SHIELDBEARER
(An Alternative Universe story)
The rodent beings of Dimorus tracked the five humans, their animal senses fully alert as they smelled the warm blood ahead. Chattering quietly to one another, they stalked the Landing Party, their poisonous darts prepared.
A voice sounded in the silence of the woods. "A group of humanoids approaching us, sir. Tricorder readings indicate fifteen persons approximately one metre in height."
"Phasers on stun," said another.
"They're all around us, Jim," said the first man.
"Back to back," the second voice ordered. "Do not fire unless I give the command. They may not be hostile."
Hysrani, the Leader of the People stepped forward, his tail raised in a gesture of peace, exposing his genitals to the strangers in a spontaneous show of friendship. With a shriek, he allowed a hot stream of urine to flow in their direction; a singular honour to the newcomers.
A cry of revulsion escaped from one of the men, and with deliberate intent he fired his phaser directly at the native.
"Gary!" the human leader cried.
Screams pierced the still air as the People saw their beloved chieftain fall, his friendly overtures spurned by the large ones and repayed by a vicious and unprovoked attack.
Diav, the Second Leader, stared up at the aliens as he crouched by the prone body of Hysrani. "Murderers," he screamed, his fur-covered hands preparing to aim the dart at the killer.
"Universal Translator," Kirk snapped.
The Science Officer immediately complied. "Operational, sir."
"We come in peace," Kirk said, his voice translating into the squeaking dialect of the aliens. "We mean you no harm. Please allow us to help him."
Mitchell groaned in disgust. "Did you see what it did?"
"Shut up, Mitchell," Kirk responded, his eyes intent on the small, excited creatures before him. "We did not intend to hurt you." He took a careful step forward.
The dart flew out of the kneeling native's hand directly towards Gary Mitchell. Instinctively, Kirk pushed his friend out of the way, but a sharp pain caused him to cry out as the tiny weapon struck his arm. A numbing ache rapidly spread through him and he stumbled, falling on top of the man he had saved. His hand reached for his communicator, trying to open it as more of the deadly darts hit the other three members of the Landing Party.
"Beam us aboard," he gasped as his sight began to fail him. "Emergency."
***
Kirk's eyes opened. "No, it didn't happen like that," he murmured.
Yet, why did the dream persist? It returned more vividly each time. At first he had dismissed it as shock or poison, perhaps drug-related hallucination, or even jealousy over Gary being lauded as a hero and given command of the Enterprise. However a conviction was growing that there was an element of truth in the recurrent dreams.
Once again he dismissed that line of thought. He had read Gary's report. Now that he was recovering from the effects of the attack, there was plenty of time to catch up on all those months spent unconscious in a life-support unit at Earth's Starfleet Hospital. Apart from the physical weakness due to lack of exercise, he felt fine. His body was regaining strength every day as he diligently worked with the physiotherapists, determined to recover his normal peak condition. Soon he would be ready to take up his position as First Officer of the Enterprise.
He smiled a little. Gary had asked for him and was returning to Earth after a two month shakedown cruise of his new ship. Kirk would join him in a few short days, but the nagging doubts persisted despite his eagerness at returning to duty. There had to be something wrong. His memory had never been faulty before. How could he not remember at least some of the events recorded in the official report? Could the poison have affected him so much that even now, months later, he was still unable to recall the details?
For the tenth time, he ordered the report from his computer terminal. He scanned it, waiting for his memory to return, needing to confirm for himself that it had happened in exactly that way.
'REPORT ON THE DIMORUS LANDING'
Lt. Commander Gary Mitchell, acting Captain of the survey ship 'Albion'.
Commander James T. Kirk, Lt. Lee Chang, Lt. Mia Ramone, Yeoman Silver and myself were victims of an unprovoked attack by the natives of the planet Dimorus. We were examining the flora and fauna when a horde of the beings appeared from behind the cover of the trees and threw small projectiles at us. Commander Kirk pushed me aside, taking the one directed at me himself. The others were also hit, but by many of the darts. I - protected by Commander Kirk's body - escaped unhurt.
They assaulted us with clubs and knives. Commander Kirk was struck several times. I fought with them, eventually frightening them with my greater size and strength. They retreated and I was able to determine that three of my crewmates were dead. However, Commander Kirk still lived. I immediately contacted the ship, started to suck the poison from the dart wound the Commander had received, and shortly after we were beamed aboard.
