Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek
They arrived on an open stretch of land a short distance away from an unobtrusive-looking building.
Jim gestured for the others to follow him, and they quickly headed towards the outpost. Jim knew that every outpost had more than one door, so he avoided the main entrance in favor of circling around the back. Fortunately, there were enough trees around to provide them cover from the two guards they could see standing outside the main door.
It took the Captain less than a minute to pop the keypad off and cross a few wires to get the door to open. McCoy just rolled his eyes at the show of skill, but Hendorff looked impressed, and the curiosity in his eyes told Jim that he would likely be on the receiving end of a whole lot of questions once they got back to the ship.
"How did you learn how to do that?" the Security officer asked quietly, as they watched the door slide open soundlessly.
Jim glanced at him and smirked slightly. "Misspent youth," he replied vaguely.
McCoy looked at him sharply, but didn't say anything as they stepped inside.
They made their way quickly down the dimly lit hall, Leonard keeping behind the two trained officers. He had a phaser in his hand, but he was a doctor, damn it, not a security officer. He wasn't trained for combat, beyond the basic courses everyone was required to take at the Academy.
Jim set the pace at quick but cautious; he knew that Scotty had meant what he said. In thirty minutes, whether or not they had finished, they would be beamed back. Jim had his doubts that that idea would work as well as the Engineer hoped – given the transporter issues with this mission, if they were still indoors, the chances of him actually getting a lock on their signals was dim.
He pushed those thoughts to the side for now though; they had a mission objective to complete, and Jim didn't intend on leaving anyone behind but the Klingons.
Knowing the vague layout of the outpost – all Starfleet outposts had the same general blueprint, and Jim had spent a lot of time learning all kinds of facts deemed useless until they were actually needed – he made an educated guess that their best bet was the control room. It was down the main hall and towards the center of the outpost, so the trio of officers headed in that direction, keeping their phasers ready.
But they encountered no signs of life until they neared the control room. A quick glance around the corner showed multiple bodies, so Jim quickly gestured for the other two to stop, as he knelt down and took another look, trying to keep out of sight. There appeared to be four Klingons. A cursory look showed three Starfleet Officers on the floor, all conscious, sporting what appeared to be nothing more than bruises and a few cuts, but Jim couldn't be certain until McCoy looked at them. He wasn't a doctor, after all.
He pulled back again and held up four fingers. Using hand signs, he gestured for McCoy to stay down and provide back up. The doctor didn't look thrilled, but didn't argue. At least he understood the gestures; Command and Security Tracks were required to study hand signs at the Academy, but it was an optional elective for everyone else. McCoy hadn't taken the class, but he had picked up enough from Jim over the years that he could sort of communicate, if necessary. And he could understand orders when given – most of the time.
Hendorff immediately nodded in understanding as Jim motioned for him to take the two Klingons on the right, while he handled the other two.
With a decisive nod, Jim quickly sprung up and cleared the corner, Hendorff following half a step behind.
Jim took down one Klingon before they realized he was there, but the second moved, and his shot impacted the wall instead.
The Klingon was bigger and broader, but Jim was quick on his feet and knew how to make his blows count. He lost his phaser almost immediately when the Klingon landed a lucky hit across his chest, but it didn't keep him down for long. After several minutes of dodging and landing precise hits to the right pressure points, he was rewarded when an upper cut to the solar plexus caused the Klingon to drop.
He glanced over to see how Hendorff was faring, and was just in time to see the Security officer take a hard blow to the chest; he flew backwards and impacted with the wall, sliding down to the floor where he lay stunned – he appeared to be conscious still, but by the way he blinked hazily at the ceiling, Jim didn't think he would be getting right back up.
Hendorff had already managed to take out the third Klingon, so Jim took a running leap and tackled the last one. They wrestled to the ground, and Jim almost had him in a chokehold, before the Klingon threw him back. He slid across the floor and came to a hard stop at a computer console. He forced himself to draw some air back into his winded lungs, and with one final burst of strength, he dove for the phaser he had lost earlier. It was lying half under another console. Jim barely managed to grasp onto it before the Klingon was on top of him once more.
He knew he was in a bad position; the Klingon had the upper hand, and he was still on the floor. He kicked upwards, aiming for the femoral artery, but he missed, and his foot glanced off of the Klingon's thigh. It did startle him though, and he took a small step back. It was enough for Jim to get the phaser up and fire, and the Klingon dropped like a stone.
