Pre-show Accommodations; or rather, the longest pre-chapter Author's Note to ever be found in a fanfiction:

(This might be a TLDR. Whatever. Read it if you want to be a super-nerd. It's really long and involved for an opening statement.)

Okok, so I am super excited about this chapter because I had to do so much freaking work to make it so. I have a special treat for all you rabid fans, and that is – you get to follow along with some of the technobabble! :D

At some point in this chapter, we'll be focusing on part of Chekhov's job, navigations. In order to do this, I had to pull some serious research hours. I finally found a legitimate, easy-to-read map of the star systems catalogued by the Federation itself. It can be found at this convenient website: startrekmaps . com (delete the spaces.) I got the simplified map of the Federation Main Core, if you'd like to get the same one.

If you care to follow along with what Chekhov is talking about when he's referencing planets and starbases, you now can! I have, of course, had to take some liberties. I found that some of the things I've been saying… have been a bit wrong. So! Stating liberties here. Mars, the place where the Enterprise and Sealion crashed, is actually New Mars, or the Martian Colonies, that is in the star system of Deneva. Ahem. Yeah. (Super-liberty.)

Other less important liberties include: I had to make some system to form proper marks and coordinates, so I made them. For coordinates, I first distinguish the x and y distances from the vector by lightyears, then state as "y by x." Then I randomly assign a degree from the galactic plane (north or south) and put it before the rise by run. So in the end, a coordinate will look something like this: 7 N, 45 by -98. The marks are a bit easier, since they're all about 360 first by horizontal and then by vertical. I counted the Galactic Meridian as zero and 360 for horizontal, and the Galactic plane as zero and 180 for vertical. Example of a mark: 87 mark 30. Easy enough. The tricky part is when they aren't straight lines all the time... but enough of that.

Oh, and the star system Zanabar had to be made up. It's important. It's where Colony IX is located. Ok, here goes, I'm tryin' to tell you where it is on the map. (Because I made a place for it there.) Coordinates are a bit tough for you guys, but here they are: 2 N, -28.9 by 403.72. It's in the small space between the Romulan DMZ, Klingon border, and Federation border. Really close to Starbase 234 over there. Check it out. (By the way, there's totally another Starbase 234 – see if you can find it and give me the basic coordinates or just tell me what it's near or something. It's like a game! :D No pressure.)

I made a cute little map for you guys to check out for the whole thing to make it easier to follow the trial specifically. And don't hate on my evidently superior editing which resembles the crayon-scribblings of a five-year-old. You can find it here: http:/img15 .imageshack .us/i/trialmapofmarks .png/

And because I am responsible for this – I deeply apologize for my error in the last chapter. Chapel's first name is NOT Joy, it is most definitely Christine. Again, sorry about that. Forget it ever happened. Shoutout to LaurAmour to pointing that out. (I think it happened because of the old days when I watched Pokemon and all the nurses were named Joy… But that's just a theory.)

And yeah, I'm a girl. Just to, you know, allay all those fears/questions about it.

TLDR end – continue on to the story! :)

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Technical Difficulties

Chapter 16: Of Lawyers, Logic, and Lies

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Jim finished off his lunch in a hurry, and threw his tray into the recycler. Spock was already done, ruthlessly efficient as always. With the hint of a grin, Jim glanced over at him.

"Time to rock and roll."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "…Quite."

They set off together in the general direction of the courtroom, only two buildings south of their immediate position.

Scotty and Bones came around the corner, both of them clapping a hand on Jim's shoulder in turn before taking strides behind them. Uhura had spotted them and was coming from across the quad, carrying files and PADDs. Chekhov and Sulu ran from the lobby of their dorm, trying to catch up. Silently, they all followed.

As the bridge crew passed groups of people still eating lunch, walking on the sidewalk, or talking to friends, Jim nodded to those whom he knew and recognized – fellow officers from the Enterprise. All of these officers immediately dropped whatever they were doing, saluted, and joined Kirk and Spock to go to court.

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The doors to the courtroom opened again, and the mob of people that had been anxiously waiting in the lobby rushed through to get back to their seats. As Security Officer Cheng watched people pass him by, he immediately noted whether they were armed, what their rank was, whom they had come in with, and what they were talking about. He was especially keen on the higher-ranked officers and the foreign representatives.

The entire room was bustling with activity, conversations flying all over the place and officers rustling every which way. As Cheng looked over the crowd, he saw a sea of colorful, rustling uniforms. When his eyes were looking far off to the other sections of the courtroom, Cheng heard it before he knew what was happening.

The people closest to the door were the first ones to quiet down, because they saw it almost immediately. Then the quiet spread like a wildfire through the rest of the court as heads whipped around to see the impressive sight until the entire room was silent. Cheng turned to see what was happening.

Captain James T. Kirk stepped through the door, slowly but surely. Every single step that he took resounded through the courtroom with a clipped tap, and his limp was accentuated through the noise. His arms were behind his back in standard Starfleet ease, and he looked ever the sturdy leader.

On his right and left came Commander Spock and Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy, both of them loyally flanking their commanding officer and looking forward with pride at his progression.

Behind them came Head of Communications Nyota Uhura, Chief of Engineering Montgomery Scott, and Chief of Security Giotto. Each of them held their heads high with confidence as they marched down the center aisle. Then came a flurry of nurses, security officers, engineers, and all manner of positions in a long procession, all from the Enterprise.

Cheng had never before seen such evident loyalty in ever subset of every position on a starship to a captain.

When Captain Kirk came to his seat, he turned to his followers and nodded his head with a steely look in his eye. Every single officer, from Ensign to Commander, saluted. They then took their seats as one.

It was time for the trial to resume.

"I now call this trial to be back in session," Judge Fayden declared after the jury had been seated. He rang the small bronze bell thrice before continuing. "I now call Officer Seamus Finnegan back to the stand."

The door opened once more, and Finnegan came to his designated spot.

Fayden nodded to the table where Spock and Uhura sat. "Prosecutors, at this time you may call another witness if you so choose or allow Mr. Mendlesson to begin his examinations."

Uhura stood from her seat. "Thank you, sir…Your Honor, we call Ensign Pavel Chekhov to the stand."

An excited squeak was heard throughout the court, and a tiny Russian officer scrambled from the front row of witnesses to the stand in a frenzied whirl.

"Reportink fore duty, sir." He gave an enthusiastic salute.

"Pavel Andreievich Chekhov. Serial Number: 656-5827B. Service Rank: Ensign. Position: Ship's Navigator. Current Assignment: USS Enterprise. Commendations: Award of Valor, Decorated by Starfleet Operations."

Smoothly stepping up to the stand, Uhura handed Chekhov a PADD. "Ensign Chekhov, you will find archived information detailing a wide range of different ships' marks compiled by yourself."

"Yessir, zis ees zee same stardate as zee keednapping, I recognaize ze flight patternz qvite vell. Werification of zis eez on backup driwe, no?"

"Yes, all of this information corresponds with the records of Starfleet Command as well as the archives aboard the Enterprise. Ensign, is the only course on this archive that of the Enterprise?"

"Nyet, zere are approximately fowrty sheeps on here, sir."

"Why?"

"All uf zem had somesink to do wiz zee Enterprise on zat day, sir. I recorded awl of zem as I do on a reguular beiseez unt charted zeir marks accordingly."

"What were the majority of the ships doing?"

"Recowwering ze Enterprise from ze face uff Noo Mars, unt helpink ze wounded reach safety frum ze rubble, sir."

"And which ship is the most essential in this archive?"

"Ze Sealion, sir."

"And what are some of the statistics on this ship?"

"Eet eez a cargo sheep, vun zat hass no license to trawel in Federation space during zis time. Ze license expired seweral years ago. Ze ownersheep eez currently under Seamus Finnegan, but eet vas prewiously under ze care uf ze trading company Regent."

"You tracked it?"

"Da, I tracked all ze vay frum startink point to finish on zis stardate."

"To clarify, when you say 'finish,' do you mean the end of the pursuit as in the face of New Mars, or the intended destination of the ship?"

"Both, sir. I haff both of zem heere."

"Could you elaborate on your findings, Ensign?"

"Da, sir." Chekhov clicked on his PADD for a moment, scrolling through millions of pieces of information in a millisecond. He hooked it up to the cord handed to him by Uhura, and in a flash the information on the two-inch screen in front of Chekhov was two hundred inches across before the entire court.

The picture was in 3D, floating above everyone's heads in an intricate spiderweb of shimmering threads shooting through each other. Every single one of the threads was a charted path of a starship.

Chekhov clicked at his PADD, fingers dashing from one key to another, and line after line flickered out until only two were left. Labels popped up like flat balloons, dictating ship name and mark. The labels ran up and down the threads, indicating progression through time via stardate. One of them was the Enterprise; the other the Sealion, connected to a point but breaking off into two divergent paths where the Enterprise's path intersected.

"Da, so. Heer, eez ze Sealion's oreeginal mark," Chekhov highlighted the thread in bright pink above everyone's heads. A few key planets and starbases popped up, all labeled, as well. "vich runs frum coordinates 00 by 05 to 10 N, -23.0 by 13.65 by vay of 35 mark 10. More specificawy, frum Sol, or ze planet Earth, to Starbase 12."

