Title: The Bully Author: Istannor Series: TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: [PG13] Codes: Lang. Summary: I have decided to clean out my hard drive. So, this story is set in the fourth year of the first five year voyage and it is told entirely from the viewpoint of a psychobiologist who is aboard the Enterprise to discern what makes their command team work.. Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them I I only check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back. Copyright Stardust Memories Again 1999 The Bully Jason Kluge was a big man, heavy-boned, tall and imposing. He enjoyed his size; at times he reveled in it, and this was one of those times. He had just recently been transferred to the USS Enterprise from her sister Ship, the Sullivan. Kluge had been a boson's mate on that starship. Reputedly, he was an engineering genius, but an incident with the Chief engineer had erupted into a war of wills that Kluge had lost. Starfleet in its infinite wisdom wanted to keep the genius part of his engineering skill, and rid themselves of his personality problems. Cartwright had decided that Kluge needed the Enterprise. If he couldn't be brought into the fold there, he would be lost to them. Therefore, Kirk got him with all his baggage in tow. Kluge was a bully. He was often petty and mean-spirited. It was only his obvious skills that had gotten him onto a starship. His genius was undeniable, and his glaring flaws were equally clear. Today, he was torturing a yeoman for forgetting to accurately document information in the repair log for the gas reclamation conduits. He stood over him, purposefully close, breathing into his face while he shouted his displeasure at him. His joy at young Yeoman Stevens discomfort was painfully obvious. He was having a ball watching him cringe and basking in his power to intimidate. Kluge was so loud and involved that he did not hear Commander Montgomery Scott walk up quietly behind him. Scott walked around in front of Kluge's line of sight to stand behind the Yeoman and the tirade died abruptly. "And just what in Heaven's name do you think you're doin' disrespectin' this boy and my engineering room with your hollerin'?" "Sir." Kluge stepped back immediately. "Yeoman Stevens did not properly log off on his maintenance of the reclamation conduits. I was reprimanding him, Sir. No telling what could have happened if one of those pipes burst or started to leak." "As a matter of fact, I know exactly what happens when they burst, Kluge; it's happened before. I also know that screaming in a yeoman's face does nae make him work better, only scared. You will not run one of my staff off. Do you hear me, Kluge?" "Yes, Sir," Kluge was a bully, but he was not a fool about engineering. He knew Scotty was the reigning engineering genius of Starfleet. He was a God to all burgeoning talents, and Kluge had just enough control to know to back off. He wanted badly to continue to work with Scotty and even though he didn't agree with what he had told him to do, he nodded, "Yes, Sir, Sorry, I was probably a little overboard." "See that it doesn't happen again, Sonny, or I'll have you cleaning my bairns with a toothbrush." "Yes, Sir." "Dismissed. Mister Stevens, come with me." The relieved and rescued young man turned gratefully to accompany Scotty into his office. Commander Scott was just as thorough in his reprimand but his purpose was to educate and grow a product, not to destroy a soul. Kluge returned to his quarters and slammed his PADD down on his desk. Things flew for a while as he took out his frustration on the furniture, books, and knickknacks. When his rage and frustration had finally cooled, he began to plot his revenge against the young man who had caused his embarrassment. There was not a glimmer of an idea from Kluge that he was responsible for his own predicament. Bullies never take responsibility for their own acts; it was always someone else's fault. When Kluge's roommate walked into their quarters, it was into the brooding silence of Kluge's exhausted tantrum. Zeke Powell was a redshirt, security for the Enterprise. He was even taller than Kluge, with hair slightly graying and dangerously close to non- regulation length. Kluge didn't scare him, he just irritated him. Kluge knew well enough not to try to use his tactics on him. So, they co-existed, not peaceably, but more like two nuclear powers watching each other warily across the border zone. Kirk had purposefully put the two together to let some of Powell's better traits rub off on Kluge. Where Kluge was selfish, Powell was loyal. Kluge's need to dominate and intimidate was reflected back from Powell's dedication to compromise and peaceful resolutions. The only thing they did have in common was ambition. They both wanted to be the best. Privately Powell thought someone would probably break Jason's neck before he ever got past his personal demons. He sighed in quiet exasperation and began to clean the cabin up. The command crew of the Enterprise waited in the transporter room for their official visitor to beam over from the courier ship from Earth. Kirk rested against the console casually and Spock was at the controls. Bones was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was to be the official escort for their new guest, and he wore a sour expression that spoke volumes concerning his thoughts on the assignment. Starfleet had sent out a social interactive Psychobiologist to spend time with each crew of all their Constitution Class ships. It now was the Enterprise's turn in the rotation. For the next two weeks, or so, they would be studied like bugs under a lens. Some deskbound paper jockey had decided that they needed to be able to understand and quantify what made the best command crew, what configuration of personalities produced the best results, and what mix was explosive. Five other ships had already been studied and dissected and now the spotlight was on the Enterprise and Kirk. The idea just plain annoyed McCoy and he couldn't say why. He could've told them why the Enterprise was the best ship of the line. He could have also told them that the why was neither quantifiable nor reproducible. The why was Kirk ...and Spock he admitted begrudgingly. No studying in the galaxy was going to turn anyone else into him. He also didn't want anyone messing with his friends' heads. That was his job and he guarded it jealously. Jim had told McCoy that if he wasn't on his best behavior, Kirk would toss McCoy's collection of exotic ales. McCoy knew that he was probably not joking. So, he had vowed to himself to be a gentleman and try not to bite off anyone's head for the duration, then he hid his ale. The transporter beam shimmered and coalesced into a woman, earth normal, small, of Polynesian descent. She had a pleasant smile on her round face as she stepped down to greet the command Crew. "Captain, I am Dr. Caron Jass from Starfleet Department of Psychiatry. I am honored to meet you. You have no idea how much I've heard about you." Kirk smiled his second most charming smile and shook her hand as he led her across to meet his Officers. "Dr. Jass, allow me to introduce you to my First Officer, Commander Spock, and my CMO, Dr. Leonard McCoy. Dr. McCoy will be your official guide during your stay on the Enterprise and he will do his utmost to make you feel welcome. Isn't that right, Dr. McCoy?" Kirk wore a look that dared McCoy to contradict him. McCoy knew that look too well to do anything else but smile, and agree wholeheartedly. "It is going to be my pleasure to be your guide, ma'am; Leonard McCoy at your service. By your leave, Captain, I'll escort Dr. Jass to her quarters and get her situated. Then I will take her on a tour of the ship." "Excellent idea, Doctor." Kirk beamed back at him, "Doctor Jass, if you will excuse Mr. Spock and myself, duty calls." He left them standing as a yeoman entered and went to grab her bags and follow behind McCoy. They went directly to her assigned guest quarters. Whether by design or by accident, Dr. Jass was a delightful character. She seemed totally at ease on the Starship and full of infectious good cheer. McCoy was still laughing at one of her stories about her trip to meet the Enterprise when they reached her quarters. He sat companionably by as she unpacked and listened to her pleasant conversation for a while before he finally asked her the question that had been worrying him. "Okay give, just what do you plan to do with all the information that you collect? What newfangled, harebrained, theories are you are trying to prove or disprove that has you out here in space, raking over our minds with a fine tooth comb?" Jass smiled, she was use to the questions. She had gotten the same ones at her last five stops. McCoy was just faster on the draw and a lot less hostile for which she was grateful. The paranoid hostility she had faced initially on each ship had been draining. Perhaps this time it would be better, and she would have fewer barriers put in front of her. Some part of her had been waiting for this particular ship with greater anticipation than all her other previous encounters. "I thought you'd never ask, Leonard. Everything I find out, or conclude, will only be shared on a need to know basis, at the highest ranks of Starfleet. The personal notes are not as important as finding out if there are any predictable rules for what works best on the bridge of a Starship. If we can find that out by studying what we have already put on the bridges, maybe we will be better in the future at identifying the perfect or best mix for success." "The command team of the Enterprise is already a legend and your Captain is still not forty. Everyone wanted to know what makes it tick and run so well. I plan to identify the main ingredients, so that the composition of future Command teams will never be haphazard and so dependent on the personal whims of Starfleet again. A starship is alot of destructive power to turn over to the hands of a patchwork quilt. I want to codify guidelines for what types of personalities are best suited to each other and to the job, and if I do it right, I will be famous, at least in psychobiology." "What works best on the bridge is Kirk and Spock. How the hell are you going to reproduce that?" "That is what we have yet to discover, Leonard. You wouldn't want me to end the study without doing my level best to reach a fair and unbiased conclusion; would you? After all, I can't sign off with "the conclusion is clone Kirk and Spock". People would talk and I would have to sign your name instead of mine to the work, to hide my embarrassment." Her smile was open and McCoy found the scientist in him actually intrigued by the concept. "You know that sounds sort of interesting. I guess I can help you with that." "You mean you weren't going to at first." "If I thought for a minute that you were going to do something to hurt Jim, or Spock, you would have gotten as much help as I would give the Klingon high Command at my own execution." He answered honestly. "I actually appreciate your candor. I really feel that this trip is going to be truly informative. In record time, I have already discovered that you are unusually protective of your top two officers and it wasn't even painful." He laughed, "Come with me, Madame. My fearless leader said to give you the royal tour and that is what I'm going to do." He held out his arm and she accepted the offer eagerly. It was her intention to go non-stop until she found the heart and soul of the ship. Kluge was in the rec room when Ensign Jenner came in. "Damn," she swore under her breath, when she saw him. Kluge had become increasingly intrusive with his unwanted attentions. She had already considered taking it to Chief Scott, but she was reluctant to take that step. She preferred avoiding him until he got the message, but her timing was horrible, lately. He popped up everywhere she went, when she was off duty. She purposefully took a seat with some of her friends from botany as they played divide and conquer, the new rage holographic interactive role-playing game. Kluge, never one to take a hint, slid in beside her almost as soon as she took her seat. "I was waiting for you, Catherine. I saved a seat for us over at the other table so we can talk." "I am busy here, Jason. I am up next and I have made some modifications to my character that is going to wear them out." "I sure would like you to wear me out, Catherine," Kluge leered. He was wearing his best look of open seduction. Catherine turned to him in complete exasperation. "You are one dense bastard, Jason. How many times do I have to say no, before you leave me alone? I am not interested," she whispered fiercely. "If you keep bothering me, I will not be so nice with my next no." Kluge leaned and grabbed her angrily, "You better watch your smartass mouth, little lady. Someone like you ought to be happy I even pay you any attention." "Ms. Jenner, is there a problem here?" A deep even baritone asked from behind her. Catherine turned to find Spock standing behind her and looking at Kluge as if he had just found an interesting rock. "Nothing I can't handle, Sir, thank-you." "Very well, Ms. Jenner. I am available if the need for assistance arises." The Vulcan nodded solemnly and turned to go and sit with Uhura, who was waiting for him to play the lyre with her in a duet. Kluge cursed under his breath, "Now this bitch had done it. Anything that half-breed Vulcan knows, Kirk knows, so now I'm in hot water with the Captain and the Chief. What else can go wrong?" He