\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll enter orbit around New Sydney at 1200 hours, with the Beta Two team on the bridge for the first orbital shift and Mr. Spock in command. After we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re done with \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcparking permissions\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and other formalities, away teams and shore leave parties will beam down starting at 1600 hours. Mr. Scott is in charge of acquiring additional supplies of pergium at the Tigan Mining Consortium. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be accompanied by Lieutenants Chekov and Keenser. Lieutenant Amell and her team will oversee the handling and stowing of the pergium on board.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim consulted his PADD before looking at the assembled officers. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153New Sydney is not a holiday destination. Pollution problems thanks to the pergium mines are still its most pleasant feature. Less attractive is the fact that it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s firmly in the hands of the Orion Syndicate, and slave trade is practiced openly. We can only beam to official transport platforms. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve received a friendly message from New Sydney police that beaming frequencies will be interrupted outside those areas. Nevertheless, I want the transporter team on alert 24\/7 while we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re in orbit. Additionally, three security teams are scheduled to stand-by in case of trouble. Starfleet\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s less than welcome here, and we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re far enough from Federation space that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re on our own should anything come up. Therefore my orders are simple: There won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be any problems. Make it so.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d His best stern stare was rewarded with serious nods all around the table.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lieutenant Marcus and Ensign Canningham will accompany me on an away mission to make contact with a Federation agent. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re taking a full security unit. Cupc\u00e2\u20ac\u201d my dear<\/i> Lieutenant Giotto,<\/i> Lieutenant Davison, and Lieutenant Brenner, tag, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim smiled at the pleased expressions of the officers. After weeks in space, everyone was eager to get on an away mission, never mind how fugly the planet. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll stay in orbit until 2260.178, 2000 hours. Commander Paul is in charge of scheduling the rest of the away teams and shore leave for those crew members who dare to apply for some. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s it from my side. Everybody shoo except for my away people. I need you to stick around to discuss the details of our mission.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He frowned. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Spock, Commander Paul, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re cordially invited to stay as well.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Commander Paul and Spock looked less than pleased. Too bad. But with what was at stake neither Commander nor Lieutenant Paul would get a free pass for New Sydney from him. Plus, the security officers weren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t the only ones on board with feet itching to get off ship for a change … Once in a while captain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s authority came in handy.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Capital of the planet is Jubbulpore, right next to the spaceport. From the transporter platform we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll head down Joy Street to the Plaza of Liberty. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re looking for an agent of the Federation \u00e2\u20ac\u201c Colonel Richard Baslim \u00e2\u20ac\u201c who will be posing as a beggar. Code name is Baslim the Cripple. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve transferred pictures to your PADDs. If he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not out on the street, we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll check the taverns; the Supernova, the Veiled Virgin, and Mother Shaum\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s, some others. The man\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been out of touch for a while. But for a field agent on an unaligned planet, which is nine days subspace lag away from Earth, that doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t necessarily mean anything.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim had those details from Commander Paul, of course. But this was his<\/i> away mission, so he got to do the talking, too.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153When contact has been made, this mission should be a simple matter of exchanging intelligence \u00e2\u20ac\u201c data sticks for alms, most likely. Last but not least, Commander Paul had such a delightful description for the area we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re going to visit that I simply have to share it …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Another glance at his PADD. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ah, yes: \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcbetween the spaceport at the end of the Avenue of Nine and the Plaza of Liberty, anything in the explored universe can be had by a man with cash, from a starship to Arrakeen Spice, from the ruin of a reputation to the robes of a Federation Council member with the councilor still inside.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 <\/i>In other words: constant vigilance, people.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Alright, let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s get this show on the road,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim said and leaned forward to the comm pick-up. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New Sydney. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll stay in orbit until stardate 2260.178, 2000 hours. Beta Two team is currently on command duty. Mr. Spock has the conn. Away teams and groups for shore leave have been scheduled by Commander Paul. If you haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t read the file on New Sydney yet, I suggest you do so ASAP. As a reminder for those who have done their homework: New Sydney is an unaligned planet with a very diverse population and even more interesting crime statistics. Starfleet has no authority here. No one beams down without phasers set to stunning, and dirtside no one goes anywhere alone, not even to the toilet. Have a pleasant stay, and don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get into trouble. Kirk out.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim closed the line and stood. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mr. Spock, have a seat.