Jim got himself to his feet, albeit a little shakily, and for good measure, stunned the second Klingon he had taken out, and then the other three once more. Just to be safe.
Once he was sure the Klingons wouldn't be rising any time soon, Jim gestured for McCoy to join them. The doctor did so, looking worried as he observed the beginnings of a bruise across the Captain's cheek, and the way he seemed to be favoring his left side.
But Jim waved him off and indicated the officers on the floor, while he went to give Hendorff a hand.
"Thanks, Captain," the Security officer muttered, wincing as he moved to a sitting position. He obliged as Jim waved a finger back and forth, tracking the movement with his eyes, knowing what the Captain was looking for.
Jim smiled slightly and lowered his hand. "Don't rush it," he advised. "You probably don't have a concussion, but you're going to have a pretty bad headache for a while."
Hendorff glanced at him curiously. "Impacted many walls before, sir?" he asked, a hint of humor inserting itself into his winded voice.
Jim almost grimaced, but he had had a lot of practice at controlling his emotions, so he just shrugged and didn't reply, instead helping the other man stand up. "The stars should go away soon," he said when he saw Hendorff blinking rapidly.
Hendorff nodded, and leaned against the wall, freeing Jim to go check on the officers they had rescued.
McCoy glanced up at him and nodded a distracted greeting. "Nothing too serious," he informed both the Captain and the officers. "Some bruises, a broken nose, and some of those cuts could stand to spend some time under the dermal regen, but nothing that should prevent anyone from walking out of here."
Jim inclined his head, relieved. "Do you want to try standing?" he asked the downed officers while checking his comm. for a timing update. "We've only got a few more minutes before the next beaming window, so we need to get out of here."
The officers glanced at each other, and then nodded and slowly stood up.
"Thank you, Captain," the one on the left said gratefully. "We weren't sure our distress signal got out."
Jim grinned. "The Enterprise lives to serve," he replied cheekily.
The trio of officers shared a look, but Jim ignored it in favor of making sure Hendorff was able to walk, and gestured for all of them to head outside. "The back door," he told the rescued officers. "There were two Klingons at the main entrance when we arrived; I'd like to avoid them if possible."
"How much longer do we have?" McCoy asked, glancing around while keeping an eye on both Jim and Hendorff. The Security officer looked like he was doing fine on his own, but he could probably benefit from a night in Medbay. And Jim had definitely taken a few hard hits. Probably nothing serious, but he wouldn't let the Captain get away with not getting checked out.
Jim glanced at his comm. again. "One minute," he said, quickening his pace.
"And Scott can't beam us out inside?" McCoy knew he couldn't, but he really didn't want to stay down here longer than necessary.
Jim shrugged, glancing around cautiously, just in case they had missed anything on the way in. "He probably could," the Captain hedged, "but with my luck, he'd beam me back a girl or something. I'd rather not risk it."
McCoy rolled his eyes, while Hendorff looked like he didn't know whether or not to laugh, and the three rescued officers just looked confused, but Jim didn't elaborate, as he pushed the back door open, and gestured for them all to step outside.
Sure enough, less than five seconds after leaving the outpost, the swirling of lights surrounded them, and they all disappeared from the planet's surface, reappearing in the transporter room just as the ship rocked once more, likely from the continued defiance of the Klingon ships above the planet.
Jim didn't even give McCoy a chance to demand he follow them to Medbay, as he ran off the transporter pad and made his way back to the Bridge.
Spock immediately stood up from the Captain's chair as Jim entered, returning to his spot at the Science Station.
Jim noted several sharp inhalations upon his entrance, and one Lieutenant who had never worked a shift on the Bridge before – and was therefore not quite as used to her Captain's disregard for his own wellbeing as the others were – put a hand over her mouth as her eyes widened in alarm. But there were more important things than worrying about how bad he looked after taking out the Klingons on the surface, so he ignored his crew's reaction as he came to a stop next to his chair, forgoing the seat for the moment, and focusing on the task at hand.
"Hail the leader," he ordered, knowing without even looking over that Uhura would comply.
The screen blurred a moment later, and then showed the Bridge of one of the Klingon vessels.
Five Klingons were in their field of view, and it was pretty obvious that the one in the center was their Captain.
Jim was all business as he spoke, his expression neutral but there was a thread of steel in his voice. "You have kidnapped Federation citizens and Starfleet officers. At this time we will accept nothing less than your complete surrender."