Yeoman Silver's tricorder was smashed so there is no visual record of these events.
Kirk turned the computer off thoughtfully. Dr. Mirani had confirmed that he would have certainly died if Gary had not removed most of the poison from his system. He sighed deeply knowing that he owed Gary his life, yet he was uneasy. His gut instincts led him to believe there was something wrong, but he was unable to pinpoint it. He gave himself a shake in an attempt to cast his doubts aside. To be First Officer of a starship was a highly responsible position, more prestigious than the command of a survey vessel, yet a tiny voice deep inside goaded him with the suggestion that he should have been Captain of the Enterprise. He had been higher in rank than Mitchell, surely the next in line for command of a starship, but he tried to overcome his feelings of envy. Gary's actions had been heroic; fighting many belligerent foes, saving the life of his closest friend, getting them to safety. Surely Mitchell deserved to be rewarded with his own command?
Kirk concentrated on hard exercise in an effort to forget his niggling persistent questions. Gary had been promoted and was now his captain; it was his duty to be the finest first officer possible to the friend who had saved him. He owed that and more. Didn't he?
***
Commander Spock, Science Officer of the Enterprise waited in the Transporter Room to greet James T Kirk, the newly appointed First Officer. Spock had been Acting First Officer during the shakedown cruise and had disliked every moment of it. He was relieved that burden would be lifted from him, but knew that Kirk was the Captain's friend of many years standing. He shuddered at the thought of another like Mitchell - arrogant, domineering and abrasive with little consideration for the customs of other species.
Used to the quiet, dignified Christopher Pike, Spock was finding great difficulty in adapting to Mitchell's brash command style. The Captain's behaviour during the recent alien encounter had seriously alarmed the Vulcan. Only Spock's scientific knowledge had saved them from a conflict which could have had deadly consequences. Mitchell had been displeased by Starfleet's criticism of his actions, but had accepted their judgement that his newness at command had been the cause of his impulsive decisions. Spock had received a citation, but had sensed Mitchell's resentment over Admiral Nogura's generously given praise. He had been dismissed once the communication had ended, the Captain barely speaking to him since.
Applying for a transfer seemed a most attractive prospect, and Spock decided that if Kirk was as petty an individual as Mitchell, he would request reassignment. Although the most modest of beings, Spock was aware of his reputation as the best Science Officer in the Fleet. There would be no shortage of places for him if he indicated a wish to leave the Enterprise.
The familiar shimmer of the transporter effect coalesced into the body of a young human male of average height. His muscled form was relaxed, a lock of unruly blond/brown hair lay on his forehead, his face - handsome by human standards - was alert and full of intelligent curiosity. Large expressive hazel eyes flicked about the room, finally coming to rest on the tall, thin figure of the Vulcan.
Spock was mesmerised as he was caught in an intense gaze that did not retreat before his own. A sudden jolt of intangible emotion flashed through his senses, rendering him speechless as the other seemed to reach into his carefully constructed shields and really see his inner self. Shocked by his own reaction, he quickly clamped down on it, pushing it aside, but for the first time in many years his Vulcan control failed him. He struggled for calm. He had never met this man before. He could not know him - did not know him.
The First Officer's lips parted into a wide, wondering smile which lit up his face with a radiant glow. Spock swallowed, deeply affected by the presence, emanations and charisma from this human, the open, genuine welcome from a stranger and the delight so obviously felt on meeting a Vulcan.
"Permission to come aboard?" the human was asking.
Spock schooled his voice to a steadiness that did not betray the strange sensations warring within him. "Permission granted, sir."
Kirk stepped from the dais and walked over to the Science Officer, his eyes resting on the angular Vulcan features, openly and unashamedly studying him. The presence of this man was disturbing. Spock could sense his emotions and some of his thoughts, even though there was no physical contact between them. What had happened to his shields, his protection against humans? Why did he not resent the close scrutiny?
He steeled himself, clasped his hands tightly together behind his back, but was unable to wrench his gaze from Kirk's. There was a long moment of silence before he could find his voice. "I am Commander Spock, Science Officer. I am to greet you and escort you to your quarters."