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s face gave nothing away as he took center chair. All the same, Jim knew that his first officer didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like the arrangements that had been made for their time on New Sydney. And sure, he had a point. Personal safety was an issue. But Jim was sick of all that secret Section 31 shit. After Marcus, after what had happened on Pyrithia, he couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t trust Commander Paul blindly, just because he was Section 31 and supposedly one of the good guys. Yes, Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s investigation was a priority. But Jim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s job was also important. He was responsible for the Enterprise and her entire crew. It was high time to get in on the action.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153My team and I will beam down after we got Scotty and his pergium team dirtside. Keep a close eye on everyone on the planet. I want the transporter room crew to be ready to retrieve everyone ASAP, should that be necessary.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yessir,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Lieutenant Copage Elliot, who normally had the conn on the shifts of the Beta Two team, acknowledged, standing at attention.<\/p>\n
Spock said nothing. It wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t that Jim didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t trust Lieutenant Elliott in the center chair \u00e2\u20ac\u201c or any of the other Command division officers on the primary and secondary shift teams. He did, absolutely; or he wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have signed off on the make-up of the command crews to start with. He just felt much better with Spock in the center chair while he was on the planet.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
In the transporter room, Commander Scott, Lieutenant Chekov, and Lieutenant Keenser were already waiting to beam to the Tigan Mining Consortium, where they would finalize the acquisition of twenty-four kilograms of pergium.<\/p>\n
The rare radioactive element of pergium was essential to maintain the environmental control system of the Enterprise. To be able to lay in an emergency supply of the stuff made Scotty look more relaxed than a dram of real Scottish whisky. Jim hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t thought twice about authorizing the expensive purchase, no matter how much the Finances Department had griped, what with the sum of bribes required to get past customs on New Sydney.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ready for your date with the pergium?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim asked.<\/p>\n
Scotty laughed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nae, ready to hit the pub once we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re done dealing with them bampots at customs. New Sydney\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s supposed to have some pure dead brilliant booze. Haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t had a chance to get properly rubbered since Earth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Vodka, they vill surely have vodka,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Chekov piped up, beaming. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Zis is a mining world; all miners drink vodka. Ancient Russian custom, rewered throughout the galaxy.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Keenser remained, as always, expressionless. But maybe he was only thinking of a favorite Roylan brew that just happened to be served on New Sydney.<\/p>\n
Jim had to stifle the urge to tell the kid not to drink too much. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, have fun, gentlemen.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
White flares of transporter beams enveloped the three officers, and they were gone.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153… and don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get into trouble,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> Jim muttered, now that they couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hear him anymore.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Commander Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s briefing had been comprehensive. But nothing could have prepared Jim for the reality of Liberty Plaza and the auction block for live goods. The pens with the slaves were right next to it, and they reeked with the stink of unwashed bodies and vomit. The air was thick to choking with fear and grief. In front of the auction block, the beggars waited, adding their own touch of misery to the atmosphere. Starving, covered in sores, dressed in rags, they squatted and clawed at the passersby and wheedled alms from buyers who led their new slaves away.<\/p>\n
Spread out in a semi-circle in front of the platform, seats were arrayed in casual rows for the rich and the privileged. Beyond the seats, to the left and the right, waited their servants and slaves, their bodyguards and drivers or bearers. The upper classes of New Sydney preferred sedan chairs to cars, at least in the city. Behind the seats of the rich, the crowds mingled \u00e2\u20ac\u201c commoners and freedmen, street vendors and merchants, pickpockets and diddlers.<\/p>\n
Jim circled the auction area slowly. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d memorized Colonel Baslim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s face in a dozen disguises as well as a courier code. Commander Paul had assured him that Baslim would be on the lookout for Starfleet personnel, attempting to make contact on his own. But although there were dozens of beggars around, tugging at his uniform pants and thrusting their bowls into his face, there was no Baslim.<\/p>\n
Up on the auction block an Orion girl around Jo\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s age was sold. The auctioneer ripped off her dirty shift to expose her too thin, childish body to the scrutiny of the audience. Jim could only watch in helpless terror as the child was dragged off by her new master, a man much older than he was. Another round. Still no Baslim. But Jim noticed at least a full squad of armed men in the dark uniforms of New Sydney police spread around the Plaza. Like customs, the term didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hold the meaning it did in Federation space. Officially, the organization might be called \u00e2\u20ac\u0153police\u00e2\u20ac\u009d. But in reality it was nothing more and nothing less than militarized thugs owned by the Orion Syndicate.<\/p>\n