angrily stalked out of the rec room. Dr. Jass began her study of the Enterprise by scheduling half hour interviews with all the department heads on the ship to start in twenty-four hours. The next day, she let Leonard show her around the ship and she tried to get a sense of its personality. All of the ships she had been on to date had an identifying feel to them. The Sullivan had been very military and formal. The Excalibur had been cold and full of distances between the crew. The Powell had been so informal almost everyone was on a first name basis. They all worked though, but they all were unique. She sniffed, listened, and felt for the pulse of the Enterprise. Who was she? What stories would she tell? Certain impressions were overwhelming. Whatever else the Enterprise was, it was brimming with confidence. There was no mistaking the sense of calm assurance that everyone walked around with. They all seemed to move with a sense of purpose; even the ones off duty and most had a smile on their face. It was a very pleasant atmosphere without the casualness she had seen before. All the on duty personnel were militarily correct and had a warmness which spoke of trust and friendship. The off duty crew seemed close enough to share secret jokes and smiles. It made her smile and want to see more. She went to sleep with her mind on what the future would show her. Her first interview was with Lt. Sulu, the navigator for the giant ship. He seemed to be open and friendly. Sulu sat down with a smile on his face. They spent the first part of the interview reviewing his own history and verifying some things on his record. "Mr. Sulu, you have been offered several berths on other ships that would be a promotion for you, yet you remain here, why?" "I have too much to learn to leave. I didn't think those other ships would serve my purposes as well as staying here." "What do you mean by that?" "Well, ma'am, Captain Kirk is the best Captain in Starfleet and I don't see why I should settle for learning from the runner- ups. When I am ready to go, he will make sure that I get a ship. I am not worried about it." "What is it that you still want to learn from him, Lieutenant?" "How to lead, and make people believe in you so they will do the impossible for you. I watch him everyday and even when we have been sitting counting down to destruct; no one ever gives up hope. We know he is still working on a plan. He gets the last bit out of us that we can give and we are happy to give it. I want to be able to do that before I get my own ship." "What do you think is the secret to the success of the Enterprise, Mr. Sulu?" Dr. Jass asked towards the end of their interview. "Trust," was his instant response. "Please explain your response for me." "The Captain trusts us implicitly and explicitly to do our best and we in turn trust him to be the best. No one wants to ever disappoint him, so we don't, and we win because he is everything that he is advertised to be. We all want to make him happy. Pretty simple when you think about it, really." "But, what makes you want to make him happy?" "When he is happy with you he tells you and that makes you feel nine feet tall. You can feel it when you have done a great job and you just want to feel like that repeatedly, so you keep pushing your own envelope." "The Captain travels all over this ship on all the shifts and finds out what everyone is doing. He is just as likely to turn up in geology one night as engineering and go over the report that you finished and submitted, never thinking that anyone would ever read it. When the new ones figure out that not only does he read them all, but also if he has questions, he will come ask you. If he thinks you've done a good job, he will tell you that personally, too. You should see them all turn around, and start walking a little taller, and prouder after he tells them he liked something they did. I want to be able to do that, and then I will take my ship. It will still be there." Later Jass sat in the room alone, holding off the next interview until she could gather her thoughts. She decided to move Kirk's interview back to last and added a few names to her list. She pulled out her questionnaire and graded Sulu's responses for consistency with the interview. He had answered all the questions in a manner that supported everything he had told her. Whether or not it was reality, Sulu was living as if it his beliefs were real. Fascinating, some of the same attributes had been seen in followers of cults in the past. Jass hoped and prayed that Kirk wasn't another Garth, which would be truly disappointing. Her next interview was with Lt. Uhura. She was the head of the vast communications and translation departments of the ship. She had been on the Enterprise before Kirk. She, like the rest, had refused to transfer off. Uhura entered the room with a peculiar grace that was calming and gave her an appearance of silent amusement with life in general. "Please sit down and make yourself comfortable, Lieutenant. I would like you to fill out this questionnaire first, then I have a few things that I would like to ask you." She answered with a musical voice and sat to quickly go over the Padd and mark her responses. There were no significant pauses between her reading the questions and answering them. It had been similar for Sulu. The crew, at least, was very decisive and sure of themselves. Even that observation would be recorded. When she had finished she handed Caron the Padd and leaned back into the chair with an expectant look. "Lieutenant, I see by your record that you are considered by many to be the best head of communications in the fleet. To what do you attribute your success?" "I don't know what the best is, Doctor, but I work hard to stay on the cutting edge of communications technology. Anything I need to do my job is provided for me, without any questions asked. We don't want the Enterprise to come in second to anyone, inside or outside the Federation, so we just keep on pushing." "Do you feel that you are supported in your work, and appreciated?" "Doctor, if I tell Mr. Spock or the Captain that they need to bounce up and down on the communications panel butt naked to get a signal, they will play the music for me, and strip. It's just the way they are." "As the only woman on the command team, do you feel left out or neglected in any way. Do you ever feel bothered by the Captain's reputation as, how shall we say it, an extremely sexual man? Has it interfered with your advancement, or kept you from being taken seriously?" "Let me ask you a question instead Doctor. Did you, or are you going to ask this same question of all the male members of the command crew?" Uhura leaned forward a little while she made her inquiry. Caron Jass sat back and found herself being surprised yet again. She had to answer the question honestly and she did not like the answer. "No, in all honesty I did not, and was not." Uhura smiled slightly as she sat back again. "Then let me answer you honestly, Doctor. Captain Kirk has never asked me a question that he would not ask a male member of the crew. He has never demanded anything from me, he does not demand from everyone else. As for the Captain's off duty escapades, they neither include me nor affect me. In all the years I have known him, he has never remotely approached a female crewmember for any type of sexual favors, which is not to say he wouldn't get any takers. Half the women on this ship and probably thirty percent of the men would gladly take him to their beds if he asked. He doesn't and he never will. We all know that, so it's a dead issue. Anyway, I wouldn't believe everything you have heard about his activities. Every woman I know that he has been with didn't mind it one little bit, and most of them chased him, instead of vice versa." "Why haven't you taken some of the offers for promotion, Lieutenant? Why are you still here?" Jass asked more than a little intrigued. "To go where? This is my family; we care for one another, and we trust each other. Where else can I go where I can make this kind of a difference and be exposed to sounds and sights that no human has ever seen or heard before? Where else can I go where I can work with the best and be valued? I've been on other ships and been called honey and sweetheart. Here, when I blow it, I get chewed out just like everybody else. When I do something great, I get a smile that warms my insides, and a thank-you. What more can you want in a job? Look sugar, if you want dirt on the Captain you are going to have to go back to Starfleet to get it. We've seen him at his best and his worst. His worst is better than anyone else's best." "What do you think about Commander Spock and the way he and the Captain interact?" "Spock is the kindest sweetest person I have ever met, besides being a walking computer." "I have never heard a Vulcan being described in quite that way before." "Probably not, but it's true. He is teaching me to play the Vulcan lyre and we spend a lot of time together. There is not a gentler soul on board this ship." "What about he and the Captain, how do they get along?" "I don't quite know how to answer that, so you will understand. Hmmm. Well, first, Spock is completely and absolutely devoted to the Captain. He would slit his own throat if Kirk told him to. And, if I were to tell you how they interact, I would have to answer: sometimes they forget to use words." "What does that mean?" "Well, remember that my specialty is communications and verbal and non-verbal speech is part of what I have to follow to arrive at adequate translations. The Captain and Spock just seem to resonate on the same wavelength most of the times. They finish each other's sentences and leap ahead to where the other one is heading. It gets funny to us because they have to backtrack in meetings and explain what they were saying to us in regular words sometimes. They are symbiotic; I guess that would be a good description, and egoless about it too. Kirk doesn't care if the idea comes from him, or Spock, or the mailman for that fact, as long as it's a good idea. I personally can't imagine a better working relationship. I know for a fact that I have never seen a better one." Jass had a few closing questions and she let Uhura go. What was going on with this crew she wondered? Was their attachment to their commanding officer healthy, or not? Kluge was called into the Captains quarters at 0700 the next morning. Kirk was already sitting at his desk dressed and reviewing the daily logs. Kirk motioned him to stand as he finished reading the Padd he was on and then he looked up to take a slow appraisal of his wayward crewmember. "Mr. Kluge, I have been getting some disturbing reports on you that you have a tendency to oversteps the bounds of appropriate behavior in your dealings with your fellow crew. I know about the incident with Ensign Jenner and Yeoman Stevens. Can you explain why these incidents have occurred, Boson?" "No sir, I can not. Perhaps I was a little too enthusiastic in my dealings with the crew." Kluge heard his father shouting at him in his mind, you little bastard if you don't get in here I will beat you until my arm gets tired. He knew that explanations were futile; they always were, so he never bothered. "Jason," being called by his first name was a little startling to him," how old are you in Earth standard?" "Twenty-five years old sir." "Do you like space? "Sir?" "Do you like space, do you like serving on a starship?" "Sir, I have never wanted to do anything else in my entire life. I mean, just think of all the power of those engines, and I can fix them; I can make them purr. Begging your pardon, Sir, but what's not to love?" "Then one must suppose that you would like to continue doing what you are doing. Am I right in that assumption?" Jason felt a lump come up in his throat, here was the part where he told him how worthless he was and it was time for him to put in for a transfer. "Yes, Sir, I would like to continue doing this." "Then, you need to start thinking about what you do, before you do it, Mister. We are a large family here; every member is important to the whole. The person you piss off today, may be the person that has to drag your behind out from under a support beam the next day. We are all interrelated, and we do not, I repeat we do not, try to tear anyone down on this ship. I need you to be the best you can be, and if that means counting to ten before you open your mouth, then you damn well better do it. Bullies die alone in space Mr. Kluge, and no- one mourns their loss." "I would like you to be a member of my crew, but you will be the one that decides whether or not that occurs. You are personally responsible for every thing you think, word you speak, and act you do. No one else but you mister, so your future is in your own hands, don't let yourself down, don't let this crew down, and don't let me down. Do we understand one another, Mr. Kluge?" "Yes, Sir." "Good. I expect you to tender your apologies to both the Ensign, and the Yeoman for your behavior, by the morning. You are dismissed." Kluge almost jumped for joy when he left, he was going to stay. He had to apologize and that was going to be difficult to stomach, but at least he got to stay with the engines and the ship. He would get his revenge later. He felt a little strange, though. The Captain was very different from what Kluge had expected. Kirk seemed to...care. His fathers voice whispered softly in Kluge's head to bring him back to reality. Doctor Jass had scheduled five interviews for the next day, and they