Journey to Babel - Chapter Seven - Part 2
Jim is moved to a different biobed three hours later.
Bones brings her a puppy as a form of a truce. He dumps the beagle onto her lap with a scowl and says, "I dare you to be cruel that."
Jim gives him an amused frown as she scratches the small canine behind one of its floppy ears. "What's his name?" she asks.
Bones's shoulders relax partiality but he still looks at her like he's expecting her to levitate the tiny creature and sick it on every one of his orderlies. He says, "Max. You named him."
Jim hums and smiles when Max whimpers and licks at her cheeks. "Is he mine?"
"Technically," Bones supposes. "I believe the way it works is that you and Scotty have joint custody, even though you're supposed to give him back to his original owner: Admiral Archer."
Jim shrugs. Those names don't really mean anything to her.
Bones sighs. "Scotty says he's keeping him for 'scientific purposes' but I'm calling his bluff because he seemed mighty bereft when I came to collect the little furball from engineering."
"Max," Jim corrects and continues to stroke said puppy. "His name is Max. Not furball. When you get your own pet, you can name it whatever you want."
Bones huffs. He glances to the biofunction monitor screen discreetly but it still grates Jim's nerves. He says, "You should eat."
"I know."
"You have to eat."
"I know."
"Damn it, Jim-"
"I'm not hungry," Jim calmly interjects and lets Max press his wet nose against the back of her left hand before he strokes his warm tongue over her skin. She notes with amusement that he's scent-marking her.
"If you have it your way," Bones starts lowly, sounding like he's speaking between clenched teeth. "You'll never be hungry. I know you, Kid. You don't eat when you're unhappy."
Jim tenses and she's sure that her eyes are unfailingly cold as she regards him. "Don't you have something else to do? Besides wasting my time?"
"You'll eat or I'll stick a tube down your throat."
Jim's eyes flash with electric blue. "I'd like to see you try, Doctor."
Bones grimaces but he doesn't back down. "I'm not scared of you, little girl."
Jim smirks meanly. "I don't really care. Now leave me alone."
To her surprise, Bones does, but she's not stupid enough to think he wont be back within the next fifteen minutes to fuss and gripe at her again.
Truth is, Jim thinks bitterly, is that he's totally right. She doesn't eat when she's unhappy. She's gotten into the habit of associating a good meal with a cheerful disposition. When she's anything but, she let's her stomach stay empty. It's more of a-it's a personal quirk. Starving herself helps her disconnect from some of her more stormy emotions. It's hard to explain but the husk that is James T. Kirk has always been convoluted ever since Tarsus-maybe even ever since birth.
Jim cradles Max in her lap and takes a peek at the PADD she has stashed under the covers. It's almost time for her to stage her great escape. She just has to do one thing.
Dr. Chapel makes her rounds to each biobed occupied by a patient (as she tends to do every nineteen minutes) and she pauses unsurely when Jim waves her over. It's only a minute pause but she approaches Jim with a very unconvincing smile.
Jim grins a little smugly and says, "I'm not going to bite you. I would've been did that."
Chapel shoots her a look before she snaps her gaze down to the puppy on her lap. "How can I help you, Jim?" she asks distractedly as she makes a few ridiculous faces at the beagle.
"I was wondering about a favor," Jim says and keeps her expression blank when Chapel glances up at her with suspicion. "They say there was a man from before. The one who rescued us from the planet? Who is he?"
Chapel relaxes and straightens. "Lieutenant Commander Hikaru Sulu. He's your-he's the ship's helmsman."
"Cool," Jim simply says. "Could I-that is…" She ducks her head before looking up at Chapel from under her thick lashes. She really needs to sell this. "Do you think he'd come by so I can thank him? I mean, it's not-I don't expect him to or anything. I just-I should thank him, shouldn't I?"
Chapel melts and she smiles softly. "Of course, Jim. Of course he would-" She pauses to laugh. "I wish you could hear how ridiculous you sound."
Jim shrugs weakly and grins self-consciously.
"I'll see if I can pull him away from whatever little project he's mixed up in," Chapel promises. "You just sit tight."
Jim nods and watches the curvy doctor wander off to her personal office, which sits sandwiched between Bones's and some other guy (Mengie? Magna? M'Bingo?). She picks up Max and gently deposits him on the floor.
Max cocks his head and looks up at her with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and a wagging tail.
"Don't look at me like that," Jim says, shaking her finger down at him and he eagerly watches the motion with bemusement. "I'm doing what I have to do, so don't judge me."
Max just gives a whining keen before he wanders off with his nose low to the ground as if in search of something
Jim just watches him go and doesn't think about anything in particular.
Chapel sweeps up to her with a triumphant grin that suits her comely face and says, "He'll be down in a few."
Jim grins and settles down on the edge of her bed. When Chapel looks like she might linger, Jim says, "So are you and I dating?"
"Excuse me?" Chapel blurts with wide eyes.