He inclined his head, somehow wanting to show the deepest respect to this unusual man, but on raising his eyes saw, to his amazement, that Kirk was courteously returning the bow! Spock strove to control his expression, for no human had ever greeted him in such a manner.
"I am honoured to meet you, Mr. Spock," Kirk said. He smiled again, causing another wave of unaccustomed emotion to sweep over the Vulcan. "Your fame is well known to me. Whilst recuperating from injury recently, I read your paper on the possibility of parallel universes. I found it most interesting and if you will permit, I would like to discuss the theory with you sometime."
Spock could scarcely swallow. A human command officer showing interest in the theories of a Vulcan scientist! He was genuine about it too, for Spock sensed that very clearly. He took a firm hold on his confused mind, calling upon all his years of control. "Indeed, sir. I would be honoured." He hesitated then added, "Please follow me."
Kirk nodded, glanced at the transporter operator in greeting, then followed the Vulcan out into the corridor. His thoughts were in a turmoil at the profound emotions stirred by Spock. Something inside had settled as those dark eyes had met his, as if all was now going to be all right, as if he had at last found security in his life. An intense happiness had overcome him as that piercing alien gaze had seemed to penetrate his mind, touching him with powerful strength in some mysterious alien way. Suddenly he had not felt alone anymore! He gave himself a mental shake. Surely he was imagining things, still Vulcans were telepaths, perhaps...
"Captain Mitchell wishes you to join him on the Bridge as soon as you are settled, sir." Spock's voice interrupted his musing as they reached the senior officers' quarters.
"Very well, Mr. Spock," Kirk replied. "Are you going to the Bridge?"
"Yes, sir."
"Will you wait a few moments and accompany me?"
Spock frowned slightly, but seeing no logical reason to refuse, nodded in agreement. He stood by the door as Kirk entered the room, but gave a slight start a short time later as the human popped his head out and asked, "Aren't you coming in?"
"If you wish, sir," he replied, attempting to regain his composure.
He entered and stood stiffly to attention, his eyes staring straight ahead, waiting as Kirk checked a small case of belongings, uncomfortable in another's private domain. He stayed close by the door, nervous and unsure, but of precisely what, he did not know.
"I'll unpack later," Kirk said, "just want to see all my books are here." The human looked over, then raised a hand towards him. "Please, Mr. Spock, I don't require such military formality from you."
Spock raised an eyebrow at those words, but his stance eased into a less formal one. He glanced at the case filled with old-fashioned bound books. Very few people collected them now, when all the literature of the Federation was available on computer disk. For a moment he was reminded of his mother's extensive library at home. She too was fond of real books as she called them, and had instilled a similar interest in her son.
With faint astonishment registering in his confused mind, Spock found himself relaxing with this man. Kirk was completely unlike the Captain; he could not be more different. How could such a one have been friends with Mitchell for so long? Yet, Spock knew from the many years of serving with humans that their friendships were often shallow, fleeting arrangements. There were rarely deep commitments between them, and even those were empty in comparison to the profound bonds of Vulcans.
He sighed inwardly as he remembered that he would never know such a bond. Half-human outsider amongst his father's people, not considered suitable or worthy of the privilege of being t'hy'la to another; half-Vulcan amongst his mother's kind, always the cold, aloof alien in their world of love, laughter and emotion, not a candidate for even their limited forms of companionship.
"Nothing lost this time," Kirk commented. "Once three of my first editions were mislaid. Never saw them again." He stood back from the case, pulled his tunic straight and stared up at Spock. "Do you like books, Mr. Spock?"
"Indeed, sir. There is a certain aesthetic beauty in a real book," he found himself volunteering. "In my quarters I have several scientific works of great antiquity."
Kirk's eyes lit up with interest. "May I see them some time, Mr. Spock? Are they Vulcan books?"
Spock blinked several times at the waves of enthusiasm emanating from the human. "You may see them if you wish, sir. They are the theories of T'Kara and Siran.
"The T'Kara and Siran!" Kirk exclaimed. "The original discoverers of warp drive?"
"Affirmative, sir," Spock replied, trying to mask his surprise. Most humans - in their arrogance - awarded that breakthrough to Zephram Cochrane, regardless of the fact that Vulcans had travelled space for many centuries before the human race had taken their 'one small step' on the moon. Granted Cochrane was the first of his species to invent a workable warp engine, but the immense distances travelled by starships had only been made available to them when Vulcan had entered an alliance with Earth and her colony worlds and had permitted an exchange of knowledge.
