Disclaimer: Oh, the havoc I would wreak if I owned Star Trek.
Christine filled her cup with Organian herbal tea, balancing her dinner tray with her free hand. She slowly turned her head to see a group of much-too-young ensigns seated at the nearest table. Their boyish eyes were glued to her form, unwilling to yank their thoughts from those of the physical kind. She rolled her eyes and shot them a dangerous glare. Nearly a week back on the ship and she had been bombarded with stares from those of the male persuasion.
When she joined McCoy and Jim at a small circular table in the back, she half-threw her tray onto the metal surface, creating a loud bang that restored the ensigns' turned heads back to their rightful positions.
"God, you'd think that by now I'd get used to supposedly turkey, but is really Gorn meat sandwiches," McCoy said, jabbing his fork at the mystery meat on his tray. He grabbed the edge of the table as a series of turbulent vibrations rang out from underneath them. "Not to mention the past three damned hours my face spent fused to the toilet."
"Think about it, Bones -- We're boldly going where no man has ever gone before," Jim exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air, his spoonful of blue applesauce splattering onto Christine's face. "Whoops, sorry Christine."
"Oh, you mean like Chapel's va--" Everyone at the table looked up at McCoy. His cup of ale was halfway raised to his mouth. "Violin. Chapel's violin. You'd be crazy to go near her playin' that thing, she could beat the Devil."
An awkward silence passed. Jim overloaded his sandwich with mustard, while Christine picked at her bread, all the while shooting deadly glares at McCoy.
The Enterprise was approaching one of the many starbases that inhabited the Beta Quadrant; it would be only another hour or so until they were ready for docking.
"Speakin' of the Devil," McCoy muttered under his breath as Spock joined the tongue-tied trio. His tray, like hers, was filled with anything that wouldn't catch up with him later.
"Greetings, Captain," the Vulcan science officer greeted his superior officer with a swift nod, not giving anyone else a moment's notice. McCoy silently mimicked the Commander, dramatically flicking his wrist and sticking his tongue out. Christine nudged him in the knee just before Spock glanced over at the doctor, making McCoy fidget slightly.
"So, um," Kirk piped in, "How is everyone adjusting to being back onboard?"
Christine nodded her response as she sipped from her tea, while Spock immediately jumped on the subject.
"It is satisfactory, Captain, that your return has prompted the immediate continuation of the initial mission."
McCoy nearly choked on his drink. "If by satisfactory, you mean incredibly inconvenient, then hell, I think I agree with ya for once, Spock-o." He raised his glass to the solemn Vulcan.
"That was not my statement, Doctor. I merely expressed my approval of his dedication to the ship and its crew."
"Well, woop-dee-doo, Spock! It's a shame that Jim doesn't work us like you did…Twenty hour days were the norm until we came home last week --"
"Doctor, I do not appreciate your tone --"
"Oh, I'll give you somethin' to not appreciate, alright --"
They were both on their feet now, with only a small circular table separating them; Spock seemed rigid, unwilling to engage in any sort of conflict, but still stood his ground. McCoy, on the other hand, was more than ready to take a swing, whether it be verbal or physical.
"Could you both just cut it out?!"
Everyone's heads turned to look at Christine. Both of her fists were clenched, the left one holding a rather dangerous grip on her metal spork.
"You alright, Chapel? You look it bit --"
"I would be a damn lot better if I didn't have to listen to you both constantly bickering! Everyday! Back and forth, back and forth…You two are like children bent on getting the last word! And I'm sick of it!"
"I agree with Christine," Jim said, raising a hand to signify his input. He then leaned over and whispered underneath his breath, "I think we can tag team 'em."
Christine groaned and rolled her eyes, fed up with it all. She suddenly stood, leaving her tray on the table. She felt all three of the officers eyes burning into her back as she left the mess hall.
Moments later, she was back inside her room. Christine slumped down on her bed. . Her head was fuming with frustration; a headache was beginning to raise her aggravation to an entirely new level. She hugged her knees to her chest and laid down sideways, feeling like the walls were caving in on her as the migraine intensified.
She was not meant to be here. And she knew it…Every inch of her being told her that morning -- the morning that she returned aboard the Enterprise -- that this was not her home. It was away from anything and everything that was apart of her: her family, her quiet position at the Academy, her modest apartment. None of those things were onboard and for whatever reason, she fooled herself into thinking that she could find something to hold onto that would stabilize her.
But that something was gone. She had lost all hope of gaining back whatever stability she had in her life fifteen months ago, when she made the biggest mistake of her life.