"I heard I'm dating someone. Only Spock won't tell me who this someone is," Jim explains and takes delight in the way it makes Chapel look anxious and confused.
"He didn't say that-" Chapel stops abruptly and suddenly she looks very amused. "Oh this is priceless. I have to tell Nyota. She probably already knows, in which case, I'm going to have to kick her for not letting me in on it."
Jim's grin fizzles down into a frown. She doesn't find anything amusing about it at all. She says, "Can I touch your ears?"
Chapel stops her ramblings and blink. "What?"
"You're very pretty," Jim continues in a soft purr. "You sure we're not dating?"
Chapel flushes and clears her throat. "I-there's something that I-just you-right," she stammers and excuses herself to Bones's office.
Jim smirks and crosses her arms before she turns to look for Max. She finds him nosing around one of those hazardous disposable wastebaskets. She picks him up and carries him back to her biobed and settles on the edge.
Lt. Commander Hikaru Sulu makes his way into medbay. He's wearing the command gold, but his body is painted with streaks of purple soil, as well as his forehead and bits of his hair. He rubs the back of his neck with lavender dirt-caked fingers and an easy (but tired) grin as he stops before her. "Captain," he murmurs.
Jim frowns and studies him. He's not what she expected. She'd thought he'd be more-cocky. She heard Starfleet pilots usually were.
Sulu isn't though. He looks as meek and nonchalant as they come. He waits patiently for her response.
"You-uh, no one else has called me Captain. You're the first," Jim admits and cradles Max close as he wiggles happily in her arms.
The corner of Sulu's mouth kicks up a bit more and his eyes twinkle like he knows some kind of secret that Jim is yet to find out. "Well, that's what you are. I can call you Jim if that makes this whole thing easy. Mind if I sit?"
Jim blinks. Definitely not what she expected at all. "No. Knock yourself out," she mumbles.
Sulu snags a steel chair crammed in a corner and he drags it over. The legs screech unpleasantly against the linoleum and Jim winces. He tosses her an apologetic smile before he twirls it skillfully and straddles it backwards. He uncaps the top to his metal canteen and drinks it down.
Jim is unreasonably interested in him. Not like-not like how she is with Spock. But like in a way she is when she meets someone who feels kindred to her almost. Like long lost friends. Which is why she has to ask, "Are we dating?"
Sulu chokes and yanks his canteen away as he pounds a fist into his chest. "Chotto matte kudasai," he rasps delicately and Jim must have stupefied him so much that he clearly doesn't realize he just said that in Japanese. Then, surprisingly, he starts laughing, even though he's beet red, and he chokes out, "Just when I think I got a handle on you, you always kick me into a twister."
Jim snorts and tries to hide her smile into the top of Max's head.
Max ducks away and turns to lick her chin before clamoring out of her lap, onto the floor, before nosing his way around Sulu's ankles.
Sulu smiles in kind as his laughter dies down into soft chuckles. "Hey, Maximus," he calls and Max barks. "I've been wondering where you were."
"Apparently with someone named Scotty. We have joint custody or something," Jim explains and shrugs.
Sulu pats Max on his head affectionately before drawing his attention back to Jim with a grin. "To answer your question-no, we're not dating."
"I got that from the way you laughed," Jim says and smiles. "So tell me who I am dating."
Sulu huffs out a short laugh as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry, no can do. If no one's told you by this point, then I'm pretty sure there's a reason for it."
"A dumb reason. Not like it'll alter anything," Jim says with a sigh. She folds her hands together. "Thank you for saving me-and Nyota and Spock."
Sulu shakes his head modestly. "It wasn't just me. I only carried out my part very well." He waits a second before he adds, "Once upon a time you did something of the same for me."
"Did I?" Jim asks and she wonders about it. She almost asks, but then she remembers that there is a point to all of this and she swallows the question down. Instead she asks, "Do you like this ship?"
Sulu blinks slowly but he nods.
Jim fishes for the hidden PADD and offers it to him. "I can't wrap my head around how everything works these days. I was trying to find the blueprints for the ship but I couldn't figure out how to go about it. I'm curious."
Sulu takes the PADD and taps the screen. His fingers dance across the touchscreen with the kind of speed that Jim can barely manage herself. He does it with such natural confidence that Jim almost becomes envious. In the next minute, he pulls up a virtual display of the ship. "The documentation is private. It's got some heavy seals on it-only about a few others have the original blueprints, including the technological framework. Pasha has-I mean, Chekov, has a pass to them because Scotty gave them to him. He won't mind if we rifle through his."
Jim grins slowly. "So where are we right now?"
Sulu uses his pointer finger and thumb to zoom and says, "Deck Seven-or 'G' if we're going by alpha order."
"Cool," Jim says, schooling her expression very carefully. "Where's the infamous Captain's chair?"
Sulu grins and manipulates the virtual display before zooming in on the bridge.
