was a sign that the crew did not hold much trust in their captain; this would make his task much easier. He realized that he had, subconsciously, been equating the loyalty of this crew as to that of the Enterprise to Jim; but that was not necessarily accurate.
"Come off it," another said. "He wouldn't dare, not after what happened last year, he's been treading lightly since then."
"As he should be," a man wearing blue growled. He recognized him from Science, crewman Sarns. "How he even kept his command..."
Spock was interested, but an ensign wearing red - a member of security - said, coldly, "I'm sure you're not talking ill of the captain, are you?"
A pause.
"..Of course not."
There was an awkward silence from those he was eavesdropping on, and suddenly someone was speaking to him. "So, Commander, what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in here before..."
Now he had to make pleasantries, for a time, it seemed. Informing them truthfully that he had not eaten in twelve days appalled them, and he was quick to reassure the others that Vulcans could quite easily go as long and even longer without sustenance, as he had before.
"Like when?" Welkis asked.
"On one occasion, I did not eat for nine weeks, two days when the captain was left behind on a planet; as our duties forced us to - "
"What happened to your finger?" Someone interrupted. There were quick gasps as eyes were drawn to it, and he forced back the urge to draw back his hand.
"Is it broken?" Welkis asked, horrified. It was rather unsightly now, swollen and bent unnaturally.
"Yes, I believe it is," Spock observed mildly.
"Shouldn't you get that treated?"
"How did it break?" Welkis interrupted. "It was fine on the bridge, and I walked with you here right after you left your talk with the captain in the - briefing room..."
A confused look came over his face now, his mind immediately supplying an answer that he refused to accept.
"Indeed," was all Spock said.
There was a strange pause, everyone at the table gazing around, disconcerted, and after collecting himself (but still looking rather baffled,) Welkis stood abruptly. "I'll walk with you to Sickbay to get that set."
Spock did not argue. They left now, the table slowly returning to life behind them. When they reached Sickbay, Harcourt didn't even glance at Welkis. "Again? I'm going to - I swear..." She set the bone herself and fixed it, warning him that it would still be fragile and liable to break for a few days, so for her sake keep the other hand in front of him while he spoke with the captain, please? She stalked away. Spock knew her fury was quite sincere. He also knew her 'slip' was not so coincidental.
"Captain..."
Spock nodded to Welkis politely. "It was kind of you to come with me," he said neutrally. "If you will excuse me...?"
Welkis seemed to look past him, nodding dumbly. Spock left calmly, eyes straight ahead even as he acknowledged from the corner of his eyes the horrified nurses watching.
Yes, his plans were certainly going quicker than he had expected.
Twelfth day.
Spock had not entered the Science labs at all the previous day, and now as he did so he was immediately accosted by Valit, flanked by two other science officers. They all wore identical looks of determination.
"Sir, may I speak with you?"
He expressed not even the slightest hint of emotion. "Of course."
He followed the three through several rooms of the Science Department until finally they came to a deserted one. Valit stepped forward as the door first, taking a deep breath. The other two looked equally grim.
"Sir, from what you've said the other day, and what I've heard about from others, I'm going to say the 'captain' is not so fond of you."
"A reasonable assumption."
"Sir, has been psysically abusing his authority?" Valit's voice was hushed, as though timid, but his eyes burned.
"Indeed."
Valit did not look surprised, though he clenched his teeth. "I can't..." he took a breath. "Why haven't you said anything?"
"Whatever accusations I have would need to go through Starfleet. Otherwise, the captain could be apprehended, but he would refuse, and if he did not comply I have no doubt that he could convince others - at least security, who are rightly loyal to the captain whatever the circumstances - to let him be. And, more than likely, the consequences for my attempts would be... less than favourable."
Valit looked at him for a long moment. He was silent, quicker on the uptake than Harcourt. "But you're not going to let this go on," Valit finally concluded.
"I am not."
Valit glanced behind him to the other two, who nodded grimly. He turned back. "Sir, we've been thinking among the same lines since we became suspicious. We've asked around; Science is with you, whatever the consequences."
The Science department and likely medical, and at least a pilot...
That, however, still left one vital area; Engineering.
Day Thirteen.
Returning to his quarters after leaving Sickbay (four new bruises, cracked jaw) he there encountered Valit and two different science officers specializing in computer sciences. Coming inside his room (Valit's face had twitched a little at the size, though he had not commented) he explained that they thought it would be best to find a way to corral the dissenters onto some of the unneeded decks and lock them in with the systems until they could reach another Starfleet vessel. Spock had been considering such a thing himself, but was pleased at Valit's initiative; obviously, he had chosen well. Valit and the others with Spock now went back down to the labs. Valit mentioning in a quiet whisper that all of Science was in the know and would support them when the time came. Indeed, no one seemed surprised to see them on the Beta-Shift, and no one reacted at all when they went about the business of setting up the take-over of the ship.
Day Fourteen.
After leaving Sickbay (five bruises) he decided to detour to Engineering. There he met with the chief engineer, Lieutenant-Commander Justiv.
That meeting, however, did not prove so fruitful. Justiv, when casually enquired, seemed to be fond of the captain, or at least unlikely to mutiny. All though, he himself was a rather abrasive person - his subordinates did not seem fond of him.
