Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Star Trek TOS: Ruse - Chapter Eight "A Lot of Time to Kill" (standard:Fan Fiction, 5094 words) [9/10] show all parts
Author: KirkAdded: Aug 12 2006Views/Reads: 2566/1904Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The long trip back is anything but 'uneventful'.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

himself ale from his private stock. He admired its deep blue color and 
thick head. He took a sip and found himself wanting companionship. The 
last time he was on the bridge, he had noticed a lovely young officer 
at weapons control. Maybe she would like to have a drink with her 
Commander. Of course, she was under no obligation, but it wouldn't hurt 
her career to join him. He contacted Pok and asked him to send the 
invitation. He took another sip and reread the report. Soon there was a 
chime at his door. He pushed a button to open it, and there stood the 
pretty young thing in a lovely adorned robe. Yes, all was indeed well. 

*** 

ENTERPRISE: 

In the officer's lounge, Spock sat alone in contemplation of a move on a
three-dimensional chessboard. He liked playing against the computer, 
especially since he had incorporated new strategies from the chess 
master on Rigel IV. It served to help take his mind off of the looks of 
accusation that he continually received from the crew, following the 
revelation that Vulcans and Romulans were cousins. 

Spock had not made any new friends after Pike had left the ship and the
command crew had changed. He had grown close with Pike after serving 
for nearly a dozen years with him. He missed the seriousness of Pike, 
something his new Captain seemed to lack. Spock had trouble getting 
Kirk's sense of humor. He was never sure when he was serious or not. 

He also found it difficult to hold a conversation with Mr. Scott.
Scott's insistence on using misdirection and exaggerations made 
conversation almost impossible. He was a more than capable engineer, so 
Spock avoided confrontation. 

Sulu confused him with his constant switching of stations and duties.
One week it's botany, the next it's life sciences, and then bridge 
posting again. He endured it, because Sulu was a brilliant officer, and 
could be counted on to be a major advantage during a battle on the 
bridge. 

Finney was a bit of an enigma to him. He could not figure why he
accepted assignment on the Enterprise. He had read the Lt. Commanders 
jacket when Kirk requested him for his total knowledge of ships 
functions. By all rights, Ben Finney should be a ship's Captain, 
whether a Starship or not. He had noted the reprimand that Kirk had 
placed against him several years before. It amazed Spock, how even the 
smallest and insignificant smudge on one's record can hold back a 
person's career. 

He enjoyed the company of Lt. Uhura. In fact, if it were not for the
fact of the difference in rank, he more than likely would seek her out 
for friendship. Her jacket revealed that she had taken command training 
at the academy, but chose communications upon graduation. It was 
rumored that she could dismantle and reassemble her Comm board 
blindfolded. Spock didn't doubt it. Her calm beauty and seemingly 
laid-back approach to her duties made her a bit of a mystery to him, 
until speaking with her one day in the lounge. She was as intelligent 
as any person he had met, and found the analogy of her being ‘silent 
like a fox' most apropos. She quietly took in everything that was going 
on around her. She listened and analyzed most efficiently. She only 
reacted when needed, and then most effectively. She was even known to 
break codes in her head. Her biggest draw back was that she was human. 
That lent to all the silly little emotions that human females seem to 
endure. But, he did enjoy her lovely singing voice, and tried to attend 
every time she sang in the lounge. 

Dr. McCoy was a totally different matter. His continual illogical
arguments made his head hurt, not to mention the noxious injections he 
had to endure in the name of ‘good health'. Spock couldn't remember 
anything he had ever said or done in the doctor's presence that didn't 
invite criticism or insults. Many of them happened right in front of 
the Captain, and Kirk ignored it. Spock had noticed that McCoy did the 
same with Kirk, but they were friends and could be construed as 
‘playful banter'. Dr. McCoy was not his friend. 

Spock became aware of a person standing behind him. He swiveled the
chair and there stood Kirk. 

“How is the game going?” asked Kirk. 

“I am down two pawns and a knight,” replied Spock, surprised that Kirk
would even care. 