Sick to his stomach, Jim did the only thing he could \u00e2\u20ac\u201c he turned his back on Liberty Plaza with its despair and depravity and headed back down Joy Street. Not that the atmosphere of that avenue was in the least bit joyful. Thick gray-green layers of fog pressed down on the city. The air tasted like chemicals and burned in his eyes. Grog shops and gambling dens, brothels and theaters lined the avenue, all of them garishly decorated and slightly sleazy. Holding tightly onto his phaser and his comm unit, Jim didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t doubt that every word of the description of Jubbulpore that he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d quoted at the briefing this morning was true. And that was probably putting it mildly. Marcus and Canningham stayed at his side, while the security team spread out around them, one in front, and two behind. They passed the fancy front of a theater called Port of Heaven Cabaret. A fortune teller in the colorful dress of a space gypsy was camped out in front of it. Jim had Gwaloth pay for a reading in order to pass on a message for the V’tosh ka’tur<\/i>. But when the Wraith returned to his side, she could only report that none of their ships had been in orbit for four years. Damn. <\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The Veiled Virgin\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, the first tavern on their list, yielded nothing but a refreshing glass of fermented fruit lemonade \u00e2\u20ac\u201c sunberry crush. They didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have better luck at the next two places. The last pub on the list was the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Supernova\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, the place where Scotty had wanted to go with Chekov and Keenser. If Jim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s team hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t managed to locate Baslim when they got there, at least he would be able to wash away the bad taste that lingered in his mouth in good company. But for now, their next stop was \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mother Shaum\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, a tap room and a lodging house of certain repute on Joy Street near the crewmen\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gate to the spaceport.<\/p>\n
When Jim entered the tavern, most tables were full, packed with a diverse crowd from commoners to spacemen. Beyond the main room, in the hallway between tap room and kitchen, he glimpsed a poor men\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s counter, where even beggars could have a pint in peace. But before he had a chance to look around, he was bodily apprehended by a matron of voluptuous curves and epic dimensions, with bright red curls and purple lipstick, dressed in red gowns with tassels and ruffles in various designs and violent shades of violet.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Let me introduce myself, Captain,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she purred, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I am Mother Shaum, the owner of this fine establishment. It is an honor to welcome you to my humble abode.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d But the way she scanned the room was too hectic. She spared barely a glance for the rest of his team. Jim realized she was trying to discover if they were being followed.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Come,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she urged, when she appeared satisfied that their entry hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t caused any undue notice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Upstairs are private rooms. Follow me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim hesitated, considering the risk. In the end, taking into account his back-up of three security officers plus Marcus and<\/i> a Wraith who could do a mean salt vampire, as well as the vicinity of the official transporter platform and thus three additional security teams on stand-by up on the Enterprise, he decided to go with her.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Giotto,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he ordered. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You wait here. Try to be inconspicuous.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He pointed next to the stairs. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Davison and Brenner, mingle, but don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t do anything stupid. You two,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he gestured to Marcus and Canningham, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153come with me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He turned to Mother Shaum. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lead on.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The pub owner headed up the stairs, massive hips swaying with frills of red fabric. But she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t lead them into a private dining room. Instead she took another stair up to the topmost floor, to her own private rooms by the look of it. In a cozy living room she left them standing between a couple of couches and armchairs with sage upholstery. She hurried across the room and disappeared through a door at the back \u00e2\u20ac\u201c into her bedroom? For a moment Jim wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sure if she expected them to follow her there, too. Thankfully, she returned a few seconds later, pushing a small figure ahead of her.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thank goodness you showed up on your own, Captain,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Shaum said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153With all them snoopers around, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d no idea how to get hold of you for that rascal here without putting my own life on the line.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim frowned. In front of him stood a painfully thin, young boy. He looked younger than Jo, perhaps eight or nine at the most. Dressed in rags he looked like one of the beggar boys Jim had seen at the auction block. His skin had a greenish hue. He stared at him with almond-shaped, black eyes under sharply slanted eyebrows. Long, matted black hair peeked out from under a dirty turban that hid the boy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s ears. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What in hell …?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I am Thorby,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the boy said in a high, monotone voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Son of Baslim the Cripple. I have a message for you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Closing his eyes, the kid started to rattle off a missive \u00e2\u20ac\u201c in German of all things, one of the lesser known Earth languages still used by field agents of Section 31 when effective communication was more important than absolute secrecy: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153An den Captain des Sternenflottenraumschiffs momentan im Orbit von New Sydney, von Baslim dem Kr\u00c3\u00bcppel: Ich spreche zu Ihnen durch meinen Adoptivsohn. Wenn Sie diese Nachricht empfangen, bin ich bereits tot\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u009dTo the Captain of the Starfleet ship currently in orbit around New Sydney, from Baslim the Cripple,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> Jim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s translator echoed Thorby\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s words. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I am speaking to you through my adopted son. When you receive this message, I am already dead …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim interrupted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Baslim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s dead? How did that happen?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How would I know?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mother Shaum shrugged. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The police picked him up. The word is, he died or poisoned himself, or something, before they could question him.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim turned his attention back to Thorby. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Go on.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u201dbin ich bereits tot. Mein Sohn ist alles, was mir noch bleibt; ich vertraue ihn Ihrem Schutz an. Ich bitte darum, ihn nach Neu-Vulkan zu bringen oder nach Arrakis, zur Kolonie von Sybok, Sohn von Sarek, oder auf ein Schiff der V\u00e2\u20ac\u2122tosh ka\u00e2\u20ac\u2122tur<\/i>, in der Hoffnung, seine Identit\u00c3\u00a4t festzustellen und ihn mit seiner Familie wiederzuvereinen. Insofern vertraue ich auf Ihr Urteilsverm\u00c3\u00b6gen. Ich habe ihm befohlen, Ihren Anweisungen zu folgen, und bin sicher, dass er das tun wird; er ist ein guter Junge. Jetzt muss ich mich dem Ende stellen. Meine Mission war nicht ohne Erfolg; ich bin zufrieden. Leben Sie wohl.\u00e2\u20ac\u0153<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 I am already dead,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> the translator went on. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153My son is the only thing of value left to me; I entrust him into your care. I ask that you deliver him to New Vulcan or that you bring him to Arrakis, the colony of Sybok, son of Sarek, or that you arrange passage for him on any vessel of the V\u00e2\u20ac\u2122tosh ka\u00e2\u20ac\u2122tur, in the hope to establish his identity and restore him to his people. I trust in your good judgment in the matter. I have enjoined him to obey you, and I believe that he will; he is a good lad. Now I must face the end. My mission has not been without success; I am content. Farewell …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s more.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Thorby opened his eyes, then squeezed them almost shut again in pain. A grimace of agony contorted his thin face. He went on regardless, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Correct authorization is required. Provide the code, please.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not now, not here,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim cut him off. Baslim was dead. The information he was supposed to retrieve for Commander Paul wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t a data stick but a kid. And it looked like getting the data out of his head seriously hurt. Shit.<\/i> \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Baslim told you to do what I say, is that right?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Affirmative,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d was the stoic reply.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Good.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Baslim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s request, and the boy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s appearance \u00e2\u20ac\u201c greenish pale skin, almond eyes, slanted eyebrows, hidden ears \u00e2\u20ac\u201c he must be Vulcan. How had a Vulcan youngster ended up as the adoptive son of a beggar-cum-secret-agent on New Sydney? But that and any other questions had to wait. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll come with me to the spaceport and on my ship. Agreed?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Mother Shaum interrupted, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You mean to take him on your ship?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Any objections?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t in the mood for discussions.<\/p>\n
The pub owner shrugged. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Huh, me? None at all. If you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t care that the police rack him apart.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Snoopers,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mother Shaum said succinctly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Six units at least, between here and the transporter platform of the spaceport. The frequencies outside official transporter areas have been jammed for two days. Every Syndicate copper on the planet is greedy for the reward put out on his head. And they monitor beaming. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll know the second you beam someone up who didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t come down with you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a reward out for the kid?<\/i>\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim wanted to groan. Was that what the presence of those goons at the auction block and in the streets was about? Damn it!<\/i> He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d had a bad feeling about New Sydney from the beginning. Really, really bad. Back on the ship he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have to make time for another chat with Bones concerning psionic potential and esper ratings.<\/p>\n
The matron just shook her head at him. As if he were stupid or something. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why do you think I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve hidden him in my own bedroom? He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s as hot as bubbling cheese.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, shit.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim scratched his head. He had to think fast. No telling if their presence and the personal welcome from Mother Shaum had already been noticed. There was no question that they had to rescue the kid, information or no information, and never mind Baslim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s request. There was simply no way Jim would leave the boy behind. No way in hell. But how to get him on the Enterprise if the Syndicate scanned beam-ups? How to smuggle the boy out of here and to safety? How could he hide a little kid in a way to fool security scanners? Then a thought hit him. A crazy idea, sure, but it just might work …<\/p>\n
He pulled out the comm and hit the code for Engineering, secret emergency frequency. He could only hope that line was as secret as Gaila and Uhura had promised. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lieutenant Amell? Are the pergium containers up there already?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Almost, sir,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the lieutenant replied. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been a delay with customs. They had to scan everything three times to make sure there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s only pergium in it and nothing else. Kind of warped security measures for a planet that makes one third of its gross domestic product with smuggling. But we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got everything sorted out now. We should have them up in thirty.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Belay that,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim ordered. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Something\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s come up. An … extra shipment. Can you get down to the transporter area without rousing suspicion to help with stowing it? And make sure we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re alone down there?