He would have thought longer on how to convince him, but instead decided that Justiv was not needed, as long as enough of engineering could be swayed. He had a feeling this one would take many days, and he was starting to grow anxious. On Valit's recommendation of intuitive individuals, he selected four science officers and 'assigned' them to the duty of finding and convincing likely engineering converts. They took their duties seriously.
Day Fifteen.
Ganby had gone into a full fury over some recorded report that had reached them from Starfleet. He bore fourteen bruises, one broken rib, and a black eye. He carefully, painfully documented them before preceeding to Sickbay, where Harcourt first did the same. Harcourt had healed his bruises, then looked at him silently.
"Soon," was all he said.
Day Sixteen
Valit reported that Science was becoming increasingly hostile to security, who were starting to get suspicious. The four officers 'assigned' to Engineering were so far making some progress; fifteen had already been singled out and 'converted' successfully. It seemed no one had much fondness for the captain or Justiv. It wouldn't be hard to get more, he assured. Medical pledged their complete support and began setting up some aid of their own for the mutiny.
Seven bruises.
Day Seventeen
Black eye. Broken wrist.
Day Eighteen
He approached Roland and the Communications Officer and told them, flat out, what he meant to do, explaining the circumstances and presenting evidence. Roland refused to help, but before he could nerve-pinch him he also said that he would remain neutral; he wanted no part in this, and that Spock accepted, at least. The Communications Officer reluctantly agreed, though it took much urging.
It seemed that Ganby's demeanour was, interestingly, becoming worse - and not just to Spock. As though emboldened by his apparent invulnerability, he was much more harsh to the crew, though certainly he did not act like he did with the Vulcan. Still, it did well in cementing the loyalties of the other mutineers. Despite the likelihood of severe repercussions from Starfleet, the crew was determined to get rid of Ganby.
Day Twenty-one
He had meant to wait another day or so, to finalize the preperations, but it seemed that this wasn't necessary.
On the bridge at the time of the incident were two science ensigns (both rather large), the Communications Officer, Roland, Ganby, Spock, Welkis, the pilot, two yeomans, and one member of engineering.
Ganby had been in a particularly bad mood that day, as everyone noticed. He was snappy enough that everyone's tempers were frayed, but part way through the shift he had, perhaps predictably, focused his anger on his favored target.
Part way through a not-so-veiled insult on Spock's parentage, one of the science crewman, Sarns, finally snapped. He had been one who had been particularly fanatic about the upcoming mutiny (there had been a few reference here again to a scandal the past year and the man's cousin, though as of yet he had no details still) and it seemed to be to much for him. Striding up to the captain, he smashed a fist right into his face.
Chaos.
The pilot and one of the yeomans sprang up. Before they could converge on Sarns the engineer and Welkis had pinned them, and the Communications Officer immediately opened a ship-wide channel as Spock moved forward to nerve-pinch them and the captain.
"All members of security to decks 15-17! Everyone else not ordered otherwise beforehand decks 18-19!" These floors were only filled with quarters, and had already been fixed. Once the force-fields were activated in the entrances, they would be trapped.
"Be on these decks within five minutes and await orders!"
It began quickly. The puzzled officers hurried to these orders. The mutineers had already been 'ordered otherwise' and continued their tasks, trying to seem casual. Five minutes later the force fields were up and Valit called Communications, confirming that the new features installed in the computers would make it impossible for any but Spock, Valit himself, Welkis, and Harcourt to take control. Valit came up to join them on the bridge.
"Ah..." The Communications Officer winced as her instruments began shrieking as she was bombarded with calls from the decks 15-19. She shut off their communications ability, sighing with relief.
It occurred to Spock that this was the first mutiny on a Starfleet vessel in history not prompted by some strange disease or mind-controlling aliens. The thought was... unsettling.
Spock sat in the Captain's chair, tapping the comm. button. "Spock to engineering. Is the area secure?"
"Aye aye, Sir."
The other areas of the ship said likewise. Spock nodded toward Welkis and the temporary pilot, one of his Science lieutenants. Science and Medical were posted in most areas, as his most trusted on this ship. "Warp Six, to the nearest StarBase. Communications Officer, please send the pre-recorded message to Starfleet explaining the circumstances."
"Aye aye, Sir."
Day Twenty-Three.
"Sir! There's a Federation vessel approaching!"
Spock sat straighter in his seat, as did everyone else. The atmosphere had been tense, but so far nothing of interest had happened since the quick take-over.
"Magnify."
Indeed, a starship was approaching - and one Spock knew very well.
"Fascinating."
"Sir, the Enterprise is hailing us."
He didn't even hesitate. "On screen."
The familiar bridge of the Enterprise was shown, with the senior officers - including his true captain - staring at him with surprise, and also delight.
"Spock!" Jim grinned at him. "What's the Defiant doing here? Where is the captain?"
Spock felt a strange chill take over him, but his face was smooth and blank. "Sir, I have assumed command of the Defiant. Ganby has been locked in the brig."
Jim was delighted to see his first officer, but Spock's words made him stare, confused.
As his mind took in what he had said, it occurred to him that of the twelve people on the bridge, nine of them wore Science-blue.
"...Spock?"
His first officer's face was totally blank. "The crew mutinied and has been under my command as of 1300 hours two days ago, Captain. We have contacted Starfleet explaining the circumstances; however, I believe it would be appropriate for you to hold me in the brig and take command of the Defiant until Starfleet says otherwise."
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