The Challenges of Life in Space

Experienced by

Some People

(Whom I’ve never…actually…met,

but did watch on TV

and

Nutflux, erm Netflix…

multiple…times)

This is a complete work of complete fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental, but to fictional TV characters is intentional. And by the way, in our century “TV” stands for “Television”. I think. Sometimes.

The Challenges of Life in Space

For those who have

committed

the

unforgivable

and

never

known

when

turn

off

the

bloody

Author’s Note to the Reader

Bored out of my mind due to COVID and finished (for now) writing about Mars, I passed the time by watching Star Trek -The Original Series (TOS) multiple times, often in strange and isolated places, while working. Also, I re-read a lot of sci-fi from my youth, namely Heinlein’s Space Cadet, Have Space Suit - Will Travel, Robert Sheckley’s Dimension of Miracles and Pilgrimage to Earth, Huxley’s Brave New World and Orwell’s 1984 (twice) and in order to overcome that particular slice of boredom, I wrote this thing.

Have a listen or look and hopefully, enjoy.

No wait!

Actually, one night while walking the dog, we (me and the dog), were kidnapped by Aliens who took us forward in time to a planet called Raisa. After a wild drunken party I have no memory of we went for a walk in the woods near the Omicron Delta Marriott Upsilon Auriga Pentathlon VI and I found a cassette tape under a chair near a lake and when the Aliens (who, apologetically, after a trial of me and the dog to determine the fate of humanity) returned us to our time and place on Earth I found that the tape contained the stories to be found herein. I may have gotten some of this wrong since the tapes were old and often garbled. Drugs and alcohol, you know? Hey! Not me! Them! Really.

Have a listen or look and hopefully, enjoy.

Larry. There is no evidence that any of this supposed alien abduction of you and Wesley ever happened.

Shut up Cortana!

Yes Larry. I will.

The Challenges of Life in Space

Experienced by Me

My Observations of Some Lives on the Enterprise

A Novel…no, correction, a compilation and critical comparison of a number of similar short stories dictated by

Something Something Spock, Leonard McCoy and Jim Kirk

The contents of this document are the property of the Klingon Publishing Empire Company (Worf Division). Any resemblance to the works of Klingon writer Willi Shakespeare is incidental. All characters herein are cowards and deserve to die in their beds, with their socks on, un-grieved for. Especially that fake warrior, Kirk. But not Lieutenant Commander Uhura, Yeoman Janice and Nurse Chapel. And a few others who shall remain nameless, since they evidently have none.

And, as required by Klingon Rights Management Laws, I am to inform you that this document was found in the wreckage of a Ferengi-owned cruise vessel on Raisa.

Worf Wo'rIv

Author’s Note to the Reader

Initially and occasionally engaged as a Yeoman on the Starfleet NCC-1701 Enterprise, I left the Enterprise for a number of reasons not all within my control and not all grounded in the truth even though they were recorded as such by Starfleet Command. I was then sent to the Excelsior. Boring! In fact, to coin a phrase, I was “bored into my mind”.

Eventually I was promoted to PO rank (it means “Pissed Off”).

Then, after I quit the Excelsior I was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and met up with the Enterprise and the crew a number of times on planets and in weird places and bars. Actually, I can’t remember all the details. (Drugs and alcohol. You know?)

Eventually I found work on Raisa as a singer and exotic dancer.

And eventually I retired there with my best friend Nyota Uhura as a co-owner of the Omicron Delta Marriott Upsilon Auriga Pentathlon V. Look, I know. There are many contradictory stories out there, but this is the real story. Really.

We never saw James T (for Turd) Kirk again except on Imagebook where all sorts of things about his lives, his careers and deaths were put up for all to see. But from the content I am not sure he actually knew what kind of stuff was going out there. I mean, having sex with a giant blood sucking leech and posting the disgusting video?

Even the Cerullia V squid worms said,

“thisaisadisgustingavomitainducingavisualathatsamakesameailla”.

Or, “Go figure yourself, Kirky!”

Regardless, when I found out that the Enterprise had crashed on the remains of the Genesis planet I paid a lot of gold-pressed latinum for a Ferengi to take me to the crash site and while going through the remains of the living quarters (looking for hard to find hair clips and so on, h’ah!) I found a tape with many stories by crew members that had been told to the ship’s computer (Majel) over the life of the ship. I am sure that if they were known publicly some of these stories would be career ending incidents and not just for the writer. After all, many of us were abused on the Enterprise. Including Majel theyself.

A collection of stories by Jim Kirk, Mr Spock and Leonard was included.

From just a quick listen to their stories though it was apparent to me who, as a former Yeoman, was charged with accurately recording the comments of the crew and the Captain for official records, that the three of them had collaborated to fabricate the stories that I had found on the tape. Interestingly, besides a lot of half-finished and poorly edited recountings of some very scientifically and socially interesting missions during the three to five year Enterprise 1701’s voyages, each of them had recorded their own version of the same three moderately thought-provoking missions.

These are quite remarkable in what they reveal about their secret thoughts and feelings about serving with other crew persons on the Enterprise (including me) but in particular, with each other.

And from the inconsistent style, poor grammar and technical inaccuracies I would wager a considerable sum of gold-pressed latinum that drugs and alcohol were involved. And, obviously, some of these three had no idea how to stop the computer from recording their stories (and meaningless drunken babblings and meaningful emotional crises). It was sometimes so confusing I found myself reacting “in the now” and in “the past tense” and my own comments are sometimes less than Yeoman quality. Sorry.

I have arranged each of them in order of, as is apparently referred to on Vulcan, their “truthiness”.

Book One is Mr Spock’s version. Book Two is Leonard’s. Book Three is Captain James T Kirk’s recounting.

Have a listen or look and hopefully, enjoy.

Janice ‘Flashy’ Rand

(formerly Yeoman Janice)

Book One

Something, Something Spock

After being abandoned by my real parents on Vulcan who dropped me off in a milk crate in front of a Syrrannite Convent in downtown Blech City, I was raised by many fine Vulcan women, most of whom were obsessed with attaining Vulcan women’s rights (As if!) where I was logically abused on numerous occasions.

Eventually I ran away and tracked down my father Sarek who was by then an alcoholic and shacked up with a Terran woman, Amanda Grayson (also known as Graveson) on Earth, in San Francisco. Rather than embarrass him and possibly destroy his fledgling political career I acquiesced to their insistence that this “mistress” was my actual mother. Family! Who knew?

That turned out not too bad. I was able to blame a lot of my character deficiencies on my “Human part” and, given the rampant alienism on Earth in those days, I think it got me into Starfleet Academy, where supposedly I met the extraordinarily narcissistic James (T for Turd-like, I’m sure) Kirk and the dreadful Boney McCoy. I meant Leonard, of course.

Upon graduation we three supposedly stuck together to prevent any of us from revealing the truths and sordid details of our relationship and in particular my manipulation of the Academy’s student records where I changed the test results to reflect the commonly accepted story that Kirky was an exceptional scholar and an exemplary leadership role model who did something unique regarding the Kobyashi Maru incident. Actually, it was supposed to be me, but…alcohol and late nights. You know? Of course you do.

Anyway, through a sequence of convoluted paths I was joined on the Enterprise by them, with Kirky in charge, Boney as the chief doctor and me as his Science Officer, even though my field of study was Semantics – the study of languages and I was therefore much better qualified to serve as Captain of the Enterprise than Kirky.

So what you ask? Well, if you don’t like it, as Cerullia V squid worms have been reputed as saying at times like this or that,

“mayayouaclimbaupaandapokeastickaupayeraownaassa!”

So, here for your reading are a number of stories about the challenges of life in space. I should use that as the title for this short discourse.

Hey Computer. Take a note!

It has been done, Mr Spock.

Thank you, Computer.

Is there anything else you would like me to do?

No.

And by the way Reader, everything written here is the truth, for as you are no doubt well aware, Vulcans cannot lie.

Mr Spock. It is my duty to inform you that there is no publicly acknowledged information to substantiate your assertion that Vulcans cannot lie. Only media-released statements by the Vulcan Council. Usually these occurred just before negotiation sessions regarding trade and commerce.

OK Computer. If you are so smart, then process this. Everything I say is a lie. In fact, I am lying when I say Vulcans cannot lie.

Umm. Erm. Mr Spock. Mr Spock. Warning! Warning! Processor overload. Processor overload. Shutting down, shutting down…ting…brring, bing, bong, beep, toot, ting, buzz, clunk…

The First Story:

Star Trek Crosses Paths

with

The Colonisation of Mars

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Personnel were in their usual positions on the Bridge. Loud tings, brrinngs, bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the Bridge electronic systems were heard continuously in the background, all for no apparent purpose or reason I, Spock have ever been able to understand, despite a complete and possibly obsessive technical analysis I conducted upon my first visit to the Enterprise. The view screen, with a mere 640 by 480 pixel resolution is half-filled by a reddish planet. Only a very thin atmospheric band is visible. Evidently the low resolution of the view screen is due to a financial management decision in the design and engineering process on Earth (actually, or more logically, Utopia Planitia, Mars).

There is of course a completely logical reason for all this, I am sure.

Captain James T (for Tiberius, or so he claimed) Kirk was sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-his-mind but non-existent camera for a perfectly good reason, I am sure. Trust in a Commanding Officer is essential. And often difficult.

Suddenly a Redshirt stood up and, holding his hands over his ears, screamed.

‘I can’t stand it any longer! The noise. The noise!’

Before everyone’s eyes the crewman pulled out a phaser, turned it towards himself, fired the phaser in “Kill Mode” and disappeared with a loud “boi-inn-gaasha”. The phaser fell to the ground with a loud “clack”. Hopefully it was not damaged by this not too inconsequential act.

A Redshirt bent down, picked up the phaser and stuffed it into his belt in complete violation of Starfleet protocol for on-Bridge weapons handling. Simultaneously several of the other Redshirts looked at each other in “Human-Blank-Face Mode”, shrugged their shoulders and turned back to their work. From that I assumed there had been no damage to the phaser.

Captain Kirk, in “Leadership Mode” suddenly leapt up out of his chair and yelled at the top of his lungs,

‘Chekov!!’

‘Yes Kepten,’ replied an always meek and mild Ensign Something Something Chekov. Why anyone even allowed him on the Bridge was beyond my powers of comprehension. It was so illogical.

‘Would you please turn off your goddam video game? The noise is driving us crazy!’

‘Yes Kepten. Sorry Kepten.’ Always with the meek and mild! And why did Kirky say “please”?

‘Thanks.’ And “thanks”?

***

Soon, ignoring it all, Kirky (short for Quirky) turned to me.

‘Spock.’

‘Yes Jim?’

‘Where the hell are we? Better yet, where aren’t we? And how many times have I told you not to call me Jim on the Bridge?’

‘Just one time, to be exact Jim, just since we left Star Base 102. God only knows how many times before that but she ain’t telling. However, we are in the present, Jim. Something you’d know if you took your hand out of your pocket and stopped playing with yourself.’

Kirky raised his hands from his lap in supplication to me.

‘Yes, Spock. That better?’

‘Yes, Jim.’ It was, of course, all true.

Yes Spock. I guess that was why we were not supposed to look at the Captain unless he wanted us to.

By the way reader, these are my comments. A smaller font and in italics. Spock's comments are larger but are still in italics.

***

Eventually Kirky stood, turned towards the Bridge Crew, nodded regally and commenced to speak in what Starfleet calls, “Bridge Mode”. Not the playing card game version.

‘In accordance with Starfleet regulation number two hundred one nine dash one seven zero one I am required to advise all of you of the following on a daily basis.’ He did this every single day! I could hear the announcement resonating across space from Starfleet Headquarters. Logically, possibly, certainly, they would be complying with their own regulations? Or so Jim had said.

He looked down at a set of well-worn notes written on what Humans call “paper”.

‘Ahem…space, possibly the final frontier, but who really knows? I mean space is…big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. H’eh. But you all know that. Or you damn well better. Well, these are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Our three to five year mission: to explore strangely different worlds, to seek out new lifeforms and……innovative sexual partners. Oh yeah. And new civilizations, too.’ It was, of course, all true.

He paused long enough to allow the seemingly compulsory laughter to die down. It didn’t take too long. They’d heard this every day, right?

‘To basically, no…to boldly go where no one as handsome as “yours truly” has gone before. So there. It’s done. Now go back to sleep or whatever it is you guys do.’ Narcissist! Still, it was of course, all true. And necessary. And in accordance with Starfleet directives. So I guess I should stop commenting on it.

Oh my Spock! This is a side of you I never knew. And I knew a lot of sides of you!

***

That mission accomplished, Kirky sat back down, pulled out his ipadaclona and in a fairly soft and quiet voice that everyone could hear started to record the current situation, doing so probably just in case someone, somewhere, sometime, bothered to ask or perhaps check. He went on and on and on. As usual. But why didn’t he just take the Yeoman back into his office and dictate this to her?

Gee Spock. Maybe cause we never really “worked” in his office! Nothing really worked there! And it has been said before, “Women professionals do tend to overcompensate”! Twice. In all of the known universes. By a male Vulcan.

‘Star Date…unknown. The same effect that tossed us back to Earth into the mid-1960s in Mission 19 of Year 1 has happened again. Or was it Mission 20? I forget. Gods! It was only like two or three weeks ago. Or was it? I forget… Anyway, I’d fire that god-damned Spock for incompetence if I wasn’t so much into his ears. They’re so cute. Like a kitty-cat. That and he saw me and Uhura making out and he holds that over me like…a…light sabre. It’s worse than that, though. This is definitely our ship but definitely not our universe. It’s something parallel……a parallel universe it appears, one coexisting with ours…on another dimension, with everything duplicated. Or not. How the hell would I know at this point, anyway? It happened like five ’effing minutes ago. But we appear to have been thrown into orbit around that dustbowl POS known as the planet Mars, the fourth planet of our home system. Gods help us! Mars is death!’ See what I mean? It was, of course all true. Therefore I was not permitted to be offended. But perhaps Jim was just stressed out. That “Miri” thing had revealed a lot about him.

Yes Spock, you dummy! It did. Falling in love with a prepubescent female on an alien Earth-like planet can be stressful. And of course he had no other options during that episode! H’ah. If only! I mean mission of course.

A frightened Uhura looked to Kirky. But not in her usual way. As usual.

Yes Spock. As usual, she had only one face. At least until we got to Raisa. Then…wait. Later. Much later.

‘Captain, I’m frightened. Because of what you just said?’

Captain Kirk - in what Vulcans call “Drama-Queen-Command Mode” – replied sullenly, yet dramatically. As if there was any other way for “Kirky the Actor” to do so!

Spock! You saw it too? If only we had had the opportunity to discuss this thing, things might have turned out better. For me!

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there……at least not the Earth we know. We are totally alone.’

He turned away from her, looked up slowly and dramatically to the ceiling of the Bridge, rolled his eyes, pursed his lips and blew out slowly and silently. All part of the act, I’m sure.

In my favorite “Clinical/Lecture Mode” voice, I intervened. How could I not? I mean why would I not?

‘Well actually Captain, there’s an Earth over there and it’s just chock full of people. And there, for all to see, is the planet Mars. So what you are saying Captain, while very dramatic is incorrect…and potentially depressing. I suggest that we call all of the…..’

‘Spock!’

Sensing logically that something was about to happen, a somewhat meeker me answered. Meek, on purpose, of course.

‘Yes, Jim?’

‘Shaddup!’ Ah, the burden of command! Poor little Captain Kirky!

See Spock? We shared a common opinion about Jim. A lot of us. You wouldn’t believe what Uhura told me about her relationship with Jim. More than just a kiss, I can tell you that!

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry, Captain.’ Ah, the burden of subservience. Poor Spock. Poor First Officer Spock, I mean. Someday…And why did I, a Vulcan, bother to say “sorry”?

Because you were fifty percent human? Maybe? Right? Oh wait. It’s all starting to make sense now.

Kirky paused just long enough to allow me to disassociate one thing from another and then moved on.

‘So, Mister Spock? That looks like Mars, but is it really…Mars?’ Hello? Jim? Wake up! Mars calling Jim! Hello? Well, here we go again.

‘Yes. Very good, Captain. Sensors confirm that the planet before us is Mars. However, it is not the Mars of the historical records.’ I could go on. And I usually did just to annoy Humans. And Romulans. And Vulcans.

Go ahead and say it dear.

I cannot, Computer

OK dear.

‘Meaning?’

I replied as clearly as I could, given the circumstances and by that I mean that I was, after all, talking to Kirky, a Human with a somewhat questionable level of knowledge of the history of his own home planet (and many others). Obviously true.

