I awoke to find myself lying on a bed in the Enterprise's sickbay, with Christine Chapel looming over me, looking as stern and severe in her jet black nurse's uniform as she always did.

"Good morning, Janice," she said, fixing me with that intense, unblinking stare.

I was securely strapped to the bed, so securely in fact that the straps were cutting into the flesh of my arms.

"Nurse Chapel," I said, "I'm...I'm..."

I tried to tell her I was really Jim Kirk but the words died in my throat. I tried again.

"Janice Lester," I said, "she...I..."

"Yes, you're Janice Lester," said Nurse Chapel, briskly. "Some confusion is only to be expected in your condition."

This obviously wasn't going to work. I'd need another approach.

"These restraints are very tight."

"Yes they are, aren't they?" she agreed, "I made them as tight as I could. Do they hurt?"

"Yes."

"That's good. Pain is good. Pain lets us know we're alive. Do you enjoy pain, Janice?"

"No, not really. Could you release me and give me something I can write with, please?"

"If you insist," she said, sounding disappointed.

She undid the straps and, while I was rubbing feeling back into my arms, rummaged around in a drawer, producing a paper pad and a pencil. I took them from her and wrote: I am Captain James T Kirk.

I gave her back the pad and she read what I'd written, looking puzzled.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Please read it back to me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I wouldn't know how."

She handed the pad back to me. Despite what I thought I'd written, what it actually said was: I am Pncgnva Wnzrf G Xvex.

It appeared the bio-collar wouldn't let me write what had happened either. Looking down, I saw that my clothes had been swapped for a blue, standard issue medical patient's robe. I gave Christine a questioning look.

"I changed you out of your clothes and into the robe myself," she explained, "and I must say that's quite the hot little body you have there, Janice; your skin...so creamy and so soft. I'd love to explore its limits with you some time, to help you find that sweet point where pain becomes pleasure, and to transport you to levels of ecstasy you've never dreamed of. Would you like me to do that for you, Janice?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass."

I'd seen inside Nurse Chapel's quarters, seen the whips, straps, chains and 'toys' she used in pursuit of her belief that pain was the only true route to pleasure. It was a belief she was positively evangelical in pursuing, but it held no appeal for me. That was more Mr Sulu's thing, though I had once had to reprimand him after a session with Nurse Chapel left him too sore to be able to sit in his seat at helm.

"Suit yourself," said Christine, with a shrug, "but you don't know what you're missing."

No, I didn't, nor did I have any great desire to find out. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I was now fully awake for the first time since Janice Lester had put my mind in her body, and acutely aware of how different it was from my own. I was smaller, weaker, a woman. Crossing over to the mirror felt very strange. My now wider hips, my larger butt, and my breasts all contributed to a very different weight distribution than I was used to giving me a much altered gait. But it was looking into the mirror and seeing my new face for the first time that really brought everything crashing home, that made this real. In my head it was still me, still Jim Kirk looking into that mirror, but it was undeniably Janice Lester staring back at me. She blinked when I did, pursed her lips as I pursed mine, and when I raised my hands to my face, it was her long, slender fingers I saw, both in front of my face and reflecting back from in front of hers. I used to have good hands, strong hands, hands powerful enough to strangle someone with or even to break their neck, but these...? What damage could I inflict with these if I needed to hurt someone? Was I supposed to scratch out their eyes? Unless and until I could reverse what had happened, this was who I was now. If I couldn't reverse it I would be Janice Lester until the day I died.

With ironic if impeccable timing, the sickbay door whooshed open and the real Janice Lester strode in followed by Uhura and Marlena - Lieutenant Marlena Moreau, the captain's woman, my concubine.

"Leave us, nurse," ordered Janice, and Christine scurried away.

"What's going on?" I asked, but everyone ignored me.

"Marlena, you've been the Captain's woman for several years now, but you're no longer satisfied in that role and looking for a way out that doesn't involve loss of face, correct?"

Wha...? How could she know that?

