Chapter 9- Lost in Translation
I stopped by Jim's quarters to get McCoy for an early dinner, but Jim answered the door looking a little disheveled and gave me a devilish grin. "I'm sorry, Collins, but Bones can't come out and play right now." He gave a small laugh and added. "It is his nappy time." He gestured to McCoy's prone form sprawled out on the floor as though he had just fallen in a heap where he stood.
"I see." I said slowly while looking at Jim suspiciously. He seemed perfectly fine not more than 30 minutes ago…
Jim took another look at his friend and chuckled. "Heh! I finally got ya', didn't I you sneaky bastard?" McCoy didn't even twitch. He turned back to me and explained, "He got a taste of his own medicine."
A smile slowly spread across my face as the implication set in. "You gave him a hypo shot? How did you manage that?"
He seemed rather pleased with himself. "Went down to sickbay and had one of the interns load one with a sedative. I told them he wasn't sleeping like he was supposed to and I wanted to help. I waited until he was in the bathroom and jumped him from behind. There isn't much room in there you know, so he had nowhere to go. Fought like a champ, though." He gave a complimentary nod to the unconscious doctor. "I had to stab him twice. He bucks like a bull that got shocked in the nuts."
I knelt by McCoy and gently turned is head toward me. At the base of his neck just behind his clavicle, a nasty purplish blue bruise was forming. "Where else did you stab him?" I asked laughing. He was going to absolutely go nuclear when he woke up. "Do you wanna see?" Jim asked raising his eyebrows.
"Maybe not." I admitted. I didn't like the innuendo in his voice.
"Somewhere around here." He answered demonstrating by drawing a circle in the area between the lower hip and groin area. I winced, that had to hurt like nothing else. "He wouldn't hold still!" He protested. "It wasn't like I aimed it there. Anyway, I consider it payback." He folded his arms and looked down at me while I straightened McCoy's tangled limbs and rolled him onto his back so he could be somewhat comfortable. "I wasn't lying, though. He hasn't slept much so I wanted him to get a few solid hours at least."
I looked him in the eye when I stood and noted the dark circles under them. He had to forego sleep himself to make sure he woke McCoy on schedule and he seemed incredibly weary and worried. I gave him a small pat on the shoulder before I removed a pillow and a blanket from his bed. "I am sure it was for the best." I consoled.
"He won't think so." Jim smirked while I covered McCoy with the blanket. "But I asked for something kinda light because he doesn't know it, but he is going down to the Starbase with me, Uhura, and Chekov for some ceremonial thing the Klingons have invited us to tonight."
I carefully lifted his head and placed the pillow under it. "That sounds like a lot of fun. I bet he will love that."
"Yeah, who doesn't love a good old fashioned Klingon shindig where you have to pretend to love swamp leaches and blood wine." He huffed. "I would just as soon give them the finger and get the hell on with shore leave, but we have to put on a good face with all the diplomacy bullshit. Which gives me an idea: why don't you tag along?"
I repositioned the blanket to cover his shoulders and suspiciously asked, "Why?"
"To experience new cultural practices. You will have to do a lot of that as the official ship's counselor. And because you are good at keeping the peace if you know what I mean." He smiled.
I let my hand rest on McCoy's chest and felt it rise and fall with each breath. "You mean keep him from wanting to kill you." I corrected in a sad tone. "You know there will be hell to pay when he wakes up and you want me to try to spin this into a good thing so he won't be mad at you."
"Well, if that's the way you want to see it I won't object." He replied hopefully.
I sat on the floor next to McCoy in defeat. "When do we leave?"
McCoy slept peacefully, never once moving except for the darting of his eyes under the lids when he went into a REM cycle and dreamed of whatever surgeons with residual head trauma dream of. Thankfully, he woke on his own with an hour to spare before departure. Getting Jim off the hook for ambushing him was easier than I thought it would be; breaking the news about the Klingon festivities was harder than I thought it would be. True to his stages there was anger, much cursing, outright refusal and finally acquiescence. The amazing thing was that these all took place within a 10 minute time frame.
The cycle almost started again when I informed him I was also going, but I staved it off with Jim's logic that this was going to be part of my job anyway and the more experience I had going into officer's training the better off I would be. He couldn't argue with the reasoning, but he sure as hell didn't have to like it he reminded me on the way to the shuttle to meet the others.
Chekov nearly danced in place he was so excited to have been chosen to go. He certainly didn't have a fascination for Klingons, but it was kind of a big deal to be involved in a delegation to a non-Federation culture and for that he was grateful. Uhura quietly coached Jim on a phrase in Klingon that he was going to use and although it was a serious matter, he couldn't seem to take it seriously because McCoy kept glaring at him and she quickly became frustrated and washed her hands of the whole matter. McCoy and Jim sat next to each other on the shuttle and as they buckled up, Jim quipped, "Just like the ride to the Academy, 'eh Bones?"
McCoy triple checked his restraints and growled, "This time I will throw up on you. All it would take is a little jostle to my already scrambled brain and you will be wearing my lunch. Or if that doesn't do it the light refreshments of our hosts will. Either way, I will get you. Mark my words."
Jim looked away and mumbled, "Can't wait."
Once we landed, we were escorted into a large, dark chamber lit with torches. Throughout, a red tricyclic symbol was emblazoned and I took it to be the indication of their civilization. It reminded me of a medieval version of the Roman coliseum and we were the bait for the lions. Jim, Uhura, and McCoy stood nearest what looked like the Supreme Court bench filled with elderly Klingons who were covered in battle scars. Chekov and I stayed behind them and instinctually stood a little closer together than human custom for personal space would normally allow for.
We were greeted in the rough fashion I had come to expect by the apparent leader and bowed slightly when the others did in return. "Captain Kirk of the United Federation of Planets, you have returned our citizens to their rightful home and spared them a disgraceful death. For this honorable act we offer you a tea ceremony- shared among friends."
Uhura glanced at Jim while female Klingons served each of us a shot glass of a dark red liquid. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about the whole thing just seemed like drinking kool-aid at Jonestown. McCoy must have felt the same as he whispered, "I don't know about this, Jim."
We waited for the members of the court to obtain equal measures of the foul substance before we all raised our glasses and downed it. My eyes instantly watered and I fought the urge to bring it right back up because I knew it would reflect poorly on the others and it certainly wouldn't be any better the second time around. The liquid was kind of thick like cough syrup and it had a metallic taste that clung to my mouth and throat like a layer of paint. Chekov coughed politely, but he was struggling as well. The women came forward to collect our glasses and Uhura nudged Jim in the ribs.
He took a step forward and paused to clear his throat. "On behalf of the Federation and Starfleet, we accept your honor." He paused again to take a deep breath. "jIH 'oH muSHa'taH Daq lIj SoS." The language sounded strange from his lips and it was evident he struggled with the pronunciation.
Uhura shot him a horrified look and the elder Klingons reacted in anger. Chekov and I looked at each other in confusion. Whatever he said, it must not have come out right because before we knew it, we were being hauled off to a dungeon where we were thrown in cold, damp cells with rusted bars and old locks. I was placed with Uhura, Jim and Chekov shared a cell while McCoy was alone in his. When the door to the room slammed shut with a resounding ring, Uhura looked across the room at Jim through the bars. "Great going Captain!" she hissed. "If you would have listened to me back on the ship you might have got it right, but noooo you had to blow it off." I didn't recall ever seeing her angry like that.
Jim wrapped his hands around the grimy bars and replied in a casual tone, "I might have mispronounced a few syllables, but c'mon! It is a damn confusing language."
She stopped to raise her beautifully shaped eyebrow. "A few syllables? You were supposed to tell them that you were honored to have assisted the Klingon Empire. You told the Council you made love to their mothers!"
"Oh, real fucking smooth, Jim." McCoy groaned from next door. "Why didn't you just call them tribbles so they could execute us on the spot?" Chekov slid down the wall of his cell and hung his head.
"Can he just apologize?" I asked hopefully. "Surely they must know that he doesn't speak the language and the insult was accidental."
Uhura shook her head and her silky hair spilled over her shoulder. "Klingons see apologies as weak. The only honorable way out is a challenge. I could try to smooth this over if they will give me an audience, but I doubt they will."
Jim paced his cell for a few minutes until he seemed to notice Pavel still sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chin. "Not what you expected, 'eh kid?"
Pavel glanced up at him and his blue eyes were a little out of focus. "People make mistakes, Captain. I understand, I do not always get English vords right either."
"That's an understatement." McCoy scoffed.
Jim squatted by him and scrutinized him closely. "You feeling ok, kid? You look a little pale."
Pavel swallowed and answered, "I vill be fine, Sir. I just feel a little sick."
"Me too." I admitted. "Whatever that drink was, it was nasty."
"Fucking blood wine." Jim mused. "Humans normally don't drink it with Klingons, only on special occasions and for good reason."
Uhura picked up on my questioning expression and she explained, "It is like whiskey only stronger and for ceremonies they add blood." I scrunched up my nose and suddenly felt thoroughly contaminated. She looked down and added, "For a tea ceremony they also put in a mild poison."
There was a pause by everyone at her words. Finally McCoy exploded. "What?!" he yelled. "What kind of goddamn poison?"
"It varies by location, so I don't know." She admitted. He heaved a heavy sigh and suddenly everyone felt just a little sick.