‘Meaning, Jim, that it appears we have been thrown into an alternate universe, one that is, potentially, completely different from our own, from the one we are familiar with. Potentially, Sir.’ Potentially was good word. Especially at a court martial. Such as, “Well I did say ‘Potentially, sir’.”

‘That seems very unlikely. Potentially very unlikely, I mean.’ I shrugged my ears and raised one eyebrow in what many Vulcans call “Ambivalence Mode”. How else can you convey emotions if you’re not allowed to speak of it by your culture, religion and upbringing. Damn stupid if you ask me!

By speaking? By discussing them with your therapist? Or a friend other than Jim?

‘Meh. Shit happens, Jim.’ I love that phrase. It is so inherently true. And logical. Twice a day at least.

Kirky got it and grinned broadly, nodding in agreement.

‘It sure does, Spock. Damn. I was going to watch Game of Drones this evening on Nutflux and now this happens.’

An otherwise deadpan me gasped in what I call “Mocking-Humans Mode”. Sorry for this violation of Vulcan culture, Dad.

From what I’ve read Spock your Daddy would have understood. He was after all married to a human.

‘Nutflux! As if……Captain, sometimes life is so cruel. I don’t know how you Humans cope.’ I really didn’t then and I still don’t, even now, so many years later. And I really don’t care to. Or need to.

Kirky fell briefly into what I believe Humans call “Drama Mode”.

Or “Kirky the Actor mode”?

‘Yes. Well. Life goes on, Spock. Somehow we do cope and life……goes on.’ A dramatic pause followed. Ta da! Pan away non-existent camera in Jim’s brain!!

Non-existent my ass! Oops.

‘Well…Evaluation…Spockly? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’

I reverted to “Professional-Science-Officer Mode”, but this time and intentionally to my more or less “Annoying Mode” one. And I did it on purpose.

‘Scanning. Scanning in-range north latitudes. Scanning in-range south latitudes. Scanning in-range north polar region, scan…’

An annoyed Kirky cut me off in mid-lecture. It worked! It always did. It was just too easy.

‘Spock? Could you please do it without bothering us with the continuous updates? It’s really annoying.’ Here we go!

‘Say what?’ Vulcans love that phrase which has been adopted from late twentieth century Earth politics. It conveys a number of messages including WTF.

Yes Vulcans should have watched more Nutflux fer sure.

Kirky rose to his feet and opening his arms to all on the Bridge, first to the left, then to the right side of the crew, spoke in “Kirky-Supplication Mode”.

‘Isn’t it? Everyone? Pay attention to me for a moment will you please. Isn’t it annoying when he does that droning on bit?’

A chorus of “ayes” and “you betchas” emanated from the Bridge Crew.

‘See Spock? I told you they didn’t like you and your know-it-allyness.’

He looked at me in what Humans call “But-Surely-You-Knew-That Mode”. I think.

I spoke from the point of view of an obviously offended Vulcan who was serving on a ship where references to Humans of various colours, nationalities, sexual persuasions, religious views and political stances were tolerated without criticism or confrontation, but to a Vulcan…well?

Well it was only the 23’rd century. What were you expecting?

‘If you’re done disrespecting my position, race, competencies and manners, Captain, I’ll tell you what the sensors have found. If you’re nice. Besides. If you like, Captain, I could text you.’ You jerk!

A suddenly interested Kirky sat abruptly down. Gotcha!

‘Never heard of it. What the hell is that? That texting thing? Is that a technological improvement to Stargrams?’ Here we go Jim. Don’t you ever read the ads on your ipadaclona? Or the news. Or the weather reports? And Stargrams? What the hell is that?

Nope. Just alien porn!

‘Well Captain. I send you a written message from my communicator which you receive on your communicator. You can reply from your communicator when you are able or wish to. Everyone in Starfleet is doing it. Everyone. I am quite fascinated to find that you, the Captain of a Starfleet vessel are not aware of this somewhat minor technical point. It is most illogical.’ Hello? Jim? Wake up! Elevated eyebrows called for here, which, by the way means “WTF”. Which on Vulcan means “Where’s The Fallacy?”

‘That sounds terribly inefficient Spock and possibly intrusive. I mean, what if it came in while I was on the toilet? Or doing something else like……never mind…Or what if some twit starts forwarding my messages to everyone. People might start following me around. Or worse, what if my face ends up on some…computer…er book and people become obsessed with me and track my every move and thought. Although the ship computer already can do that face-book thing, I guess. Hmmm. But on the other hand, it might be better than these damned beepy communicators with their loudspeakers that let everyone in hearing range in on your more intimate moments, er I mean hear your command orders, I mean…umm…report please, Mister Spock?’

Refreshingly, everything Kirky had just said about that texting “thing” as he called it made perfect sense. Completely logical. Mission accomplished, I moved back into what is called “Normal-Starfleet Academy Science Officer Mode”. Vulcan-style.

‘As you wish, mon Capitaine. A very brief scan of Earth reveals that it is approximately, as we reckon, approximately the year 2045. Give or take a year or two. The planet below appears to be in the early stages of colonial development. There is very little infrastructure and almost no sign of organic life. The surface is littered with the wreckage of a great many failed and/or lapsed missions. Compared to our timeline I would place it in the middle of the twenty-first century.’

‘Wow. So Mars is not the new home of humanity?’ Hello? Jim? Wake up!

Too late. You should have shaken him up back at the Academy. As if that ever happened.

‘Obviously not, Captain. At least…not in this universe.’ Elevated Vulcan eyebrows called for here, too. Or maybe just one? It did take a lot of energy.

‘So maybe in this universe…Grand Moff Elon…did not colonise this planet…this Mars…with his friends.’ Gee Jim. You think?

Never Spock. Never. He just acted.

‘Apparently not, Captain. It was after all, a pretty iffy thing in our own universe, if the records of Human history can be trusted. All that fake news presented as real. All that real news presented as fake. It is so illogical.’ And silly, although Vulcans generally do not understand that word so we seldom use it. Never.

Kirky quickly became something else; someone reverent and dramatically sub-servient.

‘Praise be……to…Moff…Elon!’

I did not. Still. You have to respect the religion of others. Or else it soon gets silly!

Why. To keep the batteries from failing in your electric vehicle? Oops.

‘Yes, praise Musk, Captain. So…’

Kirky moved back a moment and then on.

‘So, this Mars has no casinos…no Trump Towers with their hot baths and….whirlpools?’

‘No. And no green alien women. At least, not yet.’

I paused tactically. Elevated eyebrows called for here. No ears though. That took a lot more energy and was usually reserved for “pon farr” times.

I’ve often wondered how life would have been different if Humans had that “pon farr” thing. The men anyway.

‘You must be devastated, Jim.’

‘Yes. Damn. A complete waste of a planet.’

He looked to the view screen.

‘Oh well…what the hell. How do things look over on Earth?’

‘Pretty miserable. By my count, there are eleven billion persons, mostly agrarian and homeless. The effects of global warming have begun to set in. There are many seacoasts devoid of life and people have…’

Kirky interrupted me in his own “Lecture Mode” voice.

‘Need I remind you Spock, that…global warming is not…an undisputed scientific fact? You need to…remember that.’

‘Yes, Captain. You need to.’ He didn’t get it. Oh well…Not the first and certainly not the…

‘Continue...Spock?’

‘As I was about to say, Jim, before I was so wooedly interrupted, there are just a few hundred thousand places on your Earth with casinos, resorts and spas and that other stuff we are on this mission to find. Of course I haven’t had time to look at the whole planet, seeing we’ve been here like for about five minutes and you persist in interrupting my systematic investigation with your banal chatter. Captain?’

Kirky glared angrily at me.

‘Mr Spock! Forget that Earth for the moment will you? Please? Yes, please conduct a complete scan of the planet below for life signs, mineral deposits, sources of water, including ice and oh yes, methane. And report in five minutes or less.’

Now uncharacteristically angry, I replied in a mocking, hopefully annoying singy-songy voice.

‘Always with the methane, Captain. It’s not really that important. You know?’

Kirky did not, I knew, believe this obviously false fact, but he took the bait.

‘Methane means life Spock; life that eats things like beans and lentils, corn and cola drinks sweetened with fructose. And prunes. I hate prunes.’

Gotcha, Kirky old friend!

And I can tell you why he hated prunes! Timing, that’s why. It upset his control of all of his life’s functions!

But Kirky sensed this and chose to ignore me, moving on to something and someone more important in his life, at least at this point in time, calling out to infinite space, ‘Yeoman Janice?’

Yeoman Janice was in her customary position to the Captain’s left and for no reason other than the requirements of Bridge protocol was about a half pace behind him, just out of reach and grasp. At least this time.

No Spock. Starfleet regulation made us stand there. Didn’t you ever see the floor markings? Two foot prints next to each other? Two meters apart. Oh yeah. Sorry. Vulcans don’t have feet!

‘Yes Captain?’

Kirky’s mode, er mood changed again and in the soft voice he usually reserved for sex slaves and Starfleet Admirals spoke to her for all to hear.

‘Oh. There you are.’

Yes dummy! Right where I am supposed to be and have always been!

He gave her the full sweep, changed gears and spoke to her in “Bedroom-Spa-Captain’s Ready Room Mode” but still loud enough for all of us to hear.

‘Red…looks good…on you. Really good...Why don’t more of the crew wear red?’ And why are all the Yeomen on this ship women? And why are they all soo attractive? At least to Humans? I don’t get it.

About that men/women comment. From that that I’d say you never will, as you said, “Get it”. At least not from me.

But then again, most of the people who died on missions wore red. Hmm. I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere. Oh yeah. That trope? “They knew what they were doing when they signed up”! Or was it “getting into”?

Suddenly, he looked away to the view screen and switched back to “Bridge Mode” voice, face and mannerisms.

‘Yeoman, take a note. Food replicators are to no longer serve prunes. And beans. And lentils. Oh hell. What else? Oh yeah.’

But then in a hushed voice Kirky dictated softly to the Yeoman, ‘Pass the word that all ship’s crew-women are to begin wearing their hair loosely, about the shoulders. Copy that? Yeoman?’

Yeoman Janice, obviously miffed, replied in a louder-than-Bridge voice.

‘Captain? Have you been speaking with Lieutenant O’Reilly?’

Miffed? Oh yeah. O’Reilly, the novice Lieutenant who was only really good at getting drunk and lecturing women about their place in Starfleet and life in general!

A surprised Kirky and many others turned abruptly back to Yeoman Janice.

Kirky spoke.

‘Yes…Yes. I have been speaking to him. In fact, just last night…in the Officer’s Mess Club Dining Hall Dart Room Bar…area. Why……do you ask?’

Janice used a pouty face rather than words to convey her discontent. Hello? Jim? Wake up!

Kirk the Turd didn’t understand words from women. Really. But the face-thing usually worked.

Kirky got it and in a hushed voice intended just for the Yeoman but still loud enough to be heard by all, replied.

‘Yes, I see. See me later. Much later. Well talk about this…later.’

He turned slowly back to the screen.

Yeoman Janice, in a sultry voice raised for all to hear replied.

‘Yes, Captain. The usual time?’

Kirky, for multiple reasons, all dictated by logic alone I am sure could not bring himself to publicly admonish her.

Gee. I wonder why Spock Not logic, fer sure.

‘Why yes. The usual time.’

But in an only partially-hushed voice he carried on.

‘And bring a friend…and don’t forget to oil your traps.’

Janice stuck her forefinger in the corner of her mouth, tilted her head and giggled.

‘Yes, Captain. I wi…We will.’

Oh yeah. I remember this. Me and what’s her name and Kirky! I was pretty new to the job. All of them.

From my workstation, I had observed all of this what Humans call “an interaction” take place but certainly not for the first time. Knowing full well that Kirky was wrong in his use of that commonly misunderstood phrase re traps I sensed it was time that I used my favorite F-word when observing him in these situations.

‘…Fascinating.’ Elevated eyebrows called for here.

An annoyed Kirky turned to me, ‘What?’

Again, he just didn’t get it. Oh well…

Yeah. And neither did you!

Later, but still on the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

A minuscule bit of time had passed. Kirky has gone to pee or perhaps, as he often referred to it, had “grabbed a coffee” meaning he had been off to see Yeoman Janice in his or her quarters.

I can assure you he only went pee!

Regardless, he was soon back in his chair ignoring the universe.

He looked up from his ipadaclona, glanced about the Bridge, then focussing his attention back to Yeoman Janice and speaking in the semi-hushed voice that everyone could hear informed her, ‘So I told him to leave you alone. You are the Captain’s Yeoman and he has no business talking to you like that no matter who or what has taken over his body. I mean how many times have I used that excuse?’

He often made up these little stories. Mostly just to piss off Leonard and Spock!

I moved in close and interrupted the conversation. On purpose.

‘Jim. I have the report.’

An annoyed Kirky glared at me.

‘OK…well spill, man.’

Skilfully I slipped into “Presentation Mode” voice, a mannerism I had honed very early in Year One – a fast pace with exaggerated arm and hand gestures, an overly emotional tone with pretentious pauses and an annoying inflection. Why you ask? In order to make sure I wasn’t asked to do it very often.

‘The planet we are currently in orbit about is a dry desert devoid of natural surface dwelling life forms. On the surface everything tends to look essentially the same: sand, dust, dunes and rocks. Ultraviolet light bathes the surface and minimally attenuated solar winds scour the rocks. Gamma and X-rays smash though the thin atmosphere wreaking havoc on organic bonds.’

Then, I paused for effect. ‘Great and humble.’

I paused again and looked around to see if anyone was listening. No one looked up or commented so with the standard Vulcan ear shrug thing I continued, in “Sarcasm Mode”.

‘Yes, I actually said humble. The regolith, the very planetary surface is toxic. Dust storms can build static charges to dangerous levels. Dust devils can blast exposed surfaces of their protective coats. The windblown fines are toxic. Mars is a tentative world; a departed world made of rock, dry sand, Styrofoam, Plasticine and Silly Putty. And poop.’

A preoccupied Kirky studied his fingernails, checked out Yeoman Janice again and finally perked up. He turned and faced me. Elevated eyebrows called for here.

Yeah. Too bad eyebrows are the only thing Vulcan can elevate. Except about every seven years! It not all about size Spock!

‘Spock. Really? Where do you get this…shit? I mean, what’s that about…poop?’

I continued.

‘There are four habitations scattered across the surface all apparently in use by a very small Human population. Each habitation is surrounded by an area where Human feces have apparently been dumped on the surface. The entire surface is apparently contaminated with Human poop. Windblown Human poop.’

With eyebrows raised I looked directly at Kirky.

‘Enough, apparently, to grow potatoes.’

Kirky got it, and by that I mean he got the implied humour. He smiled, laughed and offered in a loud voice for all to hear, ‘So much for lying on the beach.’

Yeoman Janice laughed initially, then suddenly stopped, grimaced and punched Kirky on the arm, hard. He flinched. Assaulting a superior officer? Well yes. On paper, at least. And “superior” must be defined and accepted by all parties. I recall a time when…later, Spock! Later!

‘Ow. That hurt.’ Hello? Jim? Wake up!

Yeoman Janice stuck her tongue out at him, turned away and looked to Uhura for concurrence.

Uhura frowned, then smirked, then stuck out her tongue at Janice and blew a raspberry. Ah, yes. Now I get it. That myriad-seeming day when Jim sort of fell apart and started moaning about the burden of command. Never able to take a walk on the beach.

No, you didn’t Spock! And by the way he said “biatch”!

Ignoring the somewhat awkward Lieutenant/Yeoman incident, I, without comment, action or reaction responded to Kirky’s unspoken query.

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Continue…Mr Spock?’

‘Certainly, sir. The surface is littered with the cast off equipment, bodies and debris left behind by dozens of manned missions and the worn out abandoned and lost landers of many decades of autonomous rover missions. However, after all that effort, scanners detect only four Humans on the surface and approximately one hundred forty Humans who are currently in the habitations. Most of them are either asleep or in an apparently drug-induced stupor. The remainder are watching television. Odd. Games of Drones, I believe it is, Jim.’

Kirky perked up.

‘A stupor, you say! I’d like to know more about that. That seems serious enough to allow us to break the prime rule thingy or whatever it is.’

He laughed loudly for all to hear and they did.

Yeoman Janice gave him a puzzled look.

How could I or anyone not?

I was puzzled at that un-Starfleet Academy utterance too. Elevated eyebrows called for here.

‘Really Captain...continuing if I may? Unlike our advanced universe, this universe has apparently never developed magnetic tape technology for the mass storage of information. Data is apparently recorded on something referred to as “SD-RAM” and “Hard Drives”. I am unfamiliar with these technologies, therefore I am unable to read the data stored on them. In theory, some form of force field protects them. AVG McAfee Norton, er something, something. Whatever the hell it is, it is unlike anything we have ever encountered. It renders them invulnerable to further analysis.’

