Star Trek TOS: Ruse - Chapter Seven "Idle Hands" (standard:Fan Fiction, 3370 words) [8/10] show all parts
Author: Kirk	Added: Aug 12 2006	Views/Reads: 2280/1714	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The fleet has a long trip ahead.

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“I've had so much information coming in that I had to assign Rand an
assistant from one of your science labs,” replied Kirk, rubbing his 
eyes. 

“Oh, that's where she went,” scoffed McCoy. 

“I've just spent five hours going over everything with them. Then I had
to go over my normal paperwork with just Rand. Both of our nerves were 
getting raw. By the time we finished, I was either going to kick her, 
or keep her there. Willingly or not,” said Kirk, peeking above his 
hand. 

“It's not like you would've had to twist her arm,” chuckled McCoy. 

Kirk snapped his hand down in mock disgust. “Doctor, you know I never
fraternize.” 

McCoy snorted. “Since when?” Kirk looked at him with hooded eyes. “Okay,
have it your way. If you're looking for a drink, I can think of someone 
that would be more than happy to help.” 

Kirk frowned for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant, and then
it dawned on him. “Thanks, Bones,” he said, hurrying out of sickbay. 
The door whooshed shut behind him. 

McCoy strolled over to his medical cabinets and found the hidden flap,
revealing a small compartment. He pulled out a plastic flask and opened 
it. He took a big swig and quickly hid it again. He grinned and 
muttered, “Sorry, Jim, this stuff is reserved for medical use only.” He 
noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head and 
there stood Nurse Chapel in the doorway. 

“That's right, don't offer the lady a drink.” 

“Christine! Ah, well, um, would you like a...” 

“Oh, aren't you the charmer?” she cooed, patting him on the cheek. McCoy
smiled. “Can it!” she snapped, as she marched past him into the 
diagnostic rooms. 

McCoy looked at the floor, cleared his throat and decided to join Jim. 

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

Scott was busy checking readouts from his engine room when he heard a
chime at his door. That shocked him, because never had anyone come 
visit him since he had come aboard as Chief Engineer. He wasn't sure 
whether he should answer the door personally or just yell ‘Come'. He 
never locked his door. He decided to go halfway. He stood and yelled 
‘Come.” 

There stood the Captain. 

Scotty took an instinctive step back. He and Kirk didn't exactly see eye
to eye with each other when they both came onboard after Captain Pike 
moved on. In fact, Scott had requested a transfer that was nearly 
accepted. Scott had gone through command school the same as Kirk, but 
soon found while serving aboard ships after graduation, that his true 
calling was engineering. His rank was increased to Lt. Commander with 
his posting as Chief Engineer on The Enterprise. With his command 
training, that placed him second in command after Spock. It's something 
he didn't like, but would never shirk if called upon. When the rough 
honeymoon ended, Kirk and Scott had earned each other's mutual respect. 
In fact, they were even known to joke with each other from time to 
time. A very rare time to time. 

Both men regarded each other. An awkward period of silence followed. 

“Ah, Mr. Scott, how are you doing?” asked a very out of place Kirk. 

Scott's eyes furrowed a moment. “Fine, Sir, is there something I can do
for you?” Scott asked, looking around his room for anything 
objectionable. 

“Um, well, I was wondering if, ah. Well, I was hoping that you might
have some...” 

Scott scrutinized his Captain, wondering what he was trying to say. 

Kirk ran a hand over the back of his head. “I, uh was wondering if...” 

“He wants to know if you have any hooch here,” said McCoy, from outside
the doorway. 

Scott blinked and then stared at his Captain. 

“You know, hooch, engineering essence, distilled liquor, moonshine...”
volunteered the doctor. 

“You ordered the still dismantled, Sir,” said Scott. 

“Yes, I did, didn't I? Ah, I don't remember seeing a destruction order
for it, nor a proof of destruction afterward,” said a semi serious 
Kirk. 

Scott looked down at his feet. 

“Mr. Scott, do I have a drink coming or not?” 

“Aye, Sir,” he replied. Scott went to the suit of Scottish armor he had
standing in the room and opened the visor. He reached his arm in and 
pulled out a large bottle of clear liquid and set it on the desk in 
front of all three of them. Then he went to his dresser and returned 
with three glasses. He poured an inch in each glass and handed them to 
Kirk and McCoy. 

McCoy inhaled the stuff. “Oh my God, Jim. I almost went blind sniffing
it.” 

“That's 200 proof engine room hooch,” stated a very proud Scott, and
gulped his. 

Kirk upturned his glass and downed it. McCoy joined him. Both men
suddenly fell back against the wall. McCoy started to gag and cough, 
and Kirk thumped the wall with his free hand. McCoy leaned forward to 
grab Scott's desk to steady himself, and Kirk stomped his foot several 
times in place. 

“Smooth,” Kirk rasped, as McCoy continued coughing and nodding in
agreement. 

“Aye, it was a good batch,” said a smiling Scotty. 

Both Kirk and McCoy held out their glasses for another, even as tears
fell from their eyes. 

“Plenty more where that came from, ah, I mean used to come from,” said
the Scotsman. 