Jim eyes the small chair, as well as the other stations before she lifts her fingers and pokes the miniature chair, unsurprised when her finger just fazes through the hologram. She pulls back and says, "Can I-"
"Yeah, here," Sulu relinquishes the PADD into her custody.
Jim greedily eyes the detailed graphic, manipulating it in the way Sulu just was and going to and fro from deck to deck, asking Sulu about every single one.
Sulu tells her, none the wiser about her real motives.
Jim kills the hologram when she notices Bones exiting his office with his tricorder. She shoves the PADD under the blankets and presses a finger to her lips as she winks at Sulu.
Sulu snorts but he jerks his chin in acknowledgement.
"Mr. Sulu, what brings you to my territory?" Bones asks as he goes about scanning Jim's chest, ignoring the way she bares her teeth at him in a mean grin.
"I was personally requested," Sulu explains. "Apparently our beloved Captain wanted to shake hands with the man who flew her out of that flytrap of a planet."
Bones is immediately suspicious. He stares down at Jim, who pretends not to notice. "Did she now? And she didn't try to maul you or run you off by unsavory means?"
Jim quietly rolls her eyes as she snaps her fingers and hits her thighs.
Max hops up into her lap and presents her with his stomach, which she rubs.
"Uh, no, I can't say that she has," Sulu says with a thoughtful frown. He looks to Jim. "I thought that was just a rumor."
"I have rumors about me?" Jim says, almost delightedly.
"You're the captain. Of course you do. You're like a celebrity to us," Sulu teases before standing. "I have to get going. I had some-well I don't know what it is yet, but we'll call it an experiment for now. I need to go check on it. You two have a good night."
Jim waves.
Bones grunts before he levels Jim with a searching stare. He says, "What are you up to?"
Jim meets his eyes with as much innocence as she can muster. "I don't know what you're talking about, old man. You're way too paranoid."
"No. I'm way to enlightened when it comes to you," Bones corrects before he lowers his tricorder (finally). "You ready to eat? I got no problem sticking you with a needle if you want to skip dinner."
"Since you mentioned it, I am hungry," Jim says. "How about spaghetti? I have a craving."
The scowl Bones gives her is so worth it. But for all his complaining about what a brat she is, he still marches off to get it, and not without leaving Chapel to chaperone her because he learned his lesson the first time around when she ran off.
Jim doesn't mind. She get's Chapel to tell her about all the visits she's made to medbay and Chapel rewards her with some very colorful stories. It's not until Chapel brings up a particular incident does something stand out. "Wait, say that again-I was gone for how long?"
"An hour. Leonard called it. Oh, but he was just so broken up about it," Chapel mindlessly rambles. "I never seen him so-"
"But I'd just come in about a food allergy," Jim points out with a severe frown. "Why would I die for a hour and then come back."
"One of God's mysteries, I suppose," Chapel reasons with an uncertain grin. "Listen, why don't we talk about something else? This is a bit gloomy."
"Yeah. Sure," Jim says distractedly. She's too busy wrapping her head around the fact that she was dead for an entire hour and somehow miraculously came back. There's something about it that nags at her. It's right there and yet she can get ahold of it at all.
Bones reappears with a tray full of food. "If you hawk this at me or pull any of your little tantrums, I'm sedating you," he warns as he gives it to her.
Jim gives him a toothy smile and accepts it graciously. She picks up the fork and makes a show of twirling a good amount of spaghetti on the teeth before shoving it in her mouth. She chews and makes ridiculous noises as she rubs her own stomach.
Bones snorts but he looks entirely too relieved to see her eat.
Jim says nothing when Bones and Chapel stand there and watch her take every bite of food. She clears the tray and hands it back. She flinches on minimally when Bones stabs her with a hypospray with what he claims is 'extra supplements' and he seems surprised that she doesn't react more than that. She excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and once there she locks the door and goes straight for the liquid soap dispenser.
She exhales slowly and shakes her hands as she gets to her knees before it. She closes her eyes and counts to five before she leans forward, stabs her finger into the sensor button and opens her mouth to swallow down the pink liquid soap. She gags a few times but she manages to swallow down a handful before she pushes away and rinses her mouth out to rid herself from the horrible taste. By the time she makes it back to her biobed, the medbay lights are dimmed low for bedtime and her stomach is sloshing uncomfortably.
Jim holds it down long enough for the medical staff to thin out into the swing shift crew, and when Bones and Chapel leave for the night, she kicks the covers off of her and kindly pukes all over the floor.
The two orderlies working scramble over to her immediately and try to help.
Jim groans and pretends to be delirious with her sickness as they help her to her feet. "Can you take me to the bathroom-I can't-I'm gonna-" She hiccups and gags dramatically.
The two orderlies carry her to the bathroom.
The woman moves to get a hand towel and wet it.
The man guides her to the toilet.