A tiny pink model of the Sealion popped up and sat on Earth. The model traced the highlighted mark all the way to Starbase 12, winding its way past Sirius and what had been Vulcan to sit on the blue triangle-shaped starbase.

"I traced to ze startingk point, ant found ze takeoff point at Earth's Common Port A Lot 260. Zen I traced to ze endpoint, veech vas Starbase 12 Port D Lot 496."

As he continued typing on the PADD, Chekhov started humming. The glowing threads of marks and starships shifted ever so slightly as they began to grow in size, zooming in on Earth. The Sealion was back near its starting position, heading in a frozen beeline away from Earth.

"Ze Enterprise herself eentercepted ze Sealion's course after approximately feefteen hours unt followed frum orbit."

A silver little Enterprise popped up, orbiting the Earth which was now roughly the size of a baby elephant. The trail it left was neon green.

Chekhov clicked a button, time sped up, and the ships took off. The Sealion buzzed forward, and the Enterprise followed its course by breaking orbit. Earth disappeared as it moved out of sight.

"Unt at coordinates 20.8 by 12.0, ze Enterprise collided vith ze Sealion."

The silver Enterprise, which had come to nearly a standstill, suddenly sped up, catching up readily with the constant speed of the Sealion. Just as the Enterprise was closing in, it sped up even more, and the two ships collided. At that moment, the model image froze.

"Zen ze resultink differences in bulk, speed, propulsion, unt course caused both ze Enterprise unt ze Sealion to hit ze planet New Mars in ze system Deneva."

The model zoomed out until the star system was visible. With a click, the ships began to move again, going straight for the planet labeled 'New Mars.' They impacted the side.

"So! As you can see, ze course uf ze Sealion vuz altered frum its original mark to hit zis planet. Qvite accidental frum all sides."

Switching her attention from the 3D model to Chekhov, Uhura walked up to the stand. "Thank you, Ensign. Very concise and easy to understand."

Chekhov beamed. He was always being told by this person or that person that all of his explanations were much too complex to be explanations. And that every explanation of his needed thirty or so explanations to explain that. And so on. So being understandable was quite the compliment.

"No more further questions, Your Honor." Uhura brusquely sat down. Fayden glanced at the defense. "Attorney…?"

"No questions, Your Honor."

"Ensign."

Chekhov left the stand and made his way back to his seat next to Sulu, grinning all the while as if he'd been on his favorite hologram episode.

"I now call Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu to the stand."

Sulu looked around him with wide, blinking eyes, as if he couldn't believe he was being called up. Maybe they had meant someone else with the same name…? Chekhov elbowed him with a grin, and Sulu understood. He eased out of his seat and made his way to the stand with his back straight and tall.

"…Lieutenant, your ID, please?" Uhura held out her hand expectantly for his card.

"Oh! Yeah, one second…" Blushing, he quickly shuffled around in his pockets, and pulled out a yellow chip card. He carefully placed it into her palm.

"Hikaru Sulu. Serial Number: S674-328R. Service Rank: Lieutenant. Position: Helmsman. Current Assignment: USS Enterprise. Commendations: Award of Valor, Starfleet Citation of Outstanding Maneuver."

Turning from her table to face the jury, Uhura said, "One solar day ago, the starship Enterprise, the flagship of the Federation of Planets, pursued the cargo ship the Sealion when the Enterprise was in dire need of repair. Lieutenant Sulu, what was your role in this mission?"

He jumped a little. " – Sir, I was the helmsman on duty."

"Please explain the buildup of events according to you."

"Right…" Sulu thought deeply for a moment. "…I guess… It began earlier that morning. Most crewmen were on planet for leave, but I stayed onboard the Enterprise with the rest of the skeleton crew. We'd just been informed that there had been an unidentified murder and that the Captain was currently missing.

"We tried checking the Captain's lifesigns, and they indicated that he had been terminated. For some time, the entire bridge was under the impression that the Captain had been murdered."

"Why was that?" Uhura cut in.

"It turned out later that Captain Kirk's combadge had been put on the murder victim's corpse. The one found, what's his name, MacArthur."

"Go on." she prompted.

"Then we had multiple communications that assured us this wasn't the case, and that Captain Kirk was instead on the Sealion."

"And that is when the chase began?"

"No ma'am, after we received a communication from Captain Kirk from the Sealion. He'd made some rudimentary communications device in his capture and through targeting his signal we were able to firmly lock on his position and conclude he was indeed on the Sealion."

"How did you proceed to pursue the Sealion?"

"We… well, we were planning to intercept it with a number of other ships, but that wasn't possible since no other ships were cleared until after the pursuit. Instead, we followed the Sealion's path directly, beginning at the speed at Warp 6 in order to catch up but then slowed to impulse engines because of the problems down in Engineering.

"Somehow, and I have no idea how, Scotty got the engines running for warp speed and we were able to immediately catch up to the Sealion at a whopping Warp 8 – unfortunately, I wasn't expecting the surge of total power to Warp 9.5 and had the throttle all the way up."

"How did that affect the pursuit?"

Sulu's eyes stonily faced forward, his jaw tightening with guilt. "The Enterprise crashed the Sealion into the planetside of Mars."

Uhura's eyes softened. "And after the collision?"

"Though the ship was severely damaged, there were no fatal injuries, Lieutenant. And we got Captain Kirk back safely, and arrested that villain Finnegan." The corner of Sulu's mouth curled up in triumph.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Sulu; no more questions."

Fayden turned his gaze to the defense – "Attorney, any questions for the witness?"

Mendlesson nodded his head eagerly. A squeaky yet oily voice issued out. "Yessir, I do have questions for the witness."

Sulu shifted his weight uncomfortably. He hadn't prepared for any of this; only his admittedly romanticized memory was backing him up here. He scanned the crowd that was staring at him as the attorney readied himself with a number of papers. His gaze caught with Chekhov's, who was smiling excitedly.

Probably thinks it's the coolest thing ever to be up on the witness stand, Sulu thought with an irrepressible smile.

Chekhov threw a not-so-subtle thumbs up at him, and with a roll of his eyes, Sulu returned it.

Eyes arriving back at Mendlesson, Sulu was ready. Before, he was confused and unprepared; now, he was ready to take on this smarmy scoundrel. He'd been through much worse than this with Chekhov on the bridge of the Enterprise.

"Mr… Sula, is that right?" Mendlesson was peering at a piece of looseleaf paper where he'd scribbled things down.

"I am Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu, sir." He folded his fingers together and his shoulders relaxed.

"Right. Well," Mendlesson trained his sharp, beady eyes on Sulu as his mousy voice keened through the courtroom. "If I'm not mistaken, did not the Enterprise collide with the Sealion?"

"Yes, it did, sir."

"And you were the one driving it? The ship?"

Sulu looked a bit surprised at his terminology. "Uh, I was manning helm control, yessir."

"Then isn't the collision of the Enterprise into the Sealion technically your fault, Mr. Sula?"

For a moment, Sulu lost his composure. A bloodcurdling glare shot into Mendlesson until Sulu caught himself. The steely attorney at law recoiled as if he was at swordpoint.

Sulu glanced back at Chekhov, then Kirk, and took a breath. Then he shook his head minutely.

"No sir."

"Please explain this logical contradiction to me, Mr. Sula."

"Well, had Finnegan not captured our Captain and proceeded to evade any attempts at communications and forced the Enterprise into high-speed pursuit, the Enterprise would have still been at port undergoing repairs and – "

"But so what?" Mendlesson snidely interrupted. "Aren't people still responsible for what mistakes they make, even if they hadn't helped create the problem?"

Nostrils flaring, Sulu had to make a conscious effort to keep his voice level. "Mistakes, sir, are relative. I would say that the biggest mistake made here is the choice Finnegan made to capture Captain Kirk and think he could get away with it."

"Yes, yes, very poetic, but you're avoiding the point, Mr. Sula." Mendlesson looked patronizingly down at him. "Please, if your mother made you a nasty-tasting drink, and when you took a sip and dropped the cup and it smashed into pieces, would the broken glass be your mother's fault for making you a fish smoothie?"

Sulu's face hardened, and a faint angry blush flashed across his cheeks. His voice rose ever so slightly. "Sir, Finnegan was an officer on the USS Enterprise for over three years. He knew that the engines were in dire need of repair. He chose that time, when the ship was incredibly defunct, to attempt a crime so incredibly heinous that he knew the crew would not settle for less than to regain its captain without a fight. He knew he would be inciting more danger to not only the Enterprise, but its crew as well."

The smooth, slick attorney clucked his tongue and wiped his greasy hair back in one long motion. "If the Enterprise was in such a state, wouldn't Finnegan assume that the ship wouldn't go after him? Wouldn't he then be trying to save the Enterprise from damages and its crew from injury? What ship would risk so many lives, all for one crewmember?"

The Lieutenant rigidly sat tall, his mouth a grim slash, his black eyes hard as rocks. He was deadly serious. "The USS Enterprise would, sir."