went smoothly reinforcing much of what she had already heard from Uhura and Sulu. At the end of the day, McCoy came in to invite her to dine with him. He had turned out to be delightful company and she had begun to look forward to their dinners together. She and he were in the mess chatting amicably when a yeoman ran in just breaking before he ran into an another crewmember. He shouted once, "They are in the gym," and turned around to exit at a gallop. McCoy looked at Caron for a moment, and made a decision. He stood and motioned her to follow him. " I think you should see this, it might give you some insight into what makes this ship run." He led her down to the ship's gym and exercise area. A crowd had already gathered silently around the edges of one of the bare exercise rooms. They were let through without a word and passed to the front where Caron was able to glimpse for the first time what everyone was watching. The Captain and Mr. Spock were kneeling silently in front of each other, with their eyes closed and their hands resting at their sides. As far as she could tell, they were both asleep, but the crowd, and a crowd it was, looked on with a hushed expectancy. "What are they doing?" She whispered to Leonard. "Shh. You watch, then you tell me." He put his finger to his lips when she looked about to ask another question and turned to watch his friends. Without any visible or audible signal, they simultaneously leapt up and took up mirrored stances across from each other. The Captain was shorter and more muscular than Spock, who had a lean, almost panther like grace. She stood entranced as she watched them, stand silently, still, with eyes closed. Spock shot his right hand out. His speed was frightening. He went directly towards Kirk's face. Kirk moved to deflect the blow. He turned to his side and away at the same time. Kirk bent forward, grabbed Spock's arm, and pulled as he fell back taking the Vulcan in a roll forward. He released the arm; the Vulcan tucked and rolled. Spock came up with a kick meant to take Kirk in his solar plexus. The human blocked the kick and danced away. They still had not opened their eyes. Spock shouted "viproy mnu". Kirk stopped and stood in his first stance again. The Vulcan walked up to him and stood only an arm length away. The Vulcan then began a slow mesmerizing movement of his hands and feet. Each movement he made was perfectly mirrored by the human in front of him. Every blow he threw stopped millimeters away from the intended target and the same was true for the human. They began to go faster and faster. It became almost unbearably tense for Caron. It seemed impossible for them to keep up this level of intensity and not slip eventually. They moved like two halves of a whole, one lean and dark, one bronze and muscular. The strangest thing to Jass, was the smile that radiated from Kirk's face. He was just barely avoiding being hit by a full adult Vulcan male. The force of an uncontrolled Vulcan male had been known to instantly kill grown humans in the past, and Kirk looked joyous. They danced. There was no other word for it; it was a dance of death. Everything that they did was a move meant to maim or harm, but they had made it a dance. They still had their eyes closed. The Vulcan's expression was meditative, like he was sitting in his cabin sipping tea. The blows continued until Spock threw a blow that landed with an audible thud in the middle of Kirk's chest and sent him flying across the room. He landed on his back, rolled over into a standing position, and returned almost to the exact position he had been in before his flight. Spock waited quietly and when Kirk was back in place, he shouted again. "dopra arie'mnu" They opened their eyes and quietly went over to the wall and began to put on padding for their heads and faces and feet. Spock's pads for his hands were twice the thickness of the ones the Captain wore. They walked back out onto the mats, stood facing one another again, and waited. Six men burst from the crowd, and ran to surround the Captain and the First Officer. Caron was not that knowledgeable about martial arts, but she was certain that it was not normal for it to take all of five minutes, for two men to dispatch six. She had watched her chronometer, five minutes after they started, they were back again facing each other quietly, and six members of the crew were lying on the floor. The crowd went crazy. They ate it up. Spock and Kirk bowed to each other and exited from the mat. People walked over to the men on the floor and started to help them up. There was a lot of good natured kidding about how they at least lasted longer than the last group, punctuated by groans and general laughter. Caron's eyes never left Kirk and Spock, however. When Kirk took off his shirt, a large and ugly bruise was already forming in the center of his chest, where the Vulcan had hit him. Spock looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow and the human shrugged, barely hiding a wince of pain. Spock began to help him out of the rest of his gear, walked both of their things over to the side, and put them up. Kirk waited patiently and when the Vulcan returned to his side they both walked out of the room together, as if fifty people were not still in there after having watched them spar. Caron turned to McCoy, who was staring intently at her. "Do they do that often?" "Workout, spar, or fight against six other guys?" McCoy asked, to clarify her question. "Yes, all of that." "Well, they work out almost every day. They spar against one another probably three times a week. The six guys challenged them to a duel, so that only happens once a month maybe. If anyone last longer than five minutes, Jim gives him or her extra leave. If they last longer than ten minutes, they get to have their department head be their personal yeoman for a week." "What happens if they win?" "You mean beat both Spock and Jim?" "Yes, I mean put them both on the mats." "That's pretty bloody unlikely. Jim they might be able to take, on a given day, but no-one on board can beat Spock." "But, you still haven't answered my question. What happens if they win?" "If an approved team beats both Kirk and Spock, the Captain has promised to be their personal cabin boy for a week, as long as they are off duty, and a week on Halsey's pleasure planet." "Why does he spar with his crew? What purpose does it serve?" "How many people do you think would like to tell their grandkids, one-day: Captain Kirk cleaned their cabin for them? Lots, ehh?" Jass nodded. "Jim hates to write letters to the family of dead crew. If they can kick his ass, or just come close, it's a chance that it might save their lives on some hellhole of a planet that we land on. If they want, they can challenge him to games of skill, strategy, or even swimming." "One crew-woman challenged him to a basketball contest of one on one. He gave her three days of leave for originality because, at the time, he hadn't been specific enough about what constituted a fair challenge. Then, he commenced to wipe the floor with her. It seems that Iowa is noted for its basketball players. She thought he wouldn't be able to play because, he isn't really a big guy, ya know. You should've seen her face when he hit the first shot from three-point land. Nothing but net." "I see." Caron wasn't really sure she did see. "You're not worried as the CMO that this doesn't promote an unhealthy sense of competition between the crew and the Captain?" "Did you see him fly across the room when Spock hit him?" McCoy asked her. They strolled out of the gym and down the corridor. She nodded. "Did you see that big ass bruise on his chest that I am going to have to check in a few minutes?" Again, she nodded. "Did you see any evidence that he gave a shit about either?" This time she shook her head in the negative. "It is true that Jim doesn't like to lose on a personal level, but if the survival of his crew is his goal and if getting whipped up on a little gets him there, so be it. In his mind, he still will have won. So the answer to your question is, no. I don't think any competition is bad for the crew that results in them being faster, stronger, smarter, and living another day." They parted at the door to her cabin and Doctor McCoy went to check on his Captain's possibly, no definitely, bruised sternum. "Doctor. Are you finished with the questionnaire? You seem to have left quite a few questions blank?" It was the next day; Caron was in the middle of her third interview of the day. This one was with Leonard McCoy. He had been strangely reticent ever since he had entered the room. "What's the matter, Lenny, don't you want to help me be famous?" She joked. He didn't answer her at first. He just continued to look at her, slowly blinking with his lips pursed. "Caron, you are bothered by something; I can tell. Perhaps, we need to forgo the questionnaire and deal with some of your real issues." "What makes you think that I am bothered, Lenny? Everyone has been very kind. You all have been very cooperative." She tried to look him in the eyes to convince him of her sincerity, so she could change the subject. "Caron, I have to read people every day for a living. Humans, non-humans, and people who make you look like a baby when it comes to hiding their thoughts. I know because it's my job to know. What is it that you've found that worries you?" Leonard leaned over with a gentle smile and rested his chin on his cupped hands to wait as long as it took. "I don't quite know how to put my concerns to words. It may all be evil imaginings, you know" she hedged. "Just go ahead and start talking. We'll deal with what comes up as we go along. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "I've talked to seven members of your officer staff and twenty-five random crewmembers. They are more than typically loyal, Lenny. He has a personality cult going on here. I mean, I just was not prepared for the level of personal attachment they all have to him. To be perfectly blunt, I have not seen anything like it before. It bothers me, frankly. I'm sure you're aware of the studies of cults and their dynamics. This ship has some of the markings of a cult, and I'm not sure it's healthy." "What things have you seen that lead you to think that?" "Well for one, they all seem to have some mystical belief in Kirk's invincibility and by reflection, this ship's. In addition, their attachment to him is not to the rank, or Starfleet, but to him personally. Don't tell me you haven't noticed, Lenny. The real question is does he encourage and promote that by design. If so, why? What purpose does it serve for him? Is it the best way to operate, or is it dangerous?" "Have you looked at this ships record, Caron?" "Yes. I have reviewed the statistics on the ships performance ratings and evaluations." "No, have you really looked at its record? Have you read or seen any of the log tapes?" "Well no, not really. I didn't see how that would affect my research in any way, so I didn't think it was necessary." "Then let me give you a real brief synopsis. Over the past four years of service on this ship, we have been given the dirtiest, the most dangerous and deadliest assignments that Starfleet had. We have not been defeated, ever." "Well.." "No, let me finish. We are not riding a desk, earth side. We're out in the middle of a vacuum. We are days to weeks away from contact with Starfleet or anyone from the Federation and any help most of the time. Sitting in the command chair is the single best Starship Commander that the Federation has ever produced. The sight of our name across the hull has sent ships running without us ever having to fire a shot. Why? Because they know our reputation and us. Crewmembers on this ship have a better chance of surviving their stint than on any other Starship in the Fleet." "It's not because of Nogura or Cartwright. It's because of that man on the bridge. All of us here are misfits of one type of another. You have to be a little crazy to want to serve on a starship, where the slightest mistake can kill you. A lot of us have never fit anywhere else until we got here, and suddenly, every thing we were, was just right." "You may not have noticed that I can be argumentative, opinionated, and downright insubordinate. I have fought with Kirk on his bridge in the middle of a red alert because I was too mad to wait. Instead of kicking my ass off the bridge, he bit back, apologized for biting, and went on. Before I came here, I was going to leave Starfleet because I was tired of all the pompous, rigid, assholes I had to deal with in the past. Now, I won't leave until he leaves." "I may call myself a simple country doctor, but you better believe I know how good I am. That story is repeated over and over again all across the ship. Starfleet doesn't bind us; it only attracts us. Kirk is the glue that binds us. If you think there is something wrong with that, then we have a big problem." "But what happens if he goes rogue or disobeys Starfleet, like he has in the past? Will you follow him blindly into hell if that's where he leads you, Lenny?" Caron asked him intently. She looked as uncertain as she felt. "None of us are blind followers. When Jim defies Starfleet, it's always because there is a greater good that is served. If they can't see it, that's because they aren't here. He has never done it to gain personal power. He has never done it to destroy or harm anyone or anything, and he won't. Anyway, if Spock or I tell him he's gone overboard, he always, always listens. We are his failsafe and he trusts us