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Chapter Nine: This is Where I Belong
Half an hour after his meeting with Marcus, Jim pushed the door open and stepped into a local café, the bell chiming somewhere in the shop just above the din of the voices. He scanned the tabled and found Scotty and Charlie occupying two plush chairs in the corner, both chatting over their teacups while they waited for him to arrive. Threading around the cramped coffee shop, he maneuvered his way over to the pair attempting to draw as little attention as possible.
"Hey," Charlie greeted as she glanced up from her cup. "How'd it go?" she asked, setting the cup down and leaning forward in anticipation. Charlie was surprised by her the level of her patience waiting for the captain, but Scotty knew the best ways to distract her .
"Fine," Jim answered, his shifting around at the different patrons. "C'mon Charlie," he gestured. "We need to head back to the apartment. Mr. Scott, report to the Enterprise as soon as you are able. We'll be heading out in a few hours."
"Aye, Captain," Scotty nodded as Jim pulled Charlie up, guiding her through the throngs of people toward the door.
"Jim!" she exclaimed, ripping her arm out of his hand the minute they were outside. "What the hell?!"
"Sorry," he apologized, his hand moving to her lower back and guided her away from the café back towards his flat. "But what I have to tell you can't be heard by just anyone. I'm breaking a lot of rules just telling you now."
Charlie peeked uncertainly in his direction, weaving around those on the streets. "What is it?" she said, her steps matching his hurried rhythm. "What's going on?"
"Wait," Jim ordered. Once they were out of the crowds and on the unoccupied sidewalk leading to the residences he finally explained the situation. "We confirmed Harrison's in the Ketha province on Qo'nos; it's uninhabited so he has that going for him."
"What do you mean?"
"According to relevant sources, Harrison belonged to a secret organization called Section 31, headed by Marcus."
"Section 31?" Charlie paused, confused. "I've never heard of that."
"Well no you wouldn't. I've never even heard of it."
The firm pressure on her back restarted Charlie's trek back to the apartment as Jim kept glancing around them. "That's not what I meant," she mumbled. "Never mind, what did they do? Covert ops, technology advancement, what?"
"Marcus said they were using Harrison to develop advanced weaponry for defensive purposes, but he went rogue for some reason."
"How advanced are we talking?" She stopped again, turning to face Jim in the lobby of the apartment building. What Jim was telling her didn't sound like the Starfleet she knew and loved. "You don't think Sagan brought someone from the future back with him, do you?"
"I don't think so, no," Jim assured, hitting the button for the lift. "What he developed was a long range, untraceable photon torpedo. It's advanced, but nothing like we'd expect from someone who'd have that much knowledge."
She pulled her lip between her teeth, her brow furrowed as she listened to him. Once the door opened, Charlie followed Jim onto the lift, leaning against the rail as she tried to wrap her brain around the thought of a Starfleet secret organization. "I don't like this. I don't like how it sounds. Why would Starfleet need defensive weapons, and why do it so secretly?"
"Marcus is under the impression that the Klingons or the Romulans are itching for a fight. After what Sagan tried to do, and the fallout with Nero, he may have a point."
"Still," she argued, lost in thought as she walked down the hallway crewing on her thumbnail. She nodded her thanks as Jim held the apartment door open for her before she paced toward the brightly lit bedroom. "It's like the whole nuclear deterrent idea of my century. Like seriously, has Marcus learned nothing of history? Oh yes, let's build everything up and show how big we are, because that won't stop anyone from pushing our buttons," she added sarcastically. "And you know, now that I'm thinking about it, Marcus was really interested in defensive strategies from my family."
"What do you mean?" Jim asked. He reached into the closet to remove his bag, changing into his travel uniform before hastily shoving clothes and toiletries in the bag.
"It was something that he said," she confessed, sitting on the bed cross-legged. "He kept making references to military battles my family was in, and how I was more adept at fighting a war because I was used to it. Things like that."
"But you didn't, your parents and siblings did."
"That's what I told him."
Jim paused, his hands going onto his hips as his stare went out the window towards the towers where they were just beginning the repairs. "Why would he ask that of you?"
"I don't know," she confessed with a sigh. "I've been trying to figure it out. Pike was too."