"Really. How could Finnegan have possibly known that the Enterprise would have gone after him in that state? What proof could he have had? Maybe he thought that the Enterprise would be more logical about the situation at hand and send another ship to recover Captain Kirk."

"Impossible," Sulu stated. "The Enterprise had personally saved Officer Finnegan in a similar situation only one year ago."

Mendlesson stopped. His mouth contorted into a fleeting scowl. Obviously he hadn't wanted that particular piece of information known to the jury, even if he had had any previous knowledge of it. He probably hadn't.

Sulu didn't care that Mendlesson hadn't asked a question yet. He was going to say what must be said. "Finnegan knew that we would save Captain Kirk, he knew we would never – "

"No more further questions!" Mendlesson cut Sulu off in a shrill screech.

He stalked back to his spot next to Finnegan.

"Lieutenant Sulu, dismissed," Fayden said, inclining his head towards the inflamed officer.

Sulu rose with a quiet power, and, thrumming with injustice, made his way back to Chekhov.

"Prosecutor?" Judge Fayden indicated Uhura with a flick of his head.

She nodded her head. "We would like to call Chief of Security Giotto to the stand once more."

Giotto stood from his seat, ready with a passion as he moved from his place to the stand. The machine read off his information again, and Uhura stepped before him to begin.

She straightened up and took a deep breath.

Every word was careful, and the pronunciation was perfect. Uhura's sentences wafted through the air and slowly made their way towards the stand. "Lieutenant Commander Giotto, when you were describing the investigation of the death of Officer MacArthur, you mentioned that Captain James T. Kirk had been taken from the Enterprise and therefore diverted your attention and your actions."

"Yessir, I did, sir."

"Please explain why you were so diverted from a murder investigation."

"Well, sir, the priorities of Starfleet Security include the safety of the officers and the protection of life. As Officer MacArthur was already deceased, it was decided that the priority of Enterprise Security at that time was to be focused on the Captain's plight."

"How did you begin?"

"Ma'am?"

"What did you start working on first to regain Captain Kirk after you were first informed?"

Giotto thought for a moment. "We compiled information on the immediate status of Captain Kirk known to us, which was extremely limited. Basically all that was known to us was that he had been taken on board the cargo ship the Sealion."

Uhura flipped her ponytail back in one smooth movement. "And your next step?"

"Next we traced his schedule and figured out when he was the most vulnerable to an attack or capture like this. We determined that he had been taken the night before after he had clocked out for leave."

"How did you conclude who had taken him from the Enterprise?"

"First we looked for a history of the Sealion, which had little information but provided us with a certain pattern of behavior based on the places it had been. Comparing the times and places that the Sealion had visited during shore leave for the Enterprise crew members gave us several options for a suspect."

"How were you certain that the perpetrator was a part of the Enterprise crew?"

Giotto paused. "We weren't. But given the fact that no other transports were made onto the Enterprise since it had docked except for crewmembers, we assumed that it was probably a crewmember already aboard ship."

"And who did you suspect?"

"Seamus Finnegan, sir. He was the only crewmember to match the transport records and the schedule of the Sealion."

"How did you act next?"

"We took stock of the ship's capabilities through Engineering and the options we had through storage of weapons to see what our options were. Then we took a look at the blueprints of the Sealion and came up with several strategies. We then reported options to Commander Spock and informed him of our suspicions of Officer Finnegan."

"And the prisoner Slistastostas?"

"He had already escaped by that point in time."

"Lieutenant Commander," Uhura continued after a moment of pause, "had you already connected Officer Finnegan to the murder of Officer MacArthur?"

"Yes ma'am, we had just discovered DNA evidence of Finnegan being at the scene of the crime moments before we learned that Captain Kirk had been taken hostage."

"How would you describe succinctly the actions Finnegan had taken from the murder of Officer MacArthur to the capture of Captain Kirk?"

"After Finnegan had set Slistastostas on MacArthur, he slipped through the connecting door of Commander Spock's room into the Captain's room. He was lying in wait until the Captain returned to his quarters and then, after jumping, subduing, and beating him for a period of time, instigated an off-ship transport onto the Sealion."

"About how long was the captain under the control of Officer Finnegan?"

"Hmmm, we're not sure about the total amount of time since we aren't certain when Captain Kirk was captured, but we do know that Kirk was restrained and severely beaten in his quarters aboard the Enterprise for at least twelve hours, and was transported onto the Sealion for a total of three hours. At the least, fifteen hours, sir."

"Why was Kirk not immediately taken to the Sealion?"

"The transporters were offline at that point in time, sir. Finnegan had to wait until someone was at least on shift to officially start up the program."

"And he was then beamed to the Sealion."

"Yes ma'am. The records check out."

"Who was on duty for manning the transporter that morning?"

"…Finnegan, ma'am."

"Was this purely coincidence?"

"No, ma'am, Finnegan had requested the morning shift."

"Has he done this before? Requested manning the transporter?"

"Yes ma'am, he's frequently requested different details in overtime shifts."

"And how was Captain Kirk recovered, in the end? Did the Enterprise beam Security Officers aboard the Sealion?"

"No sir, we relocated to the transporter room to wait until Captain Kirk and Officer Finnegan were beamed onto the platform, sir. We then arrested Finnegan."

"And the Captain?"

"He was given immediate medical attention by Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel, sir."

Uhura face turned grim as her voice went soft. "What was the condition of the Captain?"

Giotto's voice cracked as he stumbled through the memory. "He was… it was bad, ma'am. I mean, I've… I've seen some bad stuff, but Captain Kirk… It was the worst I'd ever seen. I thought… Well. I just knew he'd be all right, because Captain Kirk would never let his crew down, but goddamn, sir, he was hurting pretty damn bad, if you'd excuse my language, sir."

Uhura waved the curses away with a light swipe of her hand.

"And Finnegan?" Her tone was cold now.

Giotto's tone darkened with contempt. "He had a few bruises and some bleeding, that's all I saw."

"And you arrested him right away?"

"Yes ma'am, we charged him immediately."

"With what?"

"With the murder of Officer MacArthur and the capture of Captain Kirk, ma'am."

"How did you reconcile having both Slistastostas and Officer Finnegan as suspects for the murder of MacArthur?"

"We figured that they were both involved, since we found Slistastostas soaked with blood and Finnegan's DNA at the scene."

"Did you think that there was a connection between the Captain's capture and Slistastostas' escape from the brig?"

"We had thought so at first, but after we compiled the evidence, we determined differently. Although the murder of MacArthur was directly linked to the capture of the Captain, as it gave Finnegan the time to implement his plans, the escape of Slistastostas from the brig was unconnected. Since he had been taken to the brig, Slistastostas had no communications with Finnegan and he had no memory of what had occurred. Though he willingly went to the brig after we arrested him, Slistastostas had reverted back to the mentality of non-aggression."

"Would you sustain that Slistastostas was incapable of controlling his actions at the time of the murder?"

"Yessir."

"Would you sustain that Slistastostas, though evidently involved in the murder, is not the murderer?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Would you sustain that Slistastostas is therefore inculpable for any action taken during the time of the murder?"

"Yes, I would."

"Would you sustain that Slistastostas is less of a murderer and more of a murder weapon in this case?"

"Yes ma'am, I would."

"Would you sustain that Officer Finnegan was capable of controlling Slistastostas at the time of the murder?"

"Yessir."

"Would you further sustain that Officer Finnegan is the murderer of Officer MacArthur?"

"Yes I do, ma'am."

"And would you sustain that the cause of the capture of Captain Kirk is also that of Officer Finnegan?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Thank you, Officer Giotto. No further questioning."

Uhura walked back to the prosecution table and took her seat.

Judge Fayden looked towards Finnegan and Mendlesson. "Attorney, do you have any questions for the witness?"

Mendlesson jumped up this time, and his shrill, high shriek shot through the courtroom. "Yes, Your Honor, I do, I do have questions for the witness!"

Fayden raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead, then, Attorney."

Mendlesson cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Commander," he began with a tinny, high voice, "is it really possible to state that the creature Slistastostas was a murder weapon? On the contrary, is not Slistastostas a being onto itself that can choose whether or not it can perform an action?"

Bones looked up sharply.

Giotto slid his hands together as he stared down at Mendlesson.

"It is quite possible to state." There was pointedly no 'sir' at the end of his statement. "We had been previously informed of the state of Slistastostas' mind as a result of the Engineering incident earlier that week. We were aware of the polarity of Slistastostas' mind and how his behavior was between that of a polite, intellectual soul and an animalistic killing machine. There was no space between the two and Slistastostas was not in control of when or how his mind switched gears. Finnegan had placed Slistastostas into the room of Commander Spock with Officer MacArthur as per the evidence of his breaking into the room before the murder occurred."

Bones shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms.

Mendlesson smiled smugly. "But Lieutenant Commander, how could Officer Finnegan have controlled such a highly advanced creature as Slistastostas? There is no possible way that he would have the knowledge to be able to do so with his level of Engineering expertise."

Giotto blinked.

"…I don't know how. But I know he did it," Giotto caught himself just before he said 'sir.'

"If you don't know how he could have possibly done it," Mendlesson was sneering now, "isn't it possible that he didn't do it?"