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got the all clear from customs. I can tell them I need to do one last safety check. They don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t care about radiation hazards here, especially now that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve paid the bribes. You wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe the readings we took in the warehouse … You need to go to warehouse platform 312a \u00e2\u20ac\u201c and there shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be anyone in the area now. I can be down in ten, Captain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Make that twenty, I still need to get there myself. Bring suits. For you, me, and a small one, kid-size. And some decontam foam. We need to get rid of the contents of a pergium container without triggering an alarm. Watch your back. Kirk out.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He put the comm away and turned to Mother Shaum. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Alright. We need to get the kid into the spaceport, to warehouse platform 312a. Can you help with that?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course, Captain,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mother Shaum promised. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the least I can do. Baslim was a good man.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Mother Shaum\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s help consisted in stuffing Thorby into the seat cube of her sedan chair, and bundling herself up on top of him. Jim was forced on his knees in front of her, head obscenely squashed against her ample bosom. As a final flourish, she drenched him with the worst perfumed liquor he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d ever smelled. The idea was that he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d had too good a time with her. And because he was such a special customer, she was now aiding him to get back to his ship as unobtrusively as possible. To support the story, he sent Marcus, Canningham and the security team on to the Supernova. They could keep an eye out for trouble, and they more than deserved a pint by now.<\/p>\n
The sweet scent of the liquor, the stuffy heat inside the sedan chair, and the swaying motion made Jim increasingly nauseated. He wondered how he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d ever thought that female breasts of ample size and softness could be a thing of erotic beauty. Thankfully, it didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t take the chair long to reach the Traders\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Gate of the spaceport \u00e2\u20ac\u201c twenty minutes, tops. Beyond the gate, the outlines of many warehouses loomed. Adjacent to each building was a transporter area, where shipments were inspected, customs were declared, and finally all goods were piled up on a platform to get beamed up to the relevant starships.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Open up!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mother Shaum snapped at the guards.<\/p>\n
From the corner of his eyes, Jim realized with a measure of relief that there were only two guards at the gate at this time of the night. One was standing in the little watchroom of the gate barracks, the other was lounging outside, with a bottle next to his chair. Now he rose to his feet and came over. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153My lady has a pass?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The man bent forward to peer into the sedan chair. Promptly, Jim affected a swoon into Mother Shaum\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s bosom, while praying he wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t throw up on her.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t breathe and think of the Federation, <\/i>Jim told himself, while his heart pounded like crazy and his stomach contorted.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the guard repeated. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I see. You errr…<\/i> you may pass. Ahem.<\/i> Platform 312a.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
As promised, the platform was empty save for Lieutenant Amell. Jim stumbled out of the sedan chair and slumped down, valiantly fighting his need to vomit. On the transporter pads, twelve wine-barrel sized casks with the pergium sat ready for beaming. Mother Shaum pulled a dazed Thorby out of his hiding place inside the seat.<\/p>\n
After a bone-crushing, breath-taking, brain-numbing hug, Shaum got back into the sedan chair. Urging the bearers not to dawdle, she disappeared in the darkness beyond the transporter platforms.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Captain …?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Lieutenant Amell asked cautiously.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Everything\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s fine,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim said and wheezed. An allergy on top of everything else. Great. Either the liquor or the perfume or both. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lieutenant, we need to empty one of the tons and hide the kid in it. Do you have the suits and the foam ready? I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d rather not expose us to more radiation than strictly necessary. Spending hours in decontamination is no fun.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Amell pointed at the equipment she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d spread out behind the containers.<\/p>\n
He turned to Thorby. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Can you do something for me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The boy just stared at him, expressionless. Jim had no idea if that was Vulcan stoicism or shock.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You need to get into the suit this lady here has for you. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll help you. And then you need to climb into this barrel here. Just for a short time. Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t worry. You need to be very very still. Meditate, perhaps. It won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t take long. And then you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re safe. I promise.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The boy didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t move. Jim was pretty sure that Vulcan control had nothing to do with his behavior now. The kid looked more or less frozen in panic.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thorby, I know Baslim told you to do what I say. And I know you promised to obey him,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim said gently. Breathing was getting harder. Damn those allergies. And they were completely exposed out here. Any second someone could notice them. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d order to beam them up right away in a pinch, of course, never mind the reward on Thorby\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s head and the security scans of the local authorities. But the problem was, he had no idea how the PTTB of New Sydney would react \u00e2\u20ac\u201c would they talk or fire without questions asked? He also didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know if they could or would send ships after them if the Enterprise simply warped out of the system as fast as Scotty could get them away from this hellhole. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Please, Thorby.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Lieutenant Amell held out one of Keenser\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s small suits for the boy. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153C\u00e2\u20ac\u2122mere, sweetie. Let me help you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Without a word, with shaking hands, the child reached for the suit.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Kid\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sleeping now,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bones said and wearily sat at his desk. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve given him as much of the good drugs as I dared. He should be asleep until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. But Vulcan metabolism isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t an exact science, especially at that age and in his condition. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like Spock to be here when he wakes, if that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s possible.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim slumped back in the visitor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s chair. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Good. Thanks. Spock will be here.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He sucked in the last dose of his inhaler, and then put it away with a relieved sigh. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay, a summary will have to do. First the kid, then me. Spock should be back any minute now from breaking up that pub brawl. No idea how bad that was, but there are probably up to eight crew members involved: Scotty, Chekov, Keenser, Marcus, Canningham, Brenner, Davison, and Giotto. No idea if everyone ended up hurt, but better be prepared.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Bones looked ready to rebel, but Jim shook his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No time now. Thorby?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The boy is Vulcan. As in born on Vulcan; the scans are clear on that. Ten years old. Thankfully no trace of radiation made it through the suit. He is moderately healthy. Malnourished, worm-riddled, with old scars covering most of the body, but no recent injuries. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been whipped and abused in the past, but not in the last nine months. Slave tattoo on his right leg. Brain scan\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s abysmal for a Vulcan \u00e2\u20ac\u201c brain activity all over the place. M\u00e2\u20ac\u2122Benga thinks it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s trauma and severed bonds, perhaps dating back to … to when the planet was destroyed. I hope Mr. Spock will be able to make better sense of it. Maybe he can meld with the boy, look at him from the inside.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Bones shrugged helplessly. His eyes had a haunted look. No wonder after spending an hour counting scars on the fragile body of an unconscious child.<\/p>\n
Jim tried to come up with something useful to say. But there was nothing, just the memory of the slave pens, the naked little girl up on the auction block, that pervasive, gut-wrenching stink of fear and grief. In the end he just nodded. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thank you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Jim had the miscreants lined up on the other side of his desk. For a moment he just sat there, thinking how much he wanted to be somewhere else and not deal with this kind of shit right now.<\/p>\n
One thing was sure, if there ever was an altercation with more people involved, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have to move happy hour to a conference room or the brig. Eight officers with expressions ranging from blank through sheepish to rebellious was the absolute maximum of what his office could hold.<\/p>\n
Also, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have to talk to Bones. Jim thought he got the doctor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s message. McCoy wanted to teach a lesson about the limits of his tolerance for pub brawls, and how that affected the quality of first aid rendered on his sickbay. Jim just wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sure about the effect on crew morale in this case. Eight officers limping around the Enterprise with black eyes and fat lips after drinking games with Klingons might not be the best idea Bones ever had.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I want to know who started it,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim said. Most of all, he was pretty tired by now. He was in no mood for taking any kind of disciplinary action. With a sigh, he dragged himself to his feet and paced in front of the crew members standing at attention. Finally he stopped in front of Marcus. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I’m waiting.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Marcus\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s left eye was swollen shut. Her right arm was in a sling. Groggily, she blinked at him with her good eye. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lieutenant Marcus, who started the fight?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Marcus cleared her throat. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don’t know, sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
That was possible. If the fight had started before she and the rest of his away team had hit the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Supernova\u00e2\u20ac\u009d. He turned to Chekov and did his best to keep a completely straight face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay. Chekov, buddy. I know you. You started it, didn’t you?<\/p>\n
The kid flushed bright red. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, sir, I didn’t.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim rolled his eyes. Of course the kid hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t started anything. Everyone knew that. But someone had started something, and someone was going to have to tell the captain something about how it all went down. The boy was simply the most promising candidate for providing the information Jim needed. When he didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say anything else, Jim asked, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, who did?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
This was getting ridiculous. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m the captain, damn it, not an elementary school teacher! <\/i>Jim thought and almost groaned when he realized that he sounded just like Bones.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don’t know, sir,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Chekov replied.<\/p>\n