Jim fakes like she's dropping to her knees, but at the last minute she shoves him into the woman and they both go toppling onto the floor. She quickly exits the bathroom and quickly punches in a code that will keep them locked inside until someone manually pries open the door. She times herself as she replicates a black uniform for herself and changes into it. She then snags the stolen PADD from the bed and tucks it under an arm as she whistles for Max, who has been sleeping under the biobed the whole time.
Max darts over and bounces around her ankles with an eager yip.
Jim shushes him as they exit the medbay. She maneuvers her way down the corridor, shoving on a black ball cap hat so that it rides low enough that it doesn't draw attention. She keeps her head low as she stabs the call button for the turbolift. When it arrives, she climbs on with Max in tow, and says, "Lift to Hanger Bay Complex."
"Lift to Hanger Bay Complex," the computer chimes in tandem and the lift activates.
The Hanger Bay Complex is completely dead of any officers, which is exactly the reason why Jim chose it as her shelter for the night. She strides across the vast space and counts the shuttles before she picks the one she'll sleep in for the night. She climbs aboard and scavenges the utility compartments for a pillow and a blanket before she settles down on the floor to sleep.
Max curls up against her stomach.
888
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Jim wakes with a smile and stretches with content yawn before she grabs the stolen PADD and reads the notifications.
It looks like they've noticed she's gone missing and are trying to locate her.
Tough luck for them. Now they've got their hands full with some nasty little digital bugs that's going to make the ship's CPU mainframe go berserk with all sorts of nifty glitches.
Jim grins evilly and proudly as she thinks about it. All it ever takes is a good cybernetic infection. "Morning, you ass," she says.
"Good morning, Jim," the cleverbot responds. "Would you like a full appraisal?"
"Yes, please," Jim says as she sits up, startling Max in the process. She gives him an apologetic pat on the head and he settles down once more.
"The virus T103 has been triggered," the cleverbot reports. "Enterprise digital productivity is comprehensively restricted. All power grids are working to full capacity to provide electrical service, but all other functionality has been rendered inept."
"That's what I like to hear," Jim quips. "How's sickbay looking?"
"Standard. The subroutine has yet to activate," the cleverbot replies. "Would you like me to go ahead with the protocol?"
"Nah. Leave it. Let Bones have the honors," Jim says. "Give me a virtual display of the ship, and I want real time."
"Very well," the cleverbot complies.
Jim eyes the hologram of the ship and she zooms in on the bridge before she shuffles down to the engineering room. "Hey, you ass. What's the place with the most amount of activity?"
"Calculating," the cleverbot chimes. "Deck five where the main computer memory banks shows a fluctuating quantity of mobility."
Jim hums because that isn't surprising-what with the virus she'd introduced into the system. "What about the least amount?"
"Calculating," the cleverbot chimes. "Nanotech workshop ineffectuality indicates significant dormancy."
"Then that's where we're gonna go. I have theory about how to reach this 'God of Stars'," Jim says before she shuts the PADD off and stands. She swipes her hat from off the floor and tugs it on her head. She carefully exits the shuttle and keeps a watchful eye out.
The turbolifts have been suspended due to the virus, but Jim is only one level down from where she needs to get to so she finds some stairs and she climbs them until she maneuvers her way down the right corridor. She makes it to the nanotech workshop and it is blessedly empty.
She sits down at station littered with microchips and magnifying glasses. She kicks up her feet and turns on the PADD.
"How may I assist you, Jim?"
"Set up some proximity sensors. I don't want anyone sneaking up on me," Jim replies.
"Very well," says the cleverbot. "Proximity detectors armed at the ready."
"Awesome," Jim says as she swings lazily back and forth. "Now. Pull up as many results as you can in reference to cult religion. Confirm."
"Processing request," says the cleverbot. "Searching all available databanks on a universal scale."
"I'll wait," Jim says and does just that. It takes six minutes before the PADD pings.
"Confirmed," says the cleverbot. "Now displaying 700,000,000 results."
Jim uses her fingers to maneuver through the different templates of information. She frowns. "Too much."
"What shall we do?" responds the cleverbot.
"Reduce. Reassess. Recite." Jim wiggles her mouth thoughtfully. "Minimize the results by predominant focal points. Your trigger words are 'Witch Doctor' and 'God of Stars' and 'Death'. Confirm."
"Processing request," says the cleverbot. "Minimizing results." Then, "Confirmed. Now displaying 458,729 results with one correlating result entitled 'God of Lies'. This might interest you."
"Right you are," Jim verifies as she opens that template. She reads through it quickly before she grins. "Damn. I think you found exactly what I was looking for. Good job, you ass."
"My function is to serve, Jim," the cleverbot states flatly.
Jim snorts before she reads through the entire article. At the end of it, she asks, "Does this ship have any swimming pools?"
"Calculating," says the cleverbot. "There are six in the pool complex located on deck twenty."
"Perfect." Jim drops her feet to the floor and stands. "You up for a swim, Max?"
Max barks bemusedly.