“I think the computer has mate in three,” said Kirk, as he strolled over
to the wall unit and ordered a chicken sandwich and coffee. 

Spock took a new look at the board and realized that Kirk was right. “I
resign,” said Spock to the computer, and turned over his king. Kirk got 
his tray and sat down across from Spock. Spock regarded Kirk a moment 
and then asked, “Do you play, Captain?” 

“Spock, we're alone and off duty. You can call me Jim,” said Kirk, with
a mouthful of sandwich. Spock thought about it. He liked keeping things 
formal, but Kirk had asked to call him Jim on many occasions before. 
Now that they were on a mission that could mean their deaths, maybe it 
was time to rethink that philosophy. 

“Do you play, Jim?” 

“Yes, but not often. Most people don't like to be soundly beaten,” he
replied, almost incoherently with a full mouth. 

Spock considered this and reset the board. “White or black?” 

“White,” Kirk said, as he swallowed the last of his sandwich. 

The game commenced. Kirk made a few standard opening moves and then
things went crazy. He made increasingly illogical moves as the game 
progressed. Soon he was down a pawn, a bishop, a knight and was about 
to lose his queen. Kirk ignored the queen and moved the other knight. 
The look on Spock's face went from blank smugness to having his 
eyebrows disappear in his bangs. 

“Checkmate!” said Kirk, as he finished his coffee. 

The door to the lounge opened and in walked McCoy. 

“Bones, I just beat the pants off of Spock in chess.” 

“Don't tell me you've become a walking computer too,” drawled the
doctor. “Well, Spock, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

“He played in a most illogical fashion,” said a stunned Spock. 

“Of course he did. We incorrigible, barbarian humans can show glimpses
of genius too, Spock. The universe isn't logical, only Vulcans are.” 

Spock regarded this. Maybe in some occasions, using logic is not the
best way to handle things, especially when humans were involved. He 
remembered several instances of his human mother saying and doing 
incomprehensible things, but the end result always seemed to be 
positive. Otherwise, why would his father have married her? 

“Want to have a go with me, Spock?” asked McCoy. 

His first reaction was no, but the Captain was there and he didn't want
to be unsocial with his friend. He motioned for the doctor to set up 
the board. Ten moves later, Spock said, “Checkmate.” 

“Hell, Spock, you could have toyed with me a bit, at least have let me
get a few pieces out!” 

Kirk stifled a laugh. Spock just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head,
waiting for the doctor's indignation to pass. 

“All right, two out of three,” said McCoy. 

A few minutes later... 

“Three out of five.” 

A minute more... 

“Screw it, I'm out of here,” said the doctor, as he rose and stormed out
of the room, knocking over his king. 

“Boy, you don't mess around, do you Spock?” asked the Captain. 

“Vulcans never ‘mess around'.” 

EXCALIBUR: 

The investigation into the poisoning of Komack was progressing slowly.
After a briefing with Lt. Malloy, she knew that ten people were known 
to have had access to the meal that was served to Ben. All ten seemed 
to be completely innocent. Diaz contacted the records department and 
ordered a background check on every crewmember and their family, going 
back five generations. She knew it was a long shot, but someone 
poisoned the Admiral, and it wasn't a suicide attempt. 

************ 

Captain's Log, Stardate, 1737.1, we have been on course to Earth for
nearly a week. I don't know if we have passed the Romulans or if they 
are still days ahead of us. We can only speculate as to how much their 
cloaking device drains their engines. For all we know, we could be 
passing them right now. 

*** 

VICTORIOUS: 

Turvan was asleep when there was a signal for him from his Comm. He
reached for the button, careful not to disturb the young weapons 
officer. “Yes?” 

“Commander, please come to the bridge,” answered Sub-Commander Pok. 

Turvan closed the channel.  There was no need to question him. Pok never
disturbed him during his sleep cycle unless it was extremely important. 
He also knew that time was of the essence from the sound of his voice. 
He put on a robe and headed to the bridge. 

Pok and several officers were staring into different readouts and having
quiet conversations amongst themselves when the door to the bridge 
rolled open. 

