OH MY GOD this chapter is so long and hated me so much. Remember how I said that I write the movie that is in my head? It was like somebody keyed up this little section of the DVD. Ugh.
A little note on stuff in this story: In generally if it makes sense to do so I try to used "real" (aka canon) people/things. There is so much canon stuff on Starfleet, for example, that I try to used people that actually existed (well, "existed") when Kirk was Captain. In general if a phaser does something, it can do that in the canon. If I say the crew quarters are on deck X, they actually are in that class of ship as far as I can tell OR its never told where it is so I have to make it up. On the flip side, most random alien characters are my doing, because there were so few recurring aliens in TOS and of those, none of them were on starships, etc etc.
Anyway, here it is (all sixteen and a half pages). Thanks for your patience.
Thank you to MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Yana5, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Pheonixfire979, Jord-El, foxy-comic-death, Chimcha, Suzume Chiyu, Fitful Fantasy, my renji-kuhn, signofthetimes, wmonica (hahaha!), Teldra (I pictured that too! Heehee), WOAH (rofl at your name), Liongirl11, xKayla xKatastrophe, naruke3176, Secret Thought and SnowKissYuki for their reviews!
Hikaru and underneaththesheets: You're welcome. Hopefully the inspiration will catch me again soon so I can keep y'all happy. (hope the rest of the wee was better uts!) :P
lovefan81: It's a reference to Organic Chemistry (I just finished a course in it) because I'm that cool. There's another ship named after an orgo reaction in this chapter too… -_-*
RowanWolf and LuckyStar27: What a great compliment from both of you, thank you (and yes RW, it did used to be T, ask Hikaru why it just had to change).
Also, as a general reply: Yes, Valik sucks (I hate him too, but he is fun to write), and Vulcan children are adorable…just you wait! Thanks again, I love you guys!
"Whatever Cat, give us the chapter" you say? Okay. Here it is. ;)
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Stardate 2258.121. At the request of the Federation, the Enterprise is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the Enterprise is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. An encounter with Reman rebels leaves Jim and Spock the only ones on board, until they pick up some Andorian refugees who convince them to go investigate and aid another crippled ship in the area, the Grignard. There they pick up some new Vulcan passengers, and are left drifting in space awaiting are rendezvous with Starfleet.
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Jim was not sure what had awoken him so early – or was it still late – in the completely silent room. There wasn't a sound except the soft puffs of Spock breathing, so quietly that were his ears not inches from the Vulcan's mouth he would not have heard it at all. He was lying with his face tucked into the crook of Spock's neck, his own breath ghosting across the green exposed skin. His hand was splayed across the other's stomach, where he could feel the humming vibration of that rapidly beating heart.
For a few moments he closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but he soon realized it was not going to happen. Sighing silently, he moved deliberately slowly and quietly off the Vulcan so as not to wake him. Once he had slid slowly to his feet, which took him several minutes at that pace, he glanced at the clock.
2:34 AM
Jim groaned, wondering what time he and Spock must have passed out at for him to wake up so early. He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to wake himself up fully. It was significantly hotter on the side that had been against the Vulcan's warm chest. Jim grinned as he pulled on some fresh pants and a clean shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair quickly in an attempt to look less ravished than he was sure he did. Then, sending a final fond glance at the sleeping Vulcan, he departed.
He had a vague thought that he ought to get to the bridge, but he had not taken more than four steps in that direction before his stomach gave an almighty grumble and Jim realized with a jolt that he had not eaten since the past morning. He adjusted his course to first take him past the mess hall.
His first indication that his breakfast might not go as he had expected was the sight of Tavol, the V'tosh ka'tur, lying on a camp bed in the hallway by the dining room. He appeared to be sleeping. The doors to the mess hall were open. Silently, Jim crept up to them and peered inside.
A very peculiar sight met his eyes. The many tables on the room had been pushed to one side and the rest of the hall filled with similar cots to the one outside. On some of them lay the tiny forms of slumbering Vulcan children, but these were in the minority. Most of the brood was awake, sitting at in groups at tables or cross legged on the floor. Jim supposed that, like Spock, he simply did not need as much sleep. The eldest, who looked to Jim to be about eight, were the most solitary and some appeared to even be engaged in a form of meditation. It was the younger ones however, that drew Jim's eyes.
At the table closest to him sat a small group of children who Jim would have pegged at anywhere from two to four years old. They were all looking intently at what appeared to be a large ball of sticks. Had they been Human children, Jim was sure the thing would have been in their mouths and been a choking hazard. Instead, they were speaking in soft whispers in Vulcan, evidently calmly debating something. Finally the eldest looking of the group reached out and shifted one of the rods slightly. They all looked at it for a moment, and then the debate apparently began again.
