McCoy knew that Christine had every right to take a break or least join the rest of the crew on the bridge. She had expressed an interest in knowing what exactly they had been up against and why they had lost so badly to one Romulan vessel. Maybe it wouldn't change the odds but it could shed some light on their very dark situation.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in his power to decide. Acting Captain Spock had requested McCoy—only McCoy- to come to the bridge and discuss options with the rest of the crew. With an apologetic look, McCoy left the sick bay, leaving the rest of the work to Christine.

Her frustrations were deep but she knew, quite useless. Christine clearly wasn't a tactical or communications office but heaven help her if she wanted to know what they were talking about on the bridge!

And at least the pin-pod had remained tucked securely into her headband all this time, though she had nearly forgotten about it in the sudden rush of work on the sick bay. She turned it back on and listened in while helping other medics clean up. Christine had gathered an armful of blood-stained bandages but almost dropped them when she heard Jim's voice buzzing in her ear.

"Since we have no idea what's motivating Nero and his crew, we have no way of predicting for certain where or how he'll strike next, other than a best-guess that he's headed for Earth," Jim concluded firmly.

"Out of the chair," came Spock's chastising voice.

The enemy's name is Nero? Why'd he spare the Enterprise?

Chekov had lifted the question from her thoughts and spoken it aloud. Sulu suggested that Nero had a bigger goal in mind that blasting another starship out of oblivion.

In his usual strategic manner Spock explained, "That's not it. He wanted me to see something: the destruction of my home world. If they are intending to head for Earth then their ambition on destroying this single starship is no longer high on their agenda."

Christine's hands were starting to shake. If Nero is heading for Earth then it could share the same fate as Vulcan, she thought fearfully.

McCoy brought up the next enormous question. "How the hell did they jump ahead so far in the arms race? And where'd they get a weapon like that?"

"Such technology could, in theory, be manipulated for a purpose other than destruction. It could hypothetically be manipulated to create a tunnel through space-time," Spock answered on beat. "Of course such conjecture is based on models that rely on current physical and mathematical knowledge."

You lost me there, Christine thought.

McCoy echoed her sentiments. "Damnit man, I'm a doctor not a physicist. Are you saying they're from the future?!"

"If you eliminate the impossible then whatever remains-however improbable-must be the truth," Spock concluded.

That's impossible, she insisted firmly. That's time travel-

Jim would say it would be wrong to deny it.

People used to scoff at theories that machines could fly in the air and computers could be made small enough to hold in the palm of one's hand. But the theories had held fast and brought amazing results. Science would always find a way to take the impossible and advance it to the possible, so long as there was time and dilgence to try theories over and over again until positive results came through.

If people of past centuries had learned to improve their methods of science then who was to say these Romulans hadn't passed through time as well? And if they were from the future then it validated the reason as to why their technology was so sophisticated.

But that meant if the Enterprise crew had futures then they were all altered if the Romulans had gone back in time to cause so much chaos. Christine suspected she couldn't fathom the sheer amount of impact that would have on history or even the smaller details of what their lives would be like from now on. All she knew is that those monsters had destroyed a planet, wrecked their ship, taken Captain Pike hostage, and—according to Spock—were heading towards Earth.

"What would an angry Romulan from the future want with Captain Pike?" Jim asked.

Sulu had a suggestion. "He knows much as any admiral about Starfleet defenses. If they are heading towards Earth then they'd need to extract information from him."

He had a good point, and one that gave Christine hope. It meant their adversaries, despite their fancy equipment, were still not unbeatable. And if the Enterprise crew could get Captain Pike back before he gave away any Starfleet secrets then the Romulans wouldn't be able to attack Earth or-

"We've got to get him back," Kirk insisted.

Christine waited for another strategy plan to start formulating. But much to her shock and dismay, Spock turned his fellow officer down. "He left us with orders that if he fails to return, we must rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. As you may have noticed, we are technologically outmatched and a rescue attempt would be illogical."

Yes, but we can't just leave him out there!

Kirk's tone echoed her sentiments. "What about loyalty to one's commanding officer?" he shot at Spock. "And you wanna be logical? Then do what Nero doesn't expect you to do and be Unpredictable. It's the last thing he'll expect from you."