“Report,” snapped Turvan. 

“Commander, there seems to be a reflection on our sensors that does not
match one of our ships,” said Pok, while peering into his viewer. 

Turvan placed his hand on the arm of one of the junior officers in a
silent request to allow him to see. The officer moved away and thumped 
his chest in salute. Turvan peered into the viewer. He could not tell 
the difference, except there did seem to be one more refection than 
before. That was not, in and of itself, proof of anything. While the 
cloaking device was operating, one ship may appear as twenty. Even 
their own ship might become a blip. 

“What makes you think it is not one of ours?” asked Turvan. 

“We have been watching this reflection for the last few cycles. It is
moving faster than we are,” stated Pok. “Even now it is overtaking us. 
It may still be a reflection, but none of us has seen one do this 
before.” 

“Is it an Earth ship?” asked Turvan. 

Pok shook his head slowly. “I cannot give you an answer, Commander.” 

Turvan already knew what the answer would be. He just hoped that somehow
Pok could tell. Turvan had planned on ordering the cloaks dropped when 
he woke today. He couldn't risk that now. If that was an Earth vessel, 
warship or not, if they decloaked to fire on it, it could send a 
message warning of their presence. 

“I'm afraid our trip is going to take longer than I planned. Continue to
monitor the reflection and notify me of any change,” said Turvan, as he 
slowly turned and left the bridge. 

*** 

ENTERPRISE: 

Chekov was just coming off duty, and was heading to the gym. Things were
getting boring at weapons control and he had wished the Captain would 
invite him back to the bridge. As he reached the door, it opened and 
Sulu plowed right into him on his way out. 

“Sorry,” they both said in unison. 

“Chekov, right?” said Sulu pointing at him. 

“Yes, Mr. Sulu,” he replied. 

“I've heard a lot of things about you, Ensign. Most of them good,”
chuckled Sulu. 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“What are you planning on doing here?” asked Sulu, in all politeness. 

“I really don't do anything. I come to vatch the girls,” answered
Chekov, as he shrugged his shoulders nervously. 

Sulu stared at him a moment and started chuckling again. “Have fun,” he
said, as he slapped the Ensign on the back and walked away. 

Chekov entered the gym and noticed a few women practicing self-defense.
He walked over and sat down on the edge of the mats. One by one, each 
showed the others a move that they had learned. Chekov was infatuated 
with a petite blond that looked like she couldn't punch her way out of 
a paper bag, but was flipping women twice her size. Just as his 
imagination was really kicking into high gear, he felt a tap on his 
shoulder. He looked up. 

There was a beautiful woman in gym attire looking at him. “Come to watch
the girls, Ensign?” 

Chekov jumped up to attention. “Yes, Ma'am, I mean no Ma'am, I mean...” 

“At ease!” said Uhura. Sulu had informed her of Chekov's plans for the
early evening and she couldn't resist coming down for a little fun. She 
circled the Ensign, looking him over. “I bet you think you could beat 
these girls in their own games here, am I correct?” 

He answered without thinking, “Of course.” He cringed as the words left
his mouth. 

She continued to slowly walk around him. “Do you think you could beat
me?” 

He swallowed hard. “I don't know, Ma'am.” 

“You don't know?” She gently reached out her hand and held his. “Let's
find out,” she said softly as she gently pulled him out to the center 
of the mats. The other girls hurried to the side, knowing exactly what 
going to happen next. 

“This is what women that are being ogled by men feel like doing,
Ensign.” She snapped his arm around and the next thing Chekov knew, he 
was flat on his back. She stepped over and placed a foot on his chest. 
His eyes were wide open in astonishment. The girls giggled like crazy. 
“Want to try again?” 

Chekov nodded. He had been caught by surprise on that move. This time he
was prepared to defend himself. He stood and assumed a defensive 
stance. 

“This is a self-defense class. You're supposed to be attacking me, not
the other way around,” said Uhura, with her hands on her hips. 

“Oh,” he said, as he smiled a nervous smile, and put on his worst
war-face. He crouched, lowered his head, and charged. “Aaaaahhhhhhh!” 
he yelled, as he went after Uhura. 