Spock looked at the young First Officer with increased interest and respect, the illogical conviction growing within him that he would be able to work beside Kirk with remarkable ease.
Nonsense, he told himself, you have only just met him. He is being pleasant and courteous. Yet even that was enough to make him outstanding. All humans were wary during their first meeting with Vulcans. Often it persisted for some time. Spock was used to their fear and apprehension of an alien who looked like a legendary demon, had telepathic powers, greater strength, superior mathematical and scientific abilities. Kirk was different, treating him with ease and acceptance, open and relaxed as if he had known Spock all of his life.
As Kirk plied him with questions, the Vulcan had the sudden premonition that his world had just turned upside down. Vulcan scientists had made major breakthroughs in the new and unknown area of warp-physics which governed hyperspace. Spock himself was at the forefront of research, perfectly placed for such work in his position as Science Officer. As he and Kirk travelled to the Bridge, he found himself explaining his latest findings to an interested and receptive audience of one.
***
Kirk walked out of the turbo-lift with a spring in his step that did not go unnoticed by the Captain of the Enterprise; a man full of apprehension as he wondered if his old friend remembered the events which had really occurred on Dimorus.
"Jim," he said, holding out his hand in greeting, grinning with relief when he saw the guileless smile on the other's face. He relaxed as Kirk shook his hand in a firm, warm grasp.
"Captain," Jim said, a twinkle in his expressive eyes.
"Welcome aboard," Mitchell said, his doubts and worries at rest now, assured that no-one could dispute his report. Dr. Mirani had been correct. The poison of the darts, combined with the antidote she had administered to Kirk had affected recent memory patterns.
All Mitchell's old charm returned as he introduced Kirk to the Bridge Crew, secure in the knowledge that he was safe - for now - and hopefully for ever. However in the months apart and in the excitement of his new command, Gary had forgotten the power of his former commander's charisma, so it was with growing annoyance and bitter jealousy that he watched it working on his crew. Maybe it had been a mistake requesting Kirk as First Officer, but he had wanted him under his control if the true memory of the Dimorus landing ever resurfaced, and there were questions raised about the truth of the official report. It was preferable to him being light years away and free to call an inquiry.
"You've met Mr. Spock," he commented after all the introductions were complete.
"Yes, you're a lucky man to have a Vulcan Science Officer, Captain," Kirk said enthusiastically. "He's a fascinating person."
Gary grimaced, settled into his chair and looked up at Kirk. "Cold, insensitive like a block of ice," he murmured. "He's so damn perfect, thinks he knows everything."
Kirk stared at him in shock. A captain did not make remarks like that about any member of his crew in public, even to his first officer. Any matters pertaining to dissatisfaction with the performance of an officer should be dealt with in private. Kirk studied the viewscreen as he assimilated the fact that Mitchell's remarks had been vindictive and personal, nothing to do with Spock's ability at his job.
Was this how the Enterprise was run? Not a ship's company working together in harmony as Kirk had always strived to attain with his own commands, but with snide comments about non-human personnel from the Captain - one who ought to know better! What more disturbing problems would he find on the Enterprise?
"If you'll excuse me, I'd like to tour the ship before my first duty shift," he said stiffly, knowing that Mitchell awaited a response from him.
Mitchell grinned a little. "Aw, don't be such a bore, Jim." He sighed, then added, "Okay, but meet me in the Officer's Rec Room at 19:00. We'll eat, drink, talk over old times."
"Certainly, sir. May I request that Mr. Spock accompanies me?" Kirk asked, defiantly staring the Captain out.
"You got poor taste, old buddy," Gary said with a chuckle, but he swivelled around to face the science station. "Mr. Spock, accompany Mr. Kirk on his tour of the ship."
Spock's shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly before he turned around. "Yes sir," he replied in a toneless voice.
Kirk felt a stab of sympathy for Spock. Obviously Gary forgot, or chose to ignore the acute hearing of the Vulcan people. Surely the Science Officer must have heard that last remark. "Only if it is suitable for you, Mr. Spock. I don't wish to take you from important duties," he said allowing him a way out.