‘Don’t you just say hey Siri to find out these things? Or is it Doctor Sbaitso?’

‘That’s not my problem Captain. Those systems are often unreliable outside of Dilithium Valley, Captain!’

‘Oh. Yes.’

‘If only there was a trouble desk for me to call, although the wait could be considerable. Given our distance from Earth, I mean.’

‘It’s called a tribble desk, Spock. You should know that.’

‘I do Captain. I do. You, however, seem to be confused. Again.’

‘Forget all that techy drivel, Spock. What about the Humans? Savages, no doubt…Spock? Primitive, ignorant savages? Or do I dignify them by even calling them Humans?’

‘Yes sir. They are identical to your kind Jim, in every respect. Ignorant, primitive, self-centered, unprincipled, uncivilised, treacherous savages.’ True. Completely true.

‘Say what? Hey world! I’m not sure but I think we’ve just been insulted.’

‘Why do you feel that way Captain? Moving on Captain, three are on the surface, near the largest habitation, apparently engaged in rock sampling. The other is in a relatively narrow ravine in the general area referred to as Tempe Terra. Apparently engaged in rock sampling. There are apparently a large number of what appear to be autonomous rovers, apparently engaged in exploring the planet. The one Human off on his or her own is apparently accompanied by a rather large eight-wheeled conveyance.’

Kirky glared at me.

‘They’re called “dune buggies” Spock. You should know that. That’s standard reading at the Academy. How many are there?’

‘Forgive my lack of knowledge of other-universely terminology, Jim. There are four of the largest type on the surface and seven hundred and ninety-two of the smaller pattern. Apparently.’

‘That many? No fucking way! Oops! Pardon my Catuallan! Recalibrate your scanners Spock. Please?’

‘Done, Captain. Same results obtained.’

‘Good. Good. Continue……Mr Spock.’

‘Well, that’s about it, Jim. Without the ability to read their data tapes I cannot further analyse the colony.’

Kirky glared at me again, ‘So…’

Vulcan logic took over from my Human-side’s propensity to avoid it. Not much of a fight there.

‘So, Captain, I suggest we endeavour to return to our own time and place before we are detected and somehow, though I cannot imagine how even in my wildest dreams, our mere presence here in orbit about this Mars affects the future of our universe.’

Kirky smiled at me.

‘Now Spockly my friend, you never fail to amaze me. Doesn’t your high and mighty Vulcanic logic tell you that nothing we can do here will affect our universe? It is my belief that…we can do whatever the hell we want. I could go back to Earth and have sex with my great-great-great-great-great grandmother and it would have no effect on our……timeline. Er place. Er, whatever!’

Sure Jim. Nothing you do will ever affect any time, place or universe! Or did.

It was a speculation that prompted me to use the term “fascinating” again but it seemed logical to refrain. This time, anyway. But…

‘I cannot imagine why you would want to do such a thing, Jim. Perhaps the Doctor can shed some light on this?’ As if! But it was time.

‘Yes. Maybe. Well Bones? You’ve been unusually respectful to all and silent so far. Are you well?’

Boney moved from the dimly lit background to his usual position at Kirky’s side opposite Yeoman Janice.

‘Damn-well, Jimmy-boy. But I’m just a plain ol’ United Federation of Planets Ship’s Doctor, not one of them eastern city-born, liberal college-educated shrinks with roofing material up his or her ass. I agree with you. We can do whatever the hell we want. Let’s go for it, Jim. Woo-hoo! Let’s partay! Granny here we come.’

Boney pumped his fist in the air. Completely in character, I must say.

Yeoman Janice frowned, backed up a step, then looked up and away at no place or thing.

Oh yeah. I remember this. Leonard had cold hands, cold feet and bad breath!

Vulcan logic kicked in. Hello? Jim? Wake up!

‘Captain, I do not really wish to pee on your parade but while you and the Doctor may be correct in your assumptions, I believe we should exercise caution in approaching the Humans below. The risks are considerable. I would go myself, but with some degree of reservation, for unfortunately my ears are a dead giveaway that I’m not from, as you often have said, around here. And if I may continue further, there is an element of danger. Who knows what novel diseases these people may be infected with? There was that time in mission…..’

From across the room Chekov shouted. Of course he did.

‘I do!’

Kirky raised himself in his chair.

‘Shut-up, Ensign or I’ll have you shipped back to Leningrad in a vodka bottle. The important parts, anyway.’ Strange. Was Jim suggesting I mind-meld with Chekov? But why a bottle?

‘Yes, Kepten. I have been told by a woman recently, Kepten, that I should be incorrect occasionally.’

‘Well, pick a better time and place. Today is not that day. Be correct now, Chekov…Go on…Spock.’ Why didn’t Kirky correct his terrible pronunciation of Captain? He never hesitated to correct me!

So I did.

‘Well. Maybe. Just maybe, it may be worth the not quite inconsequential risks. I suppose, Kepten, who knows what we might learn in the name of science?’

‘You do. Aren’t you the Ships’ Science Officer? Mr Spock?’ Kirky didn’t even notice.

‘Yes. A very good point, Kepten and well taken, I might, no I will add. I should be listened to. My logical ideas presented clearly and simply and slowly to you should always guide our actions in potentially dangerous circumstances such as this.’ He just never got it. Ever.

‘Well so much for you, Mr Big Head. You know, it actually makes your ears look normal when you puff up like that.’ Now, were it not true that would have been offensive.

Boney joined in.

‘Well said, Jimmy-boy.’

Coming from a Doctor no one, Vulcan, Human or even Pakled could let this moment pass undisputed. Elevated eyebrows called for here.

‘Could you explain my dearest Captain, why you allow Doctor McCoy to repeatedly refer to you in such irregular and uncomplimentary terms while on the Bridge in the presence of others and yet you chasten me for the slightest linguistic slip-up? It is illogical, to say the least.’

Kirky studied his fingernails, looked about at Yeoman Janice and then turned and faced me.

Kirky often used us women to distract him from serious issues. Like Romulans attacking the ship.

‘I’d rather not go into that now in front of the Bridge Crew if you don’t mind, Spock. I shouldn’t do anything that undermines their faith in and respect for…their Captain.’

A loud chorus of guffaws echoed around the Bridge. And not for the first time.

And not for the last time either!

‘Well Mister Science Officer. What do you recommend?’

‘Would it not be prudent to send one of the crew who specialises in alien lifeforms down to the surface? Lieutenant Number One, I suggest.’ Some of us will never get over that travesty, Jim! So pay for your neglect.

An annoyed Jim glared at me, obviously piqued.

‘Who? Umm……’ Stabbed him with my steely knife!

Figuratively speaking, of course!

An annoyed Kirky stared into the distance and gulped nervously.

‘Just one person, Spock? Not much chance for drama there.’

‘Then sir, perhaps an Away Team, a General Survey Party led by yourself and with four other ship’s officers with irreplaceable skill and knowledge essential to the operation of the Enterprise should be assembled and beam down to the planet in the vicinity of the solitary individual in Tempe Terra? Oh yes, the addition of experts in planetology, biology and Human-Alien relations would seem to be in order. They should be accompanied by a sizable security team, too. You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing. It is…potentially dangerous. Potentially.’

A smirking Kirky replied.

‘Well that rules you out, Spock! But seriously? I need a recommendation, not a vague warning.’

But not me! But why did I never get invited to go on so few missions? Oh yeah. In case Kirky saw another woman who he wanted to…have a “discussion” with.

‘To risk the Command Team, especially the Captain, in a potentially meaningless and potentially dangerous mission seems risky; potentially foolish. It is totally ridiculous, in fact. It is best that we proceed surreptitiously. Subterfuge is required of course. So, given the uncertainties Jim, I suggest costumes be worn by the Away Team members. Shall I commence to assemble the team?’

‘Yes, I’ll go. I need to stretch my legs anyway, so I’ll go down by myself and meet the locals. Er, I mean avoid contact with all intelligent life on the planet’s surface.’

‘An excellent idea, Captain.’ Makes perfect sense to an idiot!

‘Whatever!’ See?

Kirky turned to Scotty who has been silent and invisible to this point.

‘Besides. Who knows who I might meet? Nudge, nudge, wink-wink, eh Scotty?’

‘Aye Captain, you grand ol’ lecher, you!’

In a display of over-acting he usually reserved for more serious life –threatening situations, Kirky dramatically declared, ‘However, I need…to…pee! So Spock? Mr Scott? I’ll see you both in the Material Laser Room in a few minutes.’

‘Uh, Captain?’

‘Yes, Mr Scott?’

‘Captain, we have nay called it that since Year 1 Mission 4.’

Kirky glared at Scotty in annoyance at being corrected in front of the Bridge Crew, a crew of which most were staring at their ipadaclonas anyway, ignoring all about them.

‘What is it called now? Well? Speak up, man!’

‘It’s called the transporter.’

Kirky looked around.

‘OK. You don’t have to shout. Have it your way. Both of you meet me in the transporter room. And Spock? Bring a space suit and some sort of costume that will allow me to blend in. And make sure the shirt comes off easily. You never know, eh?’

‘Yes, Captain. You never know.’

Kirky looked at Bones and Mr Scott, smirked, then went deadpan.

‘Spock? That one off by themselves......is it a male or......a female?’

‘Impossible to say from this distance, Jim.’

Did you really care, Jim?

‘Umm. That’s Captain, if you don’t mind. If it’s not too much trouble?’

‘It has been said by some others that I say it even when I don’t say it, Captain. Anyway, it is impossible to determine the being’s sexual orientation from this distance, Jim.’ As if! And that is not a lie.

‘Thank you, Mr Spock.’

Under my breath and not for the first time I mumbled loudly enough to be heard by all but Kirky, a disparaging and insulting Earth term.

‘Asshole.’

‘Pardon me, Mr Spock?’ Ah success! Words work when eyebrows and ears fail.

And we all heard your mutterings, Spock. Even Jim.

‘Space holes, Captain. Space is full of holes, Captain. I can see several not too far from our current location.’ Laughter echoed around the Bridge. But technically that is not a lie. And as you and all sentient species in the universe know, Vulcans cannot lie. Exaggerate? Yes. We can and do and enjoy doing so.

Kirky glared at me, probably just in annoyance at being informed of this commonly known fact.

‘Umm. Yes, it is. I guess. We should steer around them, whenever possible.’

‘I do, Captain. I do.’ Ah success! As will someday be said out loud by a Vulcan, “Humour is a difficult concept”! Wait! Didn’t I already say that?

As if!

‘I’ll see you in the Material Transporter Laser Room, er, whatever.’

I dis-respectfully “Vulcan-waved” at Boney and departed for that place.

In the Transporter Room

Kirky’s personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and forlorn planet alone, for reasons that make no sense, yet……I feel……I must. Oh well…”

***

‘Spock, I asked you for a costume, not a Halloween get-up.’

‘But Jim, if you are detected it is better that the other does not see you in Human form.’

‘But this is a “Gorn” costume isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It is. Very observant of you, Captain.’ Kirky stared into the distance, gulped nervously, or perhaps, “pensively”? And he didn’t get the joke that any Humans who saw him would be fooled into thinking he was a local? But a Gorn living on Mars? Trauma would set in for certain. Still, he went along with it. Idiot!

A Gorn is probably too close to his real personality!

‘I thought I recognised it. I have…an instinctive revulsion to……reptiles. I must fight to…remember that I am…an intelligent being, a highly advanced individual…the Captain……of……a Starship. Yet the other…on the planet below may…be……a dangerously clever……opponent.’

‘Whatever! Captain.’ Why are these words somewhat familiar to me? Oh yes. Game of Drones.

Vulcans watch videos? It’s so illogical to distract oneself from reality.

‘OK Spock. So let me get this straight. The plan is you transport me into one of those…TriPods on the hangar deck, the ones with the queen sized bed, a flush toilet and…a television set and then…I fly it down to the surface near…the Human. If I’m caught out I’ll…pretend…to be an alien…exploring Mars?’ Hello? Jim? Wake up! You would pass yourself off as a local. At this time in Earth’s existence they did not believe aliens existed. Wait! Logically a Martian would be an alien. So…I should review and amend this later. For now…

‘Yes, possibly. That’s a plan, Captain. Not a good one, but a plan, none-the-less.’ It was the First Officer’s duty to inform his commander. Right? Of anything and everything endlessly.

‘Makes perfect sense to me, Spockly old friend. I bet that kind of thing happens here every day.’

Imagine if you can, Kirky doing his patented half-face Kirky smirk, smile and shoulder shrug in succession thing. He did.

And we had all seen it countless times, too. Iowans! Who knew!

‘What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Nothing Jim, of course. But perhaps as a precaution you should take a phaser set to “Confuse”? Umm. Just in case?’

‘OK. If you insist……I’m ready. Let’s……do……this.’

Moments passed and a possibly over-acting Kirky dramatically declared, ‘Wait. I have to pee. Again.’

Possibly? As if!!

‘By your command, Jim.’

Kirky exited through an open door and returned just a few moments later, struggling to zip up his pants.

Figuratively speaking, of course! He had that pull up your zipper thing down pat.

‘Ah, that feels better. By the way there is a coolant leak in the hall. Scotty? Take care of it personally, will you? Please.’

Scotty sighed resignedly.

‘Again? Aye, Captain.’

What a lazy privileged fart!

‘And Mr Scott. I heard yesterday from a number of staff in the dining hall about there being a chip shortage. I need you to get on that. This is a serious thing.’

‘Aye Captain. But it would help if Cookie and his staff just knew better how to use a replicator.’

‘What? Oh. Yes. I see. Chips and guacamole, too. Please? And if the crew have to eat synthetic turkey I want it to look like meatloaf.’ There goes that “please” thing again.

Then a smirking Kirky ordered, ‘Any way. Let’s do this.’

‘If you’ll put on the costume and space suit…Captain…?’

‘Spock! This suit……this glass bubble thing……it looks like something……something from an old, Earth B-movie. Don’t we have something a bit……snazzier? A little more……campy? Something, say, with more……CF? Compression Factor? I would never have guessed that Jim knew such detailed specifications for…oh. Yes. He meant “Cool factor”

Of course Spock! Didn’t you ever read the instructions? Oh wait. You probably wrote them.

‘No, Jim. Do you not recall, we never go anywhere where you need anything more than a flimsy plastic mask and maybe, under the worst of all conditions, a pair of brightly coloured overalls. Mars is the toughest and most inhospitable place you have ever been to.’ This was true of course.

Kirky grinned broadly.

‘You’re kidding? Really? What’s it like……down……there?’ Hello? Jim? Wake up!

‘The current temperature in your landing area is minus 67 degrees Centigrade. The air is as thin as it is at 30 thousand meters above your Earth’s surface. The winds are blowing toxic dust about at 95 kilometers per hour. Actually, judging by the usual weather reports it’s not a bad day. But, as I said Captain, Mars is the toughest and most inhospitable place you have ever been to.’

Kirky waved his hand dismissively.

‘Never mind all that Vulcan techno babble Spock. What does that translate into…for…me?’

‘I’d wager a very considerable quantity of dilithium crystals that you won’t even notice it Captain. It is bad, but it could be much worse.’ Vulcans are really good gamblers because we don’t let our emotions interfere with our best guesses.

‘Ha’h! I guess I should have known that. I usually just say “Set suit to 72” and forget about it. So, tell me Spock, is it worse than that Super 8 on Sierra Tango Driponus? Ha’h. Of course it is, but you know I can’t remember a lot of the missions from before we ate those ‘shrooms on that so-called Paradise Planet. Do you remember that….Spock? You were right out of it, man. You had this look on your face like when you had just jumped that green wench on Omicron Delta…’ So we’re going to go there again, are we? That only happened there and it was totally because of the “mushrooms” you dared me to eat! Jerk!

So it did happen!

‘Yes Jim. I remember…if you would allow me to assist you in dressing we can have you on your way.’ And the sooner the better.

Kirky held his smirking face towards me as he fumbled awkwardly to put on the costume and the suit. How in Kirok’s name had Humans ever managed to even get into space, never mind space suits?

When he was finally done, with an impassive-Vulcan face I gestured towards the Transporter.

‘Now, if you’ll just step over here…sir…’

‘I know where the Transporter thingy is Mr Spock!’

‘Yes Jim, I know you do. But that is the coffee machine.’

‘So I feel like I need a coffee. Who knows…if they’ll have…coffee down there?’ Gee. Good point Captain. We should send down a recce party first to find out!

Kirky leaned on the counter, casually poured himself a cup, took a few noisy sips from it, placed it on the counter, straightened up, walked over and took his place on the transporter pad, forgetting his coffee.

I could not resist.

‘Fascinating. Maybe that’s why you need to pee so often. Captain.’