Uhura stepped aside, stuck out her foot and tripped him. Chekov sailed
though the air, landed on the bare floor past the mats, and slid all 
the way to the open door. He opened his eyes and in front of him were a 
few pairs of boots in the doorway. He looked up. 

McCoy was snickering, Sulu was grinning from ear to ear, Kirk stood with
his hands on his hips, and Spock just stared down at the hapless 
Ensign. 

“That was sad,” said Kirk, shaking his head. “Watch and learn,” he said,
as he stepped over Chekov and stood by the mats. Chekov propped himself 
up on an elbow and watched as Kirk removed his boots and stood opposite 
Uhura, bowing slightly at the waist. She returned the gesture in kind. 
Kirk made his move and quickly found himself face down on the floor 
next to Chekov. Sulu started laughing himself silly. 

“That was very graceful, Jim. I almost believed a man could fly,”
snickered McCoy. 

“Yes, if there were a category for ‘hang time' that would be worthy of
consideration for first place,” stated Spock, much to everyone's shock 
and delight. 

Sulu stopped laughing, looked at Spock's deadpan expression, and started
laughing even harder. McCoy, startled at Spock's observation at first, 
went wide-eyed in response and slapped Spock on the back. 

“I couldn't have said it better, Spock,” he said, between outbursts of
laughter. 

Kirk looked at Chekov, who was trying desperately not to laugh. “I think
we've been set up, Ensign.” 

Uhura was still standing on the mat. “Who's next?” 

************ 

Later that evening, Spock reached the Captain's quarters as requested.
He pressed the chime and the door slid open. Inside were Dr. McCoy, 
Finney, and Mr. Scott as well as the Captain, seated at a table playing 
cards. They were obviously drinking. 

“Pull up a chair, Spock,” drawled McCoy. 

Spock sat in a chair between Mr. Scott and McCoy. 

“This is poker,” said Kirk. “You've said that you wanted to learn it, so
now's a good time.” 

“Have a snort, Spock,” McCoy said, handing him a bottle of Bourbon. 

“No thank you, doctor. If something were to happen onboard, one of the
command crew should be sober,” stated Spock. 

“Go ahead Spock, I don't drink,” said Finney, while tossing a few chips
on the table. “I'm in.” 

The others all mumbled the same and tossed in their bets. 

“Is there a glass that I could use?” asked Spock. 

“Oh for the love of... Just take a snort!” snapped McCoy. 

Spock smelled the liquor and then took a small sip. 

“Well?” asked Kirk. 

“I do not imbibe much...” he paused, “...Jim, But, I believe this is
most palatable.” 

“He likes it,” said Scott, as he took a swig of his own scotch. 

“Fancy that,” said Finney. “I figured him to turn his nose up at it.” 

“Will wonders never cease? First Spock cracks a joke and now he's
drinking Bourbon,” drawled the doctor. 

“And soon playing poker,” quipped Kirk. “Okay, Spock, these are the
rules...” 

Three hours later... 

“I'm done,” said Scott, as he grabbed his bottle and left. 

“Yeah, me too,” said Finney, as he stood and left. 

“Jim, I knew it was a bad idea to invite Spock. I lost three hundred
credits to him,” sneered McCoy. 

“It was your idea, Bones. Besides, I'm down four.” 

“Thank you, gentleman, for a most pleasurable evening,” said Spock, as
he took one last sip, collected his credits and left. 

“I can't stand a graceful winner,” groused McCoy. 

************ 

Captain's Log, Stardate, 1739.0. We are now roughly two weeks into our
journey. Radio silence has been maintained since the second day of the 
trip. Only the most urgent need to communicate is justifiable to break 
it. The crew has done an excellent job of keeping the ship in top 
condition during the journey, but they are starting to get restless. 
I've ordered Sulu to initiate combat drills at least once a day to keep 
them focused. 