Jim smiles sadly in return. She shoves the PADD under her armpit before she carefully maneuvers her way three levels down while keeping her head low and making herself as small as possible. She hopes this whole 'staying hidden in plain sight' thing works for her because she's going to be totally pissed if she gets caught.
She doesn't get caught.
Jim makes it to the pool complex and hacks her way inside with the help of her cleverbot. She says, "Lock it down. I don't want to be disturbed while I carry out this masochist plan of mine."
"Understood. Locking pool complex," says the cleverbot.
"Awesome. Now. I think I should address my devoted crew, don't you?" Jim kicks off her boots and tugs off her socks before she rolls up her sleeves to the elbow and her pants to the knee. She makes her way to the deep end (25ft) and sits on the edge, putting her feet in the chilled water.
"Jim, I have synchronized with the bridge view screen. Would you like to begin?" asks the cleverbot.
"I want to do a ship-wide address, you ass," Jim says and holds the PADD up higher so there is a clear view of her face. "And be sure to get my good side."
"Very well. Synchronizing to all vid screens ship-wide," says the cleverbot. "Confirmed. You are live in thirteen minutes and sixty seconds."
"Awesome," Jim replies flatly. She swings her feet lazily in the water and focuses on the low lighting and the smell of chlorine.
Max sniffs and noses his way along the edge of the entire pool, oblivious to the state of things.
888
It would appear that James Tiberius Kirk had a rebellious nature that would never be brought to heel, no matter the age.
This regrettable fact, although slightly intriguing in its complex intricacies, is one that Spock has now familiarized with in great capacity. Though he may never understand her ultimate motivation for most circumstances, he can appreciate that she is exceedingly skilled at conveying a message to those of whom she considers an adversary.
Take now, for instance-he stands in the main computer room with Mr. Scott, Mr. Chekov and all the best minds trained for the utmost minutiae of subspace computer science, and yet none of them (including himself) can decode Jim's rather systematic and mixt alphanumeric contagion. It remains unchallenged as it wreaks havoc on the Enterprise's internal sequencing and control unit, and in turn, it's positronic matrix.
Spock has come to anticipate with the Enterprise's new designs, which heavily relied on interactive voice commands, that such an attack could render them defenseless. Though that concern had been minor in light of the fact that they had one such as Jim within proximity to neutralize such an attack. It makes very little difference at present if said attack is from Jim.
Spock will have to communicate to Jim, once they are able to locate her, that flagrant gestures such as these are decidedly unwarranted. He slides his fingers across the screen of his PADD as he tries to root out the source of the virus, as well as the basic algorithm it derives from. He pulls up Jim's previous encryptions in an effort to identify any correlating factors that may be of use.
"The malware is amazing!" Chekov chirps, as he often does when he is appreciating a welcomed challenge. He is standing on the other side of the transparent view screen wall. His fingers are moving quickly as he enhances a maximized map of the integrated circuits of the Enterprise. The infected areas are colored a cautionary yellow while the virus itself is a merciless red. "Like the spider nest with the little baby hatchlings!"
Spock's brow furrows. "Mr. Chekov, though I can confirm the infective agent is unique in nature," he begins. "I cannot, however, ascertain your precise meaning."
"Ah, please don't mind the laddie, Commander. He's just drawing comparisons to the Black Widow's nest," Mr. Scott clarifies from where he's wedged into the gut of the CPU mainframe. He's juggling wires with a pair of protective goggles. These goggles make him look not unlike an insect himself.
If Jim were present, Spock would have called attention to this fact and she would have found it humorous before accusing him of having a sense of humor, which he would rightly deny. His frown draws deeper but he compartmentalizes the sentiment of 'yearning' and presses it aside to focus on the task at hand. He states, "I still fail to derive the logic in the comparisons."
"There's nothing to compare," Mr. Scott decides and grimaces as a decapitated wire sparks threateningly and he curses. "Just a bunch of talk on his part."
"No!" Mr. Chekov argues with a severe frown. "I am not talking the nonsense! Is true! Commander-the black widow consume male after mating. They feed on them as source of nutrients!"
"Mr. Chekov, are you suggesting that the corruptive code is-copulating with our processors?" Spock queries in efforts to understand.
"Well, not in the way you may think, but this is similar to what I have noted," Mr. Chekov reasons. He gestures for Spock to approach and Spock comes willingly. He points to one of the infected areas and continues, "I have noticed that the virus performs in something of same manner. It targets the area of intent before sticking like glue and webbing like nest. Where it then grows, multiplies, and spreads to other compartments."
Spock processes this information with fixed contemplation. "Mr. Chekov, you have raised a valid point. I urge you to continue with this applicable data."
Mr. Chekov smiles widely and proudly before he looks sternly at Mr. Scott. "See! I told you!"
"Ack, get on you," Mr. Scott replies and ignores them both as he shouts, "Keenser! If you're not over here with that sonic screwdriver in the next bloody second, I will find an airlock vent and dispatch you! And I'll make sure it's very wee!"
