NEW: TOS "Dark Star" f/S, K/S [NC17] 1/5
Greywolf the Wanderer
NEW: TOS "Dark Star" f/S, K/S [NC17] 1/5
Date:
Tue, 30 Nov 1999 10:54:38 GMT
From:
greywol...@snowcrest.net (Greywolf the Wanderer)
Organization:
Furverts Anonymous
To:
alt-startrek-creati...@moderators.uu.net
Newsgroups:
alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated
This story is new to ASC/em; it may be archived in ASC and ASCEM if ye
keep this header and disclaimer intact; elsewhere, please ask, ok? It
was published a year or two ago in the printzine T'hy'la 20; if you
want a copy of that email me for ordering info -- there are some great
stories there, for sure. It is being posted here today with gracious
permission of the publisher of that zine, a truly lovely lady indeed.
OBDisclaim: In case of glass, break fire. ParaViaBorg owns 'em, I'se
jest a'playin' wif' 'em. Ain't no money bein' made off of this.
All's I own is my arse and a 1958 Ford 1/2 ton pickup truck, so suin'
me's a damn waste o' time anyhow. Contains some non-consensual sex
and some m/m sex, so if either of those ain't your bag you were fairly
warned.
Summary: I always loved The Enterprise Incident, but it's got plot
holes ye could drive a logging truck thru. Consider this my best
attempt to spackle the bastards.
"Dark Star"
TOS f/S, K/S [NC17]
Part one of five
by Greywolf the Wanderer
It began in a most peculiar fashion. Afterwards,
everyone agreed that the Captain had not been himself, not for
some time. He had become irascible and unreasonable, his
reactions to the most routine of interruptions wildly unpredictable.
Dr. McCoy was frankly concerned, but his efforts to help were
coldly rebuffed.
It came to a head when Captain Kirk suddenly ordered
them to enter the Romulan Neutral Zone. Uhura glanced at
Spock, worried and puzzled. She was the Enterprise's chief
comms officer; she *knew* they had received no such order
from FleetCom. But Spock said nothing. He merely nodded, and
stepped up his sensor sweeps of the surrounding area.
They left the Neutral Zone, and started into Romulan
space -- and that was where the Romulans caught them. Far from
home, alone and surrounded; in violation of half a dozen treaties
and agreements... When the request came for Spock and the
captain to beam aboard the Romulan flagship, there really wasn't
any choice at all. Especially after Spock revealed that the order
had been Kirk's alone, not StarFleet's. The captain had been
coldly furious at that -- but he had not denied it. The crew
had been more than a little shocked -- but they were the crew
of the finest ship in the Fleet. They went about their duties as
if it were any normal shift, and kept their various misgivings
to themselves. Nobody wanted to be the first one to say that
the captain was acting very strangely.
Two Romulan officers beamed aboard the Enterprise,
as hostages in exchange, but that didn't reassure anyone very
much. It was common knowledge that the Romulans did not
take prisoners. No-one spoke of the danger they were in -- but
it was in all of their minds, just the same.
-----///-----
The interview with the Romulan Commander was not a
pleasant one. Kirk was irritable and insulting, finally losing his
temper entirely and attempting to attack Spock after the Vulcan
admitted that they were not there under orders from StarFleet
Command. The captain was restrained by the Romulan guards
and removed to their brig -- where he promptly charged the
forcefield, injuring himself. He lay twitching on the floor of
the brig, and would not answer when the guards spoke to him.
Dr. McCoy was summoned; he beamed over, administered
a mild stimulant, and verified the captain's condition and recent
state of mind. It was while he was discussing that with Spock and
the Romulan Commander that Kirk cracked completely and went
for the Vulcan's throat, screaming that he was a traitor and that he,
Kirk, would kill him... He was wild, irrational, the whites
showing all around his eyes.
Caught by surprise, Spock took the captain in a strange
two-handed grip, holding tightly to his face for several seconds.