"It is the kal-toh," a soft voice explained from beside him. Tavol had woken up and was now standing beside him, following his gaze. "It is a common Vulcan game where the objective is to complete an icosadodecahedra. It is used to develop mathematical and spatial reasoning in the young."
Jim didn't even know what an icosathingy was; let alone how to design one. "Couldn't they just play, I don't know, hopscotch?" Jim asked. Now that he thought about it, there were absolutely no noisy games going on in the room – the thirty-odd children in there were so silent that if Jim were not looking at them he would have not suspected their presence at all.
"I am afraid they would be likely to find such a pursuit illogical, and would therefore derive little fulfillment from the experience," the Vulcan actually looked somewhat regretful.
"It teaches….numbers, and stuff," Jim said slightly defensively, but his sentence trailed off. He had caught sight of a young boy, around three, who was sitting alone. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the room of impassive miniature Vulcans because his shoulders were hunched in unmistakable despair and his little face was flushed green. The children around him were sending him both wary and disapproving looks. His concern must have shown on his face because Tavol followed his gaze once more.
"Pa'tar," Tavol said, and there was definitely sadness in his voice now.
"What's wrong with him?" Jim asked, hushed.
"He was the last child I managed to recover from the ship before I was forced to seal the room off for safety's sake. I found him several days after the others, hiding with his dead mother in their family quarters. He was therefore exposed the longest and I am afraid to say that he has been severely affected," Tavol said. "Likely permanently."
"Affected?" Jim asked, but any explanation was made unnecessary as the little boy looked up and, seeing the looks he was receiving from the others, promptly bust into tears. The surrounding young Vulcans looked downright scandalized. One meditating, haughty-looking older girl cracked open an eye from a cot nearby and hissed a silencing admonition at the child, who then gave himself over to silent sobs.
Tavol simply waved his hand at the situation helplessly. Jim's heart wrenched and he made a snap decision. Silently, he walked through the doors of the hall, heading for the replicator. Immediately all motion stopped as the young Vulcans turned to look at him. Then, as one, they all stood to recognize him. He felt somewhat awkward as he turned to face the room again, a warm bowl of oatmeal in hand, to find thirty preschool-age children standing at attention facing him. It was a bit alarming.
Shaking off his heebie-jeebies, Jim took a few quick steps over to Pa'tar, who had stood like the others. His little face had tear tracks on it as he looked up at Jim, fear traced subtly into the set of his mouth and eyes.
"Master Pa'tar," Jim nodded down at the young boy. He spoke softly out of respect to the children still slumbering on the cots around them, trying to be as charming as possible. "I require an assistant to help me organize the bridge. Would I be correct in assuming you would be willing to help me?"
The child's eyes widened slightly and he stared for a few moments. Finally, in a very small voice, he whispered, "One of my older peers would be a more logical choice, Captain."
It took Jim a moment to get over the strangeness of being spoken to that way by a three-year-old. Then he gestured around vaguely and replied, "Your colleagues appear to be occupied with other pursuits, and I do not wish to disrupt them. I presume I am not interrupting you?"
Pa'tar shook his head, "No, Captain."
"Wonderful, would you consent to help me with my duties then?" Jim asked, as officially as he could so the clever child would not think he was being belittled. The boy simply nodded and Jim extended an arm to pick him up. "Than you very much," he said."
Pa'tar permitted himself to be lifted up and carried from the room. Tavol was looking at him with that strange appraising look he had given him earlier the other day. Uncomfortable feeling scrutinized, Jim quickly bid the man farewell and he and his new assistant headed for the bridge.
Fifteen minutes later found Jim in the Captain's chair, having relieved a tired but pleased looking Sahran. The Captain was picking bits of ground beef out of his oatmeal with difficulty as the baby Vulcan sat on the wide arm of his chair holding a datapad. The child, as Jim had expected, had already proven to be exceptionally clever and Jim had given him the task of sorting out the varieties and quantities of supplies they would need to care for their guests for the next few days and then locating which of the ships cargo bays each item was stored in.
The Andorians that remained on the bridge were watching these proceedings with a mixture of amusement and perplexity. Jim supposed they made an odd pair; the lounging Starfleet Captain in his bright yellow uniform juxtaposed with the small, upright figure of the preoccupied Vulcan in his little black buttoned robe. Not that he much cared, since he had accomplished his goal – all trace of misery had gone from that little face and Pa'tar looked controlled and calm, as Jim knew Vulcans preferred to be.
It was this in position that Spock found them when he entered the bridge at a quarter to five that morning, looking as perfectly put together as usual. Nobody would ever look at him and suspect he had not woken up in his own bed this morning. If he was surprised to find a small child sharing the Captain's chair with Jim, he did not show it.