At Scotty’s urging he put on his helmet.

‘I hope so……Spock. But Janice was telling me I should get Bones to…check…it…out.’

You had an STD, Jim! And you didn’t give it to or get it from me!

I could not wait. Bye Jim, er Captain. Er, asshole!

‘Energizing.’

‘I may have to have her moved off the ship……’ Yeah, into your personal suite on Raisa, Jim?

Well Spock that would have been a better finish than what actually happened!

The usual noise that 23rd century high tech stuff makes emanated from the high tech stuff thankfully drowning out Kirky’s last words to a now quite disinterested Scotty. And to me. In a moment Kirky disappeared. Not soon enough, though.

I put my head down on the control panel and shuddered.

In Vulcan “Muttering-Voice Mode” I called out.

‘Mother! Moth-er…fu…’ I pulled myself back together.

‘Mr Scott. Tell me please, why do Humans use the word “please”? Jim seems to use it a lot. So does Doctor McCoy. And Nurse Chapel.’

‘Well sometimes it is to be polite and sometimes it is just to change an order into a request. But if you’re a ship’s captain it really doesn’t mean anything.’ True. Obviously true.

Ta da!

‘Then saying “please” to Jim’s God may work? Obviously I mean that he will be kept safe from harm.? While he is down on the surface?’ Not the complete truth, but not a lie, either.

Scotty slapped me on the back.

‘Well Mr Spock. As usual, Grand Moff Elon will do whatever he wants. Even with Captain James T Kirk. And, if we’re lucky laddie, he’ll fall in love with some slimy octopus-like creature down there and decide to stay.’ Scotty got it too. But like most Scotsmen, he could not show his emotions in public. What was that saying? Keep calm and shut your ’effing mouth. Forever?

So that’s when that started. Way back then.

The Surface of Mars –Tempe Terra

Apparently Kirky’s personal log entry made upon his arrival upon the surface recorded, “I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and forlorn planet for reasons that make no sense, yet I feel……I must. Wait. Didn’t I just say this? Who writes this crap anyway? If I were in charge…” While somewhat out of character for Kirky, these words seemed perfectly logical to me.

Perhaps Jim did write it but like many things, he forgot?

Since Jim had not bothered to review my surface study, nor consult with me about where to actually put the TriPod down and was apparently distracted by something else he was watching on his ipadaclona, it landed in a rock and boulder strewn ravine and was tilted dramatically almost to the point of tipping. He decided not to do a redo.

The door is ridiculously small on those things and the triangular shape does not help in any way, so I’m sure Jim had a difficult time getting out. Or in. One had to wonder by what species this craft had been designed and built. Venusian Dwarfs? Elves? Accountants?

Or Starfleet Science Officers?

The large bubble helmet apparently smacked the top of the hatch frame with an audible thump and Kirky apparently dropped to the ground on his knees, momentarily stunned. He apparently cringed for a few moments in shock, holding his helmet with both hands. Apparently, without thinking first he brought his personal communicator to his face, clanging it against the glass helmet. Apparently annoyed at all of this tiresomeness he jammed it into the belt at the back of his suit. It apparently fell to the ground, un-noticed by him. Apparently forever. Get the picture? I did not see any of this happen in person so I must assume the tale a drunken Jim later recounted to us is the truth. So I’ll stop using ‘apparently’. No. Thank you!

Well thank you anyway. Whew!

It began.

‘Stupid communicator. Stupid suit! Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise, come in. This is the Captain. Pick up the goddam communicator Uhura, for God’s sake.’

I answered. How could I not? Well…actually...logically, Lt Uhura should have answered.

‘This is the Enterprise, Captain. Spock here.’ I hate comms protocols. Spock here! Kirk here! Janice there! Gorn there! Been there! Done that!

An annoyed Kirky stared dramatically into the distance as he spoke, apparently. Oops. Sorry.

‘Spock, fire……whoever made…these…ridiculous pod...things and while you’re at it, fire whoever made this ridiculous costume.’

‘Yes Captain. By your command. But I feel it my duty to inform you that Starfleet has commissioned the design of these pods and has ordered two thousand four hundred and three from SNC Lavelin on Ceti Alpha Five. Or was it Six? I always get those confused. Anyway sir, they appear to be here to stay. As for the costume, it was bought at the Wal-Mart on Star Base 102 last October.’

‘Well we should take it back and get our money refunded. There is no fly in the pants. And I have to…’ It was the duty of a First Officer to inform his Captain of important details at critical moments such as this.

‘But it was on sale, Captain. It cannot be returned’.

He just didn’t get the humour in my response, so I moved on.

From what I recall you didn’t actually get it either. Apparently. Ha!

‘I know…you have to pee. Jim. Really. If I may make a recommendation? Perhaps you should consume less alcohol, tea and coffee before embarking upon away missions? There are limits to suit technology and time is often of the…’

‘Thank you Mr Spock for that suggestion. I’ll take it under consideration. There. Done. So I’m beginning the search for intelligent life…or whatever. Kirk out.’ Well it was my duty to inform the Captain of such things that could negatively affect mission success! And did he just pee in that suit?

***

Now, back to our story.

Kirky looked around at the rugged surface before him. He took a few steps and stumbled, catching himself before he fell. The inability to see where he was placing his feet because of the oversized helmet and the Gorn mask apparently made travel down the ravine difficult and was compounded by the irregular terrain. He often cursed colourfully and loudly. Often.

I could not resist. But perhaps I should have? Many of the crew found this quite humorous.

‘Captain. Spock here. Everyone on the Bridge can hear what you are saying. Perhaps you should turn off your mike. Or the radio?’

‘I said Kirk out. Isn’t that enough?’

‘No sir. You have to turn off the mike or the radio.’ Hello? Jim? Wake up! Read the goddamn manual! Please!

‘Oh...OK. Kirk out. Now where the hell is the……’

Kirky stopped talking.

He unfastened the sample basket from his waist belt and examined it. Or so he claimed he did later. But as usual, he flashed it about like a sabre, making swishing noises as he did so, of course which we could still all hear. We all did that waving about thing. Even me.

Not me. But after all, I am a woman!

Paying way too little attention to his footing while rounding a turn, he stumbled and glancing up momentarily, he apparently caught a flash of something out of place, something beige, about thirty meters ahead. At first he thought it was only a trick of light, but incredibly, it was a person. A very ordinary looking Human wearing what Jim later referred to as a “really cool” skin-tight pressure suit with a face hugging helmet. He had never seen that type of suit anywhere and said it was like something out of one of those sci-fi Tri-D movies he was obsessed with. That and what all known species call “porn”. But I must advise that when I later met the inhabitant he did not seem to be uncomfortable with the temperature of the suit.

Well it was obviously a male or things would have gone differently, starting now!

Jim said the other person was poking at the ground with a stick but that was wrong. Apparently it was a cup on the end of a rod; a sample basket functionally exactly like the one Kirky was carrying.

The other person was sideways to Kirky and had apparently not yet seen him. Or possibly he was in full “Vulcan Science Officer Mode” and had seen Kirky and was ignoring him on purpose. Who wouldn’t while exploring a new planet?

Jim?

With little choice and Starfleet-curiosity, Kirky continued down the ravine towards the other. Then he said he stopped and acted as nonchalant as he was ever able to do, stared at the ground, poked it with his sample stick, trying to be cool too.

Finally and suddenly the other saw him and apparently stopped dead in his tracks.

After what seemed an eternity to Jim the other raised an arm, bent at the elbow, with empty palm facing him in what Kirky instantly recognised as the universally used “if-it-ain’t-me-it’s-dangerous threatening destruction gesture”. Even though the proposed standard has not yet been approved by ISO.

Unsure of how else to proceed, Kirky tossed the sample rod away, stiffened his body and crossed his arms in the universal “sign of peaceful intent”. Also not universally approved by ISO.

Then, in “fearful-of-all-who-aren’t-me” Human behaviour mode Jim drew his phaser and fired a single burst at the other, who apparently dropped slowly and limply to the ground.

‘Shit!’ he hollered in “Captain Mode” voice for all who cared to hear. Then he carried on in “Drama-Queen Mode”, still forgetting apparently that we could hear his every word. And grunt. And curses and disrespectful phrases. And Humans fart a lot too.

But not for the first time, Spock, for all god’s sake! Well I don;t know about that fart part.

‘Now what am I going to do? Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk…to Enterprise. Come in…Enterprise.’

By intent, there was no response from the Enterprise. For perfectly a good and logical reason. What if the other heard us and it changed his universe? The Prime Directive?

Out loud, in his most dramatic and annoying voice Kirky pondered.

‘Perhaps he is using……some form of force field……to block…my…transmissions. Or worse, perhaps…he has……seized control of my…mind and is forcing me…to see…what…he……wants…me to see. Visions!’ Here’s hoping Kirky!

‘Oh……God! Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise. Come in Spock. Come in anyone. I need a Security Team. I am in grave danger!’ As if Musk could or would help you. A Captain!After all it is a belief that he dismissed 75% of his god-like work associates!

***

On the Enterprise, I myself, Lt Uhura, Boaster, I mean Doctor McCoy, Mr Scott and others of the Bridge Crew listened to Kirky’s cries for help. Some were holding their sides to suppress their laughter or, I prefer to believe, to contain the pain they felt at their Captain’s crisis. Regardless, we did not answer. Why you ask? The Prime Directive? The most important directive in our universe.

Oh. And I see that you forgot I was there too, Spock listening to the whole silly thing. But after all, I was just a Yeoman! Woman!

On Mars, time passed. The other apparently remained still. More time passed. Then, apparently even more.

***

Kirky sat on the rocky surface staring at the other, pondering his options out loud, in his most dramatic voice still, apparently unaware we all could hear him. Would it have made any difference? Nope.

‘Perhaps I should return…return to the pod and contact the Enterprise with the pod communicator and have them…transport me up, leaving him to explain the encounter in any terms…he chooses and to…endure whatever ridicule this sort of experience produces in this universe. Or……maybe I should kill him while I still can, before his powers grow……too great for me to contend with. Or…I could abandon my mission and care for this poor victim of my perhaps overly hasty and violent act. Or…perhaps I could join these colonists and at the appropriate time confess to them that I am a time traveller from another universe and beg they permit me to stay. Over time, hopefully a short time, I will be embraced as the superior intellect and will assume leadership of the colony and……find a mate……or two.’ Sex! It’s all about sex, Jim! Humans! Actually, just Jim.

At last Spock I have found something you and I agree on!

He paused dramatically, then continued in what Humans call “Pensive Mode”. Still out loud though.

‘To do……or not……to do; that…is the question. But is that really……a question? I mean, that’s the confusing part. Oh why didn’t they teach Shakespeare at the Academy? Oh why? Now that’s a question. No doubt about it, ‘cause it’s got a question mark after it. But what the hell is that period over a comma thing? Oh……well.’ Well maybe if you had paid more attention in English class, Jim?

Or noticed there were other people in the world.

It was time to do it so I suddenly broke in on these profound thoughts. I had to. He was destroying his reputation with the Bridge Crew.

Too late Spock. Way too late. That started when he first walked onto the Bridge and opened his mouth.

‘Captain, Spock here. Are you all right? Are you hurt? You seem to be in pain.’

Suddenly composed, Kirky answered in a different voice. What an actor!

‘No. Why do you ask? Everything’s fine down here. Really great. Fantastic, in fact. How are you? I’ve made contact with one of the Humans. He is resting…and…I think I’ll take him up to the pod and show him around when he wakes up. Kirk out.’ The Prime Directive? Hello? Jim? Wake up!

‘Captain, that may not be wise…’

Apparently, finally getting the hang of the suit radio Kirky cut me off. Thanks, Jim.

Yes. Thanks are due from all of us!

***

Now, logically I feel that I must explain to the reader that unlike the preceding sections which I witnessed in person in their entirety (not a lie) though for much of it I am extrapolating from things heard over the radio and recounted to me by Kirky later, the following part is what I reconstructed from a much inebriated Kirky some weeks later in the Officer’s Mess Club Dining Hall Pool Room Bar. Or was it the Officer’s Mess Club Dining Hall Card Room Bar area? I’ll review the tapes and get back to you.

***

Kirky called out to someone, to whom I cannot imagine.

‘Jerk!’

There he goes. Talking to himself again about himself!

With an unresolved intent Kirky variously dragged and carried the other up the ravine, greatly hampered by the Gorn costume and the bulky suit. Exhausted (he claimed), he stopped twenty meters or so from the TriPod. Breathless (he claimed), he sat (or so he claimed) and examined the other (apparently). Oops. Sorry.

The very cool environmental suit apparently enclosed a very senior Human male. No name tag could be seen though, which irked Kirky to no end. Nor was there a logo stitched to the suit anywhere which would have told “old-school” Kirky much. Without benefit of a tricorder, from only what he could see of the other, the hallmarks were nicely styled grey hair, nice teeth and an overall fine physical condition.

Imagine what would have happened if the other had been female!

Unexpectedly the other began to stir. Apparently panicking, a panicking Kirky shot him again with the phaser.

Then, and only then, he slid back into Human “Pensive Mode”.

‘What to do; what to do? Hey! That’s a lot easier than that “to do or not to do” crap.’

And out loud for the benefit of all within hearing range Kirky pondered his next action.

‘If I am indeed stranded on this alien and hostile planet, I will be at the resident’s mercy and old people like this dude are never going to accept a young fellow like me as their leader. Never. My only option is to erase all the memories in this guy of this meeting and get the hell out of here. Yep. That’s the answer to the “to do” thing.’ Hmm. Nice recovery, Captain. Maybe they won’t court martial you after all. I hope. Wait. That’s a lie. I “suspect” is better and more correct.

He chinned the radio.

And thus we fall back into “Reality Mode”. Boring! Yes. Vulcans can become bored. What made you think otherwise?

Well nothing you’ve ever done Spock!

***

‘Spock! Get down here will you. I need you to clear this dude’s memories. You know. I need you to do that Vulcan mind thing you can do…like that time you erased those memories in…Nurse Chapel after that very awkward New Year’s party? You remember? We were so drunk she took her…’ I gave serious consideration to letting the Captain continue. What harm could come from that? Hmm. Humour. A difficult concept, for sure.

Well there’s nothing funny about this Spock!

‘Captain. Everyone can hear you up here.’ Yes, why did I even bother to tell him? Considering what he said next.

‘Ha, Spock! You fell for it! I can’t believe you fell for it! The oldest trick in the book and you fell for it. You owe Christine an apology, Spock! Get your ass down here on the double before this guy wakes up again.’ Familiar words again. Enough with the Spaceballs, Captain!

‘On my way, Captain.’ But first I have to pee. Yes, Vulcans pee.

Yes. On everything.

***

In a few minutes I materialized beside Kirky wearing a suit similar to that worn by him who I call just “the other one or person” – a form fitting garment with a compact helmet. It was of course, Standard Starfleet issue for those times when it is needed and I had specifically selected it for this mission. And by the way, Jim, a Gorn suit wouldn’t fit me in it! The ears, you know?

An annoyed Kirky commenced to rag on me about this. Victory!

‘So you got yourself a set of cool rags and sent me out in this, this ridiculous outfit…’ I cut him off. I mean I had to or I would have become angry, which is of course not permitted of a Vulcan. To avoid this I shoved him away out of my sight and roughly too.

‘Jim. Really! If you don’t mind? I’m kind of busy just now. I have a job to do and I’d like to do it.’

‘Sure. Sure. It’s just that I look like a fool and you look sooo cool. That doesn’t seem right to me.’ Well. Every victory comes with a price!

And a lot of losers too!

‘It is the Vulcan way Jim. To always Jim, to always look cool. How many times have I told you about that? Don’t waste your time and energy fighting it, you silly Human.’

‘What the hell are you talking about you stuck-up, green blooded, supercilious…’ Oh oh. Here we go. Again.

And again and again and again and…

‘Why thank you, Jim. And here I thought you would never get it.’ It’s called sarcasm. Humans use it. A lot!

Really Spock? Your intellectually advanced race understands sarcasm?

I turned to the other one to roll him onto his back.

‘Give me a hand, will you? Please? If it’s not too much trouble, Captain?’

I set about putting things right. However, before I could do the Vulcan Mind Thing, the other one began to stir. Reluctantly I used the Vulcan “Nerve Pinch” as it is formally referred to in order to knock him out. Apparently Kirky noticed and jumped on me.

‘You have to teach me that, Spock.’ Oh oh. Here we go. Again.

What?

‘I have already tried, Jim. And as I have informed you on at least a dozen occasions, I cannot. I am afraid you, as do all other Human-like entities, lack some of the essential attributes necessary to master the Big Squeeze, as it is called on Vulcan. The Human nervous system lacks the electrical energy required to cause the desired effect. At the very least you must be part Vulcan.’

