As he paced through the Enterprise halls, Spock's eyes were locked onto his destination: the turbolift. He ignored the astonished gasps and sideways glances he received from crewmembers. Never before had they seen so… much of their First Officer. The standard issue waterproof uniform was the kind of uniform only meant to be worn in bodies of water.
"Mr. Spock!" peeped a voice behind him in a volume just loud enough to still be considered a whisper. A petite female ensign approached him from behind with caution. Spock whirled around, droplets of water from his hair hitting a few passers-by.
"Your clothes," the ensign outstretched her arm with a pile of linens, as far away from her body as possible. "I was on my way to the pool and I saw them laying there –"
Spock took the clothes with a hard, blank expression. "Yes, thank you, Ensign Lang," he said, grabbing the garments and ducking into a nearby washroom. Fortunately, the waterproof uniform was designed to dry in a matter of hours so that uniform pants could fit smoothly over the mid-thigh bottoms. Spock donned his black t-shirt and blue science uniform, and headed out the door.
Perhaps the Doctor was correct in stating my logic would be compromised for a few days, Spock thought to himself, entering the turbolift.
"Bridge," he said, and began ascending the decks.
But the Captain's tone of voice and described circumstances suggested a situation of grave importance. It was only logical that I endeavor to arrive on the Bridge as soon as possible. However, there is the matter of observing Starfleet regulation attire -.
The turbolift doors opened to the most chaotic Bridge Spock had ever seen. Machines were buzzing, blinking and whirring. Officers were pushing buttons frantically, trying to stabilize the ship. The atmosphere of the room told Spock that everyone was inwardly up in arms, but working very hard to maintain composure. He walked over to his usual place behind the Captain's chair.
Kirk turned to face him, "Spock. We've received multiple distress calls from a planet that we seem to be orbiting, at least, by the laws of physics. Is that right, Mr. Sulu?"
"Aye, sir. We are certainly orbiting something, but not by my hand. Something pulled us out of warp and into orbit. And I can't take us out of orbit. The controls are locked," Sulu answered steadily.
Spock eyed the front of the ship. The view screen was black. A sphere-shaped black hole seemed to be cut out of a smattering of stars.
"Are all systems operational?" Spock asked.
"Aye, sir, I've checked her out myself. Triple-checked. Not a scratch on her," replied Scotty from the Engineering station.
"Fascinating."
Kirk faced the communications console. "Lieutenant Uhura, brief Mister Spock on all recent communications."
"A copy of the recent transcripts is currently on the science station's computer, sir."
Lieutenant Pearson was not so skillful at concealing his bewilderment. He moved over to let Spock have a look.
The message read:
Urgent. Come at once. Our people are gravely ill. Coordinates 547.897.903.
Signed,
Dr. S.
Spock looked up to signify he had read the message. Uhura added, "This message was written in a new cipher that Starfleet recently cracked. We've only known it to be used by the Romulan Empire. What's more, the coordinates use a different coding system specific to numerals. The code is not recognized by computers but I am certain that I have accurately transcribed it, based on my research in this area."
Spock was impressed that Lieutenant Uhura's independent study of linguistics so aptly aided the current situation. "If I am not mistaken, those coordinates are directly beneath our ship," he noted.
"Zat is correct, sir," replied Chekov, "Right in ze middle of nowhere."
Unlike the rest of the ship, the science console was completely dark. The sensors were fully functional, but picked up no readings whatsoever. Spock walked over to Kirk calmly.
"Recommendation, Mr. Spock?" Kirk asked.
"Given the very little information available –"
Without warning, the Enterprise was lurched portside. The Bridge personnel were thrown about as if they were children's playthings.
"Captain, they are dragging us closer to where the planet should be. I have lost all steering control of the ship," reported Sulu.
"Another message arriving, Captain. It is written in the same cipher as before. The communicant says he wishes to speak with my commanding officer," Uhura stated, fingers gliding across multiple buttons with ease.
"Broadcast, Uhura."
A cloud of fuzzy static ensued, only to give way to a black front view screen.
"Captain Kirk?" a raspy, frightened man's voice called.
"Yes, this is the Captain. Identify yourself."
"That will not be necessary at the moment. We need your help and we need it now." Some of the voice's fragility began to strengthen, as if the weakened voice had been a facade all along.
"Where are you located? And what are you doing to our ship?" Kirk barked as steadily as his nerves would allow.
"We are bringing you to us. That is the only way to insure you will help us. Many of our people have fallen ill with a mysterious virus. You have doctors on board the ship, they will cure us."
As the ship began to dive lower and lower into where the planet's atmosphere should be, the view screen began to display a blurry, white-gray image that gave way to open green fields, rows of crops, and dark conifer trees. They were descending near an outcropping near what appeared to be a settlement of primitive dwelling places. For the first time since Jim had been in command, the Starship Enterprise was going to land, and there was nothing he could do about it.