When he let go, Kirk slumped to the floor, his face gone slack
and empty. He didn't move, and when McCoy took out
his scanner, he already knew what it would say. Captain Kirk
was dead. He didn't need to see the red alarm lights, or hear
the flat monotone of the heartbeat sensor. No-one who lived
could have held that contorted, awkward pose. Very gently,
then, he reached out, shut the captain's eyes, and straightened
out his body as best he could.
Seemingly enraged, he turned to Spock and demanded,
"What did you *do*?"
His voice gone flat and toneless, his face as still as
granite, Spock explained. "I was unprepared for his attack. I
instinctively used the Vulcan Death Grip."
"Well, your instincts are still good, Mr. Spock," the
doctor snarled. "The captain is dead!"
-----///-----
In the Commander's quarters, Spock sat waiting, alone.
They had returned here, after the fiasco in the brig. McCoy
had already beamed back to the Enterprise, taking Kirk's body
with him. In keeping with their script for this deception, he had
neither looked at nor spoken to the Vulcan, pretending that he
wasn't even there, as he spoke to the Rihannsu Commander --
or "Romulan", if one followed the human custom. Spock, in
turn, had ignored him, simply waving a hand in dismissal when
he announced to one and all that his business here was done.
The Rihannsu CMO had verified that Kirk was dead, and that
had been the end of it.
Soon after their return to her quarters, the Commander
had murmured that perhaps she ought to get more comfortable,
and left the room.
As soon as she had left the room, Spock began. He
worked as fast and as quietly as possible. Holding his
communicator close to his mouth, he whispered into it everything
he'd learned about the Warbird's layout and security measures,
including the probable location of the cloaking device. He had
seen quite a bit of the Warbird's interior as he'd followed her
through the corridors. He recorded it all, however insignificant.
Then he tapped one button and sent it out as a microsecond
zipsqueal. That was it; that was all that he could do for Jim.
Now he could only wait and try to keep her distracted, and hope
that it would be enough.
He was not sanguine about any of this. Even before
meeting her he'd had his doubts. To do as FleetCom's plan
required would push his Vulcan ethics to their limits. Among his
people, and among hers as well, it was not lightly done to toy with
another. It was not precisely true that Vulcans could not lie -- but
it was a most disquieting process. It went against the Tenets of
Surak. This commander could have been a woman of his own
people; he had to keep reminding himself that she was not. If
they succeeded here it might well destroy her utterly. And yet,
the cloaking device could *not* be allowed to remain a secret.
It was far too dangerous, too likely to start a war that nobody
needed and no-one could win. This was the first time one of
their spies had ever brought them actual Rihannsu flight plans
and intercept courses. There had really been no choice. They
could have refused the mission, of course -- but there was
no-one better suited. After discussing the matter with Jim,
Spock had reluctantly agreed that there was Need.
Spock was a StarFleet officer. He took his oath very
seriously. He would not fail in his duty. But he was finding
it unexpectedly difficult to look her in the eyes and tell her
the lies that he and Jim had written. She did not understand
why he stayed at Kirk's side; that was the only thing that made
his story believable to her -- and the thing that made this so
hard for him to do. He stayed at Jim's side because there was
nowhere else in the universe he wanted to be. It was not
logical, and he had never said anything like it to Jim -- but it
was the truth.
When she came back into the room, she had changed
her appearance completely. Her hair now curled softly about her
shoulders; gold twinkled at her earlobes and her wrists. The
uniform was gone, replaced by something smooth and flowing in
an elegant black and white print, that draped softly about her
waist and clung to her legs. He looked at her and for once, he
understood what so often brought a smile to Jim's face in the
presence of a beautiful woman. He himself did not go so far, of
course.
She served him dinner, delicacies from her homeworld
and his; when he complimented her on the Warbird's cuisine, he
spoke only the truth. Somehow, the replicators on board the
Enterprise never quite got the flavours right, when he tried to
order Vulcan foods. They washed the food down with an
effervescent green wine from his homeworld, and a cloudy blue
liqueur from hers; both were of subtle and delicate flavour. She
watched with an odd intentness, as he finished a glass of the
blue drink; when he accepted another her expression grew
almost triumphant. There was something strange in her eyes, as
she raised her own glass and drained it. He raised an eyebrow,
and she smiled, and drew her warm fingers along his lips. How
odd, to be touched by someone who knew how to shield her
thoughts... In fact, how odd to be touched at all; all of his
crewmates knew not to touch him without permission. But it was
not unpleasant...