"You're assuming Nero knows how events are predicting to unfold and by acting in an illogical manner we could somehow disrupt his intentions. It is clear that his purpose in making the time traverse is to change the past. Since entering this time plane his actions have been hostile toward the Federation and we may assume he shall continue to do so."

Spock went on. "Through his actions he has altered the course of history, beginning with the attack on the Kelvin 25 years ago and culminating in the events of today, therefore creating a new chain of events that cannot be anticipated by either party."

But what does that mean? Are you referring to a "wrinkle in time"?

"An alternate reality," Uhura murmured aloud.

"Precisely," Spoke said. "Our destinies, whatever they were, have changed."

All the talk of altering history was making Christine's head spin. All she knew is that she wanted Captain Pike back safe on the Enterprise and for them to all get home safely. There had been enough bloodshed for one voyage.

Spock had instructed Sulu to plot a course to the nearest Starfleet system when Kirk interrupted. "Commander, I disagree—"

"Captain," Spock corrected him (a little too-harshly in Christine's opinion). "Your opinion is duly noted, Mr. Kirk. But my order stands."

The sound of Jim's rising voicewas making Christine anxious. They shouldn't be quarreling with one another at a time like this. She had seen what the Romulans had done to their ship—who knew what they'd do to Pike?

"We don't have time for debating this! Every minute we spend getting close there, Nero's getting closer to his next target!" Kirk's voice rose up in a feverish pitch.

"I am instructing you to accept that I am responsible for making the decisions that govern the actions vessel," Spock said. His voice bordered on a cautioning message that if he was pushed too far then he might resort to unpleasant actions. "As of now you are relieved of your duties, Mr. Kirk. Security, escort him out."

Christine heard footsteps followed by a murmur of voices. And suddenly, there were grunts and punches being heard from the bridge. It sounded as if someone, or least some people, were trying to wrestle Jim into obedience and he was defying authority.

There was a scuffling sound, followed by a grunt of frustration. Jim's voice moaned in defeat before fading out. Christine's mouth became dry when she dreaded the worst for him.

Then Spock replied five words in a voice so cold and rigid that it chilled Christine down to her bones:

"Get him off this ship."

A-A-A

Mama's got the heat sensor on. Her skin is warm and soft and smells like cinnamon. I curl up on the sofa next to her and rub my nose against the fabric of her shirt. Mama starts humming that song we both know while her knitting needles click together.

I watch the needles flick back and forth as the wool winds around her fingers. She could easily buy clothes but she still likes the old-fashioned way of doing things with her hands.

Back and forth, back and forth, the needles click against each other like the ticking of the clock as I watch another row slowly added to the purple scarf she's knitting.

The wooden chimes whistle over the doorway when it opens up and someone walks in. I know by the voice that its Daddy and I go running to him. He grabs me in a hug and lifts me clear off my feet, into his arms. He smells like the old leather of his shuttle-craft. His beard scratches against my skin when I kiss him on the cheek but I don't care. That's my daddy.

I start telling him about the flowers that Mommy and I picked in the greenhouse and point proudly to a bouquet in a jug. He says how pretty they are and how nice it was to put them together.

Together we go into the next room for supper.

A-A-A

Mama and Daddy are coughing a lot. So am I.

If I move then my bones hurt. If I cough then my head hurts. The sheets feel hot against my sticky skin and the air I breath feels thick. I call to Mama but she doesn't come into my room. I ask for medicine but she says it won't help me. Daddy finally opens the door and I hear him wheeze like he's got mud in his throat.

"Chrissi, come here." He gathers me up in his arms and wraps me in thick wool blankets. I'm being carried down the hallway past Mommy and Daddy's room and taken outside. I start shivering 'cuz it's so cold against the wind but the air is clean and makes my head tingle from the chill. I bury myself inside the blankets to stay warm.

Daddy brings me to a man in a big brown coat coat who's sipping from a cup of something warm. He doesn't have a beard like Daddy but he has a deep voice.

"'Bout time, Dr. Chapel. We'd better get moving before nightfall," he says. He dumps the rest of his brown drink onto the snow and says something into Daddy's ear. I look at the man and then my father, not understand what's going on.