"Good morning to you Captain," he greeted, nodding his head respectfully. "And you, Assistant Pa'tar."
The little Vulcan looked up, trying valiantly to hide his surprise and just managing it. Jim was not so successful at stopping himself from rolling his eyes – that Spock, never missed a beat. "This is First Officer Commander Spock, Pa'tar," Jim said dryly.
"Hello Mr. Spock," the young child said, his cheeks slightly greened with the effort of keeping his voice emotionless. Jim saw, out of the corner of his eye, the female Andorian who was covering the communication's desk smiling affectionately at the Vulcan child. Jim gave Spock an amused look, to which Spock merely quirked an eyebrow.
He had barely returned to his finally beef-free breakfast when several things happened all at once. The Andorian sitting in Chekov's chair turned and said urgently, "Captain –" but he was drowned out by the loud burst of static that issued from the communicator in Jim's pocket. The Captain had barely closed his fingers around it when Bones' voice crackled through.
"Jim!…the Remans…attack...coming now, hurry!" it exclaimed brokenly, and by the time that Jim had got the thing out of his pocket all that he could hear was static.
"Bones!" he yelled into the device, but there was no reply.
"Two Romulan ships approaching port side at warp nine, sir!" the Andorian finished. "Arrival in 40 seconds."
"Shit!" Jim said loudly, and then he clapped his hands first to his mouth and then Pa'tar's pointy little ears. He seized the child, still clutching the datapad, and thrust him into the nearest Andorian's arms. "Take him down to the mess hall, then get those kids into the medical bay and seal it off – it's in the middle of the ship so if we're attacked they should be safe."
The Andorian did as he was requested, leaving Jim and Spock with the five other crew members on the bridge. "Go to red alert! Spock?!" Jim demanded, urgently and desperately as the sirens around them began to blare. The Vulcan knew immediately what he was asking.
"We do not have enough crew to both maneuver and attack, Captain," Spock replied.
"Well we can't out fly them," Jim said, staring out at the still-empty space around them. "Shields to maximum then, and arm all weapons."
The doors of the bridge opened and Sahran skidded in, his antennae spinning wildly. Jim turned to him, ordering, "Get all your available men to engineering and the weapons array."
The Andorian nodded and slid back out of the room, followed by a few of the remaining bridge officers. Now the only manned stations were the ones normally belonging to Sulu, Checkov and Uhura. "Spock, bring us out of warp, disengage thrusters and divert all transport and auxiliary power to shields," he said tensely, his eyes still fixed on the screen.
A moment later, as Spock was saying, "Yes, Captain" and the Enterprise was dropping from warp, he got the shock of his life as the whole screen was suddenly filled with an angry blue face.
"Captain Kirk," the Reman snarled. "You have violated our agreement by acquiring additional crew members. It was a mistake we will not forgive. Goodbye."
The screen went black again, and that was that. There was no room for discussion or interpretation as the next second the hull was buffeted by what felt like a phaser canon. Two ships, one of which Jim recognized as the one that had previously attacked them, loomed on the view screen after a few seconds. Jim threw himself into the Captain's chair again to avoid being shaken off his feet as Spock reported, "Shields are at 97% Captain, though it is unlikely we can maintain this power supply for long, at which point a decrease in strength is inevitable."
"If the power starts to drop start diverting life support from the lower decks – there's nobody down there anyway," Jim said edgily as they were hit by phaser blasts that made the panel lights flicker. "Signal the Grignard!"
A moment later, Valik's face appeared on the view screen. He looked distinctly untroubled. "Yes, Captain Kirk?"
"Care to help us out here Valik?" Jim bellowed over a noisy explosion and the blaring sirens.
Valik's eyes widened and his face took on a somber, regretful expression, but his antennae dancing merrily atop his head. "I'm sorry, but our ship is simply too damaged."
A now-familiar rage rose in Jim. "You could give us some cover, until we sort out our weapons array!"
"Sorry Jim," Valik replied indolently. "It's just not possible."
"You smarmy bastard!" Jim roared. "Do you not even give a rat's ass about your own crew members on board here!? Fuck you and your Andorian loyalty then!"
He slammed his hand down on the communication pad, ending the transmission. "Jim!" Spock exclaimed.
"Don't start to lecture me Spo-"
But Spock had jabbed his hand at Jim's communicator, which had been knocked to the floor. Jim went to grab it and heard a faint voice that only Spock's sensitive hearing had picked up over the screaming sirens. It was Bones.
"Jim!" the doctor was saying, over and over. Jim lunged for it, tripping halfway and only just catching himself on the edge of Spock's pilot chair. He wrenched the communicator off the floor and brought it to his mouth.