Spock studied him for a moment before replying. "My deputy can deal with it, sir. I would be honoured to accompany you."
Kirk smiled widely. "Good," he said.
Mitchell sat back as the two men left, somehow not liking what had just happened. He and Kirk had been friends since Academy days, they had always been as close as brothers. Jim used to be excellent company until he had begun to get command duties, becoming more serious and thoughtful and less inclined to the escapades they had always participated in together. He remembered Jim's first captaincy and the devotion his friend had inspired in the crew. Gary had been just as ready to lay down his life for that young commander as any other, and had risked everything when the Dimorans had attacked, fighting them off with a frenzied fury, then further endangering himself by sucking the poison from Jim's wound. If only he had not caused the incident in the first place by his instinctive revulsion to the alien's action! Kirk would not have been at death's door, the others would still be alive, but he - Mitchell - would not have been given the opportunity of starship command.
He closed weary eyes, his mind reeling in helpless confusion.
***
The Enterprise was the only real home Spock had known. He had lived within her protective shell for many years; she was familiar, a comforting cocoon, an undemanding companion in whom he could retreat and be at peace in the solitude of her vast, empty places. Through Kirk's reactions, he saw her in a new light; an exciting masterpiece of Federation technology, more than a ship of metal, an inanimate object controlled by machines and their sentient masters, but a living, vibrant being complete with her own personality and encompassing demands.
He trailed along beside the enthusiastic human, watching his ardent touches on the gleaming bulkheads, the wondering looks on every aspect of her. Everyone Kirk met became excited by his interest, explaining their particular field to him with open relish. Spock had never met anyone with such a gift for drawing people out and knew, with a complete certainty which caused a baffled astonishment, that even he - a Vulcan - was succumbing to Kirk's charm.
He forced a mask of aloofness across his features, but it wavered when Kirk asked that he join him for a meal. Spock had heard all Mitchell's whispered comments earlier and had noted Kirk's disapproval of them. He wondered at the motives - if any - of the young man; surely it was obvious that the Captain would not welcome Spock at his table! He fought his surprise with limited success but found himself accepting the invitation, illogically wanting to remain within the remarkable aura of this unusual person.
Mitchell did not hide his distaste and annoyance as Kirk informed him that Spock would be joining them. "I wanted us to have some time together, Jim. Talk over old times, just the two of us. You understand, Mr. Spock," he added with a glance at the Vulcan.
Before Kirk could speak, Spock stepped back. "If you will excuse me," he murmured, inclining his head.
After watching the Vulcan make his way over to another table, Kirk placed his tray down, angrily glared at Gary but resignedly sat opposite him. "That was impolite," he criticised.
"I didn't invite him," Gary replied with a shrug.
"I did," Kirk countered.
Gary stared at him wistfully. "Jim, it's so long since we talked. You were still very sick when I left. I just wanted to talk to you in private."
Kirk sighed. "I know, it's just that he's been so helpful to me since my arrival. His knowledge is truly remarkable! We could all learn so much from such a genius."
"Jim, he's a Vulcan. They like to show us humans up, that's all. Anyway, he doesn't have feelings."
Kirk shook his head. He was unable to understand Gary's prejudice. His old friend had always respected other life-forms before, even if he was inclined to be a little sarcastic about some. Could it be that Mitchell resented the Vulcan receiving a citation for the recent alien encounter whilst he had only gained disapproval and a condescending remark about his inexperience?
"You don't believe that, Gary. Any captain in the Fleet would fight ten Klingons to get a Science Officer like him! Captain Pike respected him deeply. Have you read those reports?"
"Aw the hell with Pike. Tell me, how are you feeling, Jim? Are you fully recovered? I was real worried about you, old friend." Mitchell deliberately changed the topic.
Kirk looked at him searchingly in an effort to check his sincerity. "I'm fine, a little weak but that's improving all the time."
Mitchell hesitated over his next question. "Jim, are you still having nightmares about the attack?"
The expression in Kirk's eyes was candid and clear. "Yes, sometimes but the doctor assured me that they should ease off, and they have somewhat. The shock to my system from that poison was nasty. Dr. Mirani reckoned it could linger in my bloodstream for a long time. If you hadn't removed most of it from the wound, I'd be a dead man."