"This man is going to take you to the hospital," he explains. Daddy sets me down in the pod compartment of the man's speed-bike. I should be excited 'cuz I've always wanted to go on a speed-bike before. But I'm too tired to care.

"Aren't you and Mommy coming?" I ask.

"Soon, Chrissi. Soon," he assures me. "Will you be a good girl and wait for us?"

I nod to him while my teeth chatter noisily inside my mouth. Daddy leans over and kisses me on the forehead and I try to kiss him back, but I'm coughing so much. I feel his warm palm on my cheek. "I love you, sweetheart," Daddy murmurs. "My good girl, my dear Christine." He stands up and says something else to the man who is fitting a red helmet over my head. It muffles out whatever they're saying while warming my head and ears.

Before I know it the speed-bike has gone off and Daddy vanishes into the whitness of the snow. All I can hear is the motor humming and the wind breezing softly through my ears.

I don't know much but Daddy said I'll see him and Mama again. So I'm going to wait just like he said. The man driving the speed-bike asks me if I'm warm enough and I nod. I snuggle back into the blankets feeling like a little squirrel resting in her nest. The man says the hospital will take care of me and I'm going to be fine. The speed-bike jiggles one way and another, kind of like a rocking horse.

The snow becomes darker and the stars come out just before I fall asleep.

A-A-A

An unpleasant silence had settled over the Enterprise.

Christine sat in a corner of her room watching Saavik sleep. The child was breathing softly and had apparently forgone the fears that disrupted her waking moments; her face was composed and soothing. But Christine continued to twist her hands together and bite her lips fretfully. The last thing she had seen from the window was a tiny pod ejected from the Enterprise that went spiraling through space down towards a cold dismal planet that lay forgotten among the stars. That was the last she had seen of James Tiberius Kirk.

How could Spock allow it to happen?

Was this all about a petty test back at Starfleet Academy? Or was it some personal vendetta that Spock had against Kirk from years before? Christine didn't know and she didn't care. The acting captain had just dropped Jim Kirk off the ship like flecking an unwanted fly out of a house.

She couldn't help but feel anger, frustration, and empathy for Spock all at once. He had insisted that he wasn't emotionally compromised but no one, no matter how logical they could be, could function properly after watching an entire planet get nuked in the blink of an eye. She suspected Spock had taken some of his aggravation out on Jim.

Wearily, Christine rose to her feet and returned to the sick bay. She began going from patient to patient to make certain they were stable and their vital signs were constant. But her voice was monotone and there were no tender words of affection or hand squeezes to assure them satisfactory recoveries. The most she could muster was a brief nod before moving on to the next patient. The other medics exchanged concerned looks, surprised at the sudden change in her bedside manner.

Christine was refolding towels when Spock entered the sick bay. "Where's Dr. McCoy?" he demanded.

"He's rechecking our signals sir," she responded feebly.

Spock's gaze did not move from Christine and she secretly hoped he wasn't aware that she had been "spying" on the bridge. "Your voice does not suggest approval at my actions," he said at last.

"You are the captain. You do what you must," Christine said reluctantly. Then she added, "Even if someone despises you for it."

Spock did not exactly frown. But he was close to showing disapproval. Noticing that he had not yet stepped away, she decided to give him one last chance.

"Please," she begged, taking a step closer to Spock. "Won't you reconsider your sentence on Jim Kirk? I know from experience that he's a troublemaker but he's not selfish or dangerous."

"He is a threat to everyone on board this ship," came the crisp reply.

"A threat to everyone or to your own pride?" Christine insisted. She continued to address the acting captain.

"You were entrusted to command this ship and what good would it do to take another Starfleet officer off duty? Jim Kirk risked his life to disable the drill. We'd all be dead if he and Sulu hadn't intervened."

"I acknowledge Mr. Kirk's success in his mission but we must compensate our losses," Spock answered her a little too quickly. "And you must keep your unstable senses in check, Nurse Chapel. Weakened moral is an illogical waste of precious time and is a common fallacy among officers. "

The comment hit Christine squarely in the chest. His logic and unwavering sense of right could cut through her sudden outbursts of emotio. Within seconds she could feel the hot tears start to sting in the back of her eyes but she blinked them back quickly.