Giotto sat up, miffed. "But we've placed him at the scene. He's definitely involved in the conspiracy of murder."

"But he didn't do the murdering, isn't that right? Slistastostas did."

To this Giotto had no answer.

Mendlesson smirked. "No further questioning, Your Honor."

Giotto stepped back to his seat with dignity as Mendlesson sauntered back to the defense table.

Fayden barely got out "Prosecutor – " before Uhura had leapt from her seat and cried out triumphantly, "We now call Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott to the stand!"

Hearing his name called, Scotty's ears pricked up. He smiled widely with a buoyant "Aye, lass!" He was in the first row of witnesses, sitting next to Chekhov and Bones, and easily bounced from his chair up to the front of the courtroom.

As he crossed the aisle and handed over his ID, everyone present could see that his red sleeves were stained with oddly colored chemicals. A bright green splotch here, a neon purple glow over there.

With a wink in Uhura's general direction, Scotty took his seat.

The machine rattled off his card information.

"Montgomery Scott. Serial Number: SE-19754-T. Service Rank: Lieutenant Commander. Position: Chief Engineer. Current Assignment: USS Enterprise. Commendations: Decorated by Starfleet Engineers, Award of Valor, Flores Peace Prize of Ingenuity, Interspatial Association Commendation of Honor."

Scotty scratched his nose, embarrassed but still grinning. "Tha's me."

Uhura tried to force down the muscles that were making her smile. She had to look ruthless, but she couldn't do that when Scotty was being so insufferably cute.

"Lieutenant Commander Scott…" She still couldn't quite keep a straight face.

"Jest call me Scotty, then, lass." He winked again. "Twon't do no harm."

Uhura relaxed into a smile. "Right, then… Scotty. Were you involved in the study of the chemical and anatomical makeup of Slistastostas?"

"Aye, tha' Ah was."

"Could you describe your findings?"

Scotty mentally went through an entire database of information he'd gleaned from the experimentation on Slistastostas and catalogued everything into wee little groups.

He leaned forward with eagerness.

"Well. Twas a sight to see. Firs' Ah studied th' Heart, which was a piece of work, Ah grant ye. Actually made me own copy to adjust efficiencies in the Enterprise meself. Impressive little babe, tha.

"Then Ah moved on frum th' basic coronary functions t' th' neural system, an' the connections b'tween th' machinations an' th' signs o' life were quite enlightenin', specially for those who're interested in th' finicky medical sciences an' all, like the good Doctor here." Scotty indicated Bones, who flushed at the sudden attention as the entire audience zoned in on him.

Uhura spoke up. "Did you discover the polar sides of Slistastostas through this procedural experimentation?"

The room focused back on Scotty, eyes flicking back two by two, for the most part. There were some observers with up to eight eyes, but they were in the minority.

"Aye, aye. Tis pretty simple once ye get the chemical complexities sorted out all right. Works jes' laiyke uh machine."

"And were you also able to distinguish what triggered the shifts from one polarity to the other?"

Scotty wagged his head from side to side. "Well, lass… It isn' tha', exactly, then…"

Uhura's forehead creased in confusion. "Then how would you describe it, Scotty?" She sounded genuinely curious.

"Hmm, well. Ah would say tha' the transfusion of mechanical neurons, say, is less a matter o' triggerin' an' more a matter o' proper stimulation through mechanized hormonal activity."

"And what exactly was this controlling hormone?"

"There are two of em, lass. One is the positron and the other is the antiproton. Sudden and massive influx o' either o' these particles results in a shift in behavioral patterns and response mechanisms. Ah believe the spin an' the totality o' combustion result in differentiating particulars within th' subsets o' the behavioral patterns."

Uhura looked a little taken aback. "And how do you know this, Scotty?"

Scotty grinned, as if he'd been waiting for this exact question. "This!" He held up the mysterious cord from the last session, seemingly from nowhere. "Evidence W, if ye'd remember, then."

"Yes, this is one of the objects taken from Engineering by Officer Finnegan."

"Aye, lass."

"Isn't it a Starfleet certified piece of machinery?"

"Nay, i' taint." Scotty held it up even higher. "Tis a piece of alien machinery t' th' Federation. Twas found on an away mission o' some sort and stockpiled inta Engineering storage fer further study. "

"Do you know what it is?"

Scotty cocked his head, considering. "Ah may not knaew wha' it's called by it's makers, but Ah knaew wha' it does jest fahyne. Personally, Ah call it the quasi-varied response power application mechanism, on account o' th' variable method of usin' th' antiprotons n' positrons t' influence th' mode o' th' main drive. Call it th' quavarpam fer short."

Uhura tried it out. "The quavarpam?"

"Aye, quavarpam. Has a nice ring t' it, dunnae?"

"This is the cord itself?"

"Nay, tis the full system o' the cord connected with a wee applicator of antiprotons and positrons."

"Okay, I see. So you're saying that with a quavarpam, someone would be able to control the Slistastostas' mainframe."

"Aye, lass. Or rather, more specifically, th' equalizin' chemo-tronic modulator of the mainframe is controlled directly by tha' quavarpam, which would then control the state of Slistas' positronic net pattern."

"Wait, what is the equalizing chemo-tronic modulator?"

"Ah, well. Tis an algorithmic function in Slistastostas' brain tha' regulates the state of mind and basic net pattern. Keeps the polarities in sync and properly balanced an' all."

"I see. How do you use the quavarpam to affect the modulator?"

"Ye jest connect it t' th' electro-positronic emitter an' th' other side t' th' modulator o' the brain and let either electrons or positrons flow on through it."

"Which tronic does what?"

"Th' antiprotons force th' chemo-tronic modulator into a defensive pattern o' violence an' other basic instincts while th' positrons force it into a purely passive state, as evidenced by the experimentation done on Slistas."

"Is the quavarpam easy to use?"

Scotty scratched his head. "Aye, lass, almost too easy t' use."

Uhura almost snorted through her nose, but managed to keep her composure. "I meant, Scotty, whether or not it is easy for low-level crewman to utilize."

"Aye, aye, lass. Any man with any level of sense could flip a switch from antiproton t' positron. Ah believe th' Loch Nes could do th' trick if given the freedom o' flipper."

Uhura struggled, but managed to avoid cracking up on the spot. Her face was a bit strained nonetheless. "What about connecting the cord to the creature? How difficult is that procedure?"

"Tis as easy as pluggin' uh drain, miss. The port is open t' th' aeir, an' has matching grills with th' quavarpam's cord."

"And how, Mr. Scott, would a low-level crewman with little education on complex machinery be able to implement the directions you describe with alien technology?"

Scotty hemmed. "Ah assume tha' 'e would've had directions frum another source."

"And did any other Starfleet officers officially know of the capabilities of this quavarpam until you yourself discovered its properties?"

"Nay, an' Ah jus' figured it all out today, lass."

"So what would this other source be?"

"Hmm, Ah'd hafta say th' lads tha' made it."

"And since we don't know who made it…?"

Scotty's brow furrowed. "Well, then, lass, we've got uh bit o' uh wee problem, then."

"What is this problem, Scotty?"

"We've got uh supplier o' relatively unknown technology backin' and informin' our wee lad Finnegan. One we're not particularly knowledgeable about, an' tha' has superbly refined engineerin' techniques. One tha' can control an organism laiyke Mr. Slistas without uh hardy bottle o' Scotch on th' line."

"And would there be any clues to finding the creators of the quavarpam that you can clearly distinguish?"

"Nay, lass, naewt frum uh purely Engineerin' perspective. Ah've never seen anythin' laiyke i' before, even considerin' all th' new technologies th' Silver Lady has seen in the past three years."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott. No more further questions."

Scotty sprang from the stand with enthusiasm before sitting back down, realizing that the defense now had the right to question him. Uhura nodded to Fayden, who nodded back. He then turned to Mendlesson. "Attorney?"

Mendlesson looked a bit crumpled in the face, as if he'd been hit in the face with a frying pan that still had a boiling egg in it. He was pointedly staring at his trembling hands, avoiding the killer glare Finnegan was burning into his back.

"No, Your Honor, no questions for the witness."

Uhura hadn't even bothered to sit back down, firmly staying in her position as interrogator. "Your Honor, we now call Doctor McCoy to the stand."

With a sigh, Bones heaved himself to his feet and grumbled the entire way to the witness stand. Which, of course, made Jim crack a smile and nearly snigger, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Doctor Leonard McCoy. Serial Number: R465-258SS. Service Rank: Lieutenant Commander. Position: Ship's Surgeon. Current Assignment: USS Enterprise. Commendations: Legion of Honor, Award of Valor, Twice Decorated by Starfleet Surgeons."

Instead of questioning Bones right away, Uhura addressed the jury. "Doctor McCoy not only has substantial commendations from Starfleet but also impressive medical diplomas from several famous universities such as the University of Mississippi, Johns Hopkins University, and Yale University. On top of all this, he has years of experience in first-response, extreme medical care in several internationally renowned hospitals before his enlistment in Starfleet. After which, he quickly gained high rank and commendations through exceptional work in the medical field for Starfleet."