"I...yes, I have," she said, studying Janice's face intensely, the face of the person she believed to be me, clearly wondering where this was leading.

"Promotion to a command position on the bridge like, say, communications officer would fit the bill, I assume?"

"Yes, yes it would," she replied, casting a speculative eye over Uhura, who was beginning to look nervous."

"Good, because that's what I'm offering you. I don't want her harmed, but if you successfully challenge Uhura here the position is yours. Do you agree to the challenge."

"I do," she said, pulling out her knife.

"Computer," said Janice, speaking to the air, "turn on sickbay recorders on my authorisation."

"Recorders on," replied an electronic voice.

"Good, then let the challenge commence."

Marlena launched herself at Uhura, who screamed as she fumbled her own knife from where it lay sheathed in the top of her boot. The outcome of the challenge was never in doubt. Marlena was by far the more skilled of the two with a knife, and in less than a minute she was on top of Uhura with her knife at the other woman's throat. Miraculously, neither of them had been cut.

"Do you yield?" she said.

"I yield! I yield!" cried Uhura, tears in her eyes.

"The challenge has been recorded for all the crew to see," said Janice, "and won by Lt Marlena Moreau, who henceforth will be the ship's new communications officer. Furthermore, Lt Nyota Uhura is now reduced in rank to Yeoman, effective immediately. That is all. Computer, cease recording."

"Recording ceased."

"Thank you, Captain," said Marlena, casting a contemptuous glance at Uhura, "I'll head up to the bridge and assume my new position immediately."

When she had gone, Janice helped Uhura to her feet.

"I don't understand," she said, "why did you do that?"

"I told you you wouldn't need to know how to be a communications officer, and now you don't."

"So what will I be doing?"

"You'll report directly to me alone. In essence, you'll be my personal assistant, my secretary."

"Your...secretary?"

The last time I had a personal yeoman was two and a half years ago. Her name was Janice Rand. When I found her adding poison to my food I strangled her to death with my bare hands. In retrospect not the most sensible thing to have done since I then had no way of discovering who had put her up to it.

"Ah, now I get it," I said. "That also explains why the challenge was held here. You and me, Uhura, we're the audience"

"Of course you are," said Janice. "You're the only ones who know what I've done. When it's something as audacious as this you want someone to be able to appreciate your accomplishment, and that's you, ladies. Oh, and Uhura? I'm taking Miss Lester here up to the bridge with me. Get me an apple and a glass of water and meet us up there. And don't hang round; what I'll be showing her is something I want you both to see."

Uhura frowned, as if she was about to say something, but instead she sighed and hurried from the room to comply with Janice's request. I smiled. Janice had made her first mistake and she didn't even know it. As she and I exited sickbay together, her security squad took their positions around us. They stuck with us all the way to the turbolift, two of their number travelling in it with us up to the bridge. Once we were there, Janice swaggered over to the captain's chair and dropped into it. Spock, standing in his usual spot, raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing. Marlena, newly-installed at the communications station, gave Janice a quick smile.

"Has the target been acquired and the phasers locked on, Mr Sulu?" asked Janice.

"Yes sir, they have," replied Sulu, his wide, handsome face marred by the ugly scar on its right side.

"Then get them ready to fire."

Fire? What were they targeting? As I was wondering this so Uhura arrived on the bridge, carrying a small tray bearing the apple and the glass of water Janice had ordered. There were snickers from several of the bridge crew at the sight of their former colleague reduced to such menial duties. Uhura took up position beside the captain's chair and Janice took the apple.

"Thank you, yeoman," she said, biting into it, "you're just in time for the show. OK, Mr Sulu, when you're ready, fire phasers."

"Aye, aye, captain."

I watched on the screen as the ship's mighty phasers fired on a spot on the planet below. A few seconds of this was all it took. Blue flame erupted from the spot, shooting high enough to be visible on the screen, before fading away.

"The excavations..." I whispered, my heart racing.

It was gone. The machine was gone.