The lights didn't shine harshly in Conference Room Four as they did in all the other ones. For which he was grateful. Kirk was rather photosensitive, having developed nearly nocturnal habits at the Academy.
And since the captain liked to be comfortable when he talked to his command team, they often met in the dim room.
"For fuck's sake Jim, it's like a vampire den in here. How do you expect us to have serious discussions in a crypt?"
Ah, he could always count on McCoy for calling him out. And for being morbid.
The older, dark haired doctor was treated to Kirk's sweetest expression – the one he knew could drive sane men to attempt murder.
"Bones, I know it's hard having that crippling fear of the dark, but let's not overreact. It isn't any darker here than anywhere else on the ship."
"Your statement is incorrect Captain. Luminous intensity in this room is 3.0761 Iv less that of any other conference area. It is my hypothesis that you favor holding briefings in here because of it."
Spock, of course, could be counted on to ruin his stratagems. And to be uppity about it.
A throaty chuckle told Jim that his CMO believed himself winner of this round.
"I'll let you slide this time without a proper acknowledgment of defeat. Though I do owe the goblin some thanks."
"I do not desire your praise, Dr. McCoy; I desire your silence."
Now the chuckle belonged to Jim as he watched the two glaringly regard each other across the round table. Well, McCoy glared. Spock was stone. They were like oil and water, with Bones a boiling froth and Spock a slick surface atop it tossed by the waves, but never ruffled.
However, briefing had to commence, amusing though the stand-off was. The dilithium crystals weren't going to last forever and something had to be done with Mudd.
"Lovely as this is gentleman, we need to get started." His eyes swept the table clockwise, a cursory check. "I see all of us are her- where's my Communications Officer?"
Jim fixed narrowed eyes on Spock. It wouldn't be the first time Uhura flirted with disrespect, though she'd never before just not shown up to a command meeting; she did take her position seriously.
"You told her to be here, right?"
Spock slightly shifted in his seat, a sure sign of unease. Kirk's eyes tightened further.
"It was my duty to do so."
"You're not the Sphinx, Mr. Spock. Yes or no?"
Spock opened his mouth to reply, but was spared by Lt. Nyota Uhura bursting through the door. Well, an automatic door's closest facsimile to bursting.
Her eyes blazed and her typically cool demeanor was replaced by burningly angry one.
"Sorry to be late, Cad-Captain Kirk. I was looking into sudden cases of babbling crew members. I can't have communications breaking off today too."
A fierce look directed to his right punctuated her words; he didn't have to turn his head to know Spock was on the receiving end of it. Jim almost winced in sympathy, but luckily, he remembered how the First Officer had just sold him out to Bones and held himself in check. Though his curiosity was piqued as to why Uhura was so upset and what her romantic partner had to do with it.
He pushed the questions beginning to surface back into his mental depths. First, the briefing.
"Have a seat Lieutenant; you can inform us in your department report."
The still angrily parted lips clamped together and stiffly she sat down in her customary chair next to Spock. Her body remained tense, perched on the side of her seat furthest from him. For his part, the Vulcan looked unmoved, except for his eyes, which remained downcast.
Ooohhh, He must have seriously fucked up. I wonder… Focus. Meeting first, Spock interrogation later. Kirk cleared imaginary blockage from his throat, and hurriedly manipulated the flat table-top screen to display Mudd's information.
"Ahem. It appears that we have a career conman aboard, Harcourt Fenton Mudd. He has with him three women, none of whom are listed in Starfleet records, for crimes or space-flight clearance, so either they've never been there or they've been erased. I don't know what exactly Mudd's doing with those women, but considering his criminal history, I'd say it involves money. Some sort of get-quick-rich pyramid scheme. Mudd doesn't have a history of life-form trafficking, and the women are a little…old for it, but then again, they are…uh…exceptional… and its pretty lucrative, so I wouldn't rule it out."
Kirk waited, taking in the command crew's faces, which ranged from dreamy to disgusted. Disgust he understood. It was the dreamy that perturbed him. But then Mudd's crew flashed in his memory.
In that flash, Jim formed a hypothesis – the dreamy faces had received a dosage of the women. Which only worried him further because it was strange that the effect of their beauty was still so strong that it could combat the Enterprisians' loathing of traffickers; life-form trafficking and illegal slavery were the most abhorrent practices they'd had to combat thus far. The whole crew had been shaken by that one ring on Tygel 4 they broke up last month. The fact that some of his commanding officers could hear it suggested as a probability and still have moony faces made the women seem preternatural. The captain mentally noted that Bones should get a tricorder scan on them to see if they were previously encountered beings or some new entity altogether.
Jim felt eyes on him, ending his musings. It made his skin prickle, like sudden step from his family's warm farmhouse into the Iowa winter. He was used to being looked at, watched. The feeling of eyes never gave him pause. But these eyes were different. The burned, not with anger like Uhura's, but with something else. Something magnetic. His own eyes were dragged to meet those of the watcher.
Spock. Breaking Jim's thoughts and calling him back to the meeting just by looking at him.
It was absurd.
Jim couldn't suppress a spark of irritation at his new weakness and it helped him tear away from the dark gaze.