The rest of the medical staff had stopped what they were doing long enough to observe. The sight of the tall nurse almost standing eye to eye with the dark-haired imposing Vulcan was impressive, if not daring.

"Mr. Spock," Christine said.

"Captain," he corrected her.

"Captain," she repeated as she prepared to address him again. "I am aware of the imperfections of the human race. You said I was weak and emotional and you may be right. But I don't regret my moral decisions for a moment. It's a better alternative than caring about nothing at all."

Her words hung heavily in the air. Christine had probably gone too far off the deep end but it felt right to say it.

Spock eyed her with disdain. Any disregard he had for Jim Kirk was now focused on Christine Chapel, who continued to look him in the face.

"Are we suddenly discussing ethics, Nurse Chapel?" Spock demanded. "Because your debate is a flawed one that I would correct immediately if our schedule was not so constricted. I order you to cease this futile action and return to your duties."

She expected him to say more but he did not. Spock turned around to exit the sick bay but was caught off guard when Christine suddenly reached out and yanked as hard as she could on his sleeve. Protocal be dammed, she would speak her mind this time!

"You must get Jim Kirk back or he'll die out there!" she shouted. "Haven't we lost enough lives already? How can you have mutiny on your conscience?"

For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of light in his eye, his features soften slightly...the pause suggesting the impact of her words. But it vanished quickly and was replaced with an emotionless facade.

"Do not threaten me, Nurse Chapel. You're not in a position to tell me what to do."

"I know. But I can make you think about what you're doing. If Jim Kirk is found dead then the responsibility will be on your head," she warned him. "He saved my life once and I owe everything to him. Who will watch your back if you reject everyone who disagrees with you? You'll still be a commander but you'll be all alone."

Spock took two long steps towards Christine so quickly that she was backed up against the wall.

"You speak as someone with experience, Nurse Chapel," he answered in a steely tone. "Especially with a lack of stability in your life, no wonder you are emotionally compromised."

Christine was too stunned to speak. But her body was suddenly brimming with white-hot fury and she reacted instinctively. Without thinking twice, her hand whipped through the air and she slapped Spock as hard as she could across his face.

WHACK!

Her palm made a sharp cracking sound when it hit his cheek. The other nurses and a few recovering patients watched with frozen shock. Christine's hand vibrated from the blow when she pulled her arm back. Her lips trembled in horror when she realized the brutality of her action.

Spock did not even touch his face to feel for pain. He blinked twice as if to clarify his visual perception was still in working order. But still no reply, no empathy. She almost wish he would've hit her back. Instead, Spock's frosty voice continued.

"The penalty for striking a superior officer is a severe one, Nurse Chapel. If we were not so short on hands then I would send you to confinement. In the meantime you will remain at your post until we meet up with Starfleet and then you will be dismissed from the Enterprise."

"Yes captain," she answered weakly. Christine could feel her voice already breaking in defeat.

"Have Dr. McCoy come to the bridge when you see him," Spock added before exiting the sickbay.

She was beyond capable of handling anything else right now. Christine collapsed onto a bench and buried her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her face in defeat and shame and she let them flow down her cheeks, let all of the shock and grief course through her veins.

Had she really lost her senses? What kind of professional nurse lashes out at her captain and then hits him across the face? Maybe she was emotionally compromised as Spock has said. But no, she had to be empathetic to help other people. Her sentiments were her strengths, not her weaknesses.

What would Dr. McCoy say if he knew what she had done? Maybe Spock was right-maybe they all flawed in their significant ways. But no, she couldn't accept that. If they continued to fight and bicker among themselves it would only give that psychopath called Nero another victory.

If only Captain Pike and Jim Kirk were here, her thoughts congealed as she chocked out a faint sob of despair.

Christine's eyes were swollen from crying but at least the frustration was gone, leaving her shaken and reflective. She continued to weep silently in her own corner until she heard footsteps and saw someone had approached her.

