Peter Kirk-Chapter Two

Peter was extremely grateful that Doctor Bashir cured him. He hadn't felt this good since before the alien creatures attacked Deneva a hundred years ago. He vowed that, if he ever returned to the previous century, he would set up a trust fund for the brilliant young doctor. Little did he know that the amount saved through thirty years of compounded interest would pay for Julian's genetic enhancement. Bashir's parents never found out who their benefactor was, but now Julian knew. There had been enough left over for his parents to retire early and live comfortably on for the rest of their lives.

Much to Jadzia's relief and surprise, Peter took the news that she was once his friend Curzon very well. He also accepted the fact the Klingons had become allies with Humans. In fact, he insisted on meeting Mr. Worf, much to almost everyone's (except Dax's) surprise. He even marveled at how much Worf resembled his defense attorney ancestor. When asked why his attitude towards Klingons was so different than his uncle's, Peter explained that he told himself that he would like everything his uncle James hated, for revenge for not visiting him in McCoy's sickbay when he was a child. Worf appreciated his honesty and determination. Peter was a survivor, and rightly so. Dax, on the other hand, felt that Peter should stop punishing his uncle for such an old wound, and gently suggested that he cool it and forgive James Kirk for what he did. Peter would have none of it, and Dax, feeling uncomfortable, excused herself and went back to work.

Bashir released Peter soon after that, and he was free to explore the station, under the watchful eyes of a shape shifter named Odo and Worf. Nobody gave them any trouble, and Peter began to feel a little embarrassed. Here he was, a grown man, fully capable of taking care of himself. What did he need with so much Security? Worf saw his point and excused himself. Odo decided after a few minutes that it was best to give their new guest some elbow room, so he, too, left his side. However, he kept an eye on him from afar. Peter noticed this and grinned. Odo did an equivalent of a blush.

***

(One hundred years ago)

"Captain's personal log, star date 3287.7. I felt very guilty about what I did to my poor little nephew, but there was nothing I could do. It was the hardest thing I ever did, staying away, but the sealed orders I just received take precedence, and will require careful planning, months in advance. I know Peter hates me, and, if it were me, I would, too. I wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to me again. I just hope I can make it up to him some day. This awful thing I just did has got McCoy wondering if I have lost my mind. Better and better…."

***

Peter found himself at the entrance to what looked like an eating establishment. He did have a few credits on him, and his stomach was starting to rumble. He had to make sure that this place really was what it appeared to be, though, so he stopped a Vulcan officer and a Saurian as they made their way out. He addressed the Vulcan with a little bit of uncertainty.

"Excuse me, sir. Is this a bar?"

"Why, yes it is, Mr. Kirk. You can also grab a bite to eat and the natives are very friendly. Watch out for the Ferengis, though." He admonished with a wink and an unexpected smile.

"What are Ferengis?"

"Let's just say they practice the art of Caveat Emptor." The Saurian officer replied pleasantly, instead.

"You'll find out what we mean when you meet them." The smiling Vulcan added.

"Thanks, guys. They sound like my kind of people."

***

Peter found it hard to ignore the stares of the people surrounding him as he sat with uncertainty at a table for one. He wondered if he would have to serve himself or if he would be waited on. There didn't seem to be any sign of a waiter. After a few minutes, he was about to leave when he was finally approached by a short bald being with huge ears. It was his turn to stare, since he had never seen anyone who looked like him before.

"What are you staring at, Hu-mon? Haven't you ever seen a Ferengi before?"

Seemingly out of nowhere, the smiling Vulcan was back with his lizard friend. The Vulcan put a firm hand on the alien's shoulder. Peter thought for a moment that he was going to give him a neck pinch, but he didn't.

"As a matter of fact, Quark, he hasn't!" He then addressed Peter with another lopsided smile. "What did I tell you? Watch out for Ferengis." He looked back at the big-eared waiter, stretching out his hand. "All right, bud. Hand it over."

"Hand what over?" The Ferengi responded with mock innocence.

"My old-style communicator. It's Starfleet property. If you hand it over quickly, I won't tell Odo about the stash of Venus drug you're keeping for the Dabo girls."

Peter chuckled with amusement as the Ferengi sheepishly handed the communicator back to him. The Vulcan (?) then finally decided to formally introduce himself and his reptilian companion.

"Welcome to the twenty-fourth century, sir. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Alice VF Cooper, the Seventh, and this is my commanding officer, Captain Dok Skwyr."

"Nice to meet you. How do you know who I am?"

"You'd be surprised how fast interesting information travels on this station. I have always wanted to meet someone of historical importance."

"Too bad that didn't happen, sir." Peter snorted. His stomach rumbled again. "Hey, pick pocket! What's today's special?"

"Aldebaran shell mouth chowder with fresh veggies." Quark answered quickly.

"Sounds delicious. How much?"

"How much do you have?" Quark asked greedily.

"Quark…" came a warning tone from Odo, who was standing in the doorway.

"Constable! Shell mouth doesn't come cheap. Anyway, I'm sure our distinguished guest doesn't have much latinum on him."

"What's latinum?" Peter asked curiously.

"A common currency around these parts," replied the man named Alice.

"I have credits for the medicine I was supposed to get on Star Base 42. Are credits still in use?"

"Not very much anymore, but they can be converted. How much do you have?"

"Fifty."

"You can double that amount with vohl races in the back." Offered Quark.

"Listen, you big-eared troll! I haven't eaten in almost a century and I'm hungry!" Peter snarled. "When I left the twenty-third century, a good bowl of Aldebaran chowder was four credits. You won't get a cent more! If my food is not here in five minutes and piping hot, I'm not leaving a tip!"

"Yessir!" The Ferengi scurried off.

To be continued…