"Bones!" he bellowed over the wailing red alerts.
"Jim! We're on board the Malonic! Get us out of here!" Bones' voice crackled urgently.
"What? I'm a little busy being attaced Bones!" Jim yelled, but Spock's fingers were already tapping rapidly on the consol in front of him.
"Captain, according to my scans the ship attacking us is the Romulan Warbird Malonic," the Vulcan informed him. Jim's mouth fell open and he simply stared at Spock and the Andorian in the seat beside him until another rocket blast hit the ship, sending alarm bells dinging from most of the consols in the room.
"Shit," Jim swore again. "Dammit! We can't even destroy the gaddamn ship until I go get them then! Are they in transporter range?"
"They are," Spock confirmed. "However, the energy needed to reactivate the transporter room and the life support on the decks leading to it from the bridge will severely deplete the energy reinforcing our shields."
Jim raked his hands through his hair. "I'm taking the escape pod," he decided. "You're in charge until we get back."
Spock turned in his chair and said seriously, "Captain, I would suggest you take some of Mr. Sahran's men with you and exercise extreme caution."
Which was Spock's way of saying don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed.
"Good idea" Jim agreed. It'll be fine, don't worry. "I'm going to need you to cover me, um…"
Jim' trailed off awkwardly, realizing he did not know the name of the Andorian sitting in Chekov's chair. "Farzol," the alien supplied, and then saluted.
"Great, see you soon," Jim said, and then he dashed out of the bridge.
Fifteen minutes later found Jim gliding their only escape pod out of the docking bay, two Andorians in the seats behind him. As they flew into open space, Jim was forced to dodge the energy bombs and phaser beams that were crisscrossing between the ships. Inwardly thanking his Starfleet flying instructors, Jim ducked and swerved his way between the vessels, making for an open port on the side. As he flew in, he saw that most of the pod bays were filled with the Enterprise's own shuttles. Perfect.
Wordlessly, the two Andorians - whose names Jim had found out were Tazam and Latal - and Jim disembarked the escape pod and slunk into the hallway of the alien ship. It was a stark contrast to what Jim was used to. The Enterprise was a sleek, bright ship, but the Malonic was darkly lit and undecorated. The effect was quite ominous.
They crept along the hall until they reached the nearest com pad. Jim had a large bag of phaser pistols in a sack over his back, like some type of twisted Santa Claus, making it hard for him to be stealthy. Once he reached it, Jim punched away at the screen until he found a map of the ship and began to scan it frantically. He had only just managed to locate the brig when there was a whooshing noise, pazow, behind him and one of the Andorians – Tazam, he thought – was blasted off his feet and crumpled to the wall of the corridor, dead.
Jim whipped around and unleashed a torrent of phaser blasts at their aggressors. The two Reman security guards dropped like flies under the combined onslaught of Jim and Latal's weapons. Once they had fallen, Jim turned to go, saying, "Come on, the brig is this way."
He trailed off. Latal had stooped and was hoisting Tazam's body onto his shoulders. "What are you doing?" Jim asked incredulously.
"I apologize Captain, but I must bring his body back to the shuttle before I can continue, in case we do not have time during our retreat," the Andorian said seriously.
"We don't have time now," he said in exasperation, but he understood all the same. Jim guessed they must have been friends, and Jim knew he would feel the same way about Bones, or Spock. Spock, who would really not like what Jim was about to do. The Andorian looked torn for a moment until Jim said, "Fine, I'll head down there now and you meet me as soon as you can. It's on Deck 3."
They gave each other brief friendly nods before each taking off in a different direction. Jim dashed down the halls, pausing only momentarily at each corner to peer around it before he pelted pell-mell to the next one. As he ran through a third corridor he heard voices coming around the corner. Without really planning it, he crashed through the first door he reached and realized, to his immense relief, that it was a staircase. He flew down the flights taking three and four steps at a time until he reached Deck 3.
He stopped, his hand on the door to the corridor, to take a few steadying gasps of air. As quietly as possible he pulled open the door and slipped through it, slinking into the next corridor. He tiptoed to the corner, ducked around it and had to stifle a gasp.
He had turned into a huge room that was really just a widening of the hallway. Not more than ten feet from him sat an angry-looking Reman at an imposingly huge desk that mostly spanned the hallway. Behind that angry Reman, filling the hallway, were eight foot high cages crammed with people. In the cage right behind the guard was Bones, whose jaw dropped open at the sight of Jim.
Jim ducked behind the corner again, breathing hard. Carefully, silently, he slid just half his face around the edge of the wall with his phaser hand. The Reman guard appeared to be dozing, which was why he hadn't noticed Jim in the first place. Jim shot and his aim was true. After a single shot the guard slumped in his chair and Bones hissed, "Jim!"