"We're going to get the bastard, Charlie," Jim assured. His eyes were hardened steel, and while his shoulders had been bowed and weak that morning, they were now squared and strong like a bow. "I promise. I've been given the Enterprise back, and we've been authorized to test out a few of those torpedoes on Harrison. He won't know what'll hit him."
Charlie disentangled her body, sitting forward on the bed as Jim finished grabbing his communicator and Starfleet pin. This was it; her one chance. "Take me with you," she appealed, rising her feet, her eyes never leaving him.
"What?" His eyes snapped to hers in surprise. Charlie balked by the intensity she found on them, but she knew there was no turning back now.
"You heard me. Take me with you, don't leave me here."
Jim lingered, his head dipping as he sighed. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"You're not Starfleet," he pointed out.
"So? You know I'm smart enough to be. After all, it was my battle plan we used against the Klingons."
"Your intelligence was never in question Charlie, but I can't allow you onboard," his hands were flexing and he was bouncing on his toes. "The review board could see it as an act of aggression, and that could stop you from coming back permanently."
"Fuck the review board," she snapped, scrambling around him to block his path as he headed towards the door. "Pike became a father to me, just as he was to you. I know how much this is killing you, because I know what it's doing to me. Let me come with you, even if it's just for the support. You look like hell."
"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically. "Charlie I can't, I'm sorry." He tried to skirt around her, tugging on the jacket of his travel uniform as he did so.
"Then make me an acting ensign, and bring me on that way," she reasoned, sidestepping in front of him again.
"What are you talking about?"
With a quick breath to settle her nerves, she confessed, "I was already planning on joining Starfleet after I was released and I wanted to talk to you about it, but then other things came up. Pike was going to sponsor my application, actually." She gazed up through her lashes, tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth. "Please, make me an acting ensign for this mission; you have the power to do so."
"Charlie—"
"I will not give up," she vowed. Her eyes narrowed and she placed her hands on her hips. "You can't leave me behind. Not like this. Not again. I will not be the obedient little woman who waits behind while you go off to battle. Not when I know I could help. That's not who I am, and that's not how this relationship works. You know where I come from and what I'm capable of. You know my family. I can do this. Please, Jim."
Jim stared hard into Charlie's unwavering gaze. She stood resolute, unflinching and stanch and it was the first time in a very long time that he saw a purpose behind her stance. "If I say you can come, will you move so that we don't miss the shuttle to the Enterprise. As Captain, that wouldn't look good for either of us."
Charlie blinked, not moving a muscle. Once she realized that Jim was serious, she split into a wide, toothy grin, jumping to wrap her arms around Jim's neck and pulling her lips to his. "Thank you," she grinned, feeling lighter than air for the first time in forty-eight hours. "I promise I won't let you down, Captain."
"I know you won't, Ensign Noland," he said, her grin infectious. "Now let's go. We need to get you a uniform before we head up to the Enterprise."
"Aye, aye, Sir," she smiled.
The hangar bay was bustling with activity, the normal operations of the day-to-day traffic buzzing around Jim like a beehive. He hurried toward the shuttle that would take him back to his ship, and from there to seek justice against the man who killed the only father figure Kirk had known. He had dropped Charlie off earlier at the quartermaster with specific orders to outfit her as an ensign and to have her join him on the shuttle as soon as possible. His thoughts were two steps ahead as he walked, already on the tasks he needed to accomplish back on the bridge when a familiar voice called out his name.
"Jim! Where were you?"
The captain glanced over his shoulder and saw his CMO hurrying to catch up. "For what?" Jim asked as McCoy fell into step beside him, the doctor more agitated than his normal state.
"Your medical exam," the doctor explained as if it was the most obvious thing. "Ten hours ago you were in a damn firefight. Now it's my duty as ship's doctor—"
"I'm fine, Bones," Jim interrupted.
"The hell you are," McCoy growled, grabbing the captain's arm and preventing him from entering the shuttle. "I'm sure you're just as fine as Charlie was after Sagan."
Kirk paused, his thoughts going back to the weeks following Charlie's return to him. "I'm fine," he reassured, spinning on his heel and leaping up the steps into the shuttle.
McCoy stood there a moment, growling to himself and his knuckleheaded captain when Charlie appeared next to him, adjusting her new uniform and pulling wisps of hair back into her low ponytail, unaware of his presence.
"Charlie! What are you doing here?"
Glancing up startled, Charlie grinned and said," It's Acting Ensign Noland right now, Doctor."