Seriously, how many times is he going to catch me like that today?
From his left, Bones stared up at him suspiciously. His friend didn't usually get caught up in thought when he was acting the captain, but when Jim did, it was nearly impossible to bust him from his mind's rabbit holes- warrens of tunnels full of information and connections his own brain could never hold. (Not that Bones thought himself stupid; he just recognized Jim's brilliance) Something in the room must have been pretty compelling to end it. Or someone…He looked around, but didn't see too many likely suspects. Nevertheless, it was something to watch out for – you never knew with Jim.
The captain sat quickly, like a marionette with carelessly cut strings.
"Scotty. Engineering report."
The Scottsman stood and reported the outlook for the dilithium crystals. It wasn't good. The capabilities of the second damaged one were draining fast and the whole one couldn't last long without its brothers. Kirk felt a headache brewing.
"Mr. Spock. Science report."
The elegant man fluidly rose from his seat, unfolding his body to its full height. Jim looked up at him, watching his movements, but carefully avoiding his eyes.
Uhura looked up too, painfully, seemingly against her will, as though it was a reflex ingrained.
Jim realized it probably was a reflex; Spock's presence commanded attention whether the audience wished to give it or not. He knew he certainly felt the same compulsion.
What he didn't know was why it seemed to hurt her. Kirk had felt bad for Spock when Uhura came in furious, but it had been in more of a friendly, watch-out-your-girl's-pissed kind of way. Now, looking at the Communication's Officer he felt sympathy in a profound, abstract way.
Jim had long ago accepted that the beautiful Nyota Uhura would never be his and they weren't exactly friends, but seeing the expression on her face as she looked at Spock – like he something great, something she wanted so badly, but couldn't have, like he was a paradigm of perfection who was untouchable though he dwelt among them – he empathized with her.
It was a sentiment he too felt when he came up against Spock's walls. Though his was probably a mere shade of Uhura's pain, since Jim just wanted friendship and she was looking for love.
His thoughts whispered treacherous things about Spock's eyes and his lean body and his strong features and how his very being called to Jim, but he squashed them ruthlessly. Friendship he told himself firmly. It wouldn't do any good wanting what could not be. He smiled wryly inside. It seemed both he and Uhura would be unsatisfied.
"I have formulated a plan Captain, after careful consideration and computation. It is statistically our best option, though I feel obliged to convey its limited chances of success, a ratio of 705, 637 to 1."
Spock glanced at Kirk, who nodded, an invitation to continue.
"We could channel the damaged crystal's remaining power into beaming a party to Rygell 12 to negotiate for new dilithium crystals from the mining settlement. The whole crystal will be able to keep the ship in orbit for eight hours, during which time we will be able to acquire crystals and the party can be beamed back aboard with the cargo. I will give the calculations to Mr. Scott; however, it must be stressed that the margin for error is slim, I cannot guarant-"
Jim waved his hand impatiently.
"But this is the idea you came up with; the best one you said. Then that's good enough for me. I trust you Mr. Spock."
The First Officer blinked unnecessarily. Jim interpreted it to be a shout of surprise. He grinned.
"Don't be shocked Spock. I did request you after all. Couldn't have my second being someone I didn't already respect."
"Indeed." The Vulcan's voice was a little rough. Spock retook his seat eyebrow slightly elevated. Kirk grinned wider. "Communications report Uhura."
She uncoiled like a spring, snapping upright. Her voice was carefully modulated, but emotions still stirred beneath the surface calm. Jim was growing more curious about her anger's cause by the minute as her deceptively melodic voice washed over him, but made his brain focus on her information. Apparently they were having trouble contacting the mining settlement, since the planet's atmosphere created interference and there were several mysterious cases of crewmembers losing the powers of speech or babbling incoherently. He barely suppressed a smile at that as she concluded.
"If you go meet our passengers, you'll understand clear enough Lieutenant."
Uhura looked at him with quizzical exasperation, but sat silently.
One by one he called on the other department heads. Security stated Mudd and his crew were quiet, though the man repeatedly attempted to ingratiate himself with his guards. The other departments reported little on their fronts except for hampered functionality by lack of power, which they hoped would be fixed soon.
All the information amassed, Jim handed out assignments. Bones was to scan the women. Uhura was to keep working through the interference. Scotty and Spock were to work on the crystal dilemma. Giotto would keep guards circulating so no chumminess occurred and to keep a sharp eye for escape attempts. Kirk would start preparing for Mudd's impromptu hearing.
Meeting adjourned, the officers dispersed to their specific duties.
When they rose, Spock turned to Uhura, as though he wished to speak, but she stalked from the room at a fast clip. He stood still looking forlornly after her, betrayed by a tightness in his jaw. Jim came to his First's side and clapped his shoulder.
"She'll simmer down. Don't worry about it."
Spock blinked again and stiffened. Two shouts in one hour. He was getting nakedly expressive.
"Vulcans do not worry; it is illogical."
He shrugged off Jim's hand and walked from the room. The captain sighed.
One step forward and two steps back. Luckily, James Tiberius Kirk enjoyed a challenge.
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