It was one of the Vulcans, but not T'Pau. He was elderly, his hair gray with time and his face deepened with crinkles and creases that hinted at great experience and a dignified countenance. And yet there was something serene and sad in his face—a duality of wisdom and loss that could not be expressed in words. He looked like the sort of parental figure she would gladly have confided in on a less morbid occasion.

He had probably just seen her strike the captain too. At least he deserved an apology after her offensive action against one of his own kin.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," she apologized.

"I believe you did." His voice was calm but not accusatory at her. He took a seat on the bench facing Christine. "I have noticed that the release of emotions is healthy to humans just as the control of them is healthy to Vulcans."

"Healthy." Christine hadn't even considered that. No doubt Vulcans had to keep themselves in check for certain reasons but she still couldn't draw a connection between this newcomer and the acting captain. She still felt compelled to express herself.

"I don't think or feel-" she lingered for a moment before choosing the right words to say. "I don't believe Spock is acting like a proper Starfleet captain or using his natural behavior."

"No," the elderly Vulcan male said with a slight shake of his head. "It is not in his nature. Pride has prevented him from accessing his emotions and understanding them."

A new thought dawned on Christine. "Is he an...an'kharh?" she attempted to wrap her tongue around the alien word.

The Vulcan nodded to acknowledge her theory as correct. "Spock will not come to terms with his limits. The elders and I do not approach him now because his personal grief is too close to the surface. He must come into self-reflection and only then can he properly carry out his responsibilities."

"You seem to know a lot of about Spock," she realized aloud.

"My name is Sarek," he informed her. "I am his father."

Christine blanched and her mouth hung open. She had attacked his son and had no words to respond to Sarek.

Not knowing what else to say or do, she rose from her seat and busied herself with the hot water urn. It was better this way keeping her hands preoccupied and away from Sarek's face. Nevertheless she couldn't resist a quick glance over her shoulder. He didn't look mad at her but who knew what he was thinking in his mind?

He just lost a wife, she reminded herself. I wonder what sort of a woman Amanda Grayson was to move to another planet and marry an alien.

She let the cups brew until they were full of steaming water and mixed in the herbs to prepare the tea. Christine retook her seat and offered one to Sarek. To her relief and surprise he accepted the cup from her.

Nothing more could be said or done. Christine sat there cupping the mug and letting the steam stream into her face, waiting for it to cool. She'd drink it and go back to duties, then deport herself off the Enterprise once they got back to Earth.

The doors reopened and McCoy came back from the bridge. He strode over to the urn and began making himself a cup of tea. "Green blooded hobgoblin," he grumbled not-so-quietly while stirring his spoon vigorously. McCoy eyed the tea in disdain. "What I really need is a bottle of Kentucky bourbon and a bucket of ice."

Christine rose cautiously. "What happened?" she asked him.

"What happened? I'll tell you what happened," McCoy growled to face her. "Our acting captain tried to point out to me how Jim and I were close and he admitted it wasn't easy turning my back on a friend. So I gave him a good piece of my mind. I told him by ditching Jim on a frozen rock, he sentenced him to death and made us lose a valuable asset.

"Hell, you know Jim's crazy but he'll find a way to come out on top no matter what. He just can't lose. It's in his DNA. We need that kind of skill to face of the Romulans. So I said to Spock, 'if you wanna ride in the Kentucky Derby, you don't leave your prize stallion in the stable.' And you know what that pointy eared bastard told me?"

Christine waited for a response while Dr. McCoy tipped his head back and drained the cup dry. After gulping down his tea he resumed ranting away.

"Spock told me, 'A curious metaphor doctor, as a stallion must be broken before reaching its potential.' He didn't even act like it was a hard decision and said if he wanted to roam the halls weeping, he'd know where to find us." McCoy shook his head in disbelief. "He's not a Vulcan. He's a freakin' computer."

All this time, Sarek remained passive and said nothing. McCoy set his cup aside and pinching the bridge of his nose, he motioned for Christine to come within earshot.

Making sure no one else could hear them he muttered in a low voice, "Did you really hit him, Nurse Chapel?"

"Yes sir," she admitted wearily.

He grunted and started massaging his temples with his fingertips. "If we go by the book then I shouldn't be promoting that kind of behavior aboard a starship."