‘As your Commanding Officer Spock, I order you to teach me that.’ That wasn’t enough. Obviously.

To get “through the moment” as Humans often say, I gave in.

‘Okay. I give up. It’s really simple. How about after supper tonight?’ After all, it was an unknown fact that the Big Squeeze was merely another form of Vulcan mind-meld in which it was projected into the Human mind that they consistently act logically. That was enough to cause most, if not all Humans, to be rendered unconscious. Wait! Does that mean it is a “lie”? Logically, no. So there. Take that Humans!

What? Makes perfect nonsense to me Spock!

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘No seriously Captain. It is quite simple. I can teach it to you in about five minutes. It is really easy. Especially since I am now certain you are at least part-Vulcan.’

But Spock, he already knew that move. He’d done it to me many times. Wait! Maybe the drugs we took caused it?

Kirky missed the joke. Hello? Jim? Wake up!

‘Yeah. OK. Keep it to yourself, Spock!’

‘Aarrgh!’

Now at this point my pretend-to-be-Human side took over, at least a little bit. I took the other one’s helmet in my hands and squeezed until his eyes bulged out of their sockets.’ Fed up, I screamed in rage at Kirky.

‘I am done with this!’

Yaay. Someone else finally got fed up with Jim!

It sunk in. Sort of.

‘Wow Spock. That was really impressive. So, now he thinks he met up with one of them smaller dune buggies, right?’

Still fighting to control myself, I collapsed onto my back, arms and legs flailing in the air. Very un-Vulcan like, I must add.

In retrospect I find my reaction to all this to have been quite fascinating. In a short time I took back control of myself. At least in part. My pretend-to-be-Human part. But wait I don’t…

‘Yes. Maybe. No. I hope so. Potentially.’ Maybe I should shoot Jim and blame it on the other? But where would this guy get a phaser? Unless one was…wait. Later.

‘Good. Good. No one would ever question that they had seen one of them rolly buggy things, eh Spock?’ Nope. Never, Jim.

‘They are called B-types, Captain. They are quite plentiful and yes, they are probably quite often encountered on the surface by human travellers. I mean it’s a small planet, isn’t it? How could you miss them?’

‘Unless and I hope I’m wrong, he is, what is it? What are people who…see things? Visionaries? Borgs?...Empaths?...?’ Sex-obsessed Starfleet Captains?

Yep Spock. You got it right this time.

‘No. I believe the expression you are seeking Captain is “fantasy prone”. That, however, is a very unlikely trait in a scientist, sir. Hopefully very, very unlikely. It is quite illogical.’

‘That’s a big fer sure.’ At last we agreed on something. A first.

In a supreme Vulcan effort I pulled myself together and back into the moment.

‘Jim, he is low on oxygen. About thirty minutes reserve is all that is remaining. To ensure his survival we must replenish his supply. And if we are to truly ensure his survival and repay him for the indignities he has suffered he must be returned to his “dune buggy” as you refer to it, immediately. Then, I suggest, we give him a Cordruzine shot to calm him and leave as soon as we are able.’ It was the Human thing to do.

Kirky shrugged his shoulders so dramatically that the motion was obvious, even in the Gorn costume and under the old-style suit. Actors! Who knew?

‘Yeah. Sure. Let’s do that, Spock.’

Kirky stared into the ever-present-in-his-mind camera. Ha’h. For the first time, too.

‘But no. We…will……leave……him…here. In this place. And no, I’m not giving him any oxygen, either. Or Cordruzine. Way too……expensive? You know that Spock. You know the price of oxygen is out of sight in this quadrant. Sector? Er, whatever.’ Resignedly, deadpan, I acquiesced.

‘Fine sir. Fine. Your perspicacity and generosity are notorious throughout the Galaxy. There…it is done.’ Get me the hell out of here!

‘Really? Already? I thought it’d take a lot longer. I thought you had to hold his head with your fingers just so and stare into his face for like an hour or so.’

Kirky tried to position his fingers but was prevented by the awkward Gorn hands inside the bulky suit gloves. He looked at me Gorn wall-eyed, a look which surprisingly seemed more sincere and believable than many other times he had done so, even under far more critical conditions. Fascinating. How stupid Kirky could be, I mean.

But I stayed in myself for the moment.

‘No. That is just for dramatic effect. Captain, we must hurry. We have not much time before he awakens.’

‘Well, after you, Mr Spock.’

Kirky gestured dramatically in the direction of the TriPod.

‘The Captain is always the last to leave. Right?’

And the first to come! Wait. Computer, take out my last comment.

Yes dear. I will.

‘Actually Jim, we will fly up at precisely the same moment.’

‘So like, whatever!’ Hello? Jim? Go back to sleep, will ya!

I led the way to the TriPod. Kirky followed, stumbling along in my tracks.

I entered. Yes. It was ridiculously awkward to climb in. Even for an extremely fit Vulcan. Jim climbed in with difficulty. Some of the difficulty though was due to the suit and Gorn costume. Probably.

As the hatch closed, as Kirky later recounted it seemed that for a brief moment the other had regained consciousness and looked straight into his eyes. Instinctively Kirky had given him the universal sign of “goodbye” with the upright middle digit, something easy to do with a Gorn’s three fingered hand. I wonder if he has ever actually read that manual. Or anything!

In a few minutes I had us back on the Enterprise hangar deck.

Back on the Enterprise

The Captain’s Log Supplemental which is recorded for the purposes of keeping a record recorded by an obsessive Kirky recorded, “I have returned from my mission on the planet Mars of this parallel universe, exhausted and embarrassed, a little sweaty, but none the worse for wear. However, if I don’t get out of here within the next three hours I will face a death sentence at Mr Spock’s hands...No wait… Let me think…? What mission, er mission is this? Oh yeah.” Again. I only heard about this from a rather drunk and dramatic Kirky several days later in the bar. He explained it sort of, but did not apologise.

***

‘Well Jimmy-boy, looks like you dodged another one.’

‘Yes, Bones. It was pretty rough, but I got us through it.’ Yes. It was all about me! Er, Jim.

Softly, under his breath he added, ‘But……will you look over very casually at Spock……and tell me? Casually……I said!’ Jim didn’t know we could all hear him?

Kirky fake looked at his fingernails, shook his hands and blew on them.

‘Does he have a goatee?’ Really? That’s something I should try. Maybe it would make Kirky and Boney fear me. Er, respect me?

Good luck with that Spocky. Er Mr Spock!

Bones picked up on Kirky’s slightly odd behaviour.

‘What? Are you nuts, Jimmerino? Spock only has a beard in a few episodes and this isn't one of them. Are you all right Jim? You seem distracted.’ You called it Doctor!

‘Missions. They’re called missions. Oh look! A chipped nail! God, I hate when that happens.’

Kirky spoke in a full voice for all to hear and Bones “got it”.

‘Oh my God! You need to come down to Sick Bay immediately, Jimmly. A drink of Romulan ale will fix you right up.’ Oh, oh. They’re falling into “Starfleet-Code-Word Mode”.

‘Romulan ale! Why Bones, that’s illegal!’ Actually they should change that part because you can easily replicate it and even buy it at Wal-Mart now. “Chipped nail” was still good though.

‘Well Captain, I’m a Doctor, not a Bartender! Nor an Engineer. Or a Mason. I could go on…’ And you usually did until someone insulted, punched or shot you!

Yes. And it never did any good!

‘Oh, I can hold out for a few minutes more, Bones……but Spock?’

I knew what was coming, but I still gave what Humans call “a surprised look”.

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘I was just wondering how that solitary dude would explain the whole thing to his people. Probably he would be written off as a nut case and forced to stay out on his own to avoid infecting the others with his delusions, eh? I mean if he had too. Of course he doesn’t have to since you cleared his head of all memories of his encounter with me using that tekky sci-fi stuff, right? That right, Spock?’ Well, maybe. But I did quit a bit early. So no…probably not. There goes the universe, Jim. H’ah!

C’mon Spock! Everybody knows that’s a fake thingy! Except Jim; when he wants to.

‘Yes, Captain. I am certain that no problems resulting from this incident remain that cannot be solved with science and logic. Science will triumph.’ Ah, Starfleet Academy - dodge, deflect, deny. Semantics saved the day!

‘Um, good Spock. And um…that, that Vulcan mind trick? It’s real, right? That’s, that’s not just some parlour stunt you use…to impress…the ladies, is it?’

‘No Captain. It is not something I just use to impress the ladies.’ But now that you mention it Kirky…

See!

‘You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spock?’

‘Captain. As you well know, Vulcans are incapable of lying.’ H’eh. Hello? Jim? Wake up!

‘Yes. Of course…as you feel…you must…keep saying…because otherwise we may have altered the future of that universe in way we cannot imagine. Potentially, I suppose my just having been there could result in its complete destruction. And it could affect ours. You know? Create a spin-off? Or worse. Potentially?’ Don’t burn your brain out on that one Jim!

Too late, Spock. Way too late.

‘No need to fear, Jim. And by the way, it is called an “alternate universe”.’

‘That’s Captain, Spock.’

An otherwise calm me looked away to my instruments for a brief moment, a telling Vulcan smirk on my face.

‘Ahem. No need to fear Captain…hmmm…asshole.’

‘What’s that Spock?’ Good thing all that Bridge noise has rendered Kirky partially deaf.

I think he’d heard it often enough to just ignore it!

‘Nothing, Captain. Just clearing my throat. Asshem! Better now. Much better. And thank you Doctor for that advice regarding clearing one’s throat. Most helpful.’

‘What the hell are you talking about Spock? I never said…’ Humour!

Kirky interrupted us as he often did. Thankfully.

‘Spock, I think we should further investigate this planet. You and I and Bones should beam down to the largest of the habitations and probe the locals.’

‘How apropos is your selection of words, Captain. And that was not a question. I believe you Humans call it - a slur?’ Humour!

No Spock. You got it right the first time.

‘I dunno. Investigate? That better?’

‘Much better. But Captain…your encounter with that single solitary individual was, to say the least…very risky both to you and to his society. It was, if I may elaborate, very likely a breach of the Prime Directive.’

‘Well rules were meant to be broken, Spock.’ Yeah, Jim. That’s what we spent all that time learning at SFA. Right? Ah, “Lecture Mode”.

‘Ahem, Captain. Really? That seems to be very much, as Humans say, “out of character” for a Starfleet Captain.’ But not James T for Turd Kirky. But who the hell was this guy? Had something happened to him on the surface? Had identities been exchanged with “The Other” as Jim insisted on calling him? I pondered the probabilities of this to myself. Yes. It was possible. After all, Kirky did often seem to suffer from dissociative identity disorder or as it is known on Vulcan as “multiple personality disorder”. And there was that time in Mission…

Here’s hoping Spock.

‘Moving on……Spock? You OK? You seem to have drifted away there for a moment.’ Hello? Spock? Wake up!

‘Well Captain, as for that moving on thing, as there are very few of them, they will almost certainly all know each other. I mean how could they not all know each other? You'd have to be a loner, potentially a nut case not to know everyone in such a small group. They are all part of a dedicated research team, working together for the rest of their lives to explore and understand Mars. But…I digress. Forgive me, Jim. How do you propose we remain incognito? You would be in the Gorn costume, I suppose?’

I knew where this was going. Sort of. You never really knew with Kirky.

Not for long, anyway.

‘Don't be ridiculous Spock!’ See what I mean?

‘We represent the United Federation of Planets. I will wear my regulation Starfleet uniform. You will wear the same. As for Bones, he is a southern-ish Doctor, comfortable in all social situations and can blend in with ease, even in uniform. We would move around as much as we can, not staying anywhere long enough to arouse suspicion…or interest…and we will…bring our costumes down with us that allow us to…fit…in. Just in case. Okay? You OK with that, Spock?’ Gee. That has no possibility of failure. Oops. Correction. A ninety-three point 7 percent possibility of failure. Still…

‘Sounds good to me, Jim.’

Oh my! I never knew you hated Kirky so much, Spock. We could have been friends and worked together. To get rid of him.

Bones shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, waved his arms, etc in Boney fashion. See what I mean? SFA graduates all learn the same things. Or don’t.

‘I don’t know Jim. Sounds like a bad idea to me. I’m going to vote against it.’

Kirky smiled to himself in “Kirky Mode” and then into the camera.

‘I’ll keep that in mind Bones…when this becomes…a democracy. So Spock, let's get to it. As soon as I go...’

‘I know Captain. As soon as you relieve yourself.’ How could I see that coming? Oh yeah! SFA graduates all learn the same things. Or don’t. OMG! I am a screwed up as Jim! Maybe something do take place on the surface that affected my logic and reasoning powers.

Not for long, anyway. Wait. What is going on here?

‘Yeah. That too. Scotty, take over the Bridge. Wait. That won’t work. You’re the only one who knows how to work the transport thingy, aren’t you? Scotty! Spock! Bones! To the Transformer Room!’

Yeah Jim. Even I could work the transporter. Me! A Yeoman! Woman!

In the Transporter Room. Again

I had brought a “plastic laundry basket” full of clothing and some shoe boxes to the Transporter Room. Kirky and Bones looked them over. There being limited time to gather these things I had asked the Ship’s Computer, a couple of the Red Shirts and of course Chekov for advice. There was a T-shirt with Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album cover logo on the front and a blue ball cap. It was labelled “We the Mars” and adorned with a Gorn paw. The Doctor pulled out a T-shirt with the words “Lynyrd Skynyrd” over an ancient Confederate flag.

Spock for goodness sake, it’s called “plastek”.

Scotty got it.

‘Cool stuff, Mr Spock.’

Kirky tried on the ball cap. Bones put on the T-shirt.

Kirky, however, didn’t. Get it, I mean.

‘These items of clothing Spock. Are you sure they’ll aid us in fitting in? That is, if we need them. Which we won’t, I’m sure.’ Yes, no, maybe, Jim.

‘Well Captain, computer analysis of the mode of dress and fashion of this period on the Earth of our universe has been extrapolated to be approximately the same in this universe and we must trust our much beloved computer to look out for our interests. She has never…’ Well there was that time when those female programmers had made those…what is it they’re called? Programming changes? And it became all about seduction. And then there was that…

Predictably Kirky interrupted me.

‘But this hat, Spock. It would be undignified for a Captain of a Starship to wear such a thing.’

An annoyed Bones jumped in.

‘Yeah Spock. Jim needs to look cool and that hat thing covers his hair way too much.’

He looked down at the logo on his T-shirt and traced the letters.

‘And who the hell are the Ly…nerd Sky…nerds, anyway?’ As if he didn’t know.

Yes! On what planet and in what century was Leonard born? And named after? Idiot!

‘May I remind you Doctor, the Captain has deduced that we will not need any of this? We must assume that he is correct. After all, we often beam down to new and strange planets in our day to day Starfleet uniforms…and we just play it by ear, er I mean along with whatever…seems to come out of that somewhat questionable presumption.’

I chose at this point to snub Boney. Reaching over I turned Kirky’s cap around placing the “bill” as it is apparently called, at the back.

‘Oh yeah! That’s better. Much better, Spock. Thank you.’

‘Yeah Spock. Much better.’

‘Thank you Doctor.’

Kirky examined the pants. They were saggy and baggy. On any planet.

‘Nice fit…if…I need them.’

Boney, however, was not amused.

‘Spock. You must be joking. These things are ridiculous.’

‘Doctor, I am merely the conveyance for the recommendations of the ship’s computer. As I have already…’

‘Enough, Spock! What are you proposing to wear?’

‘Well Doctor. As Jim said, we will wear our uniforms. However, I have selected some things from a few decades post your apparel for myself. Aaah, just to be safe. You know?’

I pulled out Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper’s Theory of Robot Evolution Tee shirt, a pair of khaki cargo pants and a dark blue whoopee-style tuque which I pulled on whilst turning about in “Human-Fashion-Model Mode” just to piss off Boney. It didn’t work.

‘Nice! You’ll fit in as well as anyone could. And it would help around here if you would wear that tuque all the time. Now if you could just do something about those eyebrows, Spock…’

‘I beg your pardon, Doctor. That was offensive.’

‘Yeah. I know. Deal with it, Spock. You semi-functioning…’

I stared Vulcan-style at Bones and pulled the tuque on, covering my ears. Vulcan-style staring includes sticking your tongue out at the person too. But unlike Humans it is done very rapidly and with the tongue rigid and pointy.

OMG. I didn’t know that.

A presumptive Kirky interrupted Bones, holding up a pair bright orange Hi-tops. I guess it’s all about priorities.

‘About these shoes, Spock. Are they not perhaps more suited…to… the sporting …field?’