"Acting ensign?"
"That's right," she reaffirmed, jogging up the steps of the shuttle with McCoy right behind her. She could barely contain her excitement, knowing that she would have a direct impact on avenging Pike filled her with purpose. "I want justice for what that man did to Pike, McCoy; just like Jim. The only way I could get that was to be a part of Starfleet for this mission. So here I am."
Inside, they heard Spock addressing the captain who had already taken his seat and was reviewing the specs of their mission on his PADD. "— should be ready for launch by the time we arrive."
Interrupting the Vulcan, McCoy stopped next to the captain and barked, "Jim, you let her join?" He pointed back to Charlie who was standing behind him, having been shoved out of the way by the CMO in his mad dash to confront Kirk.
"She really gave me no choice," Kirk grumbled.
"Miss Noland, you are now a member of Starfleet?" Spock asked, his head tilting to the side in his confusion.
"Yes, Sir," Charlie said, subconsciously standing at attention. "Acting ensign, Commander. Brought on to assist this mission."
Spock's brow rose in surprise as Charlie and McCoy took their seats behind the Captain and the Vulcan.
"Do you believe this wise, Captain?" Spock asked, taking his seat. "Ensign Noland has had no formal training at the Academy."
"I've had training with Admiral Pike," Charlie explained, sitting forward. "Before—"
"She's fine," Jim interrupted, no argument to be brokered in his voice as McCoy began running his tricorder over his head. "Her skills and qualifications are perfectly adequate for this mission."
Nodding, Spock continued, "I would like to thank you for requesting my reinstatement, Captain."
"You're welcome."
"As I am again your First Officer, it is now my duty to strongly object to our mission parameters."
"Of course it is," Kirk groaned.
"Commander, that man killed several members of Starfleet's highest command and then fled like some coward to the Klingons," Charlie pointed out. "He's getting off easy in my opinion."
"There is no Starfleet regulation that condemns a man to die without a trial," Spock argued, glancing back at Charlie. "Something you, Captain Kirk, and Admiral Marcus are forgetting. Also, preemptively firing torpedoes at the Klingon home world goes against every—"
"You yourself said the area's uninhabited," Kirk interjected. "There's only going to be on casualty. And in case you weren't listening our orders have nothing to do with Starfleet regulation."
"Wait a minute. We're firing torpedoes at the Klingons?" McCoy sputtered.
"You didn't know?" Charlie glanced at the doctor is surprise. She had thought that Jim informed him of the mission parameters; something she and Spock were already briefed on.
"No! Is he cotton-picking mad?" McCoy growled as the argument between Spock and Kirk escalated.
Charlie scoffed, waving her hand in the air dismissively, "Harrison is in an uninhabited area of Qo'nos and our torpedoes are untraceable." She paused, her gaze flickering to the floor as her fingers wrapped around each other in her lap. "That man killed Pike, Doctor. It's the least he deserves."
"I don't think firing torpedoes at him would constitute an easy way out," McCoy growled, glancing back as the device in his hand as it started beeping loudly. "Whoa, Jim, calm down."
"I'm not going to take ethics lessons from a robot!" Kirk snapped.
"Reverting to name-calling suggests that you are defensive and therefore find my opinion valid," Spock reasoned.
"I wasn't asking for your opinion. Bones, get that thing off my face." McCoy rolled his eyes as he dropped his hand and the sensor in it.
"Captain, our mission could start a war with the Klingons and it is, by its very definition, immoral."
"What about the actions the Klingons have done, Commander?" Charlie glared at the stubborn Vulcan head. "What about the actions of Harrison?"
"Is there not a human proverb that two wrong actions do not make a right?"
"No, but like my grandmother always said three lefts do," she remarked before she could think.
Spock spun in his head, his full, penetrating gaze directed onto Charlie, the barest hint of annoyance in their dark depths. "That kind of remark will not be tolerated, Ensign. I am your commanding officer and will expect a certain level of respect."
Pursing her lips and the heat rising in her cheeks she muttered, "Apologies, Commander."
"Perhaps you both should take the requisite time to arrive at the conclusion for yourself." Spock sat forward, and pulled down the front of his jacket to smooth it out, looking straight ahead in finality.
Charlie shook her head and rolled her eyes as she turned to stare out the window. Spock just couldn't understand what it felt like for Jim and her to experience the loss they had.