She began to speak again, telling him of her progress
through the ranks, her assignment to command three ships, a
goal she had worked for all her life. Such a contrast to his own
quiet, ordered life. He had never desired command; he did not
desire it now, for accepting a command would take him away
from Jim -- and from his research, of course. Captains had much
less time free to spend in the lab than science officers. Yet when
she looked at him out of those dark amber eyes and spoke of a
command for him, he found it strangely easy to pretend
interest...
-----///-----
Aboard the Enterprise, Captain Kirk's body lay in sickbay.
The monitors above his head were dark and silent, mute witnesses
to his fate. Dr. McCoy had ordered that no-one enter this room,
but Nurse Chapel found herself drawn there, to stand and look at
him and wonder how it had all gone so wrong, so fast. No-one
knew exactly what had happened in the Romulan brig except
McCoy -- and he wasn't talking. He had beamed back alone, with
Captain Kirk dead -- and Spock had stayed aboard the Romulan
flagship. Christine didn't understand any of this. Spock, a
traitor? It was impossible. But no-one would tell her what had
really happened...
Suddenly there was a beep from the monitor -- and the
corpse's eyes flickered open! Chapel's heart threatened to block
her throat; flustered, she yelled for the doctor to come at once.
And so it was that *she* found out what it was that they were
doing, and why. It was the work of but a few moments, then, to
apply the physio-stimulator and rouse the captain from his
stupor. Christine couldn't help the huge smile that wreathed
her face; she'd just *known* that Spock couldn't have done
what was said of him.
As soon as McCoy had finished altering the captain's
appearance, Scotty was called to Sickbay. He came, albeit
reluctantly -- but when he saw Kirk alive and well and looking
like a Vulcan, his smile threatened to split his face. "Och,
sir, ye look like the devil himself -- but as long as yer
alive... Whut's it all about, then?" he asked.
"Are those two Romulan officers still aboard the ship?"
Kirk asked him.
"Aye." Brisk, and business-like, now. "They're in the
brig."
"I'll need a Romulan uniform, Scotty..."
Scott grinned fiercely, and cocked one large, very solid
fist. "Aye, sir. It'll be a pleasure!"
-----///-----
Dinner had been over for a while, now; the two of them
sat on the low couch, talking, listening to the soft music she had
chosen. It was a classical piece by the pre-Reformation
composer Sethan of Vulcan, a duet for ka'athyra and flute.
Spock was finding it difficult to keep his mind on his purpose
here... He was faintly surprised, when he consulted his
timesense, to discover they had been here for almost four hours.
Jim should be awake by now; soon, he would come to steal the
cloaking device. So far, things were proceeding as planned...
She leaned closer and whispered into his ear. Softly,
she asked if he knew her other name... He answered that he did
not. Very softly, she whispered it. "It is Llwyn..." Fire Aspect,
by the way she pronounced it, so "Swiftfire".
In the time since the Enterprise's first encounter with her
people, Spock had gone back into the old records on Vulcan,
and studied the records S'Task and his followers had left, of the
Rihannsu language as it was when it was first created. His
accent was wrong, of course, hopelessly archaic -- but he
understood most of what he heard.
"How rare," he told her, "and how beautiful." And it
was beautiful, even as she was, herself... Once again he
found himself regretting the circumstances of their meeting,
the necessity for what he had already done. His regret was
illogical, of course -- but it was real.
She stood then, and he followed, not entirely for the
sake of politeness. She held out a hand with two fingers
paired; hastily he tightened his shields and returned the gesture.
For some reason, sweat sprang out upon his brow at her touch.
After so long among humans, the warm touch of one of his own
kind was ...different. It was pleasant to stand here with her,
watching the light glint in the curls of her hair, breathing in the
slightly musky scent of her. From the place where their fingers
touched and gently moved together, a wash of heat poured
through him. She kept her thoughts as tightly shielded as he did,
but he could tell that this was just as pleasant for her. But it
was definitely too hot in here. It was too hot, and there was
not enough air...