Bones raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure nobody else got a full rehashing of their résumés. He restrained himself from rolling his eyes for the sake of professionalism, but it looked like he pulled a muscle in his face doing it.

Uhura raised her eyebrow right back, and made a face at him before turning back to the jury. "I would like the court to recognize Doctor McCoy as a reliable medical consultant in this case."

Fayden nodded. "He is so recognized."

"Thank you, Your Honor." She gave a sharp nod in Fayden's direction. "Now, Doctor McCoy…"

"Yessir, Lieutenant, ma'am." McCoy hinted at his Southern drawl because of all the repressed sarcasm.

Giving up a bit of a grin, Uhura responded with a bit of her own laced sarcasm. "Doctor, Lieutenant Commander, sir." With a small sigh, she started on her line of questioning, her eyes turning serious. "The Enterprise has been through its share of difficult medical circumstances, has it not?"

"Yes it has, too many in my opinion." Bones huffed through his nose. "All those diseases we've encountered on random planets, I tell ya…"

"Despite the difficult health conditions of being on a starship," Uhura hastily interrupted before the lecture could properly begin, "the crew is generally in relatively good health, are they not?"

Bones paused for a second, unable to refute this claim. "Yes, well," he huffed. "Despite themselves, they're all kept in check."

"When are there usually influxes of patients?"

"Hmm, well when the crew catches infections from alien planets, the sickness usually passes through everyone like wildfire. Another common time for people to be admitted is during or after an away mission because of an injury. I'd say the common denominator is the unknown planetside."

"And how is the medical response to these disasters?"

"Well, if the communicators are working, an' the beaming thing is working, and every other… machine is operating at full capacity, and the wounded are able to be transported properly to Sickbay, then I'd say just fine."

"So to provide top-notch medical care, you must depend on communications and transportation."

"Yes ma'am."

"How would you consider the conditions on the Enterprise on Stardate 4807, concerning you position?"

"In terms of necessities?"

"Yes."

Crossing his arms, Bones contemplated for a moment. "Heaven knows we'd just gotten out of a situation tougher than tarnation, so we were short on supplies in Sickbay. That wasn't in our favor, though we called in for more supplies after we returned to Earth. The ship itself was fallin' apart when we were after that son of a gun Finnegan, the beamin' thing was all busted an' the communications were shaky."

"Would you say that this was the worst condition for the Enterprise to be in, given the impending injuries you would have to treat?"

"It ain't the worst, Lieutenant. It's never the worst. The only time when I can say that is when I can't treat my patients at all."

"But it was highly unfavorable to, say, the Enterprise in perfect condition?"

"Yes, ma'am, highly."

"So what happened when Captain Kirk was beamed to the Enterprise? What actions did you take?"

"I immediately rushed him to Sickbay, diagnosing him the entire way there." Bones was silent, remembering. "It was so bad I couldn't treat him anywhere else but there."

"How bad was it, Doctor? What were his injuries?"

"They were extensive, believe me." Bones looked up. "After being brutally beaten for about twelve hours, Jim was severely injured in the crash on New Mars by falling debris. He escaped from the crushing pieces of the ship around him by wrenching out his own tibia and using it as a lever. He then commenced, in his injured state, to move about the Sealion in order to procure some form of safety until he could be rescued, aggravating his wounds and inducing a large loss of blood despite a limited attempt at medical treatment. He was then shot right before he was transported onto the Enterprise with Finnegan. The complete medical transcript of his diagnosis is too long to be read here, and is on file with the jury. In effect, one of the most damaged patients I have ever treated that has survived. Had he been transported to me ten minutes later than he was, he would have died."

"And he is here today, is he not?"

"Our very own Captain James T. Kirk, ma'am. He's healed up quite a bit over the past twenty hours."

"Doctor McCoy, from a medical perspective, how can you prove that Finnegan is the perpetrator of violence upon Captain Kirk?"

"His goddamn DNA is all over the place, ingrained into Jim from beating him so damn hard; there are also multiple fingerprints and other chemical signatures that can readily be associated with Finnegan," said Bones gruffly. "The evidence is clear from the medical records that Finnegan done did it, ma'am."

"Thank you, Doctor. No further questions."

"Attorney Mendlesson?"

"…No questions."

Bones sauntered down from the stand to fall back into his place next to Jim. Jim slapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. They had a silent conversation with momentary glances before turning attentions back to the trial.

"Lieutenant, would you care to call another witness to the stand?"

Taking a deep breath, Uhura prepared herself. Her eyes flickered towards Spock, who nodded slowly but surely. "Yes, Your Honor, we would.

"We would like to call Captain James T. Kirk to the stand."

Jim stood easily and with grace, taking his time. The folds of his Starfleet slacks tumbled from creases into a smooth drop, and with purposeful measure, he readjusted his cufflinks in two effortless, stylish motions.

Folding his two hands behind his back in standard Starfleet ease, Kirk began his way towards the front of the court. Step by step, he advanced closer and closer to Finnegan. Each step was a sharp impact on the paneled wood floor, giving off a clipped, refined sound of well-polished boots.

His limp was evident to the entire court.

Kirk took the liberty of inputting his own ID card into the computer.

He finally reached his place in the chair, and just as Kirk sat in the captain's chair on the bridge of the Enterprise, so did he here. The level of respect he commanded was instantaneous and natural, from the way he sat to the look in his eyes.

"Captain James T. Kirk. Serial Number SC937-0176CEZ. Service Rank: Captain. Position: Starship Command. Current Assignment: USS Enterprise. Commendations: Palm Leaf of Axanarpes Mission, Grankite Order of Tactic, Class of Excellence, Presteres Ribbon of Commendation, Classes First and Second, Award of Valor, Medal of Honor, Silver Palm with Cluster, Starfleet Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry, Terragite Order of Heroism – "

Mendlesson shot up. "Thank you, computer, we are all well aware of the great accomplishments of James T. Kirk."

The computer stopped reciting, which was good because it seemed to be running out of breath.

Uhura stared daggers from across the room. "If the Attorney would keep order."

Mendlesson continued. "If it would please the court - "

Fayden banged his gavel. "Please, Attorney. Order in the court." He then looked to Uhura. "Prosecutor?"

"Computer, please continue."

" – Interspatial Recommendation, Qualor's Most Privileged, Accordance of Honor, Particular Memorandum of Consequence, Medal of Conciliatory Respect, Nobel Peace Prize, Key to the Star System Rator – "

"Thank you, computer." Uhura had one hand on her hip and a smug smile across her face. Again, the computer stopped with a wheeze. "This is Captain James T. Kirk, a man who at the age of twenty-five became the youngest starship captain in the history of the Federation, and not only that, but the leader of the very flagship, the USS Enterprise."

She turned to Kirk with a smile that touched her eyes with sincerity. "Captain, how are you feeling?"

His teeth were pearl white as he grinned. This smile was like an animal baring its fangs. "So good I can't believe it was only yesterday. Fantastic. Magnificent. Stupendous."

"That's good to hear, sir."

He inclined his head and closed his eyes, indicating for her to move on with the examination.

"Captain Kirk, could you please recount the events of your capture and torture that occurred from Stardates 4806 and 4807?"

"Certainly, Lieutenant." His hand brushed against his face thoughtfully. "I returned to my quarters at 1800 hours on Stardate 4806 from my shift, where I was directly assaulted by Officer Finnegan and beaten into unconsciousness by premeditated weapons. For an unknown period of time, roughly estimated to be twelve hours, I was ruthlessly beaten by Finnegan. Transportation to the Sealion occurred at the start of the morning shift, at 700 hours, in which I was dragged by Finnegan to the transporter. Once on board, I was bound and placed in a holding bay and left alone. Through my own devices, I was able to cut the bindings, create a communication device to connect with the Enterprise, escape the bay, throw off Finnegan, find ample resources, make my way to the cockpit, and send the Enterprise exact information of my position and the ship's mark and heading. I was, however, unable to change the set mark.

"After the collision, I was trapped under falling bulkheads and shattered stations, and in order to get out, I had to forcefully remove my own leg bone to get my arm free. I took the bone with me as I crawled from the cockpit to a storage unit, in which I set up a strategic base, attempted to give myself medical attention, and waited for further assistance from the Enterprise. Finnegan, however, broke through my defenses and got a shot in before help arrived. Directly after, I was beamed directly to the Enterprise, where my awesome Chief Medical Officer took care of me as he always does."

To let it all sink in, a heavy silence fell. Uhura let it happen, waiting for the perfect time to begin again.

"Captain… Twelve hours of abuse is truly extreme. For what purpose did Officer Finnegan so brutally beat you? Did he have a grudge against you?"

To this, Kirk was stone-faced. "I believe so, yes."

"If I may ask… what happened?"

For the first time since he had been called to the stand, Kirk turned to face Finnegan directly, looking him straight in the eye.

"We were cadets together, Lieutenant…" Kirk stared down at the defense as if he were the divine bringer of justice. "…and the pair of us liked to pull creative pranks every once in a while. We were like… partners in crime." The ironic smile that then graced Kirk's lips was eerily pointed.

Finnegan broke eye contact.