The Klingon Captain laughed loudly, while the others all showed their amusement in superior looks and sneers. "I do not see how you are going to… what is the phrase you pigs use? Make me?" the Klingon grinned toothily. "Of course, Captain Kirk, I would be willing to negotiate for someone of more… importance."
Jim smirked, switching to Klingon, to the surprise of everyone in hearing distance – both on the Enterprise and on the Klingon vessel. "You've lost your leverage, Captain. We have already rescued our officers, and incapacitated your away team. What has become of your honor? What does your crew think of their disgraced leader?"
The Klingon let out a rage-fueled howl, and immediately cut the connection. A moment later, the three Birds of Prey that had been in their view disappeared.
Jim grimaced and gripped the armrest of his chair tightly, anticipating what would come next. So much for ending this quickly. "Chekov, report."
Pavel swallowed harshly, grimly pushing buttons and trying to get a lock on the enemy vessels. "I cannot find them, sir."
Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by the sudden blast from the left. The ship rocked, and Jim was thankful for his grasp on the chair, which kept him upright, barely. "Shields?" he didn't even look over at the tactical station, trusting his crew to do their jobs, instead focusing on the window in front of him, searching intently for some clue of the Klingons' position.
"Holding at sixty percent," was the reply.
Jim nodded distractedly, and then pointed at a spot off to the right of the window. "There. Two o'clock."
Chekov looked, but he couldn't see anything.
Jim could sense the confusion, and elaborated, "Look for what isn't there."
Chekov frowned, but went back to studying the stars. What was Jim talking… "Oh!" he immediately pushed a few buttons and fired several shots at what he could now see as an odd gap between the stars. It wasn't easy to catch, but there was a slight distortion at the location Jim had pointed out – a larger-than-normal space between groupings of stars.
The Klingon ship took the hit full-force, and immediately became visible as it listed to one side and started to fall. One more hit took them out completely, and Chekov's reflexes proved to be up to the task as a second Bird of Prey de-cloaked on their left; he took them out before they even had a chance to fire.
The third ship appeared to have had enough, and beat a hasty retreat.
No one on the Bridge relaxed, however, as Jim glanced over at the tactical station. "Scans?"
Carol turned around and nodded slightly. "We're alone, sir."
Jim inclined his head, and smiled slightly. "Nice work, everyone."
That was the cue for the rest of the crew to settle down slightly, though not completely letting down their guard, just in case the Klingons returned.
Jim took in a deep breath and let go of the armrest of his chair, straightening up. Years of practice kept him from showing his discomfort at what he knew to be several bruised ribs – well, one might be cracked, but since none were outright broken, he dismissed the pain. Klingons really knew how to throw their considerable strength behind their blows. Bastards.
Spock frowned minutely, but didn't comment. He was getting better at reading his enigmatic Captain, and if he were completely human, might have prided himself on being able to tell when the man was hiding injuries. But he wasn't, so instead, he just clasped his hands behind his back in a resting position, and questioned, "May I enquire as to where you learned to speak Klingon, Captain? Your accent appeared to be indicative of a native, though I will of course not claim to retain any knowledge of the language, not possessing the ability to converse, myself."
Everyone else on the Bridge looked interested as well. As far as they knew, the number of non-Klingons who could speak the language fluently could be counted on one hand.
Jim just shrugged. "A friend taught me a long time ago," he replied evasively.
It didn't answer the question satisfactorily for anyone, and Uhura was even more intrigued. The last person she knew of who had commanded such a level of control of the Klingon language had been Hoshi Sato. And as far as she was aware, the distinguished former Starfleet officer had died somewhere around fifteen years ago. She had been attempting to teach herself, but without a real instructor at the Academy, it was a slow process. Maybe Jim could help her?
Carol cleared her throat, interrupting what could have turned into an inquisition. "Now that the danger is over, Captain, perhaps it would be a good idea to submit yourself to Doctor McCoy's ministrations," she glared at him pointedly.
Jim almost protested, but knew better than to question Carol when she looked at him like that. He might be the Captain, but she could be very creative in her punishments whenever he did something she deemed as stupid. And it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to get the cracked rib fixed up.
With a resigned sigh, he rolled his eyes and turned back to Spock. "You have the con. If anyone needs me, I'll be in Medbay."
He left the Bridge, heading down to Medical, hoping to get checked out quickly and be back in his chair before too long.
McCoy met him near the door, seemingly waiting for him – Carol must have informed him that Jim was coming down.
