~ By Laura Cynthia Chambers
A young redheaded woman in a red uniform stood by the captain’s chair as Kirk looked over the clipboard, nodding as he signing it. He handed it back to her and straightened up in his chair as she walked away.
Spock walked onto the bridge and headed for his console, barely glancing at the captain as he passed by. Uhura sat at her console, watching the screen in front of her. Kirk looked up at him briefly before turning to Sulu. “Mr. Sulu, set course for Treano II.” He smiled. “Mustn’t keep Commodore Whaley waiting.”
Sulu pressed several buttons. “Course laid in, sir.”
McCoy entered the bridge, a light smile on his lips, and took his place next to Kirk, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his chest slightly puffed out. Kirk glanced at him. “What’s up with you, Doctor? You look like the cat that ate the canary.”
Spock paused and walked over to McCoy. Peering intently at his face, he frowned in confusion.
McCoy frowned back, flinching as Spock moved closer. “What are you looking at?”
Spock remained passive. “Aside from a slight growth of facial hair that could hardly be considered ‘fur’, I see no resemblance whatsoever between Dr. McCoy and a domesticated feline.”
McCoy grunted. Kirk turned to Spock, a light grin tipping his own lips upward. “I was referring to his facial expression, Mr. Spock. He’s happy about something.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Ah. I see. May I ask what you are so pleased about, Doctor?”
McCoy let his hands drop to his sides. “You may,” he remarked drily. “We have broken a record, gentlemen.”
“Which one is that?” Kirk asked.
“Longest time on shore leave without anyone getting burned, blasted, fried, or beaten beyond recognition.” He held one hand behind his back, holding up four fingers with the other one. “Four whole days.“
“Oh, come on, Bones, it can’t be that bad.”
“Can’t it? Mind you, I’m pretty sure the only reason we even got this far was because you remained topside for the duration.” He crossed his arms and turned away. Spock raised both eyebrows and pursed his lips in a “well, then” face.
Kirk chuckled and leaned over to press the button on the side of his chair. “Kirk to transporter room.”
“Transporter room here, sir.”
“Everyone present and accounted for?”
“Aye, sir-“
“Good. We’re almost a week ahead of schedule and I’d like to keep it that way.”
The transporter officer paused. “Is Doctor McCoy on the bridge, sir?”
The smile melted slowly off McCoy’s face. He backed up one step, then another, shaking his head side to side. “Oh, no…”
“Yes, he is,” Kirk answered.
“Medical assistance is needed here urgently. Lieutenants Berlin and Riley-“
“He’s on his way, Lieutenant. Kirk out.” Kirk turned off the communicator.
“I knew it was too good to be true,” McCoy muttered under his breath as he turned and headed for the turbolift. “What’s that scamp gotten himself into now?” He entered, and the doors shut behind him with a swoosh.
* * *
Captain’s Log, Stardate 7.26.2019: Our scheduled trip to Treano II has been temporarily delayed. Two of my crewmen have returned from shore leave on Yursi with a third unknown party in medical distress. I am confident that this will not have a significant impact on our plans. However…I have been wrong before.
Kirk and Spock walked into sickbay. Both looked surprised as they saw Riley, asleep in a soft chair nearby. His eyelids twitched.
Kirk shushed Spock, who nodded once, and they both moved towards McCoy, who was standing at a small sink. A nearby nurse squirted pink foamy liquid into his hands from a squeeze bottle. Rubbing them together, he scrubbed vigorously and rinsed his hands and arms. She set the bottle down and walked away.
“Doctor?”
McCoy looked up from the sink, shaking his hands. “Just a minute, Jim.” He reached for a blue towel hanging on the nearby rack and dried off with it. Rehanging the towel, he came closer. “I assume you’re here about our new passenger.”
Kirk looked over his shoulder at Riley, who was now slumped over to the right, then back to McCoy. “Where’s Lieutenant Berlin?”
“In there with the Agapean. Hasn’t left his side since we brought him here.” He indicated a private room behind him with a lift of his chin. “Can’t say as I blame her. He looks like he hasn’t had a decent meal in about a year; you can practically count his ribs, Jim.” He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “And that filthy old rag he was wearing looked old enough to be Adam’s coat of skins. There’s a story here somewhere.” He picked up a clipboard and began writing on it. “Other than being half-starved, and a few scratches, he’s pretty healthy. I expect he’ll make a full recovery.”
Spock looked over his shoulder. “Did you say ‘Agapean’, Doctor?”
Kirk and McCoy both regarded him with interest. “That’s right,” McCoy replied, his hand hovering over the clipboard, pen still.
“What do you know about Agapeans, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked, relaxing.
Spock clasped both hands behind his back gazing upward as thought trying to recall. “The first contact with Agapea was made in 2257 by the USS Courage, commanded by Captain Simon Redding. It is a large class-M planet with approximately 4 million inhabitants. There is no formal Starfleet presence there; however, we maintain friendly relations with them to this day. It is a peaceful, agrarian society that primarily uses technology when it is useful to expedite or facilitate labour.”
“Real ‘blood, sweat and tears’ kind of folks, huh?” McCoy asked. He placed the clipboard and stylus down on a nearby table.
“Indeed, Doctor. Your kind of people?” Spock asked.
“You could say that, Spock. It’d sure make life easier. How often do you have to bow and scrape to a carrot patch?” He tipped his head to the left slightly.
Kirk, who had been nodding his head up and down, clapped Spock on the shoulder. “When, Mr. Spock?”
“’When’, sir?” Spock furrowed his brows, staring in Kirk’s direction.
“When am I ever going to ask you a history question you don’t know the answer to?” His hand remained there as he waited for his answer.
Spock looked down at his feet, then back up at the captain, considering this. “I cannot predict the future, sir. But I hope the answer, insofar as the facts requested are relevant and necessary, is ‘never’.”
McCoy’s eyebrows bounced upward in unison.
Kirk smiled. “Good man.” He squeezed and let go.
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