"This is ridiculous," Dr. McCoy complains, announcing himself as he ventures into the area. Though his complaints never offer any real merit, it does not stop him from sharing them nonetheless.
Spock has come to understand this. "I would debate that the current situation does not deserve nor invite derision or mockery, but I gather you will merely use another unseemly term," he remarks.
Dr. McCoy bristles, as expected, and snaps, "Can it, Spock! The last thing I need is grammar lessons from you." He turns his gaze towards the scrambling officers pressing and hitting their fingers against the peripheral devices. "How is it that a fourteen year old girl can do so much damage to one ship? And not just any ship, mind you-but the best one we've got in the Fleet!"
Spock is overcome with unwarranted pride at the thought, simply because this is Jim, his mate, t'hy'la-he sorts the feeling and supersedes it with logic. "Though you are right, Doctor," he states and does not cow under Dr. McCoy's glare. "It is unfeasible for a Terran female of fourteen years to manage such destruction. However, I will remind you that this is not 'some girl'. It is Jim."
Dr. McCoy's eyes darken at the remainder and he does not argue. "Yeah, well-it just makes this whole thing even more frustrating. I knew that damn brat was up to something. I should have stayed and kept my eye on her. She's so damn crafty, and very good at playing people."
Spock takes a moment to silently agree. He had expressed his willingness to remain with Jim during the duration of her stay in the convalescent ward, however, as her mood turned, he felt it best if he excused himself until a time better suited to her willingness to receive company. That had been an error of judgment.
"Maybe I should put out an APB," Dr. McCoy murmurs. "We need to find her."
"You're concern is noted, Doctor," Spock replies. "However, it will be impossible to-" Something occurs to him.
Dr. McCoy notes the uncharacteristic pause and his eyes flash with an indecipherable something.
Spock would not be so bold as to call it concern because the Doctor did not share such a sentiment for him.
Nevertheless, Dr. McCoy says, "What? What is it? You'll have to forgive me if I'm unsettled when you stop right in the middle of a lecture without someone cutting you off. What are you thinking?"
"Something you previously stated," Spock explains as his mind unfurls with new information. He pulls up a recent log of keystrokes, as well as voice activators. "Mr. Chekov, what is the approximate time the virus intermingled with the system?"
Mr. Chekov sticks the tip of his tongue into the corner of his mouth as he quickly orchestrates his hands over the interactive transparent screen with intent. "At exactly 0600 hours this morning, Commander."
"What other activity occurred at this time?"
Dr. McCoy offers, "Chapel would have started her shift in medbay. She was the first to find a few of our staff locked in the bathroom. It's possible she had someone try to locate Jim."
It becomes evident to Spock what galvanized the digitally vicious payload. "Jim has opted to utilize her own name as a triggering sequence. Mr. Chekov-root out where the source was initiated and see if you can determine the original algorithm."
"Aye, sir," Mr. Chekov chimes agreeably and get to work. "Almost-pochti-got it!"
Suddenly every vid screen whirrs to life and is filled with Jim's youthful countenance.
"There you are, brat," Dr. McCoy murmurs, but there is underlying relief in his gravelly tone.
Spock quickly studies Jim for any sign of injury, and when he finds none, he observes the background in an attempt to determine her location.
Jim smiles unseeingly at them all. "Good morning ship's company. I am so very sorry for all this trouble. Honestly, I didn't want it to have to come to this but, well, I have a deadline to meet and I can't have any of you getting in the way of that. Bones-I can't see you but stop scowling at me like that."
Dr. McCoy stiffens and his scowl falters before he huffs in amusement. "Kid, knows me too well."
"Indeed," Spock offhandedly agrees.
"Now, where was I?" Jim says and taps her chin. "Oh right. The whole turning the ship upside down thing. Yeah, sorry about that. The virus really isn't all that harmful. It's just to keep you out of my hair so I can do what I need to do. Since I wrote it in, it can be easily unmade, but only I know how. Though it wouldn't surprise me if my swarthy First Officer figured it out." Here, she adds a wink.
Spock finds that it marginally amuses him, but it does not deter him from deducing her whereabouts.
"Also, to the two orderlies who I locked in the bathroom-David and Kathryn-you have my sincerest apologies and I hope you don't hold it against future me when I get back to normal and whatever," Jim goes on to say. "But anyway, I know I've been a difficult person to be around and, you know, but um, I am really sorry. I-I'm only doing what I think is right. And-sometimes you just gotta go it alone. So this is me doing that. Hopefully I'll-" She stops suddenly and an array of emotions make war on her facial features. "Yeah. So. Kirk out."
The vid screens go blank.
Spock is justifiably concerned.
"Does anyone else feel like she's about to do something really foolish?" Nyota declares as she marches into the area with Mr. Sulu in tow. The two of them had made attempts to locate Jim themselves.
"This is Jim we're talking about," Dr. McCoy states wryly. "Of course she is. My concern is what."