"They're all fine," he informed the Captain brusquely, leading him over to an empty biobed. "Hendorff's fine as well. I'm keeping him overnight just in case, but it's really just a broken rib and being stunned from hitting the wall. No concussion."
Jim nodded slightly. "Good." He hadn't thought there were any serious injuries, but it was nice to know for certain.
"Now, about you," McCoy held up a tricorder, staring intently at the screen as he waited for a diagnosis.
Jim felt like rolling his eyes, but managed to restrain himself. He knew that McCoy just worried about him. It could get annoying sometimes, but it was nice to have friends who cared. And a girlfriend who wasn't afraid to call him out and demand he look after himself every now and then.
Sure, it could be irritating on occasion – Jim had been taking care of himself his entire life – but if he was being honest, he knew that he didn't always do the best job. Sometimes he just got so caught up with everything else, he forgot about himself. So it was probably good that there were other people around ready to step in when he fell short.
So Jim waited patiently for McCoy to finish. After a minute of terse silence, the doctor sighed and lowered the tricorder. "One cracked rib," he said gruffly. "I'll set you up under the regen, and then we'll see about dealing with your face."
Jim raised an eyebrow, and McCoy huffed, reaching over to pull out a mirror from the table next to the bed. He handed it to the Captain, and Jim grimaced as he took in all the evidence from the fight with the Klingons.
There was a very noticeable bruise under his left eye, and a nasty gash over his right. Another bruise spread out from his jaw down to his neck, and a cut on the bridge of his nose was still bleeding slowly. No wonder everyone on the Bridge had reacted so strongly.
He handed the mirror back and settled into the bed to wait.
McCoy almost felt his jaw drop. "No arguments?" he asked incredulously.
Jim shrugged. "I figure you probably know what you're doing," he replied impishly, grinning at the man's sudden indignation.
"Know what I'm doing, of course I know what I'm doing…" Leonard's voice trailed off as he wandered away to get the osteorenerator, but Jim still caught a few words. "Goddamn doctor… bloody infant… insufferable…"
Jim's grin widened as he lay back further.
XXX
It took a little over an hour for McCoy to release Jim from his clutches. It probably wasn't nearly as long as the doctor would have liked, but Jim needed to inform the Admiralty and file a report, so it was with reluctance that McCoy let him get back to his job, as long as he promised to take it easy for the next few days, while the bruised ribs finished healing.
Jim promised, and quickly left Medbay before the doctor could change his mind.
When he returned to the Bridge, Spock informed him that he had already sent a preliminary report to Starfleet Headquarters, and Admiral Archer had requested that Jim comm. him at his earliest convenience.
Without even asking, Uhura immediately put in a call to the Admiral, hiding a knowing smirk when Jim glanced at her. She knew how to do her job.
Jim just smiled amusedly and waited for the call to connect.
It did so a few seconds later, and Jon raised an eyebrow at the fading bruise on Jim's cheek. "Please tell me the other guy looks worse," he commented dryly.
Jim shrugged. "I had him on the ropes," he replied offhandedly.
Archer rolled his eyes. "Admiral Komack has other obligations right now, so I'll take your report. I'm assuming by the preliminary report Commander Spock sent, the rescue was a success?"
Jim nodded, and concisely detailed their actions, from receiving the distress signal, to rescuing the officers on the planet.
When he finished, Jon inclined his head. "Good work," he praised, before looking over at Uhura's station. "Lieutenant, transfer this call to the Captain's Ready Room."
Uhura complied immediately, and Jim levered himself out of his chair with an inaudible groan. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared into his Ready Room, to find Jon waiting for him on the screen.
Dropping all formality, Jim jumped up so that he was sitting on his desk, leaning back slightly as his hands propped him up. "So what didn't you want to say in front of everyone else?" he asked curiously.
Jon rolled his eyes again. Trust Jim to be perceptive like that.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Where's Komack, really?" he asked, interested. "Did you stuff him in a closet or something? Oh, don't tell me, you killed him and you and Richard hid the body together. Was Chris there? Why couldn't you wait for me? I would have been happy to help."
Jon groaned and held up a hand to forestall what was sure to be an amusing tangle of speculation.
Jim grinned. "Come on, Jon, you've got to admit, it could happen."