She briefly lowered her eyes, in response to something he
had said, looking hungrily up at him through long black lashes.
Her eyes were a rich warm brown, flecked with green and gold,
just a little darker than Jim's were... For a moment, he wished that
he could see that look in the human's eyes, some time.
Spock blinked. What was -- why was he *thinking* things
like this? Such thoughts belonged to the dark of the night, when
he was in his cabin, alone. Really, he was beginning to feel
*most* peculiar... His hands were starting to shake and he
couldn't get them to stop. His fingers and toes were beginning
to tingle and go numb. Something was wrong...
She leaned forward and brushed her fingers across his
lips, and for a moment he could not catch his breath. His vision
had begun to blur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remain
on his feet. Something was wrong... Somewhere inside him,
alarm struggled to be felt.
She was talking again, now -- something about loyalty
and rewards and a command at her side... but her voice was
developing a hollow metallic echo.
He shook his head, trying to clear the growing haze from
his thoughts. "I'm sorry," he heard himself say from some vast
distance, "what did..." He fell silent -- he couldn't remember
what he'd meant to say... Something was wrong -- but he
couldn't seem to move...
Way off in the echoing brassy distance he dimly heard a
beep, and her voice saying, "Now, Tal!" Heard doors open,
footsteps come running in...
Spock struggled to remain upright, but his knees gave
way and he sank to the couch. His vision greened out, wavered
double for a moment, then grew steadier, but it was blurred, full of
haze... There was a vast roaring in his ears; he felt as if it
were a flood, trying to wash him away... Dimly he felt hands
grasp him at shoulders and wrists -- impossibly strong hands,
hands as strong as his own. Stronger, in fact, for his own
strength was running down like sand through a timeglass...
Fingers plucked at his waist, took his phaser, his communicator
-- he tried to reach for them, couldn't break the relentless
hold. He saw Tal reach for a weapon, then a bright flash of
heat and light. Small hot shards stung his cheek.
No. He wasn't going to get out of here that easily. Now
he could feel his alarm -- but it was faint, unimportant, something
happening to someone else in another room...
Then *she* was there again, leaning down to caress his
cheek. The hands on him tightened their grip, and he watched
numbly as she put the point of her knife to his arm, cut the sleeve
open, and swiftly dug out of his flesh the transponder McCoy had
inserted there. Even the hot brightness of that pain couldn't
clear the thickening fog from his mind. She dropped the device
to the deck and crushed it beneath her heel. Then she leaned
close to him again, and the last thing he heard as he fell into
the darkness was her voice, saying, "There. Now we won't be
interrupted..."
He had just enough time to shout <<JIM!>> with his mind,
as loudly as he could, hoping to reach the human's thoughts.
Then he was gone.
The small, slender woman in the black and white dress
stood smiling, as the Vulcan's eyes rolled up and he slowly slid
from the couch to the floor. She wiped his blood off her knife
and sheathed it. Perfect -- all had gone exactly as planned.
She had watched, earlier, on her security monitor, as he
gave his captain the needed information. She had smiled as he
put the communicator away. A worthy adversary indeed, this one...
Now she nodded, and everyone but Tal left the room. Loyal Tal
-- he did not approve of this scheme, she knew, but he would
never say so; he knew how much this meant to her. And he was,
as he had always been, hers to command. She looked down at
the unconscious man on the floor, and smiled again. It was not
a pleasant smile; it was more the snarl of a predator than
anything. The revenge she had planned for and dreamed of for
so long was finally here, and she was going to make the most
she could of it.
Had he been anyone else, she might have felt sorry for
him. But this was a matter of mnei'sahe. This one and his partner
had deprived her of cherished kin, two years past. Her father;
her mother's-father... Mnei'sahe and the ghosts of her loved
ones demanded that she make them pay -- and by all the
Elements and Powers, she was going to *enjoy* this...
-----///-----
Kirk looked in the mirror and grinned fiercely. Bones
had done a beautiful job -- no-one would ever know he hadn't
been born with these ears...