*** 

EXCALIBUR: 

Carmela was going over a very large report that Records had sent to her.
She liked being able to look over reports on paper, even though it was 
also sent in data form to her console as well. She had been at it for 
two hours already, but nothing jumped out at her as a red flag. She 
leaned over to her terminal and asked for a surname search. “Working,” 
replied the computer. “Show me a list of all the names and the number 
of times they occur.” The list appeared on the screen. It wasn't much 
help. “Cross reference with the names of known Romulan sympathizers 
from a hundred years ago.” A list with four names appeared. “Now check 
for blood relationship.” One name remained. 

“Shit.” 

ENTERPRISE: 

Kirk was pulling the graveyard shift. Something he did, once and a
while. He had invited Chekov back to the bridge to give him more 
exposure. It was a voluntary assignment for him and the young Ensign 
jumped at the chance to be on the bridge with his Captain. There were a 
whole bunch of fresh young faces on the bridge, trying to impress their 
Captain. Kirk had read every jacket of each and selected them straight 
out of the Academy. 

“Captain, I'm receiving a Priority One tight beam message from the
Excalibur. It's marked for your eyes only,” stated a young Ensign. 

Kirk was going to take it right there, but thought better of it. “Send
it down to my quarters, Ensign,” he said, heading to the turbo lift. 
Another junior officer took over the chair from the science station. 
“Chekov, why don't you make a check of weapons while you're on this 
shift. They won't expect you. It will give you a chance to scare them 
out of their wits.” 

Chekov joined Kirk on the lift until Kirk got off on his deck. Chekov
continued on to weapons. 

Kirk was hoping that the news wasn't a death notice about Komack.
Perhaps the perpetrator was caught. The lift doors opened and he jogged 
to his quarters. He opened the channel. “Kirk here.” 

“Jim, I think we may have a bigger problem than just attempted murder,”
said Carmela. 

Kirk thought for a moment and then asked if she was within earshot of
anyone. 

“No, I'm in my quarters.” 

“What have you turned up?” 

“After our initial investigation turned up nothing, I decided to go a
different route. I had records run a lineage of all the crewmembers 
back five generations. It seems that one of my crew's great, great 
granddaddy was a known Romulan spy.” 

“How did Star Fleet miss that?” 

“Seems he was the first male born to that family since that spy was
caught. There were so many name changes from marriage that he fell 
through the cracks.” 

“Just because his ancestor was a spy doesn't mean he is. He may not even
know that his great, great grand pappy existed.” 

“Well, that might very well be true, but there is another coincidence.
His cousin was stationed on the Hood in the torpedo room.” 

That got Kirk thinking. That saboteur killed himself trying to and
succeeding in crippling Chuck's ship. 

“He could have been simply in the wrong place at the wrong time,”
conjectured Kirk. 

“His twin brother is on the Enterprise, Jim.” 

Kirk's mind started racing. He couldn't remember anyone in engineering
or weapons that was a twin. 

“Who are they?” he asked, impatiently. 

“Think, Jim. What's the one position on your ship that's considered
above reproach?” 

It hit him. “Damn!” 

“What better place to hide a saboteur than right in front of your nose?
Yours and my Chiefs of Security.” 

“Fritz...” 

“And Frances Malloy,” finished Diaz. “What do we do? We can't just throw
them in the brig without provocation, and we can't question them 
without tipping our hand.” 

“As heads of security there may be more sympathizers in their
departments. Doing anything to them may trigger all out sabotage 
throughout our ships,” said Kirk, in deep thought. 

“Again, my question, what do we do?” 

“Maybe we should...” 

There was a loud thud and his desk shook. The Red Alert siren went off.
He could hear the same going on from The Excalibur. 

“Kirk to bridge, report!” He heard Carmela shout the same thing. Neither
of them received a reply. 

“Jim!” said Carmela, and the channel went dead. 

Kirk went to his viewer and opened the dedicated channel to the bridge.
A picture full of static came on, showing electrical discharges, wires 
hanging down, and no crewmembers. He moved the view around the bridge 
and saw the same destruction at every station. Then his attention was 
drawn to the top of the screen. He maneuvered the view to the dome of 
the bridge. More like where the dome used to be. Now he knew where his 
bridge crew went. Open space. At this moment, the ship was not under 
anyone's control at all. The Red Alert siren continued to wail. 