"Bones!" Jim said, slightly cockily, after he had scanned the area for more guards. He grinned as he walked over and pulled the keys off of the desk. He began flipping through them as he reached the door of the cage that the good doctor was in, along with what looked like most of the medical staff. "Where are the rest of the guards?" he asked.
"There aren't any," a distinctly Scottish voice answered from one cage over. It was Scotty, surrounded by most of the engineering crew. "There can't be more than a hundred and fifty Remans on this whole ship."
"What?" Jim asked, incredulous. "Then how did they manage to take you all prisoner?"
"Drugged us in our welcome meal," Bones said bitterly as Jim finally found the right key. "I should have noticed."
"Yup, you should have" Jim agreed, in higher spirits than he knew was really appropriate for a dangerous away mission. It was great to see his crew again. Behind the emptying cage he now saw there was a cell door through which he saw Uhura's haughty face. Out of pure habit, he winked. She scowled. He grinned even wider. He tossed Bones the sack of pistols, saying sardonically, "Merry Christmas Bonesy."
As soon as the doctor and some of his group were armed, Jim reluctantly let him go head up to the escape pods, knowing there was simply not enough room in the corridor for the whole crew to stand around twiddling their thumbs. Regardless of what the crew said, he found it very odd that no other security forces had come to check on them. He didn't fancy presenting the ease that the Remans would have in killing his crew if they encountered all 430 of them standing around.
"Just don't go calling our communicators," Bones warned him as he ushered the nurses away. "The Remans took them all."
"Got it. Get Spock to reinstate life support when you get back!" Jim called after the retreating doctor. Bones waved his hand over his head in acknowledgement as he turned the corner, and Jim felt a pang of apprehension to see his friend disappear again. He turned his attention to Uhura's cell, which seemed to contain most of the bridge crew. He felt extremely fond of them all as he managed to open the door and they filed past him, Chekov's grin mirroring his own. He unwillingly sent them away as well with instructions to get the ship going before he got back.
He continued uninterrupted until the only people left to free were the engineering crew. He set himself to freeing Scotty, who he noticed for the first time was still wearing his nightshirt with the Starfleet badge pinned to it that he had been wearing when Jim last saw him seven days ago. The Scot was extremely curious as to who was running the weapons and engineering aboard the Enterprise with Jim over here. At the mention of Sahran and his Andorian crew, Scotty paled. By the time Jim got the Chief Engineer freed he looked positively fretful to get back to his ship.
"Lord knows what they've done to it," he was muttering. Jim flashed him a grin as he handed some of the senior officers the last remaining phaser pistols.
"Promise me you'll play nicely Scotty. We own that Andorian a lot," he said as he scanned the cells and cages for any remaining crew members. Satisfied that they were all clear, Jim turned to the Scot and motioned for him and his crew to follow as he headed for the corner. "Come on Scotty, I want to get back to my ship."
They had hardly rounded the corner when a black-clad security force came bursting out of the staircase to the upper floors. Jim threw himself against the wall as Scotty and the engineers behind him immediately returned fire. Jim groped for his own phaser, which he had stupidly left clipped to the loop of his belt. There were shouts and groans as fighters on either side folded to the floor. Jim took aim and hit the leader of the Reman force in the shoulder, causing him to fall over backwards into the rest of them.
Under the force of the Enterprise's crew's arsenal the Remans were back up down the corridor. Jim ducked under the firing phasers and wrenched open the now accessible door to the stairs. He grabbed the sleeve of the nearest armed officer and all but threw him into the stairwell, barking, "Get to the escape pod!"
He had pulled a few of the unarmed crew through the door before the rest got the idea. Scotty and his men covered their exit as the Remans yelled into their communicators, "They're heading upstairs!"
"Go!" Jim urged. Only Scotty and his men were left. Jim bellowed at them all to get out, taking aim at the two aggressors remaining in the hallway. Scotty gave him a look that clearly said No effing way, but Jim replied, without taking his eyes off of the Remans, "Do it Scotty or I'll shoot you myself!"
He left, leaving Jim alone with the Remans. They battled for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Jim was exhausted from dodging and diving around the shots they fired at him. He pulled the stairwell door further open, sheltering behind it as he continued to attack. He managed to hit one dead in the chest and they fell across the body of another Reman, but the other one advanced on him, ducking the shots swiftly until he was nearly level with Jim in the hall. The Captain narrowly evaded the next shot, retreating up the stairs and ducking behind the solid banisters. His communicator crackled and he heard Spock's voice demand, "Captain, where are you? Mr. Scott has informed me that you sent him ahead and stayed to battle. Report please!"
"They're safe?" Jim hissed.
"They are on the shuttles. What is your status?"