Pushing back tears, she left her room and headed back towards the mess hall. Seconds later, as she turned a corridor, she ran into Jim.
"Sir, I'd like to apologize --"
Suddenly, a very violent shake interrupted her mid-sentence, sending her stumbling halfway across the room in an attempt to steady herself.
"What the hell --" Christine muttered, regaining her balance.
Jim banged his fist on a small device on the wall that linked him to the bridge. "Bridge, Captain here! Explain!"
"Sir, we are being fired upon by an unknown vessel! It's also attacking the starbase!"
"Red alert, Lieutenant!" He then turned to her. "Get down to sickbay, Christine! We're gonna need all the help we can get!"
Christine nodded and spun around towards the nearest elevator, running at breakneck speed.
Uncalculated turbulence. Red alert.
Spock looked up from his computer at the bright light flashing in the corner of the room, signaling the ship's current distress status. The siren shrieked into his sensitive ears, making him slightly uncomfortable. This did not yield him in his pursuit to cross the room; moments later, he was in the long corridor. He made a right, making his way to the nearest elevator lift.
Suddenly, just as he sensed the closeness of the elevator the ship rocked from side-to-side, forcing him to clutch the wall to avoid injury.
Moments later, he was at the elevator. It opened and he found it unoccupied. Just as he stepped inside and was about to announce his desired location, he turned at the sound of speedily approaching footsteps.
"Hold the elevator!" the owner of the footsteps called to him. It was when the officer entered the lift that Spock could finally bring himself to realize who it was.
Christine Chapel hurried into the elevator, her respiration harsh. She leaned against the opposite wall of the small rectangular lift, staring up at him briefly through exhausted eyes.
Spock immediately focused his attention on the speaker with a small button underneath it perched on the wall. He pressed the button.
"This is Commander Spock, I'm on my way to the bridge."
Jim was already on the bridge. He answered and immediately explained the situation regarding the attacking ship. "Spock, the monitors say that Christine is there with you. You both need to get down to the transporter room. The intership communications have gone haywire and you two are the only senior officers that we can get on that starbase to aid in evacuations."
"Understood, Captain." The line then went dead. It was mere seconds when the doors parted to reveal the corridor that the transporter room was located on. Christine wasted no time in; she immediately strode out, as if he was not even there. She was in a half-run by the time they reached the transporter room.
Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott was at the controls, preparing for the immediate energizing of the evacuation team. A small group of half a dozen red-shirted ensigns were waiting for the two senior officers. As soon as they entered, the group immediately stood in attention, waiting for instructions.
Spock immediately informed them of the sudden attack of an unidentified vessel upon the starbase, and themselves. Their mission was to evacuate the inhabitants of the starbase.
Moments later, they were energized into the middle of a vast array of confusion and chaos. Starbase personnel were scattering into different directions, avoiding any possible of danger at all costs.
Christine suddenly took action, turning to the ensigns. "Two of you, come with me! If there are any injuries, I need to get them aboard as soon as possible!" They nodded at her and raced ahead. Just as Christine was about to follow, Spock called to her. "Doctor Chapel?"
"Yeah?" She turned, her blue eyes wide in alert and illuminated by the sparks of the damaged wiring protruding from the walls.
A brief moment of silence passed between the two. "Be careful."
Nearly ten minutes after energizing onto the starbase, Christine and the two ensigns were in the process of beaming up as many people as possible. With the maximum limit of only six per turn, it was her duty to pick out the neediest of the crowd; while there were few injuries, it was difficult splitting up families.
Just as the last of them were beamed aboard, Christine pulled out her communicator. "Doctor Chapel to the bridge."
The line was filled with static and it was very difficult to make out Jim's voice. "Christine…defeated enemy vessel…beam aboard…starbase…falling apart…" All communications then failed. She began to fiddle with the communicator.
A screeching sound filled her ears. She looked up. Shrapnel was raining from the dome-like ceiling. Shielding her face in instinct, she prayed to be energized on time.
Just as a sharp, painful sensation began to tear at her forearms, she was pushed out of the way by a very powerful force. Her forehead hit the steel wall and as she began to slowly lose consciousness, Christine recognized the lifeless body pinned to the floor by a large, fin-like piece of metal that was stained with fresh, Vulcan blood.
A/N: I'm sure you all want to beat me with a pillow case filled with bars of soap. But, if you did that, how would you be able to find out what happens next? Hm? Reviews would be amazing.