"One day, Finnegan crossed the line. He committed an atrocious act against another cadet. He was charged with a court martial where I testified against him as a witness. He was stripped of his placement, had a permanent mark put on his record, and was put into counseling."

Kirk lowered his hand to the arm of the chair and ceased glaring, instead looking off into the far reaches of his mind. "I had, however, thought his animosity had waned, since he had begun working as a crewman on my ship."

As he gazed downwards into his memory, Kirk's eyes were clouded over with pain and sadness. "But it seems that hatred does not heal so easily."

"Captain…" Uhura seemed at a loss for words, which was to be documented in the annals of history. "…What did you testify against Finnegan to impart such hatred?"

Jim's saddened eyes closed for a moment –

((()))

you betrayed me, you fuck, you goddamn hypocrite, how could you do this to me, we were supposed to be friends, you were the best fucking friend I ever had, and you do the worst thing you can to me, you betray me, and this is all I get, this punishment, and you get nothing for all the shit that you did that I didn't tell nobody, I was good to you, I thought you were going to be good to me too, I can't even tell you how much I hate you, how much I want to strangle you, kill you, embarrass you, how much I can't ever forget what happened here, how much I'll need to explain to my mom, how she'll be disappointed in me for my failure after she worked so hard, after I worked so hard for her to get here, how she'll kick me out of the house, how she'll never lay eyes on me again, how she'll never say she loves me again, how I'll never trust anyone ever again, how you'll just float on by like nothing even happened even though you just ruined my entire life, you, you, you, you betrayed me, you traitor

((()))

– before he opened them once more, wearied but strong.

"He trapped another cadet in solitary for a period of hours before implementing rudimentary auditory torture techniques. The cadet was almost permanently unhinged from the incident."

"How were you aware of the incident?"

"…" His mouth tightened for a moment in hesitation, but his eyes were intent.

((()))

Everything was normal, completely and utterly normal about this situation. It was another weekend to relax, and Jim was taking every advantage he could. The pair of them were at the cadet bar, where they usually went, at the one where they had met almost a year ago. They were at their usual table, drinking their usual drinks, having their usual fun. So why was Jim so on edge tonight? What was setting off his radar?

He looked all around him, checking all the security details: nothing. There wasn't anything different with Jim either; not even a single demerick this week, nothing new. Not even a girl. The only thing that Jim would have preferred at the moment was to have Bones here too, but that usually didn't happen anyway. Jim turned his sensors to Finnegan.

Finnegan's outfit was normal, his drink wasn't drugged, his speech was about the norm. What was it…? Something in his eyes wasn't the same, something was a little more desperate, a little more … than usual.

Then Finnegan earnestly leaned forward, a strange light shining in his eyes, spilling some of his drink on the table, and the hair on the back of Jim's neck prickled.

'Jimmy boy, I did it! I pulled a great one off! All by myself, this time, and I wasn't even suspected. It was the perfect crime. Lemme tell you, this idea was genius…'

((()))

"The next night, Finnegan and I were drinking at a bar, and he confessed the episode in its entirety. After we returned to campus, I researched what he had said, found that it was true, and reported him to the authorities immediately afterwards."

"And the consequences of the trial were severe enough to garner such hatred as this?"

Kirk folded his hands together. "It was the fact that I betrayed his confidence that deeply affronted Finnegan; the punishments were of less consequence, but still of merit."

"Was there any attempt at revenge before he became an officer under your authority?"

((()))

'Jimmy boy, I never figured you for the type.'

'What type? The type that reports crime?'

'The type that sells out their friends for a good name, the type that betrays. But I guess you're just as weak as your batshit, greedy stepdad who would sell out anyone for some reputation points. I can understand why your brother couldn't stand living with you anymore. He knew what you were like.'

'I never figured you for a torturer. But there we have it. You're a sick, twisted bastard with nothing better to do than drive innocent people nuts!'

The first hit came unexpectedly, and it blew Jim back. The blood dripping from his mouth was real, he checked it with his hand. He should have known that this wouldn't have amounted to anything. He'd thought that maybe Finnegan would, well, be normal again, and the two of them could just… go on, like before.

But the Finnegan before him was not the same. The snarl on his face was stretched and feral, nostrils widening and twitching with animalistic fury. There it was again, that gleam in Finnegan's eye. The one that made Jim's hair stand on end.

In solid silence, Jim made a fist.

In a roar of angry words, Finnegan charged.

((()))

"…After the trial, after he was released, Finnegan called me to meet with me. At first it was a discussion that led to an argument, then an argument that led to a fistfight. It was less revenge and more… a parting of ways."

"And when he joined the Enterprise crew?"

Jim's mouth tightened in disappointment. "I thought…"

((()))

He had made sure to stop by this particular crewmember in shift. Jim had personally signed him on as a part of his crew, and now he was going to check on him. That was all it was. A check in efficiency.

The doors flew open, one after another, before Jim was finally on the right deck. His heart was beating through his chest as he neared his target, who was currently curled over a station working on filling out electric forms.

He took a silent breath, watching the figure before him that was completely unaware of his presence, counting down the milliseconds.

'…Officer Finnegan.'

The figure turned, and immediately snapped to attention with a salute.

'Captain!'

'At ease, crewman.' Jim's eyes softened. 'How've you been?'

Finnegan was momentarily at a loss before, 'I've improved a lot since you last saw me, sir.'

Jim smiled. 'Carry on, officer.' He began to leave, and didn't look back.

'Yessir, Captain, sir!'

((()))

"…I thought we had made peace, I really did. But all was revealed when I was taken captive. Years of repressed anger showed that night… Nothing had changed, except that the hate had grown stronger."

His intense gaze moving to the prosecution table, Jim looked to Spock in agonizing desperation, who closed his eyes in understanding. The pain evoked by his memories lifted ever so slightly.

"Captain, was the act of Finnegan to take you captive a betrayal?"

Kirk's ferocious attention was once again Uhura's. Roiling aggression was evident, though controlled, in his frame.

"One of the deepest acts of betrayal is that of a crewman to his shipmates. The trust that is fostered between them is inexplicable in its profundity, and Officer Finnegan took advantage of that trust in order to work his foul designs for some sort of twisted vengeance. As I betrayed his confidence as a cadet for the sake of justice, so he betrayed the confidence of the entire Enterprise for the sake of revenge. His betrayal is so complete, so absolute, that it goes to the core of what the Federation stands for – and that is trust in your companions, morality in all that you do, and love of your fellow man. He has disgraced and damaged the Enterprise, caused harm to its officers, and betrayed the very fundamentals of what it means to be a Starfleet officer."

Kirk's voice rang through the court, punctuating his last statement with vigor, echoes fading into the quiet.

"No more further questions," whispered Uhura, looking up at Kirk with something akin to absolute reverence.

Spock's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and he gave a nod that spoke of finality.

Jim didn't have to nod back. Spock already knew.

Judge Fayden didn't tear his eyes off of Kirk. "Attorney…?" he asked offhand almost disinterestedly.

"…No questions, Your Honor," peeped Mendlesson.

"Captain, you are free to step down from the stand."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Kirk rose majestically, and, limping, made his triumphant return to his chair. All eyes of the court followed his every movement. Bones clapped him on the shoulder this time as he took a seat.

Still dumbstruck, Uhura made it back to the prosecution table, slumping in her chair. She sat back, shuffling her things together with unfocused eyes.

Judge Fayden looked from prosecution to attorney. "Prosecutors…?"

Spock took to his feet. "Your Honor. We would like to call one more witness to the stand."

Fayden waved his hand in acquiescence. "Go ahead, then, Commander."

Spock turned to face the defense.

"We now call Seamus Finnegan to the stand."

There was a sudden undercurrent of chaos throughout the courtroom. Murmurings and shufflings erupted. It died down as the lone figure stood, his back to the audience. Fayden's gavel stilled in its descent. There was no need to call for order; Every single eye was tracing the progress of the blond prisoner.

Around Finnegan was a detail of security officers, keeping him in check. Every single one of them was equipped with phasers, electric cuffs, and a multitude of other defenses. As he made his way to the front of the court, the guards parted to let him through.

Finnegan soundlessly approached the stand, save for his shoes softly clapping on the wooden planks, and with a turn and a fall faced the masses. One of the guards followed him and stood at attention at the foot of the stand.

"Seamus Finnegan. Serial Number: H995-0212K. Currently on Suspension."

Spock had been silent for the entire second period of the trial, waiting for this. Passing behind Uhura, twisting around the ninety-degree corner of the table, and striding up to the stand with a refined, regal air, he began.

"Officer," Spock stated brusquely, "you have been charged with a multitude of crimes. You have pleaded Nolo Contondre. Which of the accusations do you then plea not-guilty?"

Eyes darting back and forth, but finding no way to escape the blunt question, Finnegan licked his lips before responding. "I… argue that I am not at fault for the malfunction and destruction of the Enterprise."

"And you have no other objections, from the theft of Starfleet equipment to the murder of your fellow officer to the capture and torture of your Captain?"

"…No objections, sir."

"So you admit to this court that you perpetrated all of the criminal acts of which you are accused, save for responsibility of the destruction of the Enterprise."

"…Yessir."

"Were you aware before you committed these crimes that they were punishable?"