"Sorry Spock," Jim began, about to explain how he came to be alone, but the plaster on the wall above him exploded as it was hit by an energy beam and his sentence was cut off. Jim chanced a look over the top of the low railing.
Pain seared through him, his nerves set on fire as he was blasted backwards and into the already-crumbling wall. He screamed in agony as blazing energy shot through his fingers and toes, making them feel as if they were cooking from within. He heart skipped unevenly and he had to force himself to breathe as the wall above him showered him in dust and bits of plaster and metal. He heard Spock exclaim in alarm, "Jim!"
The Reman advanced and picked up Jim's pistol, which had fallen from his hand. He stood not two feet from the Captain and Jim suddenly recognized him as the Reman Captain. There was relish in his face as he leered down at Jim and flipped the phaser dial from kill to stun and back.
"It's hard to decide," the alien said, sounding distinctly relaxed. "Whether you are more useful to me as a hostage or dead."
"How about neither?" came a furious voice from over the other Captain's shoulder, and then there was a burst of light and the Reman fell, his face vaguely surprised, to reveal Bones. Jim grinned lopsidedly, his heart still skipping dangerously.
"Bonesy," he attempted a drawl.
"Dammit Jim, why do you insist on being the most grievously injured after every mission?" Bones demanded as he hoisted the Captain up, slinging Jim's arm over his shoulder.
"Captain!" Jim's communicator demanded again. Bones reached over and grabbed it, flipping it open.
"I've got the idiot Spock," he growled. "He should be ok."
"Should I?" Jim said vaguely as he was hauled up the stairs by his Chief Medical Officer.
"Come on Jim, I'm a doctor not an escalator," Bones growled as they neared the top of the stairs.
"What are you doing here Bones? I sent you back," Jim realized dimly.
"Never got to go," Bones said, panting slightly under Jim's weight. "We were attacked, they knew we were trying to evacuate. It was that Andorian that saved us, he just came bursting out of the escape pods and distracted them long enough for most of the unarmed crew to get aboard and then we held them off. Took every gun we had to bring them down, and then Scotty told me some had come down there to get you."
Jim blanched, but the news seemed to restore some of his urgency and purpose. He thought about the dead crew members on Deck 3. "How many more did we lose?"
Bones simply sent him a grim look. Against all odds they made it to the floor with the escape pods on it. Some of the feeling had started to return to Jim's extremities and now his heart was beating more regularly, if not extremely quickly.
They dashed through the hall as quickly as the Captain could manage. Soon they reached the scene of the standoff outside the escape shuttles. Jim's heart fell to see the dozens of bodies that littered the floor, both Starfleet and Reman. He was just clambering toward the last remaining shuttle – the Grignard's - when his eye caught on one of the blue men that lay immobile on the hallway floor. The colour of the alien's skin was slightly off. Jim stopped beside him, and turned him over.
It was Latal, as he had known it was. He stooped to hoist the body over his shoulder. The Andorian deserved as much, if what Bones said was true. The doctor was standing in the door of the pod, yelling, "Hurry up Jim! They could be back any second."
Sure enough, Bones had hardly closed the door to the shuttle when the light of phaser beams once again flashed through the hallway. Jim laid Latal down beside his fellow before shouting at his friend, "Get us out of here Bones!"
The doctor proved to be an excellent pilot, for all his talk about hating flying. Only his extremely white knuckles betrayed his feelings as he steered them through the firefight now raging full-scale between the two ships and brought them into the Enterprise receiving bay. There was a brief scuffle as they disembarked and Bones tried to force Jim to go to the medical bay, with which he was (expectedly) dramatically unsuccessful, and then they were both barreling to the bridge.
"Shields at twenty three percent!" he heard a distinctly Russian voice exclaim as they both burst though the door. Chekov had resumed hi post, Sulu beside him. Only one Andorian remained, manning Spock's station as the Vulcan was standing in front of the Captain's chair, staring intently at the ships attacking them. He turned, hands clasped tightly behind his back, at the sound of Jim and Bones' arrival.
Jim sent him a very genuine if not weary grin, jumping the steps don to him and clapping him on the shoulder. "Told you I'd be back, Mr. Spock."
"Captain," Spock was stern, but Jim could see his relief in the subtle release of tension in his brow and the shining of his dark eyes. "You should be in the medical bay."
He sent Bones a reproachful look. The doctor held up his hands in defense and protested, "I tried."
An explosion rocked the ship. "Shields at nineteen percent!' Chekov said urgently.
"Damage to decks four, five, seven, and ten Captain," Sulu added.
"Evasive maneuvers Sulu," Jim said, trying not to look to eager to sit down as he took his chair. Spock remained beside him, his eyes back on the Reman ships. "Reroute as much power to the shields as you can."