Scotty would be back with a uniform any minute; then he
could get going. Spock had sent on his usual thorough report. He
had all the information he needed. But he couldn't help wondering
what was happening on board that ship, how the Vulcan was doing.
His was the more dangerous part of this operation; he had been
reluctant, at first, to take part in it. But he was the only
one aboard who could do it, and finally Jim had talked him into
it.
He knew Sulu would let him know if anything showed up on
scan, but just the same, he couldn't help wondering...
Aha. Here was Scotty now, nursing a puffed hand and
grinning like a madman. Quickly Jim got into the "borrowed" uniform;
it fit him pretty well, once he got all the weird fasteners figured
out. Scotty assured him once more that he looked like the devil
himself, and that was it. He was ready to go.
The colours were funny, inside the Warbird. Everything
was just a few shades too orange or too green, a bit darker than a
human would have done it... The lighting was yellower than he
was used to; that exaggerated the colour distortions. The
proportions of things were just a bit off, and it was too hot.
Kirk shook his head, reminded himself of his mission, assumed a
business-like air and strode off down the corridor toward the
area that held the cloaking device...
The guard on duty regarded him nervously, as he walked
up and gave the regulation salute -- odd custom, that; reminded
him of ancient Rome, more than anything. He spoke calmly to the
man, praising his alertness, saying he would be sure to mention it
to Tal -- and slowly, as he made no threatening move, he saw the
feral wariness diminish. He made as if to turn away -- then
spun, as fast as possible, and put everything he had into a
short sharp punch to the point of the other man's jaw. The
soldier's head snapped back, his eyes rolled up, and he
collapsed against the door.
"There, that'll show *you*." Kirk leaned against the wall
and rubbed his aching knuckles. It was worth it not to have to
kill, but he was going to hurt later. He bent, dragged the man
inside the room, and shut and locked the door behind them.
He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he'd
memorized what little they had on record of Romulan schematics;
all he could do was hope it would stand out.
For once Saint Murphy was kind; it didn't take long at all
to spot the tall, translucent column mounted atop the main power
conduit. Moving as quickly as he could, Jim began to power it
down and disconnect it. There were a couple of tricky moments,
but fairly quickly he was able to lift it up off the conduit
housing. He took out his communicator and tapped one key
twice -- and the tingling numbness of the transporter effect washed
away the Warbird's engine room.
Jim hopped down off the transporter pad, handed the
device to Scotty, and described where and how it was mounted.
"You have fifteen minutes, Scotty, to get it operational..." He
didn't want to leave Spock there one minute longer than necessary.
He was all too aware of how little chance one Vulcan would have
to escape, on a ship full of people who were all just as strong and
fast as he... The engineer merely nodded, took the device, and
vanished into the nearest turbolift, muttering under his breath
the whole way.
Back on the bridge, Jim sat quietly. He was back in
StarFleet uniform now, but hadn't had his ears bobbed yet.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, every time one of the
bridge crew looked at him they couldn't help smiling... He finally
cracked Uhura up completely by giving her the infamous Spock
raised eyebrow look.
Grinning himself, he let the laughter run its course, then
said quietly, "Thank you, people, that will be sufficient... Mr.
Sulu, Mr. Chekov -- make no change in flight parameters. I
think you'll find, if you look, that they're doing a massive
search over there right now; I don't want us to do anything to
attract their attention before Mr. Scott can finish hooking up
the device." Pavel checked, and announced that in fact
there was a full-blown intruder alert in progress on the Warbird --
and that they still had a transporter lock on Spock. It was a
fail-safe arrangement; not only were they locked on to his
communicator, McCoy had provided him with an intradermal
transponder. The doctor's researches had indicated that the
sensors might not be able to distinguish one Vulcan on a shipful
of Romulans. This way, they weren't taking quite so many
chances. Kirk grinned again, and sat back in his chair. As
soon as Scotty got the device online, they would snatch Spock
back and get the hell out of here. He, for one, would be glad
to see the last of both this place and this mission. Leave the
spook shit for the spooks, that had always been his belief. If
not for its vital importance, he would have refused this mission
completely.