"You can't just kidnap an entire crew and force them to your planet. Of course we want to help, but there are appropriate ways of getting our attention," Kirk stated, apprehensive, trying to stall for time.
Meanwhile, Spock relieved Lieutenant Pearson at the science console. "Sensors are once again functional, Captain. This appears to me a Class M planet, undocumented by Starfleet."
Spock was interrupted by the voice, which he assumed belonged to "Dr. S" from the ciphered distress call.
"Our people do not take kindly to outsiders. In fact, we are completely isolated and wish to remain that way. That is why you will come as one of us. We are attaching our code of dress for your preparation needs." Radio noise invaded the Bridge. The conversation, if you could call it that, was over. Just then, a small rumble alerted the crew that their ship had reached solid ground, a feeling previously unknown to most of them. It wouldn't have felt so bad to their space-weary legs had they not landed here against their will.
On the view screen, mens' and womens' clothing appeared. Fabric types and colors were specifically labeled. The attire consisted of long, moderately tight pants for men in various light earthy tones: green, tan, and burnt orange, tucked into thigh-high white boots, with a choice of either a long or short-sleeved un-collared shirt of the same color. The women wore a similarly styled, but tighter, outfit in darker tones. Both genders wore a headpiece that resembled a piece of torn cloth. It was a headband that reached around the forehead, over the ears, and tied slightly higher than the nape of the neck.
Kirk was dazed by the sudden twist of events, but he did not let his distress show. He directed Uhura to forward these dress specifications to the replicator, and send Dr. McCoy to retrieve them. "And notify Starfleet as to our position. Mr. Scott, you have the conn. Try everything you can to regain control of the ship. Auxiliary power, anything that you think will help. Mr. Spock, you're coming with me."
"Captain, you canna mean you're actually going out there!" Scotty replied.
"That's exactly what I mean, Mr. Scott. I have little choice in the matter. We can't just hide in here forever. Besides, these people might be telling the truth."
The ship was placed on yellow alert after the crew was briefed on the situation. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy met to retrieve their clothing.
"Jim, I don't know who these people are, and why you insist on meeting them face to face, wearing this stuff, no less! Tie this for me?" he asked, motioning his headband. Kirk was busy wrestling with his own costume, so Spock moved to assist the doctor.
"Bones, we have to be ready for anything. They could actually be sick and just have an odd way of asking for help. We've contacted Starfleet, but the message most likely hasn't arrived yet." Kirk had finally won the struggle against the white, over-the knee boots.
Spock finished tying on his ecru headband.
"You know, with that getup on, no one could tell you're Vulcan," Bones remarked.
"Indeed." Spock was unfazed by Bones' comment, which he normally might have taken as an insult.
With weapons, tricorders, and communicators in tow, the three beamed down to the coordinates of the broadcast. They were outside one of the humble dwellings that resembled a log cabin.
"Well, that was the shortest beam-down I ever experienced," said McCoy lightheartedly, to try and combat his inner uneasiness.
Spock puzzled over his peculiar tricorder readings. "Captain, the tricorder picks up no sign of life. In fact, the blank readout recalls the phenomena affecting the ship's sensor."
"Phasers on stun," said Kirk. It was more of a warning than an order.
The small, wooden room housed a desk of seemingly primitive radio equipment. Kirk wondered how these people could control the functions of the Enterprise and mask their planet from sensors with such limited devices.
"Welcome," said a man, swiveling around to face them from his seat behind the desk. Clad in a deep scarlet version of the standard apparel, he was dark-haired with flecks of grey. A strong build was visible underneath his short-sleeved shirt. In fact, he did not fit his feeble voice whatsoever. Nothing seemed to be wrong with him.
"Doctor S, I presume?" Spock said with a tinge of sarcasm.
The man nodded. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Commander Spock."
"Are you really a doctor?" Bones asked skeptically.
"Oh yes, Doctor McCoy, I assure you, I am. Just not in the manner you might think."
Bones looked at him as if to say, What's that supposed to mean? But he held his tongue for the time being.
"There are many questions I would like to ask you, doctor," began Kirk. "But foremost on my mind is how you were able to identify us by name," gesturing to Spock and McCoy.
"Ah, I assumed you might ask such an inquiry. I will not deprive you of the information you seek. You see, perhaps I left out that our planet is also home to some of the finest scientists in the galaxy, who are quite familiar with the Federation and the Enterprise."
As if planned, the door creaked open and in walked five scientists. Four of them looked vaguely familiar to Spock, but when he laid eyes on the fifth one, he – quite illogically – stopped breathing. It was Leila Kalomi.