Another blast shook the ship, buffeting Jim's aching body in his seat.
"Shields at sewenteen percent!" Chekov intoned, and then there was a blaze of light in the window in front of them. Out of nothingness two large Federation ships dropped out of warp, their guns blazing, and bore down on the Reman vessels.
"Sir, transmission from the Federation ships," Uhura said, and an unfamiliar voice came over the communication system.
"This is Commodore Robert Wesley, captain of the USS Lexington. Please confirm you have rescued your crew from the enemy vessels so that we can neutralize them with all necessary force," the other captain said.
"We have," Jim replied, yelling slightly to be heard over the persistent red alert sirens. When this was over he was going to go around and smash every single one.
"Well done," Wesley said. "I would suggest you get away from the fight, your shields are dangerously low."
"Yes sir," Jim said, tacking on the honorific seeing as the other man did rank above him. Bones' eyebrows shot into his hair and he seemed to be reconsidering how hard Jim had hit his head smashing into that wall.
The rest of the battle took all of three minutes, as when the Remans realized they were suddenly far out-gunned – the Grignard chose that moment to finally contribute to the attack – they turned tail and warped away. The Federation ships did not follow. Instead, they turned back toward the crippled Starship, pulling up alongside it on either side. Uhura reported they were receiving another transmission, and this time a friendly looking face flickered onto the video screen.
The Commodore had an honest, care-worn face and black hair that was just starting to be peppered with grey. He surveyed the entire bridge crew before speaking. "Captain Kirk," he said, sounding very pleased. "Good to see most of your crew back safely – nice work."
Jim couldn't help but think that it was his fault that the crew had been gone in the first place, but he did not say it out loud. Instead, he inclined his head and said, "Thank you. You have really good timing."
There were some scattered chuckles from the bridge crew and Wesley gave and appreciative smile. "I see you've picked up some new crew as well," his eyes lingered on the Andorian. Jim turned to look at him and was relieved to see he recognized the alien. He struggled for a brief moment to remember his name.
"Yeah. This is Farzol, he's one of about ten Andorians who are staying with us. Plus three Vulcans," Jim said. "I'm issuing them all field commissions."
"Very good," Wesley agreed. "Admiral Pike has told us that you can't go past warp four, so we're supposed to go hunt down those Reman ships and deal with them. We'll stay here until you can get your ship repaired enough to get your shields back up."
"Great," Jim said. "Thanks."
"Anytime, Captain," Wesley said in a friendly way and then he flickered off screen.
"We need to contact Admiral Pike and tell him what's happened," Jim sighed, rising from his chair with difficulty. As he got to his feet he felt lightheaded and stumbled. At once, both Bones and Spock reached out and grabbed one of his arms.
"Jim – " they both began, then they both stopped – Spock because he didn't want to interrupt the doctor, and Bones because he was staring incredulously at Spock.
"Captain," Spock continued after it became evident Bones was not going to be able to finish his sentence. "I would recommend that you have the doctor look you over. I can report to Admiral Pike."
Jim shook his head. "No, I'd rather just go change and wash my face – I'll be fine."
He took another few shaky steps, but neither of the other men was fooled. "Captain," Spock began again.
"Fine Spock, you can escort me back to my quarters if you are so worried," Jim said exasperatedly. That actually sounded like a good idea. "Bones can report back to the Admiral – he knows the story better than both of us actually."
Bones looked ready to protest, so Jim turned and walked away as quickly as he could towards the doors. He had nearly made it out when Bones called, "I'll be coming to examine you in your room if you don't get your ass to medical later tonight."
Jim waved a consenting hand over his head and kept waling, Spock in tow. They didn't talk until they reached Jim's quarters – Jim was pretty sure that talking would immediately lead to something they didn't want to do in the crowded corridors.
He wasn't surprised, therefore, when he felt Spock's hand thread into his as soon as the doors had shut. He sighed, leaning his back against the wall of the room tiredly. He used their joined hands to pull Spock up against him and rested his forehead on the slightly taller man's shoulder, breathing deeply.
"That was close Spock," Jim said. The Vulcan knew what he was talking about.
"You did not do as I requested," Spock said. "You should not have attempted to combat the Reman forces alone – it was reckless."
"I'm reckless," Jim said, in a puff of laughter.
"Indeed," Spock said. He sounded thoroughly not amused. He turned his head slightly so his mouth brushed Jim's ear as he continued, "I would request you modify that particular aspect of your personality but I know that it is highly unlikely you would succeed in doing so."
"Hmm," Jim sighed, turning his face into Spock's neck and kissing it gently. A warm hand slid around his back and under his shirt. "Keep saying it like that and I might just manage it."
