Chapter 2: Wake Up and Smell the Coffee
Sulu sighs a bit and slouches an inch or two in his seat. Next to him Chekov shifts with a nervous energy. These last three months just weren't the same without the optimistic personality of Captain Kirk to keep them on task. He had never had such a terrible time on the Enterprise. He loves the ship to death no questions about it, she practically purrs underneath his skilled hands but it just wasn't the same without his commanding officer.
Captain Kirk beamed up a few hours ago. When his call was picked up by a nervous Lieutenant Uhura, everyone perked up until they remembered the accident three weeks ago. Sulu hopes the Captain will take the news of the Klingon attack in relative stride like he always does with anything. He doubts it but doesn't want a new commanding officer. It would be like the past three months of Kirk's absence only worse. Permanent.
Sulu is guilty and sick and worried and guilty, guilty, guilty as anyone else about the situation. He is said to be the best pilot of his class. Hikaru Sulu feels guilty for not being fast enough when maneuvering the ship. They must have been exaggerating.
Ensign Chekov shifts noticeably in his seat when Sulu releases a tired sigh. He is only seventeen and he's the best navigator of the fleet (and one of its best tacticians to boot) working on the best ship of the Fleet. But his genius doesn't clear the tense air of the bridge. He feels like he should have planned better. What use is a genius that could not protect his captain from murder?
Ensign Pavel A. Chekov. He is seventeen and one of the best of the best in Star Fleet. He's seen too much. He feels like he doesn't belong.
Nyota Uhura is a beautiful woman. Strong and smart. Clean cut and sharp and proud. Nyota Uhura choked up when she received the long awaited transmission from their Captain. She's the first person of their crew to greet him in forever. She needs to be optimistic, or lovingly sarcastic, or strong to welcome him back. She misses him, they all do. She can do this, she thinks to herself repeatedly.
The best communications officer in Star Fleet chokes for the first time in a long while. And she could not bring herself to say a word after she ended the communiqué. She just silently sits in the command chair, perched like a queen, posture regal with bags under her eyes and hair slightly askew and an even heavier heart. Nyota really hopes Kirk comes back to them with a grin on his dumb playboy face.
The turbo lift doors open and everyone on the bridge hold their breaths and turns. Captain Kirk slowly shuffle-steps off the lift with Commander Spock following closely like a sturdy sentinel. The Commander clears his throat and announces the long awaited words.
"Captain on the bridge." Every bridge officer immediately stands up and snaps into attention.
Jim stares at his crew stoically. They are a complete mess, haggard and scared. He is uneasy and self-conscious and feels out of place in this Vulcan body and that just makes everything worse. The bridge temperature is all wrong, it's too cold he thinks, and the silence is deafening and the guilt in everyone's eyes is too strong, too stiff. Jim feels uncomfortable but he has to be strong, For them, he thinks.
"At ease." Everyone falls back into their seats at his command. Uhura immediately vacates his spot and returns to hers and Spock moves smoothly away from his side to sit himself down in the station next to her. Jim slowly staggers towards his station; his movements are as jerky in the Vulcan body as when he first woke up in it.
He feels every little move they make, and it's unsettling. He is Vulcan now, and he can sense their eyes on his figure more potently than ever. He feels them as they eye his ears, much too pointed to be him, he's sure. They observe his eyebrows, to severe for his usually smiling features. They ponder his skin tone. The green tinge looks healthy and lovely on Spock, but must look sickly on the Captain, he knows.
The only comforting thing would have been his azure eyes, but they are too cold, no doubt. They stare until they notice he is uncomfortable and then respectfully cast their eyes back on their work.
It's the beginning of alpha shift and Jim wants it to end.
Jim gazes at the star field directly outside of the ship. Yeoman Rand is waiting patiently next to him while he signs off on repair forms from engineering and medical. He knows that he should be paying attention to the PADD in his hand but he just can't keep focus. Jim sighs and forces himself to look back down at the report and quickly signs it off. He hands the finished PADD to Rand and she nods her head in approval.
Rand hands him the next one and he reaches towards her to accept it. She lets go only when she feels he's got a firm grip on it. Pulling the PADD towards himself, Jim's eyes scan as quickly as human eyes can go through the report, much slower than a Vulcan. That's right, he's still human. He's not as efficient as Spock. Approving of the information in the report and the conformation in his mind, he places the stylus on to the touch sensitive glass to sign.
The crack could be heard clearly by everyone on the bridge.
Jim stares blankly at the cracked and crackling surface of the PADD and his crew stares at him. Jim's hands tighten minutely on the stylus.
"Ah," he begins, "it looks like I still haven't gotten the hang of super strength," he says wryly to lighten the mood on the bridge. He clenches his hand a bit more.
"I'm sorry, Yeoman, did you happen to get another copy?"
"Yes, Sir, I have all reports saved in triplicate," she replies smartly.
"Well, let's see it," he tries to reply while keeping the hysterics deep inside himself. She respectfully hands him the requested copy and he quickly signs off on it.
"Thank you, Sir. By your leave, Captain."
Jim nods, "Dismissed, Yeoman."
Rand gathers all PADDs including the broken one into her slim arms and marches off the bridge. Jim sits in his chair and breathes in deeply.
"Spock, you have the Conn for the rest of the shift," mutters Jim as he stands up and heads towards the turbo lift. Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he steps in and the automated doors slid shut. He still feels the hard stares of Spock burrowing into his back.
"Deck five, officers' quarters," he commands the lift's computer.
Jim opens his hands and stares down at the stylus he forgot to return to Rand. He raises an eyebrow and scrunches his face at the same time, precise Vulcan muscle control allowing him that almost impossible facial contortion.
Cleanly down the middle, the stylus is snapped in two.
"Damn," he mutters quietly to himself.
The human swear tastes bitter on his Vulcan tongue.
Alright Guys: If anyone has any difficulties in mind that you think Jim needs to address then drop me a line in a review. I am open to new ideas. =)