with his soul. What kind of despot or cult leader would do that?" "So, let me get this straight, if you both told him that something he was doing was just inherently wrong, he would stop?" "First, he always reviews his motivations. If his reasons aren't rational, and based on a military or political necessity, only emotions, he just stops. He reverses course." "Just like that?" "Unless you call thank-you a repercussion; no, there isn't any. If we don't have faith in each other, then we are doomed, Caron. If we don't act on that faith, then it's a pretty empty." "What about he and Spock?" "Waddya mean?" "I've heard them described as best friends, symbiotic, Soulmates, even lovers. What is it with them?" "Well that's difficult to explain. It probably would be better to ask them, but they both would probably tell you to mind your own business. They aren't lovers as far as I know. Symbiotic isn't quite right either. Soulmates fit, best friends are an approximation, but that doesn't approach the reality. I've thought a lot about it actually over the years, and my take on it is they are each other's liberator and multiplier." Caron looked at him in obvious confusion. "Look, suppose there was one person in the entire universe who knew you completely and absolutely. They knew all your dirty laundry and secrets, all your weaknesses and strengths, and they didn't turn away from any of it. Suppose that person never asked you to change, just took you exactly and precisely where you were? What would you give, or do, to have that?" "What do you want me to say, almost everything?" "Shit, Caron, I don't want you to say anything. Be truthful. What would you give?" "Everything," She whispered. "What would you do to continue to be worthy of that kind of acceptance?" "I see. I would give my best, everyday, so I would never lose it." "Right." He let out his breath and went on. "Captains are supposed to be perfect. At least two people on this ship know how much of a lie that is. Vulcans are supposed to be unemotional and perfect. Two people know that's a lie, too. It's the same two folks. As long as they are together, they have one other person that they don't have to play any roles for. They can be completely and utterly free to be themselves, and it's okay." "What about you, you know that neither one is perfect? How do you fit in?" "They are never completely free to be themselves with me. I am the only one that can take away the ship from them both." McCoy thought for a while before going on. " I am their quiet voice in the middle of the night, who reminds them, both, of their mortality and their fallibility." "Like a counselor," she said almost to herself. "Or a confessor. I am whatever it takes to rattle both their cages and remind them that they are not yet gods. I saw them defeat one once, but they didn't replace him. They are still flesh and blood, prey to all the ails that flesh is heir to." Caron sat, lost in synthesizing everything McCoy had said into a new concept. It teased at the borders of her mind, but refused to show itself. Finally, she turned to Lenny. "You know you didn't have to do this for me. Being this honest was a risk and I truly appreciate it. The reality of life at the edge is a lot different than what I had made it from the safety of Earth." ""Risk is our job," my Captain likes to say. Don't mention it. I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea; I could see you heading down the wrong street. Here, give me that damn sheet, and I'll finish it. Then, I'm going to treat you to the best shipboard meal that you have ever had." Leonard leaned over, grabbed the PADD, and finished the questionnaire, while she sat and watched him thoughtfully. Kluge sat in his cabin and quietly contemplated his revenge. He had almost fallen for Kirk's line but finally he had come to his senses. First, he'd get Stevens, then Jenner, but quiet, so no one would know it was him. The next day he worked at the rungs of the ladder leading up to the number 23 shaft. Stevens was responsible for maintenance in the shaft all week and he would have to come down this way. If Kluge did it just right, the rung wouldn't wear out until the middle of the week. Kluge would be nowhere around. Stevens would only fall far enough to rattle him. Later, Kluge was going to whisper in his ear: the next fall might be worse. No proof, but effective. It had worked before. His eyes positively sparkled in anticipation. "Mr. Spock, I appreciate you taking time out from your busy schedule to work with me during this project. If you could read and answer these questions here, we can get to the interview and have you finished before you are missed." "There is no need for you to concern yourself with my schedule, Dr. Jass. I have made myself available, if you require me, for the rest of alpha shift." Spock took the Padd, read, answered her questions, and handed the Padd back to her. It took him all of five minutes. "That was fast," she blurted. "Was time spent on answering the questionnaire one of the variables you were tracking?" "No, not at all. It's just that it usually takes people a little longer to think about their responses." The Vulcan did not respond. He obviously did not think one was called for. His face seemed to be sculpted out of obsidian. Jass could not get any reads from him. She became unclear where she should start. He was a formidable presence. "Mr. Spock, you have been with Captain Kirk for several years, since he first took command of the Enterprise. You also served under Christopher Pike. What do you see as the major differences in their command styles?" "What level of detail do you require in my response?" His baritone was calm and measured. "General responses would be preferred. I'm looking for answers that detail philosophical variance or differences in command styles. I know you could probably give me a day by day comparison, but that level of detail is more than I can handle, I'm afraid." Spock pursed hands under his lips in preparation. "They are both extremely capable commanders. I found Captain Pike to be intelligent and logically sound in his reasoning. He was very supportive of his crew and amassed an enviable record." "And Kirk?" Jass asked. "Captain Kirk is unique in my experience, both as a person and as a commander." "In what way, Mr. Spock?" "He inspires individuals and groups to do things that rationally they are not capable of achieving. Yet they do it, for and because, of him." "Go on, please." She shifted in her seat to get a better view of his face. "For lack of a better term, he is a genius at what he does. His thought processes are inordinately flexible. He is open to new concepts and viewpoints. His skills are not easily quantifiable, nor logical, they simply exist. His military stratagems will be famous for as long as humans do battle. His ability as a leader to inspire the very best out of his crew has been the reason for our success to date." "Don't you think it might have been luck of the draw? I mean suppose they just loaded the Enterprise with the best people, and he is simply reaping the benefits?" "No, I do not believe in luck, Dr. Jass. None of us became the best, whatever that is, until after we arrived on board this ship. We were known to be technically sound and gifted, but I was not the "best science officer in the fleet when he took command. In fact, most commanders voiced an active disinterest in serving with me. My Vulcan demeanor disturbed them and I was told quite a few were intimidated by my intellect. It is hard for men of power to acknowledge that a subordinate might be better than they are at their duties. The simple facts are that compared to a human, I am stronger, faster, able to store and retrieve more data, do faster calculations, and have skills as a touch telepath. These are skills that no one else on board the ship has to the same degree." She was somewhat taken aback by his unemotional discussion of Vulcan superiority. If he was so superior, why was he here? "So, you feel that this does not bother or intimidate Kirk?" "I feel nothing about the issue, Doctor. I am a Vulcan. I am discussing facts. The Captain is not intimidated by anyone or anything that I have yet been able to ascertain. He acknowledges that I have all these capabilities. He considers them to be useful to him and the ship, so he utilizes them to their fullest. It is a perfectly logical approach, but unusual in my experience in interacting with humans." "In the face of your obvious superiority, why is it you do not simply get your own command, Mr. Spock? You have been offered one in the past. I imagine all the skills you have delineated would serve you well as a Captain." "My skills do not make me the Captain that Kirk is. He has succeeded in the past in situations that my logic handicapped me and his imagination rescued us. Captain Kirk's skills and intellect, though different from mine, are of no lower quality. He is brilliant." "You have no desire to have your own ship?" "I have no wish to command. It is my preference to remain where I am best suited to be. It is the only logical choice." "How would you describe your professional relationship with the Captain?" "Optimal." "That's all." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Yes, it is totally descriptive. We function at our peak capabilities." "How about your personal relationship with the Captain? What is he to you on a personal basis? Are you friends, or are you more than friends?" "Our personal relationship is not open to discussion, Doctor." "Is that a polite way of telling me to mind my own business?" "I believe my meaning was clear." "But Spock, haven't you ever thought that it's the personal relationship that makes your professional one work? How can I come to the correct conclusions if I don't understand the dynamics of both sides of how the best command team in the fleet work? I am not trying to be intrusive. I am simply desirous of being thorough." "Dr. Jass, if you require information on any interactions that I have outside of my professional ones, then your study will unfortunately be flawed. I will not discuss anything regarding my private life, hence the term, private." Jass looked at him trying to see if there were any chinks that she might be able to attack. There was none visible. "It was worth a try. No offense was meant." Spock nodded slightly, "None taken, Doctor." "One last question, Mr. Spock, what single thing is there about yourself, or Captain Kirk, that you think contributes the most to your success? What should we look for in all future command teams?" "Since these are not quantifiable variables, I wouldn't be capable of limiting myself to a hierarchy of one." Spock's eyebrow rose. "Okay, then you can give as many answers as you want." "We have trust in each other. We are honest with ourselves and with our crew. We have confidence in each other's abilities. We have high levels of skill in our areas of expertise. As for the Captain, he has the ability to see beyond what is, to what could be, and a strong personal conviction. If it is simply a form of employment, you should not be out here." "Kirk has all of that?" "Yes, Doctor, that and more, so much more." For the first time, she got a flash of the person behind the mask. She could've sworn she saw something flickering or glowing momentarily in his eyes. She shook that off as her imagination. He got up, bowed his head solemnly in her direction once, then left. It was several days before the rung finally gave away and Stevens fell. His arm was broken and he had to climb out of the Jeffries tubes back to engineering in pain with the broken limb hanging useless at his side. Scotty knew immediately after he looked at the ladder that someone had sabotaged it. He had personally gone over his ship with a fine tooth comb only one month prior, and there was no evidence of metal fatigue on any of the ladders. Scotty also suspected who was responsible for the dirty deed. This was going to the Captain. He would figure out something or else, Scotty would be forced to beat the pup to a bloody pulp. "Mr. Stevens, how do you feel?" Captain Kirk was in the sickbay before McCoy had finished with setting the arm. He looked up briefly at his Captain and returned to what he was doing. He knew Jim's presence so quickly in sickbay meant trouble for somebody. Steven's injuries were not serious enough to warrant such an early visit from worry alone. "I'm okay, Captain. It scared me more than anything else. If a higher rung had of given away, I might not be here talking to you." "Good, I'm glad your okay, and being nervous about what could have happened is normal." He came closer to sit on the edge of the bed. "Stevens, I'm expecting someone to approach you in the next few days to discuss the accident. They might intimate that something worse could happen next time. As soon as that happens, I want you to come straight to me. Don't say anything to them about this conversation or me just let me know right away and I'll take care of the rest. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sir, perfectly." Kirk turned to walk away. "Sir," Kirk turned back, "thank-you. I know that you don't have to bother with something like this." "Oh, but I do, I most certainly do, and it is not a bother." "Leonard, tomorrow, I'm going to interview Captain Kirk." Caron and McCoy were sitting together at an intimate candlelight dinner in his quarters. McCoy had personally made the food in the galley for the meal and the spread was impressive. "I was wondering if you could give me some help in how I should approach him. He's become an almost mythical character in my mind after talking to everyone so far. I don't want to blow it." "Just be yourself, Caron, and be honest. He'll know if you're lying before it drops from your lips. It'll be easier than you think." She gave a look of disbelief. "Really, Jimboy is unbelievably nice when he wants to be. In fact, if you don't watch yourself you'll probably propose to him before you finish the interview." "Now, I know your kidding. What woman could possibly look elsewhere with you around?" She played at batting her eyelashes and fanning herself which made them both laugh. "You make an old man feel young, darling, but I'm nothing if not a realist. Now, you're just speaking out of old-fashioned ignorance. Not that I don't want to keep you in the dark, so to speak, for least one more evening." McCoy's grin was from ear to ear. "Leonard, you are incorrigible." "I hope so, my dear. I certainly hope so." Kirk canceled the interview and rescheduled for later. So, Dr. Jass had to continue to wait. Jason was positively gleeful. Everything had gone exactly as planned. Stevens was back on light duty after two days. Jason took his first opportunity to sidle up to him when they were alone. "Pretty nasty fall you had there, Ensign, how you doing?" "Fine thanks, Kluge. I'm almost back to one hundred percent." Stevens responded warily. "Pretty clumsy of you wasn't it, Stevens, to fall like that. You should be more careful next time, no telling how bad your next accident could be." Kluge suddenly closed the distance between them. "You get my drift, punk." Stevens didn't answer. He found himself staring at Kluge like he was looking at a rabid dog. He wondered how the hell the Captain knew this would happen, but he followed his instructions to a letter. He nodded wordlessly and watched as Kluge walked off into the bowels of engineering. Stevens went to find the Captain. "Captain, I was looking forward to the meeting with you yesterday. I'm sorry you had to reschedule." She had purposely "run across" the Captain as he did his ship board rounds. Kirk's smile was friendly as motioned her to walk beside him. "I apologize, Dr. Jass, but something came up that had to take precedence over the study. We are almost at the site of the hijacking of a transport ship, and I wanted to make sure everything was in order. We might have to do a little dodge and shoot soon, and it pays to prepare. I'm sure you can appreciate that." Caron Jass found herself looking at Kirk surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye and taking stock. He had an easy smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. He had blondish brown hair with flashes of dark brown running through it giving a bronze glow to him. Startling hazel eyes looked at her out of a face that could only be described as handsome. He wasn't tall but his wide muscular chest and muscular arms and slim waist made him look larger than he was in reality. The picture didn't seem real and in all of their interactions to date, he had been unfailingly polite, professional, and distant. She had seen nothing to give her any insight into what made the man tick. She had done her research on him, as well as on all the other Captains before she left Earth's safe confines. There were eleven other Starship Captains but this was the only one that had saved several whole civilizations and systems and had the Klingons and Orions giving him nicknames. This was the only one that was already a living legend. She had interviewed quite a few who knew him at Starfleet. It was definitely a case of hot or hate. People adored him, or hated him passionately. Especially a guy named Finnegan and Adm. Komack. Though no one criticized his skills, the ones who hated him tended to classify him as an overrated pretty boy, dangerously unpredictable, or a deadly whore that life had just been kind to. Those who loved him said he was a genius, kind, thoughtful, and awe inspiring. He had been called a hero, a warrior, and a man of honor. The views didn't mesh well. She had even reviewed all of the Captains and their abilities to sustain personal relationships. Three were married to spouses who stayed on planetside and one of those was currently going through an ugly divorce. One had his wife on his ship with him as a geologist, and one had an ongoing affair with his doctor who was a male. The rumor on the other six was that five were having affairs with male or female crewmembers, surreptitiously, and one was celibate for religious reasons. Kirk was the only one with a reputation that was widely discussed. She found herself looking at him trying to imagine him off duty, relaxed, away from the ship. "I brush my hair, have to sleep, and use the refresher, just like everyone else, Dr. Jass." His surprisingly perceptive statement brought her out of her reverie. "What made you say that, Captain?" The psychologist in her had to ask. "I saw you giving me that look people get around me sometimes." Kirk talked as he walked, several crew waved and spoke as they strolled by. "What look is that? I sure don't want to be like those people whoever they are." "The, "I wonder if he's real look". I am, and I would prefer it, if you don't start getting weird around me." His smile finally included his eyes. Caron began to laugh. "Has anybody ever told to that you are a strange man?" "Frequently," he chuckled and excused himself to climb into one of the Jeffries tubes. Just as he was about to disappear down the ladder, someone called his name. They both turned to see a young man Jass didn't know, running towards him. He climbed back up quickly and took the man over to the side as the young ensign began to speak to him earnestly. Kirk's body language was simultaneously protective and encouraging. He rested his arm on the Ensign's shoulder, bent his head, and listened intently to what the man said. Jass was fascinated; she had to pull herself away consciously. She left alone and continued her walk. She was entering data into her Padd when the chime to her quarters rang. "Yes." She looked up with surprise. She was not expecting anyone. She had planned to spend the day grading the questionnaires and entering the results of the interviews into a database format. It was a difficult task to decide how to enter some of the responses and she had spent the whole day fretting over it. Kirk had canceled their interview for this day also and she had to admit that she had been quietly fuming. "It's Leonard, can I come in?" McCoy's pleasantly accented voice came through the COM. "Sure, Lenny, come in," she felt her mood elevating almost immediately in anticipation of seeing his face. Leonard McCoy was great company with his self-deprecating wit and his gentleness. She realized that she liked him, a lot. McCoy came in and walked over to stand next to her as she sat at her desk. "Caron, you want to know what makes this Starship tick, right?" She nodded curiously. "I'd like you to come with me, but I'd need some promises from you first?" "Where you going to take me?" "To see the heart of the ship at work, but I need you to promise first." "What do want me to promise, Doctor McCoy?" She found herself slipping into her professional mold. "First, you must not interfere in anyway no matter what you think of what is going on. Second, you must promise to talk to me first about what you've seen, before you decide anything." She looked at him for a long minute. "Trust me, Caron, please." "Okay, you have my word." She stood up ready to go. "Come with me, and don't forget what you promised. I'm taking a big chance here for you because I believe in what you're doing." Leonard led her back to the recreation level and into a gym she had not seen before. The whole alpha shift seemed to be standing in the gym, along the walls quietly. The crew displayed serious expressions, the type of which she had not seen before. Standing in the middle of the room was a rather large young man, an Ensign by his insignia. His eyes flickered nervously back and forth over the unsympathetic faces like a cornered animal. "Jason Kluge," a voice called out, "you have been accused of crimes against the crew. You have failed in your duty to support and protect the ship. You have been accused of endangering the welfare of the crew and the ship. How do you plead?" "What the hell is this? This isn't regulation. You can't do anything to me. I don't have to answer you. His father's voice echoed in his mind. "How do you plead?" The voice continued. "I didn't do anything. I demand that you let me out of here." No one moved. When he made to leave, security conspicuously shifted position to meet his turn. "Who accuses, Jason Kluge?" The voice demanded. "I do." Catherine Jenner stood forward. She told what Jason had done to her and how he had repeatedly threatened and attempted to intimidate her. "She's a lying whore," he snarled. "Don't believe her, she's just out to get me." Catherine stepped back into the crowd. "Who else accuses him?" Jason gulped as he saw Stevens, then Powell, then the parade of people that he had tried to intimidate, or threaten in the last few months on board the ship. "You have heard the testimony, how do you plead Jason Kluge?" The same disembodied voice continued to echo around him, distorted by a voice synthesizer. "I haven't done a damn thing anyone else wouldn't do," he shouted. "No one here gives a damn about me. It's all about what you can get for yourself and I mean to get all I can. You hypocritical bastards act as if you're better than me. Fuck you," he screamed. "I hate you all, every last little weak pussy one of ya." The crew stood silently. None spoke; none turned away. "You have one chance to redeem yourself, Jason Kluge. You have three choices. One, you can leave and resign from Starfleet. Two, you can beg for forgiveness from the crew. Three, you will have three come before you. If you defeat the one you choose, you can leave this room and return to your duties." The voice still was unfamiliar, calm, and coldly mechanical. "Nobody is running me off. I will never apologize, never. Send your three wimps out. I'll kick all their asses and make them kiss my ass for dessert." "Your choice, Jason Kluge. As you wish." Silently, three figures walked through the crowd which parted before them. All of them were clad in all encompassing black body suit. Their faces, hair, even their hands were covered until no skin was visible, only their eyes glared out at him. All were male. One was enormous, with rippling muscles that made Jason immediately rule him out. The other was tall and slimly built but with a grace that bespoke skills that were frightening. The other was a head shorter than Jason was, muscular but by far the least intimidating of the three. "I pick him," he immediately pointed to the smallest man. The other two walked off the floor. The one he had picked turned to face Jason and bowed. Jason immediately ran towards them, hollering, wanting to quickly overpower him with his larger size and greater strength. He suddenly was looking up at the ceiling, flat on his back, not remembering quite how he got there. The smaller man stood to the side looking at him with an infuriating calm. Jason jumped to his feet and tried to hit his opponent with an enormous blow to the head, which the figure in black easily sidestepped. His opponent rammed Jason in the middle of the solar plexus, dropping him to his knees. Jason bent over and gasped for breath. He heard a whisper from behind. "You like to hurt people don't you, Jason? You like to see them squirm and cringe? How does it feel to have the tables turned? Does is make you feel good, Jason?" Jason struck out savagely with his left arm only to meet the air. When he turned to look he saw a fist, right before it hit him in the middle of his nose sending him reeling backwards on his butt again. He felt his nose break and blood began to run freely down his face. " Jason, how does it feel to taste some of your own blood. You tried to hurt the crew. We trusted you, Jason, and you let us down. We gave you a chance to be something special. What's so special about being a bully? It seems pretty easy to me. It's being a man that's hard. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" Caron was mortified. She watched the crew as absolutely no one moved to help the man who alternated between being methodically beaten and talked to in front of them. When she looked at McCoy he gave her look of warning, and remembering her vow, remained silent. She had every intention of reporting the whole incident to Starfleet. "Not saying much now are you, Jason. Pretty quiet when you have an audience. What's wrong, can't stand the light? Want me to turn it off? Will you feel more like a man when no one can see you?" The man still whispered in a harsh voice that carried all around the room. "You endangered the crew, Jason. Every member is vital and you are not doing your part. Worse yet, you're too much of a coward to even own up to what you did. It takes a man to apologize. Oh, but, I forgot, you're not a man are you, Jason? No you are a weak willed, simpering, cowardly, bully who assaults his fellow crewmembers and blames everything on his victim. Come on, make a victim out of me, Jason. I dare you." The voice took on an ugly singsong. "You shit for brains, Jason. You worthless asshole, I wish I never knew you, I wish your mother had died in childbirth with you along for the ride." The voice whispered remembered obscenities from his past. Suddenly he was enraged past all control and he attacked blindly, viciously trying to kill his tormenter, trying to destroy his father who had hated and despised him all of his life. He felt a wild blow land solidly and the figure rolled away and was up to meet Jason's enraged attack. Jason felt his legs go out from under him and he landed awkwardly on his right arm. He felt it break agonizingly beneath him. He lay on the floor, unable to raise up and began to cry. Instead of further pain and torment, the same as he had gotten all of his young life, he felt someone grab him gently in their arms and hold him while he sobbed uncontrollably. His emotional pain far overshadowed the pain of the beating now. The voice continued at his side, "Your father was a heartless, evil man, Jason. He was cruel to you, so he could feel better about himself. Listen to me, it was all lies. All the stupid, cruel things he told you, were lies. He's dead now, ashes and you have to let go of his lies." "This is your ship. We are your home. We want you here with us. We will take care of you. We will support you. We can be your family if you let us. Stop punishing us for your pain, Jason. Let it die. Bury it with the man that caused it or you are going to be just like him. Trust me, Jason, believe me," he urged, "or leave this ship and don't ever look back." "You'd let me stay," he stopped. A tiny crack of hope opened in his soul. "We never leave behind a member of the crew, Jason, if that's what you want to be." "Yes," he said quietly holding onto the sweaty anonymous figure that still held him and comforted him unselfconsciously, in front of his entire world. He answered like the wounded boy he was in truth. "Yes, please." The man and stood up and helped him quietly to his feet. He motioned in McCoy's direction. The Doctor immediately crossed over to check on the boy. The crew still stood silently in their places and Jass looked around in dismay. These people are all insane, she thought. The victor turned around to look at the silent figures lining the wall. His presence was a palpable force that held them all in suspension. He turned back to Jason. "Jason," he said quietly, "do you have anything to say?" Jason looked up slowly from his feet and surveyed the faces of those who faced him. He drew his confidence from the figure that stood next to him and began to speak, quietly at first, then louder so his voice could be heard by all. "I have been a fool. All my life I was told no one would ever care about me, no one would ever help me, and I believed them. I was told I was worthless and I believed it. I have betrayed you and I have failed you. I don't expect you to forgive me, I'm not sure I know what forgiveness is, but," he gulped and continued, "I apologize. To each and every one of you, especially to Ensign Stevens, Jenner, Commander Scott, and Captain Kirk, who tried to tell me before and I wouldn't listen. I apologize. If you will give me another chance, I will try to learn how not be such an asshole." He hung his head back down. He was certain, no matter what the figure said, the answer would be no. No one had ever given him a second chance, ever. At least that was the way he had always seen it. The figure spoke again. "How say you, crew? What is the verdict?" Jason waited forgetting to breathe; his arm throbbed along with his nose and other body parts he did not remember he had. First Jenner, then Stevens stepped forward, and they began to clap. Slowly, forcefully, they began to clap, with conviction. One by one, the rest of the crew joined in until the gym was filled with clapping, hooting and hollering, all calling out his name: "Jason, Jason, Jason." He broke down again into tears and wept uncontrollably as he was lead away by Dr. McCoy and Commander Scott, to the safety and security of sickbay. The crew filed out quickly, and a stunned Jass finally came back to herself. She sat down in a corner against the far wall. Two figures in black still were in the room. The figure that had been fighting leaned over suddenly grabbing his knees and began to take great shuddering breaths. The leaner of the men rushed over to him faster than Caron thought was seemingly possible and grabbed the smaller man to lower him gently onto the floor and kneel beside him. The lean one pulled his head cover off to reveal Spock and he moved to pull off the mask of the other. Jass knew without doubt it would be Kirk. It was. Spock pulled up Kirk's shirt to reveal his hairless chest, abdomen, and an especially ugly bruise along the right chest wall that glowed angrily. Spock held his Captain protectively. He said something to him that got him to lay his head back against the Vulcan's chest and attempt to even out his breathing. The Vulcan placed his hands momentarily against the human temples and Jass could see the pain lessen visibly on his face. They were oblivious to the world. Caron was moved by the Captain's obvious pain and weakness, and the Vulcan's equally obvious concern and assistance. Finally, still without audible speech, Spock stood and easily but gently lifted his Captain to his feet. Kirk rested his head against the Vulcan's chest for three seconds as he swayed momentarily. The Vulcan continued to hold him up right. Kirk took a giant breath, stood straight, slowly squared his shoulders, and turned to walk out with the Vulcan beside him. The Vulcan continued to watch Kirk like a hawk, ready to help if needed. Caron waited until they had left and then followed them out of the gym. She continued to lag behind them in the corridor. She trailed into the sickbay where she was met by Mr. Spock as she entered. "May I assist you, Dr. Jass. You obviously felt a need to follow us, so I must assume there's a purpose to this visit?" "Where is the Captain?" She asked. She had no intention of being pushed aside this time. "He is with Dr. McCoy." "What is wrong with him?" "He has a fractured sternum. It seems the early injuries weakened it just enough so that Kluge's wild blow resulted in further damage." She put her hand out touch Spock, without thinking. She was not surprised when he gently pulled away. "Will he be all right? How the hell did he finish if the middle of his chest was fractured?" She couldn't help thinking how Spock had freely allowed and initiated contact with his Captain. "He will be fine. The doctor is quite capable, as long as he has his beads and rattles. As to how he finished what he was doing, that is hard to answer, Dr. Jass. He did what he needed to do to accomplish his goal. He endured what he had to, in order to reclaim a crewmember. Is this not worth physical pain?" Jass looked at the Vulcan, seeing him perhaps for the first time. How could she ever have thought of him as cold and mechanical? "What did you do to him in there so he could get up to walk?" "I am not sure to what you are referring, Dr. Jass." "I saw you initiate a meld. I know about Vulcan mind disciplines, Spock. So, please don't try to avoid the question." "I simply helped him reestablish his own barriers, Dr. Jass, nothing more. The Captain's mind is quite capable on it's own." "I am not certain I believe you, Mr. Spock." "That Doctor, is truly not my issue. Perhaps, you should return to your quarters. I am sure the day has been challenging for you." Jass could see in his eyes that he had absolutely no intention of letting her see Kirk today. She bowed to the unavoidable, and left for her quarters. Later the same evening the doorchime rang and McCoy came into her darkened room. "I think we should talk, Caron." She motioned him over to the seat in front of her desk and waited for him to sit down. "I heard you were in the Sickbay and that Spock put you out. He is very protective of Jim, in his own way. Do you want to talk about what you saw in the gym? " "There is not much to say, Doctor. That was cruel, degrading, and animalistic. He beat that boy to a pulp in front of the crew and no-one, I repeat no-one, stopped him. You are all nothing but puppets. You let that man do anything he wants to do, and I, for one, am not going to stand still for it. I plan on reporting the entire incident to Starfleet Command. We will see what they think about what he did." McCoy sat back and closed his eyes. "Of course, you have to do what you think is right, but if you are half the person I think you are, you will come to your senses and realize that what Jim did was for the boy's own good. Also, you need to understand they will have to interview me, and I will tell them that Jim discussed his plans with both Spock and I, thoroughly, before he went into that gym and we were in complete agreement." "You, a physician, agreed to that barbarity?" "Definitely. I hate sending young men and women home in plastiwrap, Caron. As much as I hate losing a patient, Jim hates it a magnitude more. He aches for every single crewmember he has lost because he thinks he has failed them if he doesn't bring them home. Jason was on a road to no-where and Jim has put a fork in his road and given him a new choice. I will not let you, or anybody, destroy Jim for that." He got up, walked over to the door, and turned around to meet her eyes one more time. He met hostility and smiled at her sadly. "Call me when you are ready to talk, Caron. Space is meaner and more dangerous than you can possibly understand, and we are your best defense against the boogey man." "Doctor, I am not so sure that I didn't see the boogey man in the gym tonight. Goodnight." "Goodnight, Caron, sleep tight. You know how to find me." They found the derelict transport ship two days later. The crew had been murdered and the cargo off-loaded. There were signs of scarring on the hull from weapons fire. A small hull breach near engineering had taken out the transport engineering sections and its power, without exploding the ship. "That was an exquisite piece of targeting," Kirk commented in open admiration despite the destruction. He had the ships files downloaded and the bodies of the crewmembers transported over to the ship, for storage and transport. They destroyed the ship, because they could not afford the time to tow it back, and it was a navigation hazard floating in the middle of the regular space lanes. Jass had not been able to meet with the Captain. She suspected he was recuperating from his injuries and she, in truth, was still too angry with him to interview him in a dispassionate fashion.. She noticed him quite a bit with a new shadow following behind him, Jason Kluge. The red alert klaxon started while Jass was seated in the forward observation room. This would be only her third opportunity to see a starship in action during combat. Starfleet had given her carte blanche to monitor the crew during regular shifts and emergencies, so she rushed to the bridge. This would finally let her see the Enterprise bridge crew at its dirtiest and deadliest. When she got to the bridge, the first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. It was so calm she was incredulous. She had expected hectic movement and tense speeches, maybe even smoke and the sound of weapons fire. Instead, Kirk sat the center chair with his legs crossed and his arms on the armrest. The viewscreen showed three raiders in front of them, spread out in attack formation. Uhura's voice quietly rang out into the silence. "They do not respond to any hailing frequencies, Captain. I will continue." Kirk just nodded. "Captain, the center ship matches the description of the ship that targeted the transport engines." That was Spock. Kirk did not turn to him but rather spoke directly to Chekov. "Chekov, target the engines and the bridge of the center ship. They're the one we need to worry about here." "Sulu, plot a course that takes us towards ship No. 3 at warp six. I want to approach her from starboard." "Aye, sir." "Uhura, send again, surrender or be destroyed, your choice, Captain James T. Kirk, USS Enterprise. We tried nice, now let's get nasty." "Mr. Chekov, ready phasers and photon torpedoes. Fire on my word. When we approach ship No. 3, Mr. Sulu, I want you to give me enough y-axis clearance so we can target the center ship over her. She'll be expecting us to hit the outside ship first. Then, I want to execute 180 degree and bring all phasers to bear on No. 3." "Aye, Sir," both Chekov and Sulu said together. Their fingers played across the board effortlessly, as they rushed to comply. Again, silence flowed across the bridge. She could hardly believe her eyes and ears. Kirk was going to attack three ships at once. The man was insane, and his crew was no better. No one on the bridge, except Jass had even broken a sweat. Kirk flicked the intercom. "Scotty, I'm going to need warp 8 on my word." "You've got it, Captain, she's ready n' rearing to go." "Way to go, Scotty," He actually smiled and closed the COM. "Mr. Sulu, close on No. 3, warp 8." They jumped, overtaking the smaller vessels as if they were stationary. "Fire, Mr. Chekov." The phasers lanced out into the starry vacuum hitting not the ship that was directly in front of them, but the center vessel along it's midship. The first blast of phasers was instantaneously follow by photon torpedoes which followed through the weakened shields and imploded on the hull of the ship taking it into oblivion. Sulu executed a perfect turn and was directly in front and to the side of ship three. "Fire, Mr. Chekov." This time, the shield collapsed under the phasers. They had diverted full shield to the starboard side. Kirk's turn and attack of the port side caught them totally unprepared. The night erupted again. The third ship turned to run for dear life before the