They stood there in silence for a few moments before Jim spoke.
"I'm going to tell Bones about us, if that's ok," Jim said softly. "He'll figure it out anyway eventually."
"I had expected as much," Spock replied calmly. "I hope you would not protest to me telling Lieutenant Uhura, should she attempt to renew her relationship with me?"
"Go ahead," Jim said wearily. "Right now I don't give a damn who knows. It took everything I had not to pounce you on the bridge."
Spock did not reply, so Jim looked up and saw the Vulcan looking down at him with his eyebrow cocked in amusement again. Jim smiled and, lacing his free hand into the other's dark hair, pulled their lips together. His senses flooded with the smell, taste and feel of the Vulcan as they kissed avidly. Spock had managed to contain his feelings on the bridge but now he poured out all his worry, his fear and his anger of the last few hours into the passion of the kiss, his strong grip pulling Jim off the wall so that their hips ground together.
Jim grinned against Spock's mouth, rubbing his fingertips over the Vulcan's intimately. He felt Spock try to pull away and held him in place with his hand, unwilling to stop the delicious sensation of their dueling tongues. He arched his body up against the Vulcan's, wanting to feel that hot chest against his own aching muscles. Spock's hand at his back slipped around his body and gently pushed them apart.
"You are not well enough for intimate physical interactions Jim," Spock said, though the corners of his mouth were smiling.
"Sex, its called sex Spock," Jim sighed, amused. Without support, he sunk back against the wall, somewhat negating his claim of, "And I'm always well enough for it."
"You are not," Spock said, reasonably. He freed his hands and placed them on both Jim's temples. Jim felt the familiar little bump and then the vague, drifting tendrils of Spock's emotions as he opened a pseudo meld. Jim could feel him appraising Jim's physical state intently.
He was amused to feel a little residual lust waft over to him, and he murmured, "Come on, you know you wanna."
Spock broke the connection and slid his hands backwards through Jim's hair, making Jim's knees turn to putty. The Vulcan's fingers worked across his scalp, kneading and gently pulling his hair so precisely that it was as if he knew exactly where the pain was – which, Jim reflected, was entirely possible. Stupid manipulative Vulcan.
Next thing he knew, he was being lifted onto the couch and laid down gently. Jim grinned sleepily – he liked this couch a lot. Spock looked down at him and said, disappointingly, "I must return to the bridge. I request that you get some rest."
"Fine," Jim yawned and reached out to quickly brush his fingers against the Vulcan's hand that was closest to him. He shut his eyes and was asleep before Spock had even left the room.
A few hours later found him sitting shirtless and very cheerfully on one of the sick bay beds, Bones running a tricorder over him. "I still can't believe you came," the doctor was saying. "You normally avoid this place like the plague."
"Yeah well," Jim said with a lazy smile. "I thought you might like the practice before you have to examine the whole crew."
Bones looked up at him in horror. "Before I do what, Jim?"
"Oh come on Bones," Jim said as if it was obvious. "You guys have been in a Reman prison for seven days. Surely you want to check that everybody's okay?"
"You are a sadistic twisted man," he said. "And theoretically I shouldn't have to check you or Spock, though Spock told me he was exposed to trellium-D of all things, and you of course managed to be here anyway. How did you get these bruises anyway? You've got them all over you. They from Spock?"
"Which ones?" Jim asked. Bones indicated the ones on his abdomen. Jim grinned wickedly. "Yup, those are from Spock."
"Hm, he must have done a number on you with that trellium-D for them still to show seven days later," the doctor mused.
"Oh, this wasn't because of the trellium," Jim egged Bones on with his mischievous grin, daring him to ask.
"Oh…kay," Bones said slowly, warily. He decided to take the bait. "How did you get them then?"
"Do you want the G-rated version, or the adults-only edition?" Jim asked, leaning back on his hands to fully enjoy the effect this sentence was sure to have. He was not disappointed.
"What?" Bones choked. Jim merely looked at him innocently. Bones made several pinching motions on his forehead as if he was trying to pull what Jim had just said out of his memory through his face. Apparently unsuccessful, he said, "Am I about to find out why Spock kept calling you Jim all day?"
"Did he?" Jim had been too tired to notice. He smiled at the thought, and Bones' look of horror increased.
"Oh god dammit Jim, I'm too old for this shit," Bones sank onto the bed across from him.
"I'm not," Jim said cheerfully.
"Clearly," the doctor eyed him with the slightly shocked-but-intrigued look of somebody driving past a massive car crash. He gulped. "Alright, alright, tell me the story. But keep it G-rated, for the love of god. I need to sleep tonight."
Jim grinned, repositioned himself so that he was sprawled more comfortably on the bed and began his story.