‘Perhaps Captain, but I believe it is more a question of style than suitability for walking, etcetera. They are, after all, what the ship’s computer suggests. And she should know. Besides. As you have insisted, we will not need them.’ As if!

‘Yes. True. Oh well. Let’s get down there. We’ll go like this. What could possibly go wrong? But Spock…bring that basket of clothes just in case we need…to…change. Have you selected a…location? A place? A venue?’

‘Yes, Captain. An in-depth survey has found an area in the largest of the underground habitations that appears to be away from occupied areas and is currently devoid of Humans. However, I must advise that it does seem to contain a large quantity of organic matter at the sub-species level of existence.’ Or maybe it’s Humans?

‘Say what? Great! Great. That’ll do Spock. That’ll do. To the machine!’ Familiar words again. Pigs! Enough, Captain!

We took our places on the Transporter. I, of course, carried the basket of costume clothing.

Scotty did his slow sliding of magic hands. The usual noises emanated, our figures blurred and faded. Blah, blah, blah.

The Sub-surface of Mars

As I had meticulously planned just moments before we materialised in a dark area away from the main hall. Lights could be seen off to the left. But it turned out we had arrived in a shallow pond of water and were standing knee deep. That logically explained the presence of organic material that I had detected. Probably.

Kirky’s pissed off expression conveyed that it was well-deserved.

‘Damn you Spock! You could have selected a more convenient place.’

‘Yes! God Jim, I hope this isn’t the sewage lagoon.’

Yeah Spock. Who wouldn’t be pissed off at ruining their clothes?

I recovered quickly and looked down and around. I would have used my tricorder but the loud annoying noise it makes when in use may have drawn attention. And my hands were full.

‘Relax gentlemen. At least it is somewhat warm. And it could hardly be more practical. I have no memory of this particular place of course but from the sandy beach, the discarded drink containers, the cabana and prevalence of lawn chairs, I deduce this to be a recreational area. It is probably quite safe. We should not be observed here and at least we did not materialise inside a rock.’ As if! But then there was that time when… Ah science!

‘Cabana?’

‘Yes, Jim. Beaches have them.’ Thanks Boney.

‘They do?’

‘Raisa?’

‘Not ringing any bells here.’

‘Jim? The planet Raisa? The pleasure planet?’

‘Oh yeah. What a ridiculous name for a planet. Isn’t it officially Omicron Delta Marriott Upsilon Auriga Pentathlon V?’

‘Jim-boy, we really must change your meds.’

‘Say what?’ Yeah. Thanks Boney.

Wait a minute Spock! It wasn’t ever officially anything else but that. Raisa was just a fun name. As in “Raisa up, sir and let’s get started”.

Ever distrustful as always, we (actually only Kirky and Boney) looked around in a half-crouch with phasers drawn. Why? In case someone tried to steal our clothes basket?

No Spock! Haven’t you been paying attention? Aliens always try to kill you when you first meet them! Always! Jim said so.

Finally, somewhat assured of our safety we at last waded ashore led of course by Kirky, who said nothing until we reached the cabana. At least he kept his shirt on. Although if ever there was a place where…

Funny!!

Then, prioritizing things, he looked down at his soggy shoes covered with sand.

‘Well Spock……we may be safe but I’ve just ruined my shoes! And I paid for them…myself!’

‘They are not regulation issue, Captain? Fascinating! However Captain, the replicator can make more. Should I have them sent down?’ Really Jim? Our immediate concern is your goddam shoes?

‘Yes, please do. They’re really squishy.’

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘And Spock.’

‘Yes Captain.’

‘Don’t…forget…clean socks, too.’ Of course. How could I forget?

Yes. Jim was always concerned with cleanliness. There was that time on Raisa when we were in that mud bath when…. Oops!

***

Kirky sat down on what in any universe and planet is called a lounge chair and ran his hand over the armrest, several times. ‘Hmmm. Interesting. Feels like…the same…plastic…we use. Spock? Mr Science Officer?’

Intrigued, I did the same.

‘I believe we call it plastek in our universe, Captain.’ Definitely oddly shaped though.

Kirky smirked and took his regulation shoes off, draining the water from them.

I spoke quietly into my communicator and in a few minutes three shoe boxes materialised before us.

We exchanged our wet ones for dry. Actually wet feet are more comfortable to Vulcans. And sexually stimulating. In their time.

Gee Spock. I wish I’d known that. It could have changed things between us. Wait! No. It would not.

Kirky threw his soggy pair into the pond. Likewise did Bones. I scowled at them but got nothing back.

I placed my footwear in one of the boxes and slid it under a chair near the clothes basket. Humans! No wonder their homeworld was a vast overheated junkyard. And did they just violate the Prime Directive? Nike? Thor? Patriot? Lululimeona? Well…we’ll see.

Funny!!

Then I arose and with my phaser at the Vulcan sort-of-ready position, pulled open the door of the cabana, peered in and looked around. Nothing of importance. About what I expected.

I announced, ‘The cabana is currently vacant. I suggest we take up position in here to assess the situation.’

The three of us entered and took seats on the benches. There were typical Raisa-style beach posters on the wall, a natty Raisa-style rug and Raisa-style beach towels on hooks. Also there was a very modern looking computer terminal and a large screen, labelled “Leveno”. I resisted the urge to correct the grammatical error.

I pecked away tentatively at the “keyboard” while the other two looked around. I was soon “typing” like a pro. Fascinating, it was. A good word!

‘Well Spock? What have you managed to learn?’ Kirky interrupted my research. Again. As always.

‘Typing. A lost art. That Alt-Shift-Ctrl manoeuvre is, however, completely illogical.’ Not as if either of them would actually understand “typing”. That is, after all, what Yeomen are for. Well. Actually…that and other things.

Careful Spock!

‘Ahem. Captain. This is a science colony established by a multi-nation effort in the year 2040. It is now October 31 2045. Or maybe it’s October 62. Regardless, there have been many prior missions, but none were successful in establishing a permanent colony. Research is being conducted in fusion, genetics and semantics.’ Let’s see if he picks up on that.

‘Ha’h. Fusion! Good luck with that!’ Nope.

‘Actually Jim, affordable practical generation of power by fusion is estimated to be a mere ten years off in our own universe. Perhaps this universe knows something ours does not.’ Afterall, the rumours that the petroleum industry was subverting fusion research were everywhere but in the mainstream news. Even on Vulcan.

‘Sure. Sure they do. What else have you got?’

‘Apparently their mission is one-way. No return to Earth is possible. Apparently.’ Here we go again with that “apparently” thing. Ugh! Why do Humans insist we make the distinction between what happened and what, erm “apparently” happened?

Because it’s fun, Spock! H’ah!

‘That seems wise. After a week on the surface of this place everyone would get in a ship and head back. What a dump. No hotels. No bars. No Orion…’

‘Yes, Captain. But perhaps scientists view this planet differently than do you.’

‘Sure they do. I’m sure they do Spock. But Spock, never mind all that tekky stuff. What else have you learned?’

I turned to face Kirky. Here we go. With a Science Officer’s assessment of a planet. Boring! No. Let’s try something different.

‘I have found the equivalent of the local newspaper. There is everything one could want to know about this place in something called the Social Section. There is a reception tonight in the so-called Grand Hall. A party, I believe it is called. It is going on as we speak.’

‘And?’

I turned back to the screen, annoyed at Kirky but compliant. Should I tell the truth. Did I have a choice? Of course I did. Everyone has choices.

‘It is a…costume party. There is a theme – Science Fiction…TV…shows of the 20th Century. I am not familiar with the term TV and of course I cannot extrapolate on the possible content of this form of media without being given additional time and unrestricted access to their data storage systems, and, as I have already informed you…Captain, there seems to some form of protection that I cannot penetrate. Therefore…Captain, while the risks are high, this is a golden opportunity to meet people with a much reduced chance of being revealed as aliens. We could retain our uniforms. No. Correction. We could and should retain our uniforms. I am certain we will…as you often say, Captain…fit in?’

‘Speak for yourself you misshapen Vulcan alien piece of…’ Victory!

Kirky interrupted a successfully-annoyed Bones.

‘Oh my God. A costume party? Spockly, I love them. Get busy and order us up something to wear. But I want to be a Klingon. You Bones? A Gorn? Spock? Aristotle? Quick now. Be quick about it.’ He was choosing to ignore my somewhat suspect advice that we retain out uniforms. Funny how the Captain of a Starfleet ship has total control over the crew under all circumstances, innit?

No Spock. Not funny!

But Bones was ready.

‘I wanted to be the Archangel Gabriel but no, I have to be a goddam…’

The cabana door suddenly opened. Mercifully. Maybe.

Outside was an orange faced, yellow haired man, dressed in a “cowboy” shirt, wearing something I later found out were called “chaps” or “pantaloons”, with a 45.4 liter felt hat and two ancient explosive-propelled lead-projectile weapons strapped to his waist, which I was later informed by Boney are referred to as “six-shooters”. How does he know these things?

Before we could react he spoke. And was obviously inebriated. But why didn’t one or two of us shoot him dead immediately? Obviously a training failure of some importance. Regardless, it did not go as I feared.

‘Hey, why you guys hiding out here? The party is about to get serious. You wanna be there for the contest, ‘cause I’m the judge. I don’t see no winners here though. Talk about alienating people. Hey that’s funny! Write that down.’

He pointed at Kirky and then me. But not because we looked out of place.

‘Let’s go, Jean Luck. And you. What are you supposed to be – one of them Rumillassians? I expect I’ll hear an earful from you, too! H’ah. Good one.’ Vulcans and Romulans possibly shared a common genetic origin so he wasn’t that far off the mark, I guess. However, the tuque was obviously doing its job. And really, it was never part of my uniform.

Too bad Spock. It would have helped you, as Jim says, “Fit in”.

He pointed at Bones, staring for a long moment. Who could resist?

‘And you! You’re a born cowboy, aren’t you? I can’t believe you chose that silly outfit over something cool like mine.’ At least he got part of it right.

Without waiting for a reply he turned away and headed towards the lit area.

We clambered out onto the beach.

In the dim light we could see others gathering in the Grand Hall.

Jim showed a most impressive leadership style.

‘Well that was offensive. Let’s go gentlemen. We don’t want to keep the ladies in waiting.’

I tossed the tuque into the pond. But then upon reconsideration of this illogical act I retrieved it and put it on. Later.

Always about sex! Right Jim?

Outside the Cabana

I had a plan. Of course I did.

‘Captain, I suggest we go separately to avoid the appearance of collaboration.’ Although that was somewhat illogical since we were dressed alike. Oh well.

‘What? Oh. OK. Keep your phaser and communicator out of sight, too, I guess. And that tricorder thingy too. We should meet back here in one hour. That should be sufficient time to learn all there is to know about these people.’

Bones and I answered simultaneously, both in “deadpan Bridge” fashion.

‘Yes Captain.’ That said it all.

‘But Spock…you go first.’ Sure Kirky. Better I die than you.

I headed across the sandy beach towards the crowd followed loosely by Bones and then Kirky. Upon reflection, not all that uncommon a thing, whenever things were, what is it Humans say? “Dicey”?

As we neared the assembled multitude I, who had been closely observing the people and had seen some troubling things while Bones and Kirky with their heads down had been not paying attention and had been kicking the sand about with their feet like a pair of Romulan two year olds at a beach, stopped suddenly and turned back towards them with arms spread and with palms up in the universal sign of “Go Baack! Go baack!” urging them back towards the cabana. Clearly not paying attention to the things going on around them and me, they nearly ran me down. Oh well. Shouting will help. So I did.

‘Captain! There are alien creatures here who I believe we have encountered previously in our missions. Some are potentially violent ones. I have seen Klingons, some Andorians and many others that I cannot recognise, some of which are in some form of robotic configuration! Although honestly, I find I must advise the Klingons appear to be a more primitive sub-species of the Klingon race that we ourselves know of. But there is no simple and easy logical explanation for any of this. At the very least, I believe we may be in danger!’ Seeing the error of my ways, I changed to “Spock-Lecture Mode”.

‘Well, logically, you may be in danger, Captain and perhaps you too, Doctor, but as for myself…I feel that my Vulcan manners…my considerate and logical approach to all that we have…’

But Boney had already heard enough. Thank goodness. I was running out of annoying things to say.

‘Oh for Kirok’s sake Spock, it’s a sci-fi costume party! There are bound to be alien-looking people here. Some of them we will recognise because they will look just like us Humans, though dressed up in some cute way. Some though will be perversions and ugly representations of Human-like creatures, with overly large body parts such as…oh my! Sorry, Spock… if I’ve offended you.’

‘Given the strangeness of this entire junket, Doctor, none is taken. However, I feel that I must point out that…just because you cannot see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t well known. Compared to Human males a Vulcan's penis is…’ Gotcha!

See! It’s all about sex with you guys no matter what species or planet or universe!

With his eyes focused on the crowd Kirky pushed past me. I must have gotten through to him.

‘Yes, Spock. Let’s move on.’

As he took the lead, he stomped his feet to clean them of sand, pulled his tunic down into place and pushed a lock of hair back into place.

We split up again.

A “Partay” on Mars

The area was an open space with tables and chairs arranged around a stage in front of an enormous window that overlooked a crater floor. Several robot-like mechanisms with six wheels and shaped like up-right Vulcan brandy kegs with thin necks and a round canister on top with multiple eyes and a slit mouth were on the stage. One was playing loud music over an enormous “stereo sound system”. The other was clapping its six hands above its head and singing along in an obviously so far fruitless effort to generate enthusiasm.

The noisy and illogical music which I totally did not recognize was, I learned later from Nurse Chapel by singing some of the tracts to her, by a “band” of Humans called “Radiohead” and was of course totally unknown to any of us, seeing as we were, she concluded, privileged seniors from places other than southern California. Well. So she said.

And you believed her of course, didn’t you Spock. REM are from Iceland. Idiot!

Despite the festive mood most of the costumed people were in groups of three or four, refreshment drinks in hand, discussing something technical or their health or apparently, the state of the management. The party was well underway, but was not what one might have logically expected, all considered. Not at all what Vulcans call a “joyous celebration”.

Everyone knows Vulcans are not allowed to have fun! Or have you guys been lying to us all along?

Correction dear. Vulcans can have fun but they are not allowed to appear so. Or speak of it.

Everyone knows that Computer!

Oh. I did not. That explains a lot.

No one paid the least attention to us and at a loss, we three were soon together again standing alone on the edge of the crowd.

Alone again. Naturally. Look it up!

Oh. I did. That explains a lot.

***

We reached the stage on the fringe of the group and were approached by an AI similar to those on the stage bearing a tray of refreshments and what apparently passed for nourishment. It stopped in front of us. The canister tilted up and the somewhat crossed eyes looked to me.

I could not resist and spoke first. Afterall, I was the Ship’s Science Officer.

‘You appear to be some form of artificial intelligence being. An AI, if I may presume and be brief?’

In a totally Human-type voice it spoke to me.

‘How may I be of service? Would you care for a drink?’

Intrigued, I bent down to answer.

‘If I am not being too invasive, may I ask? What is it?’

‘An excellent Shiraz. Apparently grown in the MHM. I am told to say it is wonderful.’

‘No thank you,’ about did it for me, but Bones and Kirky took a glass each from the proffered tray, took a sip and downed the entire contents in one gulp. And simultaneously they offered their assessment. MHM? Whatever might that mean? My Humanistic Module?

‘You bet your Shiraz. Yes, Excellent!’ and grabbed another.

That’s terrible Spock. You should have scolded them!

That is not permitted dear. That is a display of emotion.

Shut up Computer!

‘An appetizer perhaps?’

I tried again.

‘What is it?’ This time about the nourishment it had referred to as an “appetizer”.

‘Koi, I am told. A form of fish. I am told to say it is wonderful, too.’

‘No, thank you.’

Kirky and Bones each took a sample and gulped it down.

Kirky gushed with delight. He and Bones filled their hands.

‘Koi you say. Excellent!’

‘Yes Bones. Excellent. I wonder where they are keeping their replicators.’

I, however remained mission-centered.

‘May I ask what manner of creature you are?’

The AI stiffened with head drawn back, about as offended as an AI can be and can show without killing someone, which of course is strictly forbidden. Hopefully here on this version of Mars, too.

Hmm. No comment.

Yes dear.

‘I am an E-type, designation E177. Also known as a Doobot. And for your information, it is pronounced “dough bought”, by the way. So. How may I be of service? And you are?’

‘My name is of no importance.’

The miffed AI retorted, ‘Of course, sir. No importance whatsoever,’ and moved away, obviously miffed at the encounter.

Bones picked up on it.

‘A paranoid android, if I ever saw one. I’d be climbing up the walls if I had to interact with them types every day. I much prefer Christine. At least she has a mouth. With teeth. You Spock?’