phasers slicing through the vacuum pounded its rear shields. "Transmit my last message again, Lt. Uhura. Let's see if the fate of his buddies might have helped them reach a better decision." "Ship decloaking off the port bow. Klingon warbird. They are targeting us." Mr. Spock's voice carried across the bridge. "Come about, Sulu. Evasive maneuvers. Reinforce shields port and bow. Target and fire at will, Mr. Chekov." "Incoming, Captain," Spock spoke again. The ship rocked with the impact of full close range plasma beam from the war ship. The beam hit the reinforced shields and they held, just barely. The ship recloaked seconds after a phasers barrage hit its shields across its bow. "Mr. Spock? " Kirk turned to face his First Officer. "Motion sensors detect movement at course heading 375.3." Kirk pursed his lips tapped his fingers rapidly on the armchair. "Mr. Sulu, head for that transport ship ahead, warp factor 5. I want to be able to smell it. Mr. Chekov, reinforce our shields to our stern. Load and arm all weapons. Target the transport as soon as we get in range, with phasers only. I want it disabled not destroyed, if possible. At least now we know who the transports were planning to rendezvous with." Jass heard the lift door open and close behind her as she stood mesmerized, unable to follow Kirk's reasoning. She felt then saw Leonard McCoy stand beside her at the railing leaning over to watch the screen. " Why are you here and not in sickbay?" "M'Benga's on for sickbay. I thought I'd come to the bridge, in case Jim needed me to transport over to one of the ships." "What is he doing, Lenny? There's a cloaked Klingon warbird after us and he's going after a transport ship." "Don't really know, Caron, but watch and you'll find out. I stopped trying to follow him militarily, years ago. Even Spock just goes with the flow sometimes because he's almost as lost as me. Sooner or later, it all becomes clear." "Captain, the blip has not changed course, it is still heading away from us at warp factor five." "Uh huh, Sulu. I want you to loop around that transport so close we can see their seams. Then turn with it between us on our previous course, on my command." "Yes, sir." "Chekov, let the power on our shield start dropping a little. I want them weak on the starboard site, down to 50 percent." "Yes, Sir." They ran on in silence. "Shields at 50% on starboard side, Sir." "Good. Time to the transport, Mr. Sulu?" "At present speed 3.4 minutes, Sir." "On my mark, Mr. Sulu, warp 8 and execute maneuver." Still they waited quietly, calmly. Suddenly, Mr. Spock voice cut through the silence. "Klingon decloaking starboard side." "Now, Mr. Sulu. Shields to full, Mr. Chekov." They leapt the distance, closing the gap between them, and the remaining transport. Sulu spun the ship on a short axis rotation to take them behind the transport. The plasma beam from the Klingon warbird shot to the space they had just vacated and fell full force on the transport ship that they were now sheltered behind. "Z minus 30, Mr. Sulu. Fire at will, Mr. Chekov." They dropped below the transport ship and targeted the Klingon warbird. The exploding transport ship crippled the sensors of both ships. Chekov manually targeted and sent a full battery of phasers, followed in rapid succession by photon torpedoes. The Klingon ship reloaded and fired again hitting the forward Shields of the massive vessel which flared, having taken the brunt of the exploding transport and now the weaponry of the Klingon warbird. The forward shield buckled and collapsed, sending showers and sparks through the Bridge as she rocked with the impact of the combined detonations. "Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Sulu," this ship swung about and rolled to the side in a move both wondrous and graceful as the next shot from a warbird missed them barely and fled into the night. "Fire, Mr. Chekov." and he did almost point blank at the Klingon warbird sitting in front of them. All weapons erupted and the power of the enraged Enterprise breached its hull and sent it shattered and spinning away. Explosions rippled across its surface signaling its death. The dying Klingon ship's explosive force hit the Enterprise shield. A surge of energy caused a systems overload, shorting out the engineering console on the starboard side of the bridge. It exploded. Shards of metal and sparks flew. The crewperson in front of the console was killed instantly. The explosive force hurled him back. Fragments flew out and impacted the next available body, Kirk. He was thrown from his chair and landed, with a dull thud, on the floor. Jass watched it all in horror before she hit the deck, painfully. Jass picked herself up from the floor. She felt McCoy grab her arm to help. McCoy rushed over to the engineering Officer, who was closest, and turned quickly away. The explosion had ripped through his face, neck, and chest, leaving little intact. There was nothing he could do. He then turned and rushed to Kirk, who Spock was already kneeling beside. The Vulcan held Kirk and attempted to staunch the blood running from his Captain's forehead and left chest. An ugly shard of metal impaled Kirk through the left arm and into his chest wall. Someone, Uhura, probably had called for the medic and the team ran onto the bridge with more supplies. McCoy quickly and expertly began to work on his Captain. Kirk was unconscious. His head lolled to the side, unbearably vulnerable, to Jass, who had just watched him destroy four ships. A trickle of thin blood ran down the side of his face. The Vulcan did not move as the Doctor got to work quickly. Spock sat with his eyes closed and his face showed no trace of the emotion. His hands were placed over Kirk's face in some type of meld. At McCoy's signal, he lifted up Kirk in his arms as if he were a child. He took him up to the lift and through its doors, which opened to admit the medical team with their patient carried in the arms of his First Officer. Caron could see Spock slowly bend over to put him on the stretcher as the lift doors close. "Mr. Sulu, you have the con." Spock's words floated out of the lift before the doors shut. She stood as the next team came up, and with great reverence, took the dead crewman away. His name had been Carey Williams. A team from engineering was there before the dead man was gone, already pulling the console and beginning the repairs. Conspicuously and quietly in the lead of the team was Jason Kluge. She could not take her eyes off him as she watched him through dazed eyes. This was a different man. He quietly pointed, corrected, and smiled his encouragement. The team worked rapidly to restore the bridge to working condition. Jass watched as Kluge crossed over to the center chair and seeing the blood, Kirk's blood, running down the chair, he began to wipe it off with his own shirt, a tear running down his face. When he realized Jass was watching him, he wiped away the tear and turned back to his task. She continued to listen as reports came in to Uhura from all over the ship. Chekov and Sulu spoke over their COMs to the weapons and navigation departments to give further instructions and words of praise. Sulu got up and took the center chair and began to send the ship, on a long looping course to search for survivors. They found none. The Enterprise had sustained one fatality and 15 casualties. The most serious one was to its Captain who McCoy took to surgery to remove the metal sliver that had driven itself through his left arm, left lower lobe of his lung, through the pericardium of his heart, just missing his left ventricular wall. Jass spent the next day in her cabin in bed. She had been terrified and she felt herself overwhelmed by shock. She had seen a death, a near death firsthand, and watched the destruction of four ships full of living breathing humanoids. Her mind roiled. "This is not Kansas, Dorothy." Her door sounded. She couldn't answer. When she didn't it opened anyway and Leonard McCoy stepped in and crossed over to sit on her bedside. He sat there quietly for while waiting for her to speak. "Your first time?" She nodded. "It can be overwhelming, terrifying and shocking all at the same time, Caron. This is what I was talking about though. You probably understand better now than you ever have in the past, who we are. We live on the edge everyday and just like yesterday, a split second decision is the only thing between us and oblivion." She still was unable to form any words. Blood floated in front of her eyes. Klingon blood, raider blood, the Ensign's blood, and finally Kirk's blood running everywhere, pulsing with the beat of his pierced heart. "How is he?" She whispered. "Resting. He'll be fine. He's got the constitution of a bull or a Vulcan, whichever is more stubborn. I got the sliver out and patched him up about as nice is you can want. Actually, I'm pretty proud of myself. He is already awake and running his mouth. Boy just got a hole blown in his chest and he's asking to check out of sickbay." McCoy shook his head with a look of supreme affection on his face. "Of course, Spock helped with the meld before I got him to sickbay. It helped stabilize him, then I did the rest. If you ever want to explore space, take a Vulcan with you. They can come in real handy, if they like you." He began to chuckle to himself. "He almost died, just like the other one." Caron whispered. McCoy became suddenly serious. "I know that and so does he. That's why everyday we have is precious. You just never know. Even knowing that he could've been killed isn't going to change what we do, or have to do, one bit. It's who we are. We learned to face that a long time ago." "How is Spock?" McCoy raised both eyebrows in the unconscious imitation of the Vulcan, more than a little surprised at her question. "He's in sickbay with Jim. He's set up the chessboard next to Jim's bed and right now they're playing a game. And if Jim falls asleep between moves, Spock sits there and waits until he wakes up. He's fine, as long as Jim is, but that is strictly off the record." Suddenly the events of the previous few days erupted from her and she was no longer able to maintain the tenuous control she been battling for. First one tear hotly ran down her cheek, then another, until a cascade tracked its way across her face to land wetly on McCoy's shoulder where her head rested. McCoy held her and rocked her gently while she cried. After a while, she slept and the good Doctor left to go back to check on his other patient. It was another week before McCoy let Kirk out of the sickbay. She found him in the Rec room watching Spock and Uhura play a duet on Vulcan lyres. He moved a little slower and less powerfully then previously as he shifted in his chair. There was no visible sign otherwise that he had just recently been brushed by the hem of the grim reapers cloak. She went to sit next him and he smiled in welcome. "How are you doing, Dr. Jass? I'm sorry about what you just went through. We weren't trying to give you that type of voyage, but the vagaries of fate conspired against you." "You're the one I should be asking that question of, Captain. I saw you carried off the bridge and now, you sit here like nothing at all unusual has happened." "No, Dr. Jass. I lost a man last week, a good one. Something definitely happened." He said. "We just go on, Doctor. Any other choice is not acceptable." He closed his eyes, briefly gone somewhere else. She had nothing to say to that. His grief and raw pain was obvious, as if he had personally lost a loved one. "I hope you don't think I am trying to avoid you or anything. I still want to do the interview, but as you know I have been sort of," he smiled faintly, "indisposed." How about this evening over dinner? Join me in my cabin. I'll have them actually cook something for you to make up for what we've put you through. Deal?" "Deal, Captain. I'm looking forward to it." He smiled at her briefly, warmly, and turned back to watch the duet. When she arrived at his cabin later that evening, he welcomed her in and escorted her politely to a chair. "What would you prefer, Doctor, dinner or interview first; your choice?" "Actually, I think I would like to do the interview first. I don't think real well on a full stomach." She smiled and handed him the questionnaire. He silently read it, and answered the questions, before he handed it back to her. He waited patiently for her to review it for completeness and she sat it aside and leaned back into the chair. It was more than a little disconcerting to see this man sit calmly in front of her, and seem completely well, since only seven days ago she had watched him bleed into the supporting arms and lap of his First Officer. He didn't seem rattled in the least. "You seem inordinately peaceful for someone that just went up against four to one odds, and had a sliver of metal embedded in his chest. Didn't any of that faze you in the least?" His eyes narrowed a little and then shifted color, getting greener somehow. She wasn't sure what that meant. She could smell the faint aroma of his soap, his cleanliness. His cabin was immaculate, only a few actual books, and artifacts were scattered around, each thing making a statement. An IDIC was displayed prominently on his desk she could just make out a few framed photos laying next in his bed. He kept little it seemed, so everything he had must be important, she thought. What does the room tell me about the man, Kirk? She turned to take in the rest of the room, still waiting for his answer. Instead, she noticed that he was watching her look. Her