Uhura turned to face him, her dusky face gone suddenly
pale. "Captain -- we just lost sensor lock on Mr. Spock. Both
communicator and transponder just went off-line." Her hands
worked the comms board, trying to find an answer besides the
obvious one.
Kirk turned. "Chekov! Take the Science station. FIND
him!" No-one said it. The same thought was in all of their minds --
don't say it, and it won't be true...
Pavel jumped up. "Aye, keptin!" He took Spock's seat,
and went to work. Very quickly he discovered that picking one
Vulcan out of a ship full of Romulans is *not* easy. In fact he
was not at all sure it was possible, but he wasn't about to tell
the captain that. He'd just have to work that much harder.
*Spock* could have done it, he was sure. Therefore he had to.
When the cloak suddenly came on line, the sensor feed
got even weaker. Pavel muttered to himself in Russian,
recalibrated yet again, and started yet another scan. As Sulu
gently took them to a different course, he peered into the
scanner, trying desperately to see something that simply was not
there...
In the captain's chair, Jim sat motionless, staring blankly
at the main viewer. Suddenly he winced, put his hand to his head,
and went very pale. Then he slumped, and slowly, shakily, drew
a cautious breath. *oh, god -- spock... what have i *done*?
it should have been me...* He looked around the bridge, not
saying anything, and finally it was Uhura who asked him, "Is
everything all right, sir?"
He shook his head. "No -- but there isn't anything we can
do about it yet. Carry on, people, we've got a job to do." He
didn't want to tell them that he had just heard Spock in his
mind, calling for help that they were powerless to give. They
couldn't do a damned thing until they *found* him...
-----///-----
End of part 1.
Comments welcome as always; here or in email. Flames subject to
reposting and public ridicule. ;-)>
I ask only that if ye post comments to asc ye mail me a copy too, my
newsfeed sucks. ascem I get via mailing list so that will reach me
just fine.
Greywolf the Wanderer
<spambuster alert -- remove nospam from header to email me>
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Islao...@aol.com
Date: Wed, 1 Dec 1999 01:26:59 EST
To: ASC...@onelist.com
Subject: Re: [ASCEML] NEW: TOS "Dark Star" f/S, K/S [NC17] 1/5
From: Islao...@aol.com
In a message dated 11/30/1999 11:42:24 PM Eastern Standard Time,
greywol...@snowcrest.net writes:
<< I always loved The Enterprise Incident, but it's got plot
holes ye could drive a logging truck thru. Consider this my best
attempt to spackle the bastards.
>>
Greywolf, the above is one of the best reasons that I've ever found for
writing fanfic. And, I'm with you - The Enterprise Incident is a fascinating
episode. I remember the first time I saw it that I was just amazed at the
way Kirk and Spock were acting!!
I do so love your explanation for why they were able to get there and get
their hands on the cloaking device so easily. I love the way you changed the
ending from the episode - I, too, could not cannot stand the ending where
Spock is telling the Romulan Commander that he's still interested in her even
after he's just ruined her career by stealing the cloaking device.
I love the way Spock is returned to Kirk and the horrible guilt that Kirk
feels over what happened to Spock. And the little note that she leaves on
him and that Kirk translates the note and gives it to Spock and Spock has the
same initial reaction he does and...
I love the way that something oh so good comes out of something that was oh
so bad!!
Thank you for this. And, yes, I read it in T'hy'la 20 (yes, a wonderful,
wonderful zine, which I bought just because I had known that this story was
in it - the rest of the zine is lovely, too, and I've become a reader of
zines now). But it was so lovely to read it again on ASCEM.
It's always a pleasure to read your work, Greywolf!!!
Isla, who's actually about to go searching on deja for "the Cabin Boy" 'cause
somebody remind her of it today and she remembers it w/ such affection!!!
Ista...@aol.com
Date: Tue, 30 Nov 1999 23:50:41 EST
From: Ista...@aol.com
I reread this story from my zine from time to time and I always enjoy it.
Greywolf, give yerself a darn pat on the back.