As she sat there fuming, a soft lilting English accent spoke hesitantly, "Captain Kirk." Charlie and Jim snapped their attention up, taking stock of the petite blonde smiling at Jim. "Science Officer Wallace," she continued. "I've been assigned to the Enterprise by Admiral Marcus. These are my transfer orders." She handed the transfer PADD to Jim, who scanned the information on Wallace.
Something about the woman set the hair on Charlie's head to rise. She couldn't place why she appeared familiar to her, having never set eyes on her until that day. Maybe it was Dr. Wallace's perfect smile, or the way she continued to stare at Jim with something other than the respect of a commanding officer, but Charlie didn't like the woman. It was an innate, instinctual dislike that surprised her with the vehemence of it. The name Carol sent the largest of warning flags to flash for Charlie, but her fuddled, grieving brain couldn't place why.
"You requested an additional science officer, Captain?" Spock inquired, his brows drawn in confusion and bringing Charlie back to the present.
"I wish I had," Kirk snidely replied. "'Lieutenant Carol Wallace. Doctorate in applied physics specializing in . . . advanced weaponry."
"Impressive credentials," Spock approved.
"Thank you."
"But redundant now that I am back aboard the Enterprise," he added.
"And yet the more the merrier. Have a seat, Doctor."
Charlie barely repressed a snarl as the woman took a satisfying seat in-between Spock and Kirk.
The rumbling under her feet signaled the shuttle was beginning to take off, the lights of the hangar bay changing that reflected through the windows. Leaning over towards McCoy who was busy inputting the details he gathered on Jim, Charlie mumbled, "I have a bad feeling about this."
"You and me both, Spitfire," he agreed.
Charlie continued to grumble to herself as the shuttle flew toward the Enterprise, but the minute the magnificent ship came into view of her window, much of Charlie's ire dissipated. She had of course missed Jim and the crew, but she didn't realize how much she missed the ship until her gaze captured the white hull and long nacelles. It was her home, and from the minute she stepped onto her transporter pad Charlie was hooked. She smiled softly as the lights from space dock played off its shining hull.
Soon they were docked, everyone onboard the shuttle releasing their safety belts and rising from their seats. Kirk was one of the first out the door; McCoy standing aside so Charlie could scramble to his side.
"In a rush, Sir?" she teased.
"Just want to get to the bridge," he responded.
"I'm not going to lie, I didn't expect to return the Enterprise like this," she noted, glancing around at the activity on the ship as they hurried through the cargo bay.
Jim sighed next to her, his knuckles white clutching his PADD. "Neither did I. I wish it could have been different."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "The important thing is I am here, Jim," she consoled. "And I will do everything I can to help you."
Although he didn't turn to address her, his steps increasing in speed when the group heard Scotty shouting in the distance, he did smile and sent a wink towards her.
Coming around the corner, Charlie saw Scotty and an official from Starfleet deliveries having a somewhat heated discussion around a long tubular device. Charlie assumed it was one of the specialty torpedoes they were going to use against Harrison, and from the argument shouted by the Scotsman she appeared to be right.
"No I'm not signing anythin'," Scotty growled. "Now get these bloody things off my ship! Captain!"
"Is there a problem, Mr. Scott?" Kirk asked, the others coming to stand around the pair except for Carol Marcus who began surveying the missile furtively. Charlie narrowed her eyes at the woman, trying to ignore the grumbling doctor next to her.
"Aye, Sir," Scotty said, scowling at the captain. "I was just explaining to this gentleman that I cannae authorize any weapons on board this ship without knowing what's inside them."
"Mr. Scott raises yet another point—"
"Report to the bridge," Kirk interrupted Spock, handing him his PADD.
Spock frowned at the man before doing as ordered. "Captain."
Turning back to his Chief of Engineering, Jim said, "Mr. Scott, I understand your concerns, but we need these torpedoes on board."
"Due respect, sir, but photon torpedoes run on fuel," Scotty explained. "Now I cannae detect the type of fuel that's in the compartments on these torpedoes because it's shielded. Now I asked for the specifications, but he said . . ."
"It's classified," the official answered when Scotty pointed back at him.
"It's classified! So I said, 'No specs, no signature!'"
Smirking, Charlie leaned over to McCoy and whispered, "I guess some things never change."