Christine looked away, too ashamed to face Dr. McCoy.

"But if I was in your shoes I would've jammed a laser scalpel up a certain part of his anatomy," the doctor added.

Before she could even respond, the alarms were going off. Christine's mind reverted to the worst case scenario: the Romulans had decided to go after the Enterprise again and were back to finish them off.

"It's a security breach," McCoy remarked aloud. "Who the hell is going through the engine room?"

He rushed to a side screen and tapped in a few coordinates while Christine looked over his shoulder. No, it couldn't be, her eyes must be deceiving her! That was—

"JIM!" McCoy exploded. "How the hell did he get back on board!?"

Lo and behold, the screen displayed someone standing among the heavy machinery in the bowels of the Enterprise engine room. The man in the heavy parka was no doubt Jim Kirk. Christine had never been so relieved to see him again. He was assisting someone else in a knit cap to his feet and trying to stay one step ahead of the red-shirted guards that were chasing them.

"Of all the goddam crazy tricks," McCoy sputtered. "Where'd he find a transporter on Delta Vega? And who's with him?" He whirled to face Christine, eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. "Nurse Chapel, stay here."

"Doctor, just this once—" she protested. She had to know what was going on. But McCoy was already racing back towards the bridge.

"Man the helm!" McCoy hollered as he ran for the umpteenth time out of the sick bay. Christine stamped her foot in frustration. Was she never going to get all of the facts straight?

Just as she was about to reach for the pin-pod Sarek, who had been quiet and reflecting all this time, came over to her. "I believe if you adjust the sensors on these computers you may receive full audio and visual," he suggested.

One long gnarled finger ran across the touch-sensitive screen. Christine watched the images flash for a few seconds until it finally became still. Within seconds she had a full clear view of the bridge and everyone in it.

Sarek glanced at Christine. "You will forgive me but I must also return to the bridge. It is uncertain how Spock will react to this unlikely surprise."

She nodded knowingly. No sooner had he left the sick bay then Christine adjusted the volume on the screen to see better. Over her shoulder, a few medics were also watching the same scenario.

Jim Kirk had been marched into the bridge along with the newcomer who was, oddly enough, soaked to the skin. He looked slightly bewildered and yet impressed with the Enterprise. Spock began to demand answers from Kirk: who was the newcomer and how had they managed to beam aboard the Enterprise at warp speed.

"I'm not telling," he answered. For once, Spock was lost for words.

"What, that doesn't frustrate you, does it?" Jim asked smugly.

Christine recognized that tone of voice. Did Jim want to get his lights punched out again?

Apparently so because Spock continued to be brief and to the point. "You will answer me," he cautioned in an ominous tone.

Jim continued to taunt him. "What's with you, Spock? Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset. Did you see what that bastard did with his ship?"

The Vulcan replied swiftly, "Of course I did."

"So are you afraid or aren't you?"

"I will not allow you to lecture me on the merits of emotion."

"And you were the one who said fear was necessary," Kirk shot back in triumph.

He's trying to get Spock angry. Christine drew in a sharp breath.

"What's it like not to feel anything like anger or heartbreak," Jim went on. "Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?"

"Back away from me, Mr. Kirk." Spock's voice was barely audible.

"You don't feel anything!" Jim yelled, nearly spitting in Spock's face. "It must not even compute you! You never loved her!"

Christine saw a flash of white teeth on the screen as Spock charged Kirk with unbridled fury. He let out a roar of frustration as he slammed fists and blows into Kirk's body. Nobody could stop him as Spock rammed Kirk into one piece of equipment and then threw him into another. Kirk tried briefly to protect himself by holding his arms over himself as a shield but Spock's fist came down on him hard, nearly crunching his jawbone in.

"STOP IT!" she heard herself scream aloud. Christine beat her fists against the screen. It was a futile effort; no one there could hear her but she couldn't stand watching it anymore.

The Vulcan had flipped Kirk over onto his back and had a hand at his throat, attempting to strangle him. Kirk's face was turning blue and he was chocking, barely able to fight off the grip that could easily cut off his windpipe for good. The sudden turn of events, watching their acting captain transform into a monster, seemed to have paralyzed everyone else on the bridge.