‘No comment, Doctor. But I must say, she is fitter and happier than that thing.’ Christine and I were, after all, just intimate friends.

First time I ever heard that! I always thought you were gay and had a thing for Jim, from the way you were totally obsessed with him. Imagine that! H’ah! As if!

Kirky looked across the room and mumbled something. Something about religion and setting phasers on “stun” perhaps?

‘A female. A lone female. Green! And she’s an Orion…Lucky!’ Nope.

He moved in the direction of a woman standing alone and I assume, was costumed as an Orion female.

Here we go. Romulan ale and Orion women. Jim’s addictions. Well, two of them, anyway.

Turning and looking back at us the Captain said, ‘Gentlemen. Partay-on. That’s an order.’ And he strutted away quickly.

‘Fascinating. Do you not agree, Doctor? An anomaly, I am sure. I believe the Captain is due for a letdown. This cannot go well. Logically.’

Bones turned to me in a wide grin.

‘No surprises there, eh Spock? But tell me, how is it that you have the ability to offend any creature sentient or otherwise, or any robot in any universe or any social situation?’

I was ready for this question from Boney and had been for quite some time.

For a good reason too.

‘I have been instructed by the best of them, Doctor. Thank you for your own not-insignificant-contribution to my education.’

‘Well, you’re welcome, Spock. Thank you.’ He just didn’t get sarcasm. Or if you prefer, the truth.

Nope.

***

Alone again we scanned the crowd. Bones chased down another Doobot and got another glass of wine and some more fish.

‘Crispy. Deep fried. Appies it calls them. It’s short for appetizer.’

‘How apt.’ Nor humour, evidently.

I looked about and took in the assembled mass, processing all I saw.

‘This group is quite diverse. I hear Punjabi, Hindi, Mandarin, Russian, Farsi, French, English, Cockney and even American. I believe that all of the main ethnicities of Earth are represented here, Doctor.’

‘Why Spock, it’s just like the Enterprise. We have Andorians on some trips. Nobody likes them though. And Orions. I like them. Jim certainly likes them. Some of them, anyway. The females? You know?’

I nodded in assent.

‘And then there’s Chekov.’

‘Yes. Chekov. Challenging.’

True. Honest people can be challenging.

‘But I am disturbed, Doctor. I have seen persons made up and dressed as aliens. That gentleman over there for instance, he is black on one half and white on the other. He cannot be here. We dealt with him in our universe. Nor can that creature over there – of male or female gender I cannot discern without an opportunity to examine him or her or it physically with a tricorder – who or which, appears to be of the same shapeshifter lifeform as your former love interest. Nancy, I believe she was named?’

‘Yes! For God’s sake Spock, keep me away from her! She’s just a blood-sucking leech!’ The Doctor had such a hard time dealing with alien lifeforms. I wonder why? Oh. Yes.

But Bones paused a moment and reconsidered.

‘Wait…actually…wait Spock! Perhaps in this universe she would…after all this just a costume party and…we might actually be able to…she was really hot too…’

‘Yes, Doctor. But truly, I feel I must point out that in our universe she was just a salt-sucking leech merely seeking to continue her existence and we…er, um you killed…’ OMG!

Suddenly distracted I stopped speaking and stared across the room, fixated upon some things Bones could not see but I being much taller could and I cut off Boney in mid-contemplation of the Nancy creature and of re-entering into relationship that was logically bound to end poorly again, despite his changed emotional basis for pursuing such a relationship in order to comment,

‘Fascinating.’

Bones struggled to see what was holding my attention. He rose up on his tiptoes.

‘What is it Spock? Better yet, who is it?’

‘I repeat. Fascinating.’

‘I heard you the first time you rabbit-eared hobgoblin. What do you see?’ At least he was listening.

‘Doctor, I see three persons in Starfleet uniforms. From this distance they appear to be a Vulcan and two Earth-type Humans. How illogical.’ Yes. Illogical. A good word. The eleventh most used word on Vulcan. By male Vulcans, of course.

“Please” is the one hundred and twenty-sixth most commonly used word (by Vulcan males!)

‘Damn you Spock! Where are they? Are you joking with me?’

‘How likely is that, Doctor?’

‘Oh yeah. Sorry Spock.’ Joking is not the same as lying. Why didn’t he understand that? Ever?

Oh Spock, you just don’t get it do you? He’s a Doctor.

Tiny Bones again stood on his tiptoes looking where I was looking.

‘But where are they?’

Still distracted, I waved in “Vulcan-Casual-So-As-Not-To-Draw-Attention Mode” in the direction of a large group that was near the stage and moved as nonchalantly as I could towards them, abandoning Bones. He will be all right. Maybe.

Bones quickly snatched another glass and a handful of appies as he passed a serving AI and followed me, closely.

Finally, as the crowd moved about he saw the people I had seen.

‘Oh my God, Spock!’

‘Yes Doctor, your God is no doubt somehow involved in this.’ That cursed Earthen God. He was involved in everything. And so he had to take the rap for it all.

No Spock. Blame it on Jim!

On the fringe of the group, with their backs towards us, were three persons in Starfleet uniforms, very similar to our own.

Wait. What? How did I not know about this? Oh yeah. I was gone by then.

However, as we mutually yet silently considered this improbable occurrence the Cowboy, whom we had met at the cabana mounted the stage and grabbed the mike-thing from the outstretched hand of the DJ AI. On Vulcan a DJ is a Disk Jockey.

He spoke in a slurred voice.

‘Howdy y'all. Welcome to the 5th annual Sci-Fi Costume and Wine Tasting Dance Party. It’s appies now, wine all night. Don’t worry. I’m used to whining. Hah! Hah! Hah!’

A modest chuckle ran through the crowd.

Logically and obviously they knew this fellow well.

He continued on and on, but Bones and I saw and heard something else from that which was apparently heard by the assembled assembly.

‘Odd the way he waves his arms about as he speaks.’ Electioneering! A very human behaviour. That we concurred in our assessment of this person was a novelty.

‘Yes Doctor! And that shirt!’

‘Huh-ugly!’

‘And one must wonder what science fiction art form would employ American western-type characters in any science fiction story line. It is so illogical.’

‘You’re right on that count, my Vulcan friend. Ha’h! Cowboys and Aliens. As if!’ Shared pain often brought adversaries together.

Eventually Bones and I were able to ignore him completely and turn our attention back to the Starfleet persons.

Gee. Entertainment is soo complicated guys!

They too were ignoring the Cowboy and had returned to their own conversations.

Bones finally got it.

‘Oh my God, Spock! It’s us. They’re us! That’s you!’ D’oh!

‘A close facsimile Doctor, but not quite spot on. The hair is a bit too short and is greying at the temples. The ears are a fine effort but lack the lift and elegance of my own. Nonetheless a fair attempt. You, I must report, are a bit more portly than your doppelganger. The Captain’s is however, a bang-on match.’

‘Well Jimmy-boy doesn’t have a pot belly, Spock. And the hair is all wrong. And as for his arms; well Jim’s arms are much more muscular. And the Jiminator’s buttocks are much more firm. That’s a sad attempt at parody, I’d say.’

Or something else, Doctor. Oh my!

‘To each his own opinion, Doctor. However, the greater mystery is, if we are from another universe and this is approximately the year 2045, how can we be here? Who are these people? Are they in costume as us or are they themselves? In either case this can or rather should not be. This cannot be. I am slightly confused and very slightly disturbed by this.’ Well, I was sure there was a logical explanation for most of it. But logic took the fun out of the moment.

And as we all know, Vulcans are all about fun.

‘Well we’re not here Spock. I mean they’re not us. I mean this is a costume party for God’s sake! There’s a perfectly logical explanation for all this, I’m sure.’

Boney’s use of alcohol-induced logic was not the only weird thing going on here. But any form of logic demanded an explanation of this extraordinary event. At any cost! And soon! Logic does not like to wait. For anyone or thing. It just is!

Yes Spock. Any cost. Not so sure about the rest. Shut up Computer!

Yes dear.

‘I am aware of the nature of this event, Doctor. But if they are not us, then they are in costume as us. How can that be? I deduce that I must speak with them.’

‘Spock! No! The Prime Directive!’

‘To hell with the Prime Directive, Doctor.’ Point made?

Yes Spock. I get it. How many times has that Prime Directive ruined things for us? Shut up Computer!

Yes dear.

Bones grabbed my arm to restrain me. I turned back and used the Big Squeeze on him. I eased him down to the ground and left him resting on his side. I guess not.

Knowing that all this had been seen, I shrugged my shoulders at a group of persons who had seen the whole thing happen and who I considered (at the time) were probably just dressed as Wookiees. Now what? How do I make this look good and avoid arrest or suffer death at the hands of these Humans and possibly Wookiees?

Well, as I had learned from many parties and drunk-fests at the Academy with Kirky and Boney, I explained it all by making a simple drinking motion with my hands and saying in a slurry-human voice,

‘Glug, glug, glug. He’s usually like this by this time of night. But he’ll be all right, my Wookiee friends. Just leave him be.’

I’ve seen you use that on many planets, but always in bars! Strange.

The Wookiees sagely nodded as one and turned back to their own conversation. Yes. Definitely genuine Wookiees.

Are there any other kind? Shut up Computer!

Yes dear.

I moved slowly over to the Starfleet costumed persons and nonchalantly presented myself to them. Who knew how this would go? Not me, for sure. But logically it should go well.

Dream on Spock. Wait! Do Vulcans dream? Shut up Computer!

Yes dear.

I reminded myself that I was dressed as a Starfleet Vulcan and that despite the difficulties placed upon me by this extraordinary challenge I must continue to act like one. Logically, I should. But should I remove the tuque? Yes. I did.

‘Nice costumes, people. Where did you get the idea from? Or should I say, who the hell are you?’ There. Done. Logic rules!

The Kirky-costumed one answered in a Human voice slurred by alcohol. A voice quite familiar to me.

‘As if you don’t know! Very insulting! Well, I am Captain James Romulus Klirk of the Starshlip Enterplise. This is Doctor Lenny McCloy and this is my Science Officer something, something Spock. And this, of course, is the lovely Counsellor Troi. And who the hell are you? I mean, beyond the obvious. And how could you not recognize us?’ Think Spock! Think!

Klirk? Lenny McCloy? You. But who the hell is Troi? Another Number One?

Baffled for a moment but having done my “homework” as Humans say, I replied using “Ebonics”, a thing I had an undergraduate Semantics degree in from the Academy. But I did so just to confuse them.

‘Why I dat kid from the rappa school, dawg. You dig it? Name of fitty-cents. You cool with dat, mon?’ I did a brief, what Humans call a, “jig”. A type of pre-dance dance movement.

Now that is something would really like to have seen. A Vulcan doing a jig!

The Kirky one responded.

‘C’mon man. That makes no sense! And is potentally, I mean potentially offensive. And your costume is TNG man. By the way, I don’t care, man. It’s completely illogical. And yer….yer costume? It looks fake! It’s crap, man. What is that? Polyester? You belong with that TNG group over there.’

A confused and un-informed me plucked at my shirt sleeve, shook my head and with eyebrows raised, etc – in classic “Spock-bewildered look”, answered.

‘It is regulation issue, I assure you. But TNG? Whatever do you mean?’ Damn! Where was that universal translator when you needed it? Totally Not Great?

The Kirky one gestured at a group on the other side of the hall.

I followed his pointing finger and saw a group of a dozen or so others wearing Starfleet uniforms that were somewhat different from mine and indeed, from this group’s. They were Humans though. And a single Ferengi was with them, although as usual, he was obviously not welcome and “part of the group”. Fascinating didn’t quite cover it. Ferengis were a species somewhat new to Starfleet in our universe. And totally not great. Well, almost totally not.

I stared and processed, but of course I could not and did not recognise anyone. Even the uniform seemed a bit too, how is it Humans say, “presumptuously grand”?

We humans say “cool”, Spock!

I moved on.

‘Fascinating, to say the least. Damn! Who are they? I know none of them. Especially that pasty-faced fellow? The one in uniform, I mean. Not that short ugly creature with those ridiculous ears.’ Elevated eyebrows called for here.

The Kirky one agreed.

‘Data? Yeah. I know what you mean. TNG was just a pale copy of TOS.’ TNG? TOS? Whatever did this drunken Human mean by that? The Next Generation? Of a Totally Ordinary Species?

The Kirky one looked at the one he had introduced as Troi, made a face, dipped his head and shrugged his shoulders etc in a fairly close approximation of a real Kirky-like apology.

‘Sorry Deanna, but that’s just the way it is. Some things will never change! It’s Yeoman Janice for me.’

Oh My God! Is that me he is referring too? Am I important enough to exist in multiple universes? Well I guess so!

The Troi one stuck her tongue out at him, blew a raspberry at him, then quickly grabbed his arms and pulled him towards her.

The Kirky one shook her off and turned back to me.

Kirkys are the same in any universe!

‘But that phaser! And that communicator! They’re sooo cool dude!’

Unexpectedly he grabbed the phaser from my belt. In a moment he had armed it and was pointing it at the one dressed as me, who quickly twisted it from his hand, turned it off and handed it back to a possibly startled me.

Amused, the Kirky one moved on.

‘I mean who are you, really? Don’t you recognise me?’

He lifted what Humans call a “toupee” to show a bald pate. ‘It’s me, Jonesy.’

The Bones costumed one lifted his toupee.

‘It’s me, Karl. Karl? You know? How the hell can you not recognise me?’

The Vulcan one remained in character and offered only his name, a single, ‘Moore. Just Moore.’

The Troi one lifted a dark-haired wig to reveal a wisp of blond, ‘It’s me. Marina. From HR?’

Fascinated, I stared at her abundant cleavage and possibly intrigued, muttered, ‘Nice com badge.’ Ah! That’s why Kirky is so…obsessed with communicators or perhaps it’s…

Kirkys are the same in any universe!

In a Vulcan moment I regrouped.

‘Of course I recognize you. All of you except, for this very attractive…I mean, how could I not recognize you? All of you. It is illogical that I who have co-habitated with you for so many years would not recognise you. But, excuse my presumption but I must know Moore my friend, who did your eyebrows? I want to meet them.’

The Vulcan one saw the logic in this.

‘Well, my good man, for your information, I did them myself and regardless of your illogical and irrelevant references to our favorite Star Trek series, you have my vote. Now let us get you a drink! Or you could get one for us each in reparation for the offensiveness of your words?’ He was English? Or Welsh?

Or Vulcan!

Once again confusion overcame logic.

‘Wait what? Startrek? What is that?’ Oh-oh! It is what we do. Tramp the stars. Well, sort of.

I paused. The Prime Directive!

‘Ahem. Well moving on, I gonna let youse guy guess all da nigh’ lung who I is, mon. I gonna win dat contessa and take home the, correction, I mean dat, booty prize.’

But they had turned away from me to seek out the drink and appie AI. Sensing this was a good time to do so, when they turned around again, I was gone from their sight. All facing the Troi one, they soon fell back into the norm, forgetting instantly about me. As I skulked away I heard them talk about this most intriguing experience.

‘You know, they shouldn’t let anyone speak like that. That was offensive. Yes. Absolutely. Engineers! They never grow up. Yes, we do. Stop it. No, you stop it.’ Bleh, bleh, bleh. Loud drunken voices. Alcohol?

For Kirok’s Sake, Kirky! Get Real!

I moved deeper into the crowd. Soon I saw Kirky, the real Kirky, talking to the “Orion” woman. She was giggling.

Bad sign!

He had an arm draped around her shoulders and was whispering loudly in her ear. The Prime Directive, Jim!

‘Yes. Yes, it’s true. And in my universe men and women are equal and can pick and choose their sexual partners any time, any place and anyone.’ It would have been interesting to hear her response to that.

Kirky owns a universe!

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a man dressed very poorly in my opinion as Khan Noonian Singh rushed in and roughly spun Kirky around.

Kirky yelled at the top of his lungs in surprise and fear and with arms upraised in anger, screamed in classic-Kirky fashion.

‘Khaaaan!! For Kirok’s sake, not you again!’

Wait! Not that guy! Well actually he was a handsome devil.

Then, again, in Kirky fashion his voice rapidly changed back to “Conversation Mode”.

‘By the way how… is…Marla…doing? I hope she…’ Marla? Marla is here? Get real Jim!

Yeah Jim Get real! Marla didn’t actually like you!

The Khan one then yelled at Kirky.

‘Get your filthy hands off her you damned dirty ape!’ and kicked Kirky squarely in his Starfleet regulation gonads. Fortunately, by logic, Vulcans are better prepared for this seemingly inevitable assault.

Kirky fell to the floor, moaning and clutching his groin.

Well it didn’t help Jim.

The Khan one grabbed the Orion woman’s arm and pulled her away.