Kirk waved him off from explaining any further and downed his second
shot. McCoy followed suit and then Scott. 

They all were now either thumping the wall, the desk, or stomping the
floor, and in some cases, all three. 

“The best I ever had,” wheezed McCoy. Kirk nodded in agreement, even
though at the moment, he couldn't see McCoy clearly. 

“Maybe you gentlemen would like something more refined?” asked Scott, as
he reached his hand even further down the throat of the knight's armor. 
He produced a ten-year-old bottle of scotch. 

Two unsteady hands held out their glasses. Scott filled them to the top.
He knew this stuff would taste like milk next the hooch they just 
drank. He filled his own glass to the brim. 

“Thank you, Monty,” said Kirk. 

Scott stiffened. He hated that name. “Sir, please call me Scotty. That's
my name. Not that other name.” 

“No offense was meant, Scotty. I was just...” 

“I know, Sir. Just remember, when being informal with me, call me
Scotty. That's my name,” stated the proud Scotsman, as he stood to full 
height. 

“You know that there are severe penalties for stills being on a
Starfleet vessel,” Kirk said. 

“There is no still onboard this ship, Sir,” said Scott, with a deadpan
look on his face. 

“I have your personal word on that?” 

“Ah, well...” 

“I'll take that as a yes,” said Kirk. He took a swig of his drink and
Scott topped it off. McCoy sat on Scott's bunk. Kirk peered at the 
readings on the monitor. “Don't you ever take a break?” 

“Aye, I am now,” Scott replied, raising his glass. 

“Were you able to meet the engineer on The Potemkin?” referring to the
‘miracle worker'. 

“Aye, and a bonnie fine lass she is,” grinned Scott. “She showed me a
few new tricks.” 

“Well I hope these new ideas come in handy when we meet with the
Romulans,” stated Kirk. 

“Sir?” asked Scott, with a questioning look on his face. 

“You know, if something goes wrong in engineering,” Kirk explained. 

“Who said anything about engineering?” asked a serious Scotty. McCoy was
in mid gulp of his Scotch when he finally got it, and nearly choked 
himself laughing. The joke was lost a moment on Kirk, then the 
realization set in of what Scott meant. 

“Scotty, you old dog. Sowing your oats in the midst of a crisis,”
chuckled Kirk, shaking his head slowly. Scott raised his glass in 
salute. “A bonnie fine lass she is.” 

EXCALIBUR: 

Carmela Diaz was seated at her dresser in her quarters, brushing her
long brown hair. The image of the Romulan Warbird launching it's plasma 
weapon on her helpless ship was still on her mind. If it wasn't for 
Jim... 

She shook the image from her mind. She needed to concentrate on the task
at hand. Her ship was a few more hours away from having full warp 
capability. Impulse was nearly ready as well. Departure time had been 
set for twelve hours from now. 

Jim... 

She noticed her hand was shaking. Damn! 

Jim... 

She became furious with herself. She had promised herself that she
wouldn't allow her feelings about him effect her performance. She did 
well during the briefing with the Admiral onboard the Enterprise a few 
days ago, and was proud of herself. But being that close to death and 
to be saved by the man you love... 

<====><====> 

Lieutenant Diaz was just waking as Lieutenant Kirk was finishing his
rituals in the head. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked on 
the man she was to marry in less than ten days. 

“When do you have to notify them of your decision?” she asked. 

“By 17:00,” he replied, toweling off the water from his face. 

“What are you going to tell them?” she asked, not knowing the answer
herself. 

He sat on the bunk next to her. “Carmela, you know if I take this, it's
the fast track to the Captaincy. I'll be a Lt. Commander, second in 
command on the Yorktown. I'll be the Ops officer. I can't turn this 
down!” 

“When will I ever see you? Do we get married today before you reassign,
or do we wait until fate brings us together again?” she asked, starting 
to lose control. 

“We both have plenty of leave time accumulated. We can do it the first
time both ships are in the same sector.” 

“Fat chance,” she said, as she sat up in the bunk. “You know I turned
down a promotion of my own six weeks ago?” 

Kirk looked at her in surprise. “No! Why didn't you tell me?” 

“I would have been transferred to the Constitution, as the head of
Science as a Lt. Commander, but I turned it down for us,” she replied. 

“If you had told me, I would have supported you in the promotion.” 

“I didn't take it because it meant being away from you!” she said,
loudly. 

“Look, Carmela, we both took command school at the Academy. That's what
we want in our careers. We can't keep turning down opportunities 
because we want to be together. There are many marriages in Star Fleet 
that are successful. Ours can be too,” replied Jim, as he embraced her. 
She pushed him away. 

“I want you to stay with me, Jim.” 

He regarded her a moment and then dropped his eyes. “I have to take it,
Carmela.” 

“Are you telling me that you're choosing your career over me?” 

“No, I'm saying that there is a way to work this out. We can both be
happy,” Jim replied, diplomatically. 

“No, Jim, there isn't. You will have to decide between me or the
Yorktown.” 

“Carmela, there's no reason to be this way,” he said, pleading. 