"Spock!"

The voice of Sarek, firm and commanding, must have broken through. Because Spock's face distorted as he slowly came back to himself, realizing what he had just done. He released his grip on Jim who started wheezing in relief. Spock looked around the bridge to see everyone's horrified faces.

Slowly he made his way over to Dr. McCoy. "Doctor, I relinquish my command on the grounds that I have been emotionally compromised," he said feebly. "Please note the time and date in the ship's log."

Emotionally compromised, she thought. Of course. Regulation 6-19 of Starfleet means he has to resign. but Kirk was just getting him riled up.

"I like this ship!" the newcomer suddenly spoke up in a broad accent. "It's excitin'!"

Nobody else shared his opinion.

"Well that's just great," McCoy remarked sarcastically. "No we've got no captain and no goddam first officer to replace him."

Jim didn't miss a beat. "Yeah we do," he said before walking over to the captain's chair and sitting down in it.

Christine had seen a lot that night but this was nothing short of impossible. Although she had to admit that looking at Kirk sitting poised and ready to command somehow felt right. He looked determined and ready to take affirmative action for the entire ship.

"What?!" McCoy was flabbergasted.

"Pike made him first officer," Sulu explained. She must've missed that slight but very important detail.

Uhura, however, remained skeptical. "I sure hope you know what you're doing," she cautioned Kirk.

"Me too," he answered. Kirk pressed a button on the side of the captain's chair and spoke aloud. His voice filled the entire ship, including the sick bay, with a clear firm command.

"Attention crew of the Enterprise. This is James Kirk. Captain Spock has resigned his commission and advanced me to acting captain. I know you were all expecting to regroup with the rest of the fleet but I'm ordering a pursuit on the enemy ship we believe is headed for Earth. All departments report to battle stations in ten minutes.

"Either we're going down or they are. Kirk out."

A-A-A

There was nothing more they could do but wait. While the medical officers chattered among themselves questioning the authenticity of Kirk's promotion and wondering how many more injured patients they'd expect, one of them noted to Christine on the newcomer. She recognized his name as one that Ben had mentioned, a Montgomery Scott who had transferred from Edinburgh to study Starfleet engineering.

Mr. Scott must've gotten on the wrong side of Admiral Archer because he had been shipped off to Delta Vega for detention months ago after an error in calculations. At least Christine had gotten a trial but that sounded like an unacceptable excuse for punishment, exiling Mr. Scott all because of a silly dog!

If we survive this trip I'm going to put in a request for adjusting punishment rules, Christine resolved to herself. Along with longer uniform skirts.

As if the voyage couldn't get any more dotty, McCoy came back to the sick bay half an hour later looking slightly perplexed but not half as angry as she expected. The other medical officers surrounded him asking for answers but he ordered them to "shut up" so he could get the facts straight.

"Well, the good news is that our new acting captain is going in on a suicide mission to get Captain Pike back. That's also the bad news," he added.

"WHAT!?" everyone blurted at once.

"How's that good news at all?" someone shot up.

"It means it'll give us a fighting chance against the Romulans if they're distracted with Kirk and Spock aboard," McCoy explained.

"Kirk and Spock?" Christine was surprised. "What happened during the last half hour, doctor?"

"Well, I dunno exactly but whatever it was, it worked." McCoy folded his arms over his chest. "We were all talkin' about ways to catch up with that Romulan bastard and the Russian whiz kid thinks we're gonna stay out of sight if we drop out of warp near Saturn. Now I can't trust the fate of the universe with a kid who's not even old enough to shave but it wasn't as if we had any other options."

"And then suddenly, out of the blue, Mr. Pointy Ears shows up as if he hasn't just tried snapping Jim's neck off. He just said Whiz Kid was right and he'd go along with the mission to get Pike back. I don't know who or what did it but somehow Spock got his head out of his ass and started thinking instead of arguing."

"You're joking," Christine said. Had someone actually managed to sort things out for Spock? Or had he reached a point of clear thinking all on his own?

"Yup," McCoy nodded. "So instead of going up against Nero with guns a' blazin' this ship is gonna play 'hide and seek'. There's no way they're going to find us inside of Titan which is exactly why we're going there while Jim and Spock get aboard their vessel. We're likely to get shaken up inside a magnetic field so I want all available hands to strap patients into their beds."

McCoy clapped his hands. "I don't want anyone flying around this ship who shouldn't be. Now let's get to work!"

Everyone else had taken off like McCoy said but Christine approached him with several questions still unexplained. "Dr. McCoy, isn't that a tremendous risk? If only Jim and Spock get aboard that Romulan ship without backup..."

"Think about it, Nurse Chapel. This Nero's got an ego bigger than the universe and can only think about blasting ships and planets apart. Two guys sneaking on board? Completely undetected and under the radar."

"Well, if you say so," she murmured. Jim was thinking outside the box and if Spock could lend some of his scientific intellect to the plan, it didn't sound as futile a mission as she thought it would be.

No sooner had McCoy spoken then the panel doors parted and Jim and Spock strode in. Christine noticed that McCoy was right about Spock. The Vulcan appeared calm and restored to his usual condition. There wasn't a trace of dislike in his voice when he said to Jim, "We have to carry a minimum amount of supplies, captain. There's no time to waste."

"I agree. Basic Aid-One and lung protection," Jim nodded in agreement. "We don't know what foul air those Romulans are breathing but we sure as hell don't want to be poisoned."

Only an hour ago, Spock wouldn't address his former adversary as "captain". Now they seemed to be syncronized in the mission.

"It's nice to see you two in the same room without tearing each other's heads off," McCoy remarked in his usual gruff tone. He turned to Christine. "Do we have any oxygen tablets left?"

"I'll look," she assured him. While Christine opened up the medication compartments, she realized Spock was looking at her carefully. The relapse of her recent attack on him was fresh in her mind and she was uncertain how he'd react.

"Captain, before we reach the transporter room there is something you must know," Spock spoke up.

Jim was already strapping an emergency kit to his utility belt. "What is it?"

"In my former position as acting captain I accused Nurse Chapel of violating a code of conduct," Spock confessed. "And being emotionally compromised at the time, I did not have the proper authority to dismiss her from the service."

Kirk glanced at Christine. "McCoy told me that you got quite physical with the first officer. Is that right?"

Seeing Christine's bright red face confirmed Kirk's question. He smiled and nodded. "Good for you. We all need a kickstart now and then."

He then turned to Spock. "Since you admit to being emotionally compromised then your attempt to dismiss Nurse Chapel is invalid."

"Nevertheless, as you are the acting captain now, I suggest you ratify the accusation," Spock commented.

"Will you two shut the hell up and get moving? You've got a ship to catch!" McCoy barked. "Or are you gonna stand there jabbering all day while Nero plans his next Armageddon?"

"All right, Bones." Kirk turned to face Christine who had just handed him the oxygen tablets necessary for emergency breathing. He picked them up and slipped them into his utility belt.

"Nurse Chapel, the charges against you have been dropped and you are completely at liberty to do whatever Bones tells you to do or what you think is necessary in the line of duty. Is that adequate for you?"

"Yes sir!" she beamed with delight.

"There now, Mr. Spock. Are you satisfied?"

"Indeed, captain. I do not think it would be logical to deprive Dr. McCoy of one of his most dedicated medical officers right now." Spock's steady gaze assured her that her error had been forgiven.

"Finally, we agree on something!" McCoy muttered. "Now will you two get going?!"

"On our way, Bones." Kirk actually waved over his shoulder as he and Spock quickly strode out of the sick bay.

McCoy collapsed onto a bench and ran his palms across his face, trying to compose himself after their insane adventure running in and out of the inferno of space.

Christine just gazed out of the window and continued to watch the stars. So, Jim Kirk and Mr. Spock would be beaming aboard that enormous Romulan vessel in one last mission to stop Nero once and for all. She knew she should have faith in them, and so she did. I believe you two can do this together if you just work alongside, she thought.

"Nurse Chapel?" McCoy spoke up from behind her.

"Yes, doctor?"

"If we get out of this alive then I'm buying you a drink."

A smile graced Christine's lips. "Thank you, Doctor."