eyes came to rest on the one thing prominently displayed in the room. Seated in the middle of the cabin, with two comfortable chairs lined up to either side, was the most exquisitely hand carved 3-D chest set she had ever seen. Nothing else had any similar position of importance.. She turned back to face him, only a trifle bit more certain who she was dealing with. "I have to accept what is past and done, Dr. Jass. It's a waste of time to rail against history. I don't have a lot of time to waste." "You know why I'm here," she stated. He nodded. "By the way, please call me, Caron," he nodded again, but did not offer his first name. "I find this ship and this crew to be fascinating and disturbing at the same time. Perhaps you can help me understand the dynamics aboard the Enterprise. I don't want to blow it completely in my report." "Cut the bullshit, Caron. What do you want to know about first, Kluge, Spock, or me?" She blinked rapidly. McCoy had been right, she thought. He had read her like she was an amateur. "All of that, actually. First, how did you know Kluge had done what he did? How the hell did you know about his father? When you finish answering that; what regulation gave you the right to beat that poor boy to a pulp? Suppose it hadn't worked; suppose you had ended up with a basket case? What right do you have to do what you did, to take that chance?" She took a deep breath to keep from rambling on. All the tension of the recent events was bubbling out of her. Part of her was furious with Kirk for being at the center of it all. Kirk looked at her. He conveyed vague amusement rather than the anger, or defensiveness, she expected. "It what order would you like me to answer your questions, Caron?" "Your choice, Captain," she spit out. Kirk leaned back in his chair and rested his head against its back with his eyes closed. He seemed comfortable and only slightly tired. She saw him dive into his own world for a moment and gather his thoughts before he began to answer. "Kluge was sent here for me to do whatever it took to keep him from self-destructing. Cartwright briefed me on all of his encounters on his previous ships. This is his fourth ship in three years, Doctor. That's unheard of. Every single one of them sent him away because he was nasty, mean, and dangerous to the ship. None of them had anything but praise about his engineering skills though. They all were impressed by those. Cartwright wanted him salvaged, so I got him along with all of his baggage. I also got clearance to do what I saw fit to accomplish the task. So I did it." "As for his father, no one is that much of the asshole without a good reason. I just asked someone back on Earth to do a little digging for me until I found out what his reason was. It doesn't excuse him. He still is responsible for his own choices, but it gave me an angle to use to get through to him. If it didn't work, so be it. He was already a basket case, Doctor. Someone was destined to put him out of his misery and quickly, if he hadn't changed. I made a command decision that reclaiming him was worth the risk of destroying him. I am paid, and trained, to make those types of decisions, Doctor. I don't apologize for it." "What type of cold, heartless, bastard are you? You sit up here and tell me it was just a command decision to beat him up in front of all of his crewmates, shatter his arm, and risk his sanity, just to make him a better crewman." Jass' sense of outrage made her voice rise. She lost her professional detachment for the moment. Kirk abruptly leaned forward into her personal space, a move that jarred her back to a semblance of control. His voice dipped, "I am whatever type of cold, heartless, bastard it takes, to do what I have to do. What would you rather have seen him do, kill someone first with his little tricks of sabotage? Or, did you prefer he rape a female crew member? He had already come close to doing both. Oh, maybe," he sneered, "you'd rather let him screw up in engineering first, so something failed and left us defenseless in front of a Klingon warbird. You have no concept of who I am, Doctor, or what I am. Save your preaching for your department heads who sit safe and secure at home. I wanted that boy to live, to become better than he was. I was not going to let him continue to endanger my ship. There are no gray areas on that subject. He was not going to stay here and be a threat to my crew. It was grow, or go. All I did was allow him to exercise choice." He leaned back and the threat evaporated. "How did you know he would pick what he did?" She still felt so angry. "He wanted space, this." he spread his arms out to encompass the ship, the crew, everything that surrounded them. "He wanted it so badly that he defied an abusive father. He dealt with always feeling alone and unwanted to be here. He fought for space, despite thinking that no one at anytime had ever, or would ever help him, or give a damn about him. I counted on that. He wasn't going to leave, and he was too much of an asshole to apologize. That only left fighting, and what bully wouldn't pick the smallest, weakest, opponent. That's why they're bullies; they're fearful and insecure. It didn't matter though. He didn't have a snow ball's chance in hell, whoever he chose. They all had the same instructions, but I knew it would be me." "Suppose he had beaten you?" "Then, I would've had to figure out something else, I guess." She watched him. He still sat relaxed and unperturbed by her questions or her anger. She wanted to rattle him, to make him feel some of the uncertainty she felt. "You still haven't finished answering all of my questions. What about Spock?" "What in particular are you asking about, his skills as a First Officer, his role on the ship; specify?" Kirk did not shift or display the slightest disturbance. She wondered briefly if this was what an enemy Commander saw in him. "Are you lovers?" She decided to go for the kill. She watched as he slowly sat up and opened his eyes wider to look at her. She was struck by the intensity of his gaze and she almost backed down, almost, but didn't. "Why are you asking me that?" "I have been watching you two carefully, Captain. You speak without talking to each other. He allows, even initiates physical contact with you. The Crew sees you as almost blended into one entity. He knew you were hurt in the gym, and was moving towards you before you even bent over. When you were hurt on the bridge, he held you and carried you like you were his most precious possession. Is that why you work so well together, are you bonded in some way?" He chuckled to himself and shook his head. "My, my, my, aren't we observant. If we were lovers, Dr. Jass, that sure would ruin your landmark study. Conclusion," he intoned, "the certain way to command team excellence is to make sure they are fucking each other, only then will it work. End of study. Let me guess, when you asked Spock this question, he politely told you to mind your own business." "That pretty much describes what he said, yes." He continued to look at her, until she felt his eyes suck her in whole. She felt helpless in his presence. Then suddenly, he released her; she felt herself slump back. "Lovers, hmm," more to himself than to her. "Since you are the official representative of Starfleet, I'll give you a better answer than I have ever given anyone else. No, Doctor, we are not lovers, but there is no human equivalent to explain what we are. You are not the first person to ask me that question, and for the record, don't ever ask me that again." Kirk shrugged almost regretfully, " I prefer sex with women . I hope it serves your purpose to know that bit of information. You can be sure there are some really curious snoops at Starfleet who would want to know that. In conclusion, Spock is the single most important person in my life, more than a brother, and the only person I have ever met that may be able to survive being with me." He looked down at his hands, briefly. "I value him more than I do my own life. Even with all that, I will sacrifice him to the cause as readily as I would myself. Can you understand that?" "You'd kill your best friend?" She whispered. He looked up at her with a strange gleam in his eyes. "I have before." There was not the slightest hint of an apology in his gaze. "I don't understand you, Captain." She finally confessed. He smiled slightly, suddenly looking very vulnerable and young. It made her want to hold him and comfort him. "No, I don't suppose you do." He smiled sadly. "Do you still want to eat, or would you rather leave?" She watched him briefly as she considered leaving. She decided against it. She wanted to see more of this man, in fact she hungered for it. She could hear his song calling her into the rocks, just like McCoy had said, but more on the basis of intellectual curiosity, then the need for emotional intimacy. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, she would never survive an intimate relationship with this man. Even now, as he allowed his barriers to drop just for an instant, what she glimpsed made her recoil in fear of the flames. "I'd like to stay. There's no sense letting all this good food go to waste." She smiled even as he did. They got up and went over to the meal that had been laid out. He showed her to a chair and began to serve her like she was royalty. The meal was delicious as promised. Kirk worked hard to dispel the earlier mood. He seduced her shamelessly with his charm and his humor; she found herself relaxing almost in spite of herself. Somewhere during the dinner, he told her to call him, Jim, and that seemed somehow very right. The person who sat in front of her was not Captain James T. Kirk. He was Jim, a bright, easy going, handsome, sensualist from Iowa. Captain Kirk was something altogether different. The flow into the person before her was more than a little disconcerting, but she took it in stride. She began to understand Spock's answer to her earlier question. "That and more, Dr. Jass, so much more." When Caron lay in bed later that evening she felt the prior events swirling and colliding like bumper cars at one of the old-style amusement parks. She felt something teasing at the corner of her awareness, a new paradigm of command structure, but it stayed achingly out of reach, at least for now. They reached Starbase 6, where she would rendezvous with a transport to the next ship. She had not seen Kirk again except at the memorial service for the dead crewmember. They had waited until all the injured crewmen were all well enough to attend. After that, she caught fleeting glimpses of him in corridors and on the bridge. Often, he was shadowed by Spock, or Kluge; who he still met with regularly, according to McCoy. The boy's turnaround had been nothing short of miraculous. McCoy had him in therapy and Kluge visibly worshipped Kirk and Scotty. He had even been seen to laugh over a game in the same rec room where, earlier, he had harassed Ensign Jenner. McCoy visited her regularly and she enjoyed the time they spent the together. When he asked her about her thoughts regarding the Kluge incident, she could honestly tell him she understood. He smiled in visible relief and proceeded to tell her a ridiculously amusing story about a man named Mudd and a world of androids. She honestly couldn't tell, as she held her sides while she laughed over his description of an insane plan they had made up to escape, whether he was a being truthful or not. She decided she didn't care. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy transported down to the star base with her when they arrived. The Captain had been given permission to lay over for a few days and take some leave. She planned on spending her time while she waited for her transport, working on her research, and allowing Leonard to entertain her. He had proven to be very efficient at doing that, and quite enjoyable she thought, with a wicked look in her eyes. Spock approached her solemnly, " Live long and prosper, Dr. Jass." "Thank-you, Mr. Spock. I apologize for anything I might have done to irritate you." "Vulcans do not get irritated, Dr. Jass." McCoy snickered in the background. She turned to Kirk who raised her hands to his lips, and kissed them, with a little twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Take care of my CMO, Caron. I need him back in one-piece, and he isn't as young as he once was." "Shut up, Jim, you're just jealous," grumbled McCoy good- naturedly. "And who wouldn't be, Bones? See you back at the ship. Goodbye, Caron, and good-luck." "Thank you, Jim, for everything." She smiled and watched him and the Vulcan walk off to meet the Commander of the base. She and McCoy had a lovely time. It wasn't until she was snuggled in her bed on board the transport ship, on her way to the next Starship, that she realized, Kirk had never really answered her question about Spock. What he had said was: "There is no human equivalent to what we are to each other." How did she miss that? "Damn that man," she thought, "now I will never know." Later, when she got to Earth, the pieces finally fell into place. She made an official report to Starfleet that not only made some startling conclusions on what made up an ideal command team, she made official recommendations. It was many years before the finished proposal was instituted and the Enterprise D never knew they owed their entire command structure to Dr. Caron Jass and the crew of the Original Enterprise. Caron Jass did finally learn the answer to her other question, but that is another story. THE END 38 1