"Well aware."

"Are you also aware of the severity of punishment for the compilation of your acts?"

"Yes."

"Officer Finnegan, for what purpose did you commit these crimes in full knowledge of their atrocity?"

To this, Finnegan stopped.

"Was it all for vengeance against Captain Kirk? From your times at the Academy?"

Licking his lips, "…Yes – "

BZZZZZZT

The computer started repeating the phrase: "Incorrect. Incorrect. False statement."

For someone who never showed any emotion, Spock looked exultant. Of course, only to those who knew him well. To a stranger, he looked just as emotionless as ever.

"Thank you, computer." The computer's voice stopped. Spock turned back to Finnegan. "Officer, the chair on which you sit is specifically wired to measure your pulse, and detects lies. You have just lied about your intent under oath; do not do so again or you will be held in contempt of the court."

Finnegan desperately looked up at the judge. Fayden nodded his assent to this statement. "If you lie under oath again, Officer, you will be so held."

"…Understood."

"…Officer, I ask again. What was the true purpose for your criminal acts?"

Finnegan's foot began to tensely tap the ground, slow at first but gaining speed in an irregular rhythm.

"Well. Um." He began cracking his knuckles nervously. "I – I'd say that the reason I, uh, assaulted the Captain was because of the grudge."

Everyone looked to the computer, which didn't utter a sound.

"And the rest? What was the purpose of killing Officer MacArthur, using Slistastostas as the murder weapon, and capturing and detaining Captain Kirk?"

Again, there was a long silence.

There was not a single move in the entire court. All of them were focusing too hard on Finnegan to shuffle around or whisper. A pin could drop and still be heard. The quiet was eerie, so the harsh breathing of Finnegan was reverberating.

In his state of agitation, Finnegan bit his lip until it bled, seemingly without noticing.

He was looking across the courtroom, staring intensely.

Spock didn't turn to see what he was looking at. "Officer, please answer the question."

Finnegan came to a decision, calming his thumping foot, slowing his breathing, and wiping the blood from his chin.

He looked past Spock, past Jim, past everyone, and nodded smartly.

Giving the signal.

Spock head whipped around.

Down the long aisle, almost perfectly lined up with the stand, Officer Cheng nodded back.

Spock saw his hands drift to his belt as if it was in slow motion, and draw out two phasers.

Both were flicked on – and glowing red.

Both of the phasers were set to kill.

The spectators were suddenly filled with pandemonium, screaming and trying to push themselves away from the center, to get out of being at gunpoint.

Cheng took off down the aisle, closing in, dashing as fast as he could. Raising his arms as he made towards the center of the court, he aimed for the side of the defense.

The security guards were just figuring out what was happening, struggling to whisk out their weapons.

Cheng shot once, twice – a guard yelled out as he fell back from a hit in the shoulder, another pitched forward from his leg wound.

Two of the guards were in position, and took some shots. By ducking down low behind the sturdy wooden chairs, Cheng avoided the hits and kept moving. He was halfway down the aisle.

Kirk and Spock locked eyes and nodded simultaneously.

Kirk got to his knees, moving smoothly like a cat past people's feet to get nearer to the center. Spock grabbed the prosecution table and upended it for a shield, which Uhura dashed behind.

Giotto was caught behind a wall of panicked people, forced over to the side of the room. He ground his teeth in frustration.

Cheng shot at the guards again – one was hit in the head, killing him instantly, and the other in the hand, making him drop his phaser. He'd already made it to the well, and tossed his second phaser over the bar to Finnegan.

Finnegan caught the gun.

At that moment, Chekhov, Sulu, and Scotty pushed an entire row of chairs into Cheng's side, who crashed to the ground.

As he was on the steps down the stand, Finnegan's phaser finally reloaded. He took out the last security guard next to him.

Kirk reached Cheng, who was struggling to his feet. With a lethal kick followed by a nasty open-handed strike, Kirk first winded him and then crushed his throat. As Cheng crumpled to the ground, his phaser clattered a few feet away.

Kirk dove for it.

Spock snatched a nearby chair and chucked it at Finnegan, who deflected it with a shot from his phaser. The chair was forcefully blown back and shriveled to ashes before it hit the ground.

Judge Fayden stood up and grappled at his side, pulling out a whip from underneath his dress uniform.

Kirk got to the phaser. It was still glowing red, set to kill. He didn't have time to change it.

Spock seized two more chairs, one in each hand, and charged towards Finnegan, who shot at him, destroying both of the chairs.

Fayden unslung his whip, and using his entire body, thrashed it at Finnegan.

The phaser was lashed out of his hands.

Just as Finnegan scrabbled for it, Spock reached him.

Spock dealt justice with a certain impartial ruthlessness, grabbing Finnegan's outstretched hand with crushing force, breaking the bone as easily as snapping a piece of chocolate.

With his other hand, Spock reached up and pinched Finnegan's neck.

Finnegan's head whacked the floor when he collapsed; Spock had made no move to catch him.

Spock stood over Finnegan's body, looming like a fuming, ominous menace.

Kirk flicked his phaser to stun; he contemplated it for a moment before casting it aside. He made his way towards Spock, crossing the well. He joined Spock in standing before Finnegan.

"It's over." Jim stated with ardor, crossing his arms. He turned to the spectators, and held out his arms in a calming gesture. "Everything is now under control. Please, do not panic. If you would, please exit the courtroom."

Bones had his medical bag in hand and was already kneeling by the side of one of the guards; he didn't look up as he said, "I do need capable nurses here. And more medical supplies."

Jim looked around, but nobody moved. "You heard the man – he needs hands and supplies!"

Some of the public tittered, but officers rushed to his aid. There were quite a few nurses in the crowd, most of which belonged to the Enterprise medical teams. Some of them rushed out to get to the nearest Sickbay for supplies.

Bones was soon surrounded by nurses, whom he properly delegated.

Fayden tied up his whip and strung it back on his hip. Kirk reached over the bar to shake his hand and personally thank him.

"You, sir, have great aim with that whip."

Fayden grinned. "I pride myself on it. You're pretty deadly yourself, Captain."

It was Jim's turn to grin. "Oh, I try."

He turned to other matters. "Spock, security."

Spock flipped out his communicator. "Three security details at the main courtroom, immediately. Two for the detainment of criminals and another for crowd control."

Another voice crackled out from the speaker. "Yessir, right away, sir."

He flipped it closed. "Captain, though security is on its way, we must stay here to – "

" – Detain Finnegan and his accomplice in their stead, yes." Jim's eyes took in the entirety of the situation before him. "Ah, Giotto! The perfect man for the job. Get a small team together and make sure the building is secure."

"Yessir." Giotto took off, grabbing two men by their collars and dragging them out.

"Chekhov, Sulu." Jim nodded to both of them. They came over. "I need to know if there are any ships around that Finnegan might have been planning to use for an escape. It might be too much for us to be able to take that ship into custody right now, but we at least can record which one it is. Do what you can to stop it from taking off, but if it gets away that's okay, we'll find it. You know what to do."

"Yessir." Both of them saluted and took off.

"Hey, Scotty," Jim called out, "could you come here for a second?"

"Aye, sir," Scotty was practically beaming.

"From an engineering point of view, how could we increase safety in the courtroom?"

Scotty's brow furrowed. "Hmmm, well. Ah could think o' uh plan to instate measures in reconstruction tha' include proofin' th' seats an' stand from phaser attack, fer one. An' Ah suppose tha' Ah could try t' set up uh frequency tha' could diminish th' intensity o' th' blast within a radius large enough t' fit the courtroom. O' course, th' best way is t' not let anyone save the wee security guards t' have any weapons on 'em, aye?"

"Yeah, it's sort of common sense. Though in this case, it was one of the security guards that was the accomplice… Spock, what do you think of this development?"

"You are referring to the duplicity of the security officer in trying to help Finnegan escape?"

"Mhm."

"It is a disturbing thought that not one, but two Starfleet officers have committed treasonous acts. There could be a number of officers who are complicit within the same group."

Jim bit his fingernail. "It's too bad we never got it out of Finnegan why he did it. That would've helped us a bit to narrow down our options."

"Yes, then we could have connected the conspirators through their common goal, perhaps finding them through a subsequent association."

"Well. We can try to figure it out. As soon as the crew is back on deck, we're having an emergency bridge meeting. We'll brainstorm a bit, try to get something out of all this and plan our next move accordingly."

"Noted."

"For the moment, the only thing we can do is sit tight and keep everyone calm." Jim turned to the jury, and then to the judge. "Judge Fayden, I believe there is no written procedure for this sort of incident. Perhaps the jury should go to make their decision?"

"Yes, I agree." Fayden went up to his place and banged on the gavel. The excess noise of the room dissipated. "The jury shall now assemble. This court is no longer in session. Please make your way to the exits. The jury shall reconvene here when posted."

The public finally flocked out. So did the judge and jury.

Which pretty much left the Enterprise crew in the courtroom.

Jim stared down at Finnegan's inert form. Spock was at his shoulder, looking not at Finnegan, but at him.

"Jim…" Spock's hand, which had been so sure when it was crushing Finnegan, was now uncertainly hanging in the air, stretching out to be put on Jim's shoulder.