And that, Jim knew, was a lie. It was nearly midnight. By now Jim had been awake for twenty hours. He had smelled the stink of slavery up close and way too personal. He had nearly suffocated thanks to yet another awesome allergic reaction. In sickbay a traumatized little Vulcan was waiting to have his brains squished through a sieve because there was secret Section 31 data stored somewhere in his head. And now a member of his command crew was standing in front of him and lying to his face about a stupid pub brawl with some Klingon jerks.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don’t know, sir,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> Jim repeated, his voice harsh with sarcasm. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brilliant. No more shore leave for you guys until I find out what happened.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d That was the best idea he could come up with at short notice. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d talk it over with Spock at breakfast tomorrow. Or with Commander Paul. He had to talk with the man anyway. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dismissed.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Out they went. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Scotty, not you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d In a last ditch effort, Jim stopped the engineer. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Talk to me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim returned to his desk and slumped down. Normally he was not the kind of captain to sit while letting others stand at attention. But he was willing to make an exception tonight. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Who threw the first punch, Scotty?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I did, Captain,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Scotty mumbled. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153They insulted us, sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Then he clammed up again.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Scotty, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s way too late for this shit. Would you please start talking, so we can go to bed? There are bigger problems on our plate right now than a damn pub brawl. How am I supposed to deal with the difficult stuff if you won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t talk to me about the easy things?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim smacked the table with a flat palm. Scotty blinked and finally met his eyes. Progress.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Um\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/i> well, the Klingons, sir\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 Is this off the record?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Scotty shifted uncomfortably on his feet.<\/p>\n
Okay, no, just … no.<\/i> Jim was now officially at the end of his tether. Ship\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s discipline might not be his forte, but that was absurd. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, damn it, this is not<\/i> off the record!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Scotty stared at him for a moment. Something in his expression must have given away how pissed off he was, because Scotty paled and kept talking. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The Klingons called you, uh\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/i> it doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t translate very well, what they said.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I suggest you try, Mr. Scott.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d When Scotty grew even paler and swayed on his feet, Jim frowned, suddenly more worried than annoyed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And for god\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sake sit down, man. Whatever did those Klingons do to you anyway?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just a cut,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Scotty insisted. But he awkwardly sat down, favoring his right side. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And what they said, well, they called you something along the lines of wannabe Frankenstein and radiation roast. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s when Chekov wanted to punch them, but I held him back.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
At first Jim only wondered how Klingons came to read Mary Shelley. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I see. And after they said all this, that’s when you hit the Klingons?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, sir. I didn’t. You told us to avoid trouble,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Scotty said firmly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And I didn’t see that it was worth fighting about. After all, we’re big enough to take a few insults. Aren’t we?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Then what the hell did they say that started the fight?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim was grinding his teeth now, Bones\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s lectures about dental health be damned. How could a man who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d just been nearly filleted by Klingons be so stubborn?<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153They called the Enterprise a garbage scow, sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim threw back his head and laughed.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, sir,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Scotty said, sheepish and rebellious at the same time. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It was a matter of pride, then.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course. They insulted your lady love.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim shook his head and rolled his eyes for good measure. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dismissed. Oh\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 and Scotty, you’re restricted to quarters until we have to get out of orbit.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. That’ll give me a chance to uh…<\/i> catch up on my technical journals.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Scotty grinned a little too happily at that idea, but at this point Jim simply didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t care anymore.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Instead of heading to his cabin and going to bed, which would have been the sensible thing to do, Jim took the turbolift to deck seven and walked to the private room in sickbay where Thorby was sleeping.<\/p>\n
He didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t enter, just stood at the door. He didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even know what had compelled him to come down here again. Thorby wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t wake up for hours yet.<\/p>\n
The little boy looked lost in the big biobed. Someone had washed and combed his hair. It was much too long for a Vulcan and curling ever so slightly. The delicate tip of a pointed ear peeked through the glossy black strands on one side of his pointy face.<\/p>\n
Next to the bed, Nurse Oli sat with a lit-up PADD. She was reading to the kid, in a very low, very soothing voice. And … in Vulcan, Jim realized. He listened carefully. Vulcan … songs? He frowned. Nyota had mentioned something about Vulcan songs, he recalled. Lieutenant Milekey, the guy in charge of the Enterprise music group was doing a remix of Vulcan and Terran songs as the group\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s first big project. That must be the collection of songs Nyota had been talking about. He hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t known Oli was in the band.<\/p>\n