"Yesterday she kept asking about the schematics of the ship," Mr. Sulu confesses. "I don't know if that helps."
"And what's this deadline she has to meet?" Nyota wonders aloud. "God, I wish I could just remember what happened to us on that planet."
"Indeed," Spock concurs. His mind turns and he says, "I believe I know her location."
They all turn and stare at him expectantly.
"The pool complex," Spock clarifies.
Dr. McCoy says, "Well what are we waiting for? Let's go grab the brat and shake some sense into her."
"I agree," Nyota says. "We've got to do some major damage control. When word gets back to Starfleet-" She shakes her head. "It wont be good."
"What are we going to do when Jim becomes herself again? What if she ends up like you two?" Mr. Sulu questions. "What if she doesn't remember what happened?"
"I suggest we tell her but we keep just one thing out," Dr. McCoy remarks with a significant look that Spock is unable to quantify.
"The powers she displayed," Nyota supplies knowingly.
"I must confess that I am worrying about that as well," Mr. Chekov states as he joins the group with Mr. Scott. "Is the same as with Mitchell and Dehner, yes?"
"No way of really knowing," Dr. McCoy admits. "Dehner and Mitchell conveniently always skipped out on their physicals, and who knows if their files are legit. There's no trusting it. I've run every test I can think of on Jim so far but I'm not seeing a thing that explains what happened."
"So maybe we should tell her," Mr. Sulu reasons. "Maybe keeping it a secret is the worse thing to do."
"Aye. You've a valid point there, but we cannae guarantee that telling her is the best thing either," Mr. Scott supposes. "Outside of our little group, no one knows, and no one should know."
Spock does not approve. "Vulcans cannot lie," he says, mainly addressing Dr. McCoy solely. "Furthermore, I do not think it would be wise to withhold such a pinnacle detail from her if it could potentially put her at risk."
"I'm not asking you to lie," Dr. McCoy snidely replies. "I'm just asking you to give me time to figure out what exactly it was that made her like that. I want to see if what happened to you all on that planet has something to do with it, or if the source of it occurred way before that. Let's just all watch her and see if she exhibits those abilities again, and if not, then we're in the clear."
"There are risks. It does have the potential to affect her career," Nyota points out. "I'd rather Dr. McCoy try to find answers than any of those white coats at Starfleet. They'd probably put her in a glass cell and treat her like a lab rat. I don't know about any of you but I won't stand idly by and let that happen. Jim is our friend and we should protect her at all costs. If we have to bend the truth a little about the situation until we get those answers, then I vote 'yes'."
Everyone nods in agreement but Spock is still uncertain by this course of action. Though, given that both Nyota and Dr. McCoy have raised valid points, perhaps he can concede to this one thing if only to keep Jim from harms way.
Perhaps.
888
Jim exhales as she stands on the edge of the diving board and stares down into the clear water below. Her heart is racing. This is crazy and it has the potential of failing epically, but honestly, she doesn't see any other way to do it.
If this 'God of Stars' is as great as she presumes he could be, then she has nothing to worry about. She continues to peer below and tries not to think about anything that will make her back out.
Jim spreads her arms and holds her hands out, spreading her fingers. She says, "So this is kind of weird and I don't really dig religion or anything but I can't really say what's waiting for me on the other side and-" She pauses to sigh again as she stares straight ahead. "I don't want to risk any bad mojo or anything. I'm not proud of all the things I've done in my life. I wish I was better. I always wish I was better. And I don't-I can't help that I fucked up. But I've been trying to do better and I know I can't save everyone but I'll try to give back everything I took. So to the 'God of Stars' or 'God of Lies' or whoever the hell you are-just, you know-don't be an asshole, okay? Don't let this be for nothing."
Silence greets her speech but she had expected that.
"Okay," Jim sighs and closes her eyes. She takes a step forward and lets herself fall. The chilled water of the pool encases her. She holds her breath as she begins to sink slowly to the bottom. The ceiling lights twinkle blurrily overhead when she blinks up at that them. There is a deafening silence that surrounds her as her feet touch the bottom of the pool and her ears pop uncomfortably from the pressure.
Air escapes in bubbles as Jim tries to hold her breath for as long as she can. The urge to inhale bites into her lungs and into her gut almost as sharply as a knife. It feels like something squeezing around her heart and as she floats, she can't help but to think that drowning is actually quite peaceful in its own way.
Jim inhales sharply when she can't stand it any longer and nothing but chlorine-infused water sinks into her mouth and into her lungs. She chokes and coughs, and is greeted by the sight of her own blood. It floats around her head before drifting up. Darkness eats away at the edge of her vision, and before she completely succumbs to it, she closes her eyes and silently hopes that if this doesn't work out, maybe, just maybe, she'll be reunited with her father.
The thought alone makes it easier for her to give herself over to death.
"Oh, ma petite chouchou," a voice tsks disapprovingly.
Jim squints as her body rises through mist and fog and up into the sunlight until she's standing on an endless cloud bank, feeling virtually weightless and having returned to her normal age.
She remembers everything.
Is this what death feels like?
A chuckle. "No, no, ma petite chouchou-if you were dead, you would surely know," a voice says through the mist. "Actually, I had to bargain with Death in order to arrange this little tête-à-tête. I imagined his intention was to scold you for going to such lengths to communicate with me."
Jim squints, but the burning light of the sun makes it impossible for her to see. "You being who exactly?" she asks, cupping a hand over her eyes.
There is another chuckle. "My, my. This is déjà vu all over again, is it not?"
Jim frowns and narrows her eyes, glancing to and fro trying to find a body to place with the voice.
There is a distinct sound of fingers snapping and the light dims substantially. "Now," the voice sighs. "Isn't that better?"
Jim blinks, dropping her hand, able to see for the first time. It is better. As the mist clears, she's able to make out the tall and lean man with auburn hair and dark blue eyes and a mischievous grin. "Okay-why are you naked?" she asks, taking a step back as he steps in closer. She glances down. "Why am I naked?" She puts and arm over her bare breasts while her other hand cups her privates. "Am I in hell? I went to hell didn't I?"
"Déjà vu indeed," the man says with humor. "This is neither heaven or hell."
"Oh wonderful," Jim mutters bitterly. "Purgatory then."
The man chuckles again, snapping his fingers once more, and suddenly she's in a flowing silver silk gown while he's in, what looks to be, a pure silk, black sherwani. "I am to understand you have a request for me?"
Jim fists the sides of her strapless silver silk gown and twists her head down to look at herself. "What the-how did you do that?" she asks looking up, and then blinking when she doesn't see him anymore. She twists around but he's nowhere in sight.
"There is no doing. There just is," the man explains, popping up out of nowhere and settling to Jim's immediate left.
Jim swallows down a startled yelp. She slowly turns a glare his way. "Please don't do that."
The man chuckles. "A thousand apologies. Please," he bows, hand outstretched as he cups hers and kisses the back of her hand. "My name is Q. Or God of Stars if you prefer."
"God of Lies is more like it. I heard you're a menace," Jim airily states, pulling her hand out of his grasp. "I'm starting to think that's tru-"
"We have met before, you do realize," Q rudely interjects with a cheery smile. "But I suppose you wouldn't realize since I am the very reason you do not."
Jim frowns. "Stop speaking in riddles. Are you willing to help me or not?"
"I am fond of you," Q merely replies. "Tell me your plight."
"I made a promise to the Great Mother," Jim begins to explain. "That I would free her from the captivity her last converts placed her in."
Q stares at her blankly. "I know of whom you speak. She is no Great Mother, nor is she a deity of any class. This monster consumes the heart of children to maintain its immortality. I do not tolerate such acts. It can rot where it lays."
"I couldn't agree more but a deal is a deal. I'll return to my younger form and be stuck that way if I don't fulfill my end of the bargain," Jim says. "I shouldn't have to tell you how really fucking inconvenient that is."
Q hums sympathetically. He begins to slowly circle her. "What you ask comes at a price. Are you willing to settle the debt?"
"Yes," Jim readily says.
Q smiles. "You are a funny little thing, ma petite chouchou," he comments. "Twenty years old and you still are as innocent as a child. So this is what I will do-I will relinquish the monster from its captivity and place her somewhere of my choosing. But to balance the scales, I'll restore the civilization it claimed to its former glory. All I ask of you is that you see to them. Do not let them fall to the destruction and ruin from time's past. Deal?"
Jim feels like there's a catch. But she has a deadline to meet so she says, "Deal."
"Excellent," Q quips. "I'll send you back and-"
"Wait," Jim rushes to say. "What did you mean before? When you said that we know each other."
Q's eyes twinkle mischievously. "There's a time and a place for such things. The day that I restore your memories of me is the very day that you will greet Death like an old friend. That day is soon at hand. I see dark magic at work in you, but this is all a part of the grand stage Fate is setting for you. There is a halo of importance hovering over your soul. You have work to do, James. Much work. You will restore the balance."
"What balance?" Jim asks in confusion.
Q smiles. "Genesis 17:16-'…and I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her.' Cannot the same be said of you? When a good man goes to war, demons flee. What happens when a good woman goes to war?"
Jim tries to decode his words. "What does that mea-"
"Farewell, ma petite chouchou," Q interjects. "Be safe. Be sensible. There are many who hold a lot of love for you. Utilize their loyalty. It will be a great help to you. "
Jim watches as Q disappears in a gleam of translucent stardust. The clouds spread under her feet and she's falling into a vacuum of light and space and time.
It's like being born again.
Chapter Eight
Author's Note: Most of ya'll don't never review, like, come on, and writing this stuff isn't easy. I deserve a little more than a one-word comments. Give me something to think about! Thanks for reading in any case.