As she was sorting through the multiple documents that had been scattered on the floor when Spock had overturned the table, Uhura happened to look up at that moment and see.

"...Spock, I…" Even though he was speaking quietly, Jim's voice cracked. More confident now, Spock's hand landed comfortingly on Jim's shoulder.

She quickly swung her head away, clutching at the PADDs and the pens and whatever else was on the ground. She felt like she'd been spying on or intruding in an exceedingly intimate moment. On accident, she hit her arm on the edge of the table. She stifled a squeak of pain.

From this far away, she couldn't hear what they were saying, and that was good, because she really didn't want to know. Crawling behind the table where nobody could see her, Uhura sat back against the oaken face and let tears pour silently down her face, holding her arm where it had been hit. She didn't wipe them away.

Over Finnegan's limp form, Jim was about to break out in tears as well. "Spock…" Jim faltered in a whisper. "He was a part of my crew."

"Jim…" Spock's fingers curled protectively, pulling the fabric of Jim's shirt taut.

"I trusted him, just like I trust every single person on my ship… I…" Jim squeezed his eyes shut.

"Jim, you are the best captain in the fleet. You are exactly what Starfleet needs in every aspect of leadership. You are… not at fault. For any part of this incident."

Wrenching his eyes open, Jim skimmed the sloping ceiling of the court with his gaze.

"He betrayed all of us, Jim. But you especially."

Jim met eyes with Spock. A small, sincere smile crept up on his face.

His hand came up to his shoulder and clasped Spock's.

One shock-filled millisecond later, both of them were three feet apart, blushing red and green.

On the other side of the room, Scotty was feeling awfully useless. He was one of the only ones without a job, after he'd finished designing a crime-proof courtroom.

"Captain, Ah think Ah'll focus on the Enterprise's repairs naew. What d'ye think?"

"Sounds… perfect, Scotty." Jim was still recovering. "When do you think she'll be up and running again?"

"Abaewt a month, sir, at least."

"How many teams do you need to make it in a week?"

Scotty hemmed and hawed for a bit. "Ah'd say… Five thousand of 'em."

"You got it." Jim pulled out his communicator and started talking to the higher-ups.

Scotty sat down in a chair that hadn't been shot, knocked over, or burnt to a crisp. He pulled out another handy PADD and started to type up instructions for rotating Engineering teams for the Enterprise's repairs.

It was about then that Bones finished up. All of the guards were healed, except for the man who had been shot in the head. There was no saving him. He stood up and walked over to Cheng.

Holding a beeping tricorder over him for two seconds before lowering it was enough. Cheng was dead, and had probably died instantly. Bones whistled. That was one lethal attack Jim had up his sleeve.

"Jesus, Jim, ya killed him."

Jim heard, but he waved it off, busy talking to the head of security.

Shaking his head, Bones moved on to the last person injured – Finnegan. Spock was standing over him like a hawk watching its prey.

"'Scuse me, ya pointy eared bastard, got a patient to check out here," Bones politely intervened.

Spock raised an eyebrow but stepped away.

Bones hunkered down and panned his tricorder over the man. Vitals were all well and good, but Finnegan would be knocked the fuck out for another two hours at least. Oh, and his left arm was broken. Bones pulled out his setting equipment and got to it.

He finished in another ten minutes. "Phew," he exhaled, "There's that. His body's all healed up. Not that I can say the same thing for his mind." He stood and ripped his medical gloves off. "Nurses, use the stretchers on the dead bodies and take them to the morgue. I've called transport, they're probably already outside. When you're finished, get the people who need further rest into the nearest Sickbay."

The nurses rushed off to follow his orders. Bones bent down to collect all his things, packing all of his supplies back into his medical bag.

Spock spotted Uhura standing up from behind the table. She was facing away, but still wiping at her face. He stalked over.

"Lieutenant?"

She was a deer caught in the headlights. "Oh, Spock…" She hurriedly wiped the last of her tears away. "It's nothing."

"Nyota…"

"Really, it's nothing. I'm just glad that everything turned out all right." Suddenly fatigued, she straightened up with a forced smile. "Help me carry these PADDs, will you?"

Spock wordlessly plucked them from her hands.

Jim finally finished his call with a smile and a "Thank you, sir!" He turned back to Scotty. "Well, my wonderful Chief Engineer, you have your teams and as much supply you can ask for. Teams will file in tomorrow morning at 700 hours. Finished with their orders yet?"

"Hmmm…" Scotty typed up the last of it, then leaped to his feet and stretched out. "Aye, tha's all fer naew."

"Great. As soon as the security teams get here, we'll be able to take our leave."

And as if on cue, the security teams stormed through the door. They had had to fight through and control the crowd outside, so they were down to two teams.

"Gentlemen, this man is a criminal and needs to be detained asap." Jim held out his chin. "You have your orders."

And Jim passed through the teams, who deferentially parted like the Red Sea for him. Spock, Bones, Scotty, and everyone else there from the Enterprise followed him out.

((()))

Chekhov stopped in his tracks as he remembered.

Sulu looked back at him in confusion. They were supposed to stop that ship! The one taking off right now!

"Sulu… Ewerysing we said came true! In ze trial!"

Sulu nodded. "Yeah, but we have to run right now and get to the station over there."

Chekhov smirked. "I haff ze prewelidge of choosink your replicated meals for a veek, do not forget!"

Sulu rolled his eyes and pulled Chekhov along. "Come on, let's go stop that ship."

"Da, da."

((()))

Somehow, Bones ended up sitting with Jim and Spock at the dinner table in the mess hall, and right now that was not a good place to be. Damn them with their moony eyes and flirty conversations.

"But Captain – "

"Hey, Scotty!" He desperately called out. "Take a seat."

Scotty was all sunshine and rainbows and happiness, and he sat right across from Bones. "Captain, Commander. Doctor."

"Hey, Scotty." Jim cast a smile and an aside for formality's sake before he lost himself in Spock again.

"So, how's the heart treatin' ya, Scotty?" Bones sawed at his tough steak with a plastic mess hall knife.

"Aye, well. Since then, Ah haven't had any trouble whatsoever."

"Yeah, no attacks?"

"Nay, not a single one."

"No funny business at all?"

"Well, Ah wouldn't quite say tha'." Scotty smiled up at him.

Bones snorted. "A new romance, huh. Keep that up."

"Ye know how it is, Doctor. Caen't help it."

"Well, I dunno if I know that much. I've been able to help a few romances in my humble experience."

"What, but havaen't ye been married?"

"Yes, exactly."

Scotty laughed. "Ah see."

Bones smiled as he switched his concentration to his steak, which refused to be cut. As he continued to saw, the smile slowly fell into a grimace.

"Ah, screw this goddamn steak." He threw his plastic knife on the tray. "Scotty, let's go get us a real meal."

"Aye, Doctor! Real steak!" Scotty looked like he'd been electrified as he shot up to his feet animatedly.

"Seeya, Jim, hobgoblin."

"Later, Bones."

As the pair of them walked to the door, Bones said thoughtfully, "And ya know, I never bought you that drink…"

((()))

End of Part 16

tbc

((()))

Author's note: Whew. That was an experience. Over 13,000 words. Sorry it took so long. Things like life and lack of motivation to do that much work got in the way. But here it is, months later. Sorry about that… but now it's summer! Yayyyy! Free time + boredom = increase in production of fanfiction.

What did you think of my system with the navigations stuff? Good? Because I'll probably be using that for the rest of the story. Just a heads-up. If you ever need to check, it's here. This chapter. Ask me if you want anything confirmed about it.

Ok, so I know this chapter seems like an ending or a climax, but… Um… how do I put this. This is only the beginning. This is just the start of the arc. Amazingly. We have quite a while to go here. I don't even know how many arcs there are… Clearly you see that it ain't over. And believe me, it ain't over til it's over.

Slistas' progress has been sort of left in the dark for awhile, but he's coming back soon.

For this chapter, there was a bunch of actiony stuff – especially that one scene. You know the one I mean. Hope it paid off and wasn't real crappy. This is the first straight, real fight scene in the story with no flipping scenes, and I hope it didn't disappoint. It's tough when so many things are going on at once. Wish I could just make a movie of it; that would be so much easier to communicate.

Uh, so that Kirk/Spock action… yeah. It's way too easy. Way too there. Way too 'shoving its way into my Scones story at every turn.' They are so unbearably cute, those two, and their cuteness infiltrates everything.

Research on this chapter was totally killer, by the way. So. Much. Research. So. Much. Work. So. Much. Laziness. But now it's over and done with, and I have for the most part pieced everything together. Won't have another research-heavy chapter like this one for… well, the rest of forever, probably. (I'm going to take that back in advance.)

Stayed up late to finish this, which wasn't too bad this time. Certainly not an all-nighter. Though, of course, I am definitely writing a really long and involved note, which clearly indicates I am not in my best state of mind, especially because my sentences are leaning towards ramblings.

In any event, hope you enjoyed the chapter, hope you'll stay on for more, and hope you'll review to tell me where I'm going wrong – I'm sure I've missed something.

:D

~happysquid