Snap! “Kirk to Spock!” 

“Spock here, Captain, what is happening?” 

“The bridge has been destroyed. Contact Finney and Sulu and get to the
auxiliary bridge immediately! Hand pick crewmembers that you trust and 
have them guard it! Make sure you have your phasers with you.” 

Bridge officers had a weapon issued to them for their own protection,
unlike the rest of the crew. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Snap! Snap! “Kirk to Mr. Scott!” 

“Scott here, Captain.” 

“Mr. Scott, the bridge has been destroyed. Get down to engineering. Wake
up your staff and have them guard the entrance. Issue your phaser to 
one of them. I will have more sent down.” 

“Aye, Sir.” 

Snap! Snap! “Kirk to Lt. Uhura.” 

“Aye, Sir?” 

“Uhura, get to emergency manual monitor. The bridge has been destroyed
and I need you to keep communications open. Have your staff guard the 
entrance. I'll have Chekov issue phasers. Make sure you take your own.” 


Snap! Snap! “Kirk to Mr. Chekov!” 

“Aye, Sir?” 

“Get to the armory and distribute phasers to any personnel that will be
guarding the auxiliary bridge, engineering, and emergency manual 
monitor. Do not issue any phasers to security personnel.” 

“But Sir,” 

“I don't have time, Chekov, just do as you're told!” 

Kirk grabbed his phaser and set it to stun. The Red Alert siren was
still going with no one to turn it off on the bridge. As Kirk headed to 
the lift, he wondered how many other ships suffered the same fate as 
his and The Excalibur. He reached the lift but it didn't open. Damn! 

Snap! “Computer!” 

“Working.” 

“Is this lift damaged or in use?” 

“It is in use.” 

“Prioritize. Send it here next! Authority level one, Alpha, Alpha
three.” 

“Understood,” and the light went out. 

Moments later the door opened and there stood Fritz Malloy. 

Kirk drew his weapon, but Malloy kicked it out of his hand. They
grappled in the doorway and the lift tried to close on them several 
times. Malloy pulled Kirk back toward him, and the doors finally 
closed. Without a destination called for, the lift sat in place. Kirk 
and Malloy thrashed about, trying to beat each other's head into the 
wall, but they were too evenly matched. 

“Why are you doing this? What do you have to gain from all this?” asked
Kirk, as he broke a hold and hit Malloy square in the jaw. Malloy went 
down, but kicked Kirk in the chest. He jumped back to his feet with 
blood coming out of his mouth. Kirk had hit the opposite wall and had 
the wind knocked out of him. Malloy used the advantage and placed Kirk 
in a full Nelson, trying to cut off his air and wind supply. Kirk tried 
to break the hold but couldn't. He reached up as far as he could and 
poked Malloy in the eyes. Malloy released him and fell to his knees, 
holding his eyes. Kirk looked for his phaser and realized it must be in 
the hallway outside the turbo lift. Malloy was still on his knees, but 
was now opening and closing his eyes, trying to regain his sight. He 
reached out to take Kirk's legs out, but Kirk dodged him. 

“The Hell with you,” rasped Kirk, as he kicked Malloy in the jaw,
knocking him out. He grabbed the handle in the lift and opened the 
doors. He found his phaser and reentered the lift. The Red Alert siren 
was still going, helping to increase an already splitting headache. 
Kirk tried to catch his breath as much as he could. He reached for the 
handle of the lift, and before he could speak, the siren stopped. 

Thank God. That meant Spock made it to the auxiliary bridge. “Sick bay,”
he barely managed to utter into the speaker. The doors whooshed shut. 

Next: Chapter Nine - "Time's Running Out"


   



This is part 9 of a total of 10 parts.
previous part show all parts next part


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Kirk has 6 active stories on this site.
Profile for Kirk, incl. all stories

stories in "Fan Fiction"   |   all stories by "Kirk"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy