Star Trek:
Phase One
Friends…at First
The morning after the flyover, Senator Mitch Williams used a rare parliamentary rule to demand a re-vote of Mars Mission funding package. The re-vote happened, and this time, Williams voted yes. Partly due to being intimidated by the flyover, but really due to the fact that his mistress, Olivia Cole, threatened to reveal their relationship.
And even in the mid- 21st century, a white-southerner Senator, having an affair with a woman of African descent, was scandalous enough to ruin the Senator's political career, and cost him millions in a divorce settlement. So, rather than face that possibility, he helped the funding measure pass.
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
WORLD SPACE AGENCY TRAINING CENTER
The 118-story high training center in Perranporth England.
Gary Mitchell stepped out of the G-force simulator, his face flushed with a hue of green. He was in the final training preps for the mission to Mars, which was still three months away. The drill instructor was not impressed with Mitchell's training numbers.
The trainer was named Mack Wilson, and he was a retired Marine who came from the south side of Philly. Gary Mitchell came from the north side of Philly, so it was no shock that the two naturally did not get along; at all.
The Space Agency usually hired men, and women, who had retired from active duty, especially Senior Enlisted retirees, such as Mack Wilson, who was a retired Master Chief. It was a well-known fact, through-out time, that Senior Enlisted troops were not easily intimidated by officers.
"You're a pathetic officer," Mack Wilson said. He was a tall and muscular African-American, and was chomping on a cigar as he spoke. It was against the Space Agency's regulations to smoke cigars anywhere on the premises, but no one ever seemed to have enough courage to remind Mack Wilson.
"How the hell you made it this far is a God Damn shame!"
Gary Mitchell stood toe to toe with Mack Wilson. The retired Master-Chief had been riding Mitchell's ass for the entire two month training program. In fact, he rode all of the Mars Mission crew members pretty hard; well, all except for Jim Kirk. Wilson and Kirk got along pretty well due to their shared love of old model Corvettes AND pretty women, old and young alike.
"You need to get your numbers up, slacker, or I ain't gonna sign off on your Physical Fitness sheet!" Wilson barked.
"Well, I only have one thing to say, you mean son-of-a bitch," Mitchell responded.
"And what is that?!" Wilson responded with.
"Change your clothes," Mitchell said with a wry tone in his voice.
"And why would I want to change my clothes?!" Wilson demanded.
Mitchell stared directly back at Wilson, and stood even closer. He hated the man. And, at this point, Gary Mitchell didn't care what would happen. So without further ado, Gary Mitchell, who had eaten a Grand-Slam Breakfast at the local Denny's before coming to the training premise earlier in the morning, opened up his mouth and threw-up all over Mack Wilson's well-polished boots and lower slacks.
"Sorry about that," Gary Mitchell said as he stared at the much startled, and much bigger man, with vomit dripping from his legs.
Three hours later, James T Kirk entered the infirmary of the training complex. He flirted with the nurse on duty, a very attractive lady in her early 50s, and then he followed her directions to Gary's room.
He entered a med-room and found Gary Mitchell, in bed, with a massive bandage/bridge on his nose.
Jim Kirk grinned. "There you go again," Kirk said with humor in his voice, "sticking your nose up someone else's ass."
"Shut-up," Mitchell replied. "Did you bring it?"
Kirk nodded and handed Mitchell a data-chip. It was the latest issue of Penthouse, downloaded in total Hi-def. Gary slipped the chip into the remote control, then turned on the monitor and started to look at the pictures.
"You need to get along better with people," Jim said as he sat in the chair next to the bed. "Even McCoy thinks you're an asshole, and you only just met him two weeks ago."
"You know why I'm an asshole," Mitchell said, not taking his eyes off of the images on the screen.
"Because I beat you out for command, and you're just the XO on this mission to Mars," Kirk said, following Mitchell's train of thought.
Mitchell turned to face Kirk. "Yeah, that's why. You are my best friend, Jim, but we both know that I'm command material. You're just a pocket-jockey. The only reason you got command was because you saved Colonel Pike from that training fire. Knowing you, I bet you started it yourself."
Kirk nodded his head. "Your problem, Gary, is that you scare them."
Mitchell shook his head. "How did I know I would score so high on those Psych-tests? I got lucky."
"Well," Kirk said, "get rested up. I thought it would be cool if we all got together for dinner tonight. McCoy is going to be there, and so is my old friend Nyota. And, if I heard it correctly at the briefing we just had, our new Russian Navigator, Chekov, will arrive later today."
"Great," Mitchell said with a sardonic tone to his voice. "Some drunken old Russian fart. He probably thinks everything of importance was invented by, or discovered by, or written by Russians. Well," Mitchell said, "at least I will know who to go to if I need some Vodka."
"See? There you go again. You just reverted to standard bigotry when describing Chekov," Kirk said as he opened the door to leave.
"Well," Mitchell said, "you'll see Jim; I'm always right about these things. He probably even has a Chessboard, ready to play us at all hours of the day!"
Kirk stepped out of the room, but then poked his head back in.
"Did I neglect to tell you that Chekov's first name is Nadya?" Kirk said with a wink.
"Oh my God," Gary said, finally looking away from the nude photos on the screen, and at Kirk. "That is SUCH a sexy name."
He looked at his own reflection in the mirror, and the very ugly looking bandage/bridge. "Get that nurse in here, Jim," Gary demanded. "Tell her to get this thing off. I don't want to look like a freak!" Gary stopped talking when he realized that Kirk was gone.
Continued…