“Oh, yes there is. When you leave this room, I need to know if you are
staying, or taking the promotion,” she said, becoming defiant. 

“Carmela, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Jim, more than you know. Now I need to know your
answer. Will you stay, or take the promotion? Please, take your time in 
answering. It seals both of our fates.” 

“Carmela, I have to take this promotion,” he replied, with an apologetic
tone in his voice. 

She nodded her head. “I release you, Jim. Take the promotion. I will
check to see if the promotion offered to me is still open. I now choose 
my career over relationships. It was silly for me to do anything 
otherwise. As you leave, I want you to know, that if I ever see your 
face again, it will be too soon.” 

She got up off the bunk and entered the head. Lt. Kirk waited thirty
minutes for her to emerge to talk things over, but she failed to 
appear. He left, feeling that a big part of him was left behind. He 
wrote her several times explaining these feelings, but received no 
reply. Lt. Commander Kirk rose through the ranks to become the youngest 
starship Captain ever. 

<====><====> 

Carmela came back to reality and saw that her hand shook even worse. She
set the brush down on the counter and reached to turn out the light. 
There was a buzz from her Comm on her work desk. She reached over and 
answered. “Diaz here.” 

“Ma'am, I am receiving a personal call for you from the Enterprise. It's
Captain Kirk.” 

Shit! She took a deep breath and said, “Patch it through, please.” “Diaz
here.” 

“Carmela, I was wondering how you are doing after the other day,” said a
tipsy Kirk, although you'd never know it from his voice. 

Her heart skipped a beat. “I'm fine, and thank you for saving my ship
and crew.” 

“Carmela, I know things had to end abruptly between us, but I still
think of you every day.” 

What could she say? I miss you too? Why did you take the promotion,
transfer to the Yorktown, and leave me behind? 

“That's very kind, Jim, but we both have bigger worries now.” 

“Yes. Well, it was nice talking to you, Carmela.” 

“And you, Jim,” she said, closing the channel. 

“Shit!” she mumbled, looking at her shaking hand. 

*** 

VICTORIOUS: 

Turvan finished the last of his ale in his quarters. He had considered
joining the crew for their special meal, but thought better of it, 
knowing his presence would more than likely dampen the enjoyment than 
heighten it. He turned his attention to the sensor drone's readout. He 
blinked his eyes and then rubbed them a bit. He looked back into the 
readout and saw again that one ship was gone. Now another left, and 
then another. Soon all the Earth ships had left the Zone, each on their 
own different heading. They must be returning to their prior 
assignments! Soon he could order the lowering of the cloaks on the 
ships and use that power to increase their speed to Earth. When close 
to the system, he would order the cloaks raised and finish the surprise 
attack. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, allowing the 
effects of the ale to take hold. Tonight, he knew he would sleep better 
than he had in ages. 

Glorious! 

*** 

EXCALIBUR: 

Carmela was standing in sickbay, waiting for an explanation. She had
been summoned an hour before when she was made aware that Komack had 
slipped into a coma. Though his injuries were severe, and that he would 
more than likely never walk again, his wounds were healing. 

The Chief Medical officer, Dolores Gets, a small woman in her mid
forties, was explaining to Diaz how she had found the Admiral, when 
Doctor Givens came out of the lab with a report. “He was poisoned, 
using a derivative of hemlock. It was probably just sprinkled on the 
food he had for lunch.” 

Diaz punched the Comm, “Diaz to Lt. Malloy, report to sick bay.” Snap!
“So, this could have happened anywhere from the galley to right here in 
sickbay?” 

“I'm afraid so, Captain,” replied Gets. 

“Will he survive?” 

“I don't know. I have him on partial life support right now. He can't
breath for himself.” 

Lt. Francis Malloy appeared in the doorway. 

“That was fast,” said Diaz. 

“I was in the lift when you called, I just changed destinations,”
replied the Chief of Security for The Excalibur. 

“Admiral Komack was poisoned. We either have a sympathizer or a
full-blown saboteur on board. Order a full security alert and try to 
find out who had access to the Admiral's lunch from the time it was 
made to the time it was eaten. I want each and every person's story 
checked out. Dismissed.” 

Malloy nodded and left the room. 

“If we find this son of a bitch that's posing as one of us, I'll kick
him out an airlock myself,” snapped Diaz. Snap! “Diaz to damage 
control.” 

“Wilkes, here, Ma'am.” 

“Status report on weapons.” 

“All phasers now operational and being energized. Port torpedo bays
repaired and tested. Starboard bays repaired and being tested now,” 
replied the Englishman. 

“Notify me when complete, Diaz out.” Snap! Snap! “Diaz to engineering.” 

“Aye, Ma'am,” came the reply of a woman with a heavy Scottish brogue. 

“Impulse engines repair status please, Miss MacTavish.” 

“We've just replaced the last baffle and are ready to restart, Ma'am,”
came the reply. 

“Very well, keep me informed Beitris, Diaz out.” Snap. 

“Do everything you can for him doctor and let me know of any change in
his condition,” said Diaz, as she nodded her goodbyes and headed out of 
sickbay. 

Next: Chapter Eight - "A Lot of Time to Kill" 


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