Gary lowered his eyes, unable to take the gratitude in that gaze. "Hey, if you hadn't pushed me out of the way, I'd be the dead man." He grinned. "We're even, Jim. You saved my life and I saved yours." He glanced up to see the other's reaction.
Kirk was chuckling, but he suddenly became serious. "Gary, my debt to you is a greater one, but if that's what you want, well you are my commanding officer."
Gary repressed a shiver of fear. If Jim ever remembered the real situation and took action upon it, then his captaincy would be in jeopardy. A Starfleet inquiry board would remove him from command if they ever found out he had falsified the Dimorus report.
"Does that bother you?" he asked suddenly, needing to know how his former commander felt.
The silence stretched into endless seconds before Kirk replied. "A little I guess. Hell, I wouldn't be human if I didn't feel some envy. You deserve the Enterprise, Gary. You were a real hero, saved my life and that's something I'll never be able to repay. I can only promise that I won't let you down. I'll be the best First Officer I can possibly be."
Reassured now, Mitchell relaxed. "You'll be the best in the Fleet."
They ate their meal in silence, each thinking his own thoughts. Kirk looking over at Spock's table,saw that the Science Officer sat alone, almost pensive as he consumed a colourful vegetarian meal, barely seeming to taste it. As if aware of his scrutiny, the Vulcan glanced towards him and their eyes met. Kirk smiled in acknowledgement and saw - perhaps sensed - the surprise from Spock. Something about the other drew him. It was the strangest thing! He could not understand it.
As the Science Officer stood up, took his tray to the recycler and made his way to the exit, Kirk's eyes followed him until the doors closed behind his lean form.
***
Kirk was delighted to be reunited with another old friend, Leonard McCoy - the ship's C.M.O. After the compulsory medical, the two men shared a bottle of brandy together, talking about old times and the present situation. Kirk played with his glass, unsure if it was wise to confide in McCoy about his doubts over Gary, but the Doctor knew his young friend well enough and noted his uncertainty.
"Spit it out, Jim," he said bluntly.
Kirk stared at him, then grinned with a touch of embarrassment; he had forgotten how perceptive Bones could be. "I'm kinda bothered about Gary."
"Being your Captain?" Bones asked, going straight to the point. He smiled sympathetically at Jim's slightly heightened colour. "Everyone knows this ship should've been yours. It was just unfortunate. No-one knew if you'd recover from the effects of the poison. Starfleet didn't dare take the risk you might not. So Gary - almost as suitable as you - a hero of the Dimorus expedition was the next choice." He sighed and took another swig of his drink. "Personally, I think they were too hasty and made a big mistake."
Kirk leaned forward, his every sense alert. So it was not just envy on his part, there were doubts amongst others. "He worries me, Bones," he said, deciding to trust McCoy. "It's his attitude, especially towards Mr. Spock."
McCoy nodded. "I know Spock isn't exactly easy to get along with, Jim. The man is a genius, his knowledge so wide! But if not for him, we'd all be very dead. Instead of appreciation or gratitude or even respect, our exalted Captain resents him. Seems damn like bigotry to me."
The awkwardness of Kirk's position was becoming abundantly clear. He was First Officer, expected to be loyal to his Captain, but as McCoy continued telling him about the crew's dissatisfaction over some of Mitchell's behaviour, he began to feel the beginnings of real fear for the future. A serving captain who resented the abilities of an exceptional science officer and showed tendencies towards the enjoyment of his own power was a recipe for disaster.
"I'm glad you're here, Jim. Maybe you can control some of his excesses. There's not a lot of respect for him on this ship."
"Does Starfleet know of this?" Kirk asked.
McCoy shrugged. "They know about the alien encounter and they have my medical reports." He chuckled then added, "I'm afraid those were not very complimentary. Gary doesn't like me much anyway, so I don't care if he managed to get copies of them."
"But medical reports are confidential, Bones!" Kirk exclaimed.
"Yeah, but when Admiral Granlee is your uncle... " the Doctor commented.
Kirk whistled softly. He had forgotten about Gary's connections. All of the family had been in Starfleet or were still working for it in some capacity. Kirk liked to think that promotions were granted by merit, but he was not naive enough to believe that nepotism was not a factor at times. He left the Doctor's office more concerned than ever.
***