"Bureaucratic nonsense? Yep, we still got it," McCoy answered, his brows furrowed while continued to scan the readings on his PADD.
"Now if you'll excuse me, sir, I have a warp core to prime," Scotty said, turning his back on the others and stomping down a side hallway. "Get down!" he yelled at Keesner on his way by another torpedo.
"Jim, your vitals are way off," McCoy muttered, gaining the attention of the frustrated Captain.
"Report them to medbay. Charlie, go with him," Kirk ordered. "Scotty!" he yelled, chasing after the redshirted Scotsman.
McCoy sighed, his shoulder's dropping as he shook his head. "Guess you're with me, Spitfire. C'mon. Let's get you a normal uniform."
Charlie stared after Jim and Scotty, her lip between her teeth and her brow drawn in confusion. She had never seen Scotty act as he had, especially towards Jim. While they were all taking the death of Admiral Pike hard, the last thing anyone needed was to direct their ire towards each other.
"Spitfire!" McCoy called when he noticed Charlie hadn't followed. "Ensign!" he shouted, finally catching her attention. "C'mon." She nodded and hurried over to the surly doctor, following him into the turbolift and up to the medbay.
"You okay?" McCoy asked as the silence in the lift lengthened.
"What?" Charlie asked, her gaze flickering to his. "Yea, sorry," she muttered shuffling her feet and clasping her hands in front of her. "Just lost in my head for a bit. I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing. Jim ran off before he could tell me."
The doors of the turbolift opened, admitting the pair to the bustling medical center. Nurses were rushing about, setting storage cabinets, preparing emergency kits while the doctors under McCoy saw the minor injuries already coming in as everyone worked to ready the ship for launch.
"Well for now, I'll get you a red uniform, since we aren't sure where you're going to be. . ." McCoy paused when Charlie came to a sudden stop, her eyes wide as saucers. "What?" he asked.
"Can I please wear another color?"
"What, why?" he barked, his hands moving to his hips.
"I have my reasons," she answered, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"Which are? Spitfire, you better be telling me what's going through that head of yours."
"I can't—"
"Now, Ensign," he ordered.
Charlie pursed her lips and stood at attention, her palms lying flat against her thighs. "Haven't you noticed that whenever an away team beams down, or there's a catastrophe on the ship, the red shirts are always the first to die?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you ever noticed it before?"
"That's the—"
"Maybe it's a silly superstition," Charlie agreed, ignoring his interjection. "But until I am assigned a red uniform by the captain, I would like to request another color."
McCoy stared Charlie down, as if he tried to decide whether she was playing a joke. The sincerity in her gaze, however, indicated that she was serious. When she gave no sign she would back down, he shook his head, mumbling under his breath. "Alright, fine. Yellow then, you superstitious woman. Will that make you happy?"
Charlie relaxed, bouncing over to McCoy and her arms moving to behind her back. "Thanks, Doc. I owe you one."
"Aren't we up to four now?" McCoy pointed out as he guided her into his office and headed over to the replicator.
"Well I'd rather owe it you, than cheat you out of it," she smirked, her smile widening when McCoy rolled his eyes.
"Here, Spitfire," he said, tossing the dress to Charlie. "Get changed. I'll meet you out in the medbay."
She had just tugged the dress into place, annoyed by the shortness of the ensemble when a ping for a ship wide announcement rang. Charlie paused, and turned toward the screen behind McCoy's chair. Jim's face came onto the display, looking more haggard than when they had parted a half hour before.
"Attention, crew of the Enterprise," he said. "As most of you know, Christopher Pike, former captain of this ship and our friend, is dead. The man who killed him has fled our system and his hiding on the Klingon homeworld, somewhere he believes we are unwilling to go. We are on our way there now. Per Admiral Marcus, it is essential that our presence go undetected. Tensions between the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been high, as we have already experienced. Any provocation could lead to an all-out war."
He paused, and Charlie watched as a decision clicked in his head, turning toward something behind him. Her held tiled to the side as she walked closer to the screen. "I will personally lead a landing party to an abandoned city on the surface of Qo'nos where we will capture the fugitive, John Harrison, and return him to Earth so he can face judgment for his actions. Alright, let's go get this son of a bitch. Kirk out."
"God dammit," she swore.
Review please! Let me know how you think it's progressing. It is going to follow STID, but it will have my own scenes added in. Thanks for reading!