Jim kept standing in front of the door for a while. Oli\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s voice was gentle and calming. In his mind, however, Jim heard different voices. A boy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s voice and the voice of a dead man: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I am speaking to you through my adopted son. When you receive this message, I am already dead …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
When Jim entered his cabin, he gratefully noticed that the bathroom doors were open. Both of them. And Spock was still awake. Dressed in Vulcan robes of black silk, he sat curled up on his meditation rock in the tightest traditional posture.<\/p>\n
Jim changed quickly, putting on standard black PJs \u00e2\u20ac\u201c short ones. He kept the temperature in his cabin as high as Spock preferred these days. If he didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to be prepared to get out of bed and up on the bridge at a moment\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s notice and at any hour, he would have loved to sleep naked in that kind of heat. Without a word, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He even remembered to comb his hair. Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s positive influence, no doubt. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll turn me into a neat freak yet,<\/i> Jim thought with a wry smile.<\/p>\n
A moment later, he stepped into Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s cabin. At once the other man unfolded from his seat, a quick, graceful movement. Just to stand in front of Spock now, at the end of this day, made life easier. Jim exhaled in a deep sigh. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m too tired to even talk about it all at the moment, Spock. Sorry.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The command crew has been kept up to date,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock reminded him. At least he hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t addressed him as \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Captain\u00e2\u20ac\u009d. Wearing nothing but PJs that would be too weird.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, I know …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim slowly shook his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not what I meant. I know you always know everything.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He rubbed at his eyes. They were burning with fatigue. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not facts and briefings, Spock. Talking.<\/i>\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ah.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock inclined his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153An informal conversation to relieve the tension of the day.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, that. Only, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m too tired.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153There is no need to apologize for that, Jim,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock said evenly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It is your need, not mine, that remains unassuaged, after all.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Told you I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m tired. And we need to get up really early tomorrow … in a few hours … later … to get the hell away from New Sydney and out of this system.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He knew that didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t make sense as a reply to Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s comment, but he wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t up to Vulcan politeness tonight. Jim took another deep breath, almost a yawn. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Spock?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Would you mind tonight … I just don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to be …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even bring himself to say the word. Alone.<\/i><\/p>\n
But he didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t need to. Without another word, Spock drew him over to his bed. He climbed in first, then pulled Jim down to lie in front of him. Vulcan warmth enveloped Jim.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hmmm… <\/i>Nice. Like that nap after we found Jo,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he mumbled, already half asleep. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just one more thing …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Eyes closed, he reached out in an awkward gesture with his right hand. Hot fingers captured his.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Guh…\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> he sighed. Warm. Safe. Not alone.<\/p>\n
Jim didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know if he heard the reply, or felt it, or dreamed it: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, not alone. Never alone.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Alone. Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\u00e2\u20ac\u201c Stephen King<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u00a2 Pergium used for the environmental control system for filter regeneration is canon for Voyager, Intrepid-class starships. But as pergium is also mentioned in TOS canon, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s likely that it was already used in environmental systems on starships in 2260.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u00a2 \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Constant vigilance\u00e2\u20ac\u009d is of course a hat-tip to Alastor Moody from Joanne K. Rowling\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Harry Potter\u00e2\u20ac\u009d.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u00a2 Thorby & Baslim-the-Cripple are from \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Citizen of the Galaxy\u00e2\u20ac\u009d by Robert A. Heinlein. Thorby was human in that one, of course. The way the scene unfolds follows CotG canon. Parts of the description and the dialogue are based on or quoted directly from the book, for example the wonderful description of Jubbulpore, which is originally: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Its inhabitants brag that within a li of the pylon at the spaceport end of the Avenue of Nine anything in the explored universe can be had by a man with cash, from a starship to ten grains of stardust, from the ruin of a reputation to the robes of a senator with the senator inside.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u00a2 The pub brawl & the interrogation scene are inspired by the TOS episode \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Trouble with Tribbles\u00e2\u20ac\u009d; parts of the dialogue are quoted verbatim from the script.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Hell Is Only A Poor Synonym Stardate 2260.175, 0800 hours, Deck 10, Conference Lounge One \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll enter orbit around New Sydney at 1200 hours, with the Beta Two team on the bridge for the first orbital shift and Mr. Spock … Continue reading