Jon shook his head exasperatedly. "If I ever need someone to hide a body, I'm sure you'd be more than willing to help. Komack's in another meeting. I told him I'd take the report so that you could get it over with. He wasn't pleased, but he didn't try and protest – too much, at least." He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "You did a good job, Jim. I'm glad no one was seriously injured. As for the officers you rescued, drop them off at Starbase 231 as soon as you can. We'll have transportation waiting to get them back to Earth. I'll send a team to assess the situation on Gamma Hydra IV, and determine whether or not we should re-staff the outpost."
Jim nodded slightly. "Tell the team to be careful," he said soberly. "We left six Klingons down there, and I don't know if the last ship picked them up before it left orbit."
Jon inclined his head. "Thanks for the warning," he replied, a hint of a smile in his voice even though his expression was serious. "Seriously though, you did good kid."
Jim determinedly did not blush in embarrassment. Jon recognized his discomfort with the praise, and wished he could do something to fix that, but knew it wasn't likely to happen. Jim had spent too long being treated as a waste of space by too many assholes that should have cared for him and told him every day how amazing he was. He had thought things were getting better, but maybe that was just with Chris. Jim always seemed to be OK taking the compliments from the younger Admiral. It was probably a trust thing, or maybe Jim looked at Chris as a sort of father, the same way Chris saw Jim as a son.
After a moment of silence, Jon just sighed and shuffled a PADD around his desk. "I'll let you get back to your job, and I should get back to mine. But do me a favor and let that doctor of yours fix you up, all right? You look like crap."
Jim grimaced and raised a hand to lightly touch the large bruise on his cheek. "I did," he protested. "And he's not my doctor. My CMO, but he doesn't belong to me."
Jon chuckled. "He's yours as much as you're his. You know he was courted for a lot of positions after the Narada, right?"
Jim shrugged with one shoulder, his expression conveying interest with just a hint of confusion. "Yeah, well, he's a great doctor. Makes sense a lot of people would want him on their staff."
Jon nodded exasperatedly. "He turned down everything, point blank. Wouldn't even consider the offers to direct a medical center at two of our satellite campuses, or the CMO position on five other ships. He turned down the lab positions in two research facilities, and a spot on staff at Starfleet Medical. I asked him why, when he outright refused as soon as I informed him of the multiple requests for his abilities. He told me that he already had his spot." Jon coughed, almost hiding the chuckle as he added, "There was also something about how you'd manage to kill yourself in some gruesome and peculiar way if he wasn't there to pull your ass out of the fire. Interesting change from his entrance evaluation, when he specifically stated that he would prefer to be placed somewhere on solid ground, after graduation."
Jim definitely blushed now, though he was surprised to hear that Bones hadn't even considered other offers. He hadn't even really asked him to be the CMO on the Enterprise. It had just been an undeclared agreement. He hadn't realized how many other offers the doctor had had at the time, both on planet and from more established ships, even if the Enterprise was the flagship. "He's a good friend," the Captain said softly.
Jon smiled. "He is," the Admiral agreed. "And I know it reassures Richard, Chris, and myself that he's up there watching your back."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Jon. Your confidence in me is inspiring." He jumped off the desk and fixed his shirt, which had started to ride up slightly, just enough for Jon to catch a glimpse of a fading bruise on his hip. "I should get back to work. We'll talk later."
Jon nodded quickly. "Sure thing. If I don't get back to these reports I probably won't be going home tonight."
Jim grinned cheekily. "You better finish then, or Richard might be upset. You know how he gets when he has to sleep alone." He signed off to Jon's spluttering denials, laughing quietly to himself as he rejoined his crew on the Bridge.
He knew they were curious about his humorous attitude, but he didn't offer up any explanation as he took a seat and relayed Archer's orders to drop the officers off at Starbase 231.
"ETA twelve hours thirty minutes," Sulu informed him after laying in the course.
Jim nodded. "Sounds good. No need to push anything, Sulu. Let's make sure Scotty has enough time to fix and illegally upgrade everything in Engineering before we get to a Starbase that will make him document everything."
Sulu and Chekov laughed, while Uhura and Carol hid their smiles, Spock raised an eyebrow in apparent fascination, and the rest of the crew pretended not to hear.
Jim just smiled good-naturedly and sat down to wait out the rest of Alpha shift.
I've got this idea of awesome bromance between Archer and Barnett. They're not a couple in this story, they're just really good friends. In my mind, they've probably known each other since at least the Academy, maybe even as kids and teenagers, who had dreams of enlisting together and serving together. So they've just been best friends, practically brothers, for many decades.
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