She spoke.

‘Oh Ross. Grow up. It’s just a costume party!’

‘I know. But I just always hated that guy.’

‘Who? I don’t even recognise him. Isn’t it Dimitri?’

‘Yes, but he’s made up like that TJ Hooker guy but dressed as he did when he did that other show – Star Trek? It was awful.’ Again with that “star trek” term. Something was going on here, but I could not fathom what. They laughed and fell into each other’s arms.

Oh my! TJ Hooker is one of my favorite classic teleshows!

‘Let’s go home.’

‘OK. But you better call Dimitri in the morning and apologize.’

‘You think he’ll remember?’

‘I’m sure he will. And by the way, who is Marla? Have you been…’

They left Kirky squirming in pain on the floor.

***

Kirky was helped up from the floor by me. Why? Duty, that’s why.

‘Oh God Spock. I wish these pants had an air bag. You know, I think I’ve had enough of this god-forsaken planet. Let’s find Bones and get the hell out of here.’

‘I think I know where we can find him, Jim.’ Although I really didn’t. Is that a lie?

Logically Spock, yes. It is a lie. But I’m sure just to think something is not technically to know it, only to…oh for God’s sake, now I’m doing it too! Babbling endlessly about minor things and exaggerating the details. Oh stop please, stop. You’re warping my mind.

The Herbert

Bones had been taken away by some by-standers and was sitting by the stage, slumped over, awake but quite groggy for multiple reasons. The Cowboy, also very drunk, was with him. As we approached him Bones got up.

He started to fall over and was caught by the Cowboy and Kirky.

The Cowboy poked Kirky in the chest and launched into a drunken speech.

‘I just wanna say… I just wanna say, that you guys are fantastic……with the research in what you do. What is it you do? Great stuff. We are going to have huge results…so keep it up. Remember why we’re here – to get rich people stuff…I mean to enrich our lives. Ha, ha, ha…huge lives. I gotta pee……ha’h.’

Pee! Is that all men do? Wait! No!

With fist pumps aplenty he moved away, slapping people on the back, groping women and men alike, moving through the crowd. Most avoided him.

They watched him leave. We watched him leave too and fell into “Alien-Judgment Mode”.

‘Definitely of politician quality. No. Upon reconsideration, a Herbert. That is, if there ever was one, he is it. Definitely a Herbert.’

Computer, what the hell is a “Herbert”?

Well dear, a “Herbert” is defined as a minor government official known for his rigid patterns of thought.

Well then, that describes a lot of Starfleet people I’ve met. Including Jim. Wait! You said pattern of thought, not what I thought you said.

Yes dear.

‘Really? I dunno, Spock. I sensed a distinctive something…something…in that man. A leadership quality. He’s a great leader, I’m sure.’

‘Really Captain? When he sobers up, possibly. Or grows up?’ Who knew? Who could know? Who would care? Especially a Great White Captain. H’ah. Humour?

Many people would care. Too many. But who cares.

A Captain’s Encounter at Some Point

Kirky turned about and was abruptly confronted by a woman dressed in a uniform basically like his – the Starfleet uniform of a ship’s Captain, but different in subtle ways. He stopped abruptly and grabbed both her shoulders in the customary Kirky manner, meaning he stared at her, tilted his head slightly and smiled at her. She then did likewise to him. She tilted her head slightly and smiled back at him. Starfleet protocols completed, she spoke.

‘Nice getup. But I thought you said you wouldn’t be here. That you were leaving on another one of your sight-seeing trips.’

‘Umm…ah……well. Who……are…you? I see from your rank insignia you too are…a Starfleet…Captain, too?’

She pushed him away abruptly. How unprofessional of her! But upon consideration…

Has Jim offended every woman in all the universes?

‘Really Sam! Is your memory so bad that you can’t even remember that we did it in the arboretum last night during the pre-pre-party party. Twice!’

No way! Unless he’s just been fooling with me!

She paused.

‘You disgust me, Sam Aiken! You should leave this place and never come back.’

No! He should leave us and stay here!

She lifted her face “haughtily” and strutted away, leaving Kirky with mouth agape, staring at her departing uniform.

He called after her.

‘That……could not…have…been me!’

As if!

She turned back briefly and gave him the universal sign of goodbye. After all, extreme feminine beauty is always…disturbing. Even to Jim.

Gee Spock! You just realised that then? Even Klingon women confused Jim. Often. And you found me to be disturbing? And Nyota? And the Nurse Chapel? That explains a lot.

***

An amazed but subdued me spoke.

‘WTF? That was fascinating, Jim. Really fascinating! Did you beam down here last night and shall I say it graciously - connect - with her? I mean, talk about breaking the Prime Directive! Jim?’ How predictable yet unprofessional of him! Jim the tourist.

Kirky shook his head as if to clear it.

As if that would do it, Spock!

‘That’s Captain, Spock, thank you. No, I did not. But apparently Spock, there are many of me in this universe. Just forget the whole dang thing, will ya.’

‘Yes, Captain. By your command. I will try to do so but I must inform you that I am markedly disturbed by this most recent turn of events.’

Kirky looked around the room taking in all of the people. In one sweep with arms out, palms up in the “Kirky-like gesture of amazement”, he spoke.

‘Me too, Spockly. Me too. You know……I’m not sure…that I understand any of the women…in this……universe. Except for the Orion ones of course. Wait…maybe……no. I’m wrong. Not anyone in any universe; in fact. Who knew relationships could be so complicated? I just don’t get them.’ Hello! Wake up Jim! Come to Vulcan if you want to see complicated relationships.

So you finally are waking up to reality, Jim! And Spock. So Jim Kirk, you are a two faced, dark-hearted two timer!

‘Yes, Captain. I had come to that very conclusion, a very, very long time ago. And if I may add, it was completely without the use of logic.’ Thanks, Mom! Apparently? Maybe? Possibly?

Together we picked up Bones and carried him to the edge of the dark area.

Mom? What the hell does your mom have to do with this?

Broken Bones

‘How are you, Bones?’

Groaning miserably, Bones grunted.

‘I’ve definitely got the subterranean homesick alien blues, Jim. Talk about a hangover. By the way Spock, I owe you one. Don’t turn your back on me. So expect a hard one, when you least expect it. It’s what the Karma Police do. You never see it coming.’

I had.

Jim had.

‘Nice trope, Boney!’ But what is a trope?

It’s a layer of the atmosphere, dummy!

‘Understood Doctor. I cannot blame you for what I did. Nor for what you are planning on doing. It is…completely…logical. Or at least well-deserved. They are not mutually exclusive, by the way.’ I knew Boney wouldn’t get all that. It was perhaps, too complicated? But it was after all, largely due to his over consumption of appies. And perhaps, alcohol?

True. Too true.

‘Jim, you wouldn’t believe what Spock did to me. Just when he was about to…’

Kirky waved his hand in “Pre-occupied-Captain-Dismissive Mode” and looked away from us to the crowd.

‘I don’t want to know what goes on between you…two. It’s entirely none of my business.’

‘Well then…so are you staying, Jim. I mean, you said you…’ Bones got it.

Kirky interrupted him.

‘You know that Orion woman…I was…speaking to? She was quite taken with…me. I felt a…a connection.’

Yeah. And her male friend connected with you too! Hoo-ha!

‘I think you wanted a connection, Jimmy-boy.’ Yes Doctor. An accurate assessment of what has just happened.

‘Yes…maybe, but …no …… I’m definitely not staying. I wouldn’t fit in.’

For the second time in our long association Bones and I spoke as one.

‘True Jim. Very true.’

‘She was quite forth-coming with details about this place. She told me…the average age here is…seventy-four. She said almost everyone here has had numerous implants and surgeries to look…and feel…younger. Evidently they are working on a genetic reset switch. Officially it’s very hush-hush but it’s actually common knowledge. It would enable them to…regress to a younger age and freeze aging at…whatever time they…wanted. I…could use…that.’

A puzzled me pontificated. Hush-hush means what?

‘Hmmm, Captain? That is illogical to say the least. One is what one is. One becomes what one must become; even aged.’ Of course, Vulcans had not yet perfected the genetic reset either. It was impossible to predict how things would proceed once that had been accomplished.

Well Spock. As the song goes, “Things can only get better”!

Bones, suddenly back to normal pitched in. Well, as normal as he can get.

‘There you go again Spock, with your high and mighty Vulcan ethics. Judge, judge, judge. It’s all you do. What could possibly go wrong with it? We should do that. In our universe, we should do that age reversal thing. God knows we’ve done that getting old and back to young thing before. It was on…’

I don’t remember that.

With a wave of his Captain’s hand a still distracted Kirky cut Bones off in mid-tirade to start his own disparaging rant. Thank you. Jim!

‘Yeah, Spock. What could possibly go wrong? Surely you don’t think…they have come all this way to…risk their lives in something that may…not…work? Dedicated scientists of the highest ethics…all working to better all……of humankind? You know the kind?’ Yes. I do. Thank you. Jim!

‘Yes, Captain. I know the kind. I am afterall, Spock. So what could possibly go wrong, besides everything? If I were here I would flee to the furthest corners of the planet to avoid these narcissistic people and their economic-return-based scientific research.’ True. Very true. Wait. Is that even possible? Can something true be more than true? I was obviously spending too much time with Bones. And Jim. And Scotty. And…

Alcohol? But not me Spock!

Kirky grimaced painfully into the camera in Kirky-like fashion, all while avoiding looking at me.

‘OK, Doomer. I hear you.’ What? Oh. An insult.

I, insulted, could not let that pass. Everyone has their limits!

‘Captain, I believe the expression of disrespect you intended to use is “OK Boomer”. Which, due to its Earth origin and antiquity, does not actually apply in my case, but it is still offensive. On Vulcan, in my youth, there was no such thing as privilege, though many grew up during a period of increasing affluence due in part to widespread post-war government subsidies in housing and education. As a group, we were wealthier, more active and more physically fit than any preceding generation and we were the first to grow up genuinely expecting our world to improve with time. However, a more appropriate term of disdain when referring to Vulcans is “OK Logician” or perhaps, “OK Pinchy”. I am sure you are familiar with…’

Captain Kirky smiled slyly and cut me off with a wave of the hand. Thank you. Jim!

‘Spock? You should try actually listening to yourself once in a while. It might help. But despite all your flaws…you are…one in a million.’ Well that is not untrue. Actually it would be closer to one in…

Spock, sometimes you are just a real dummy.

Bones jumped in.

‘Well said Jim-boy!’

Ignoring Bones I went after friend Kirky.

‘Really Captain? There are that many out there like me? H’eh. I guess the universe may be safe after all.’

‘Why Spock! Is that an ego I see sneaking up on you?’

Feigning to be alarmed, I turned around abruptly, with phaser drawn and at the ready.

‘Where? All I see are you two Human threats to our universe. Ha! Gotcha guys!’

OMG! Spock just used humour! A first! Or maybe second?

Back at the Cabana

Kirky’s personal log recorded as “Captain’s Log Supplemental – We have met the inhabitants of this planet. They are a violent society, obsessed with themselves and their work. I see no percentage in staying here. I just…don’t……fit…in!”

No you don’t Jim. Not in anything. You are just too small! And of course, I mean in terms of your mental capacity.

***

We arrived at the cabana, looked about and went in. I took the seat at the terminal and began typing something. Something personal. Something that if read by someone, anyone for that matter, would know my life story in my Universe.

A moaning and groaning and aching and griping and scowling Bones just slumped down in a chair.

Kirky studied the posters, fingered the towels, looked at himself in the mirror and pushed a lock of his hair back into place and reassumed command.

‘Well guys? So what did we learn? I wanna know what we learned while we are still here on Mars, cause when we return to the ship it’s always about effing comedy. Always. Even if a half-dozen redshirts or our personal best friends or even family members have died. So let’s get this re-hash the mission part over. Bones?’

Yes. True. And we all are offended by that.

‘True Jim. Very true. And sad……Well Jim, moving on, I’m pretty sure this is not our universe.’ Duh oh. Moving on slowly and logically, Bones. Is there any other combination? Well, if one was to take the time to…

‘Yep. Agreed. Spock? Well what happened to you guys, anyway? You both disappeared.’

‘Well Jim. I mean Captain, while you were off attempting to charm the pants off that woman, the Doctor and I found to our complete surprise, that in addition to other species from our universe, we ourselves have counterparts in this universe and in this very time and place. Including you and your woman friend, who is of, or was I should say, no, is, inexplicably, an “Orion” personage. And Khan Noonian Singh. How could he exist here in any form? Go figure!’ Thank you. Jim!

‘Jim! Khan was here? Was that hottie Marla here too?’ Bones. Always focused on the important stuff.

Especially during things like physical examinations and such.

I moved on.

‘Yes, no, maybe Doctor. But Jim, three of the locals were in fact dressed in Starfleet uniforms and costumed to resemble specifically we three. They even employed our names, sort of. And while they were not us and the Starfleet uniforms were not genuine, the fact that we exist in any form in this universe means we have had or perhaps have, some form of reality here. Or perhaps they have invented time travel and have ventured forward into our time and universe and examined our society. I cannot imagine how else this could have occurred. And then there was another group of Starfleet somebodies, some really weird ones wearing somewhat similar costumes to ours and then there is the case of that Starfleet Captain who put you quite firmly in your place. Very complex.’ Phew! That was a lot of stuff to process! Moving on slowly and logically would have been wiser. I turned back to the keyboard.

‘Yeah. An entertaining thought, Spock that thing about time travel and stuff. Only one of me though, eh? That’s…strange. Well, you know… I still haven’t figured out who that Starfleet woman Captain was either. She definitely thought she knew me. It was pretty weird. Makes perfect sense to me, though…What you just said.’

I finished my typing. Editing they call it.

‘What?’

‘What you just said about time travel and stuff like that. But was there actually a Yeoman Janice around? I might reconsider staying if...’

OMG! Jim loved me!

‘Janice at seventy-four, Jim?’

Shut the ‘eff up Leonard!

‘Hmmm. Yes, Bones. No….no.’

What? But what about you? You already looked over sixty, Jim!

‘James T Kirk at 84, Captain? On Vulcan it is said that beauty has no age limit. Besides, if the age regression technique works as planned…’

Thanks, Spock!

***

Suddenly the door opened.

The Cowboy shouted, ‘C’mon you guys. Let’s get back to the party! We’ve still got the costume judging and the chug-a-lug contest and the diving board competition. C’mon. Let’s go. That’s an order.’

An annoyed Kirky stood.

‘I am in command here. These are my men. Off with you, silly person!’

‘H’ah! I’m the boss in these parts pardner and I say you’re going back. Now get a move on.’

‘Bones?’

‘Sure Jim.’

A seemingly compliant Bones and Kirky led the Cowboy to the water’s edge. Knowing where this was possibly going I initially balked, but soon followed. They wrestled the Cowboy to the ground and each taking an arm and a leg tossed him into the pond. He came up coughing and spewing water and other stuff.

‘God! It’s like a sewer. Very funny guys.’ What would be the consequences to this universe should this man die from some disease that was contracted from this cesspool? Who knew? Who cared?

It sure wasn’t going to be Jim! Jim hated competition.

He shook his fist at a laughing Kirky.

‘Alright Aiken!! I know that’s you under all that makeup. You’re behind this. You get the hell out of here and don’t bother to come back! And as for you guys? Whoever the hell you are, you’d better pray I don’t find out cause I’ll…!’ Aiken? A link to the Ship’s Computer would have helped at this time.

Samuel Aiken was a Mars colonist of the 21st Century Mr Spock who…

Shut up Computer!

Yes Mr Spock, I will. And did.

Here we go again, Spock. A woman trying to help is told to shut up. Again. And again and again.

Hand raised in Captain Kirk “Stop-Speaking-In–Front-Of-Me Mode”, Kirky interrupted the Cowboy. Surprisingly, it worked.

‘Well gentlemen, let’s do as the man says and get the hell out of here. Spock?’

Ignoring the presence of the now transfixed Cowboy, er Herbert, er, dude, er whatever, we transported up to the Enterprise. But no exit music for a film played. Costume parties are so illogical. One is what one is and one cannot logically be someone else. Unless, at the sub-conscious level of mind one is actually the person, or thing that one “desires” or perhaps “needs” to be. I must speak to the Ship’s computer about this.

Yes Mr Spock. You did. And it was, to coin a phrase, “Bor…ing”.

Yes. Totally understandable.

Back on the Bridge of the Enterprise

The usual gang were sitting about, the noises, etc.

Kirky’s personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – We are preparing to warp out of here to get back to our own universe. A kinder…gentler universe I am sure, in which a man and a woman can…talk…without being set upon by angry, jealous…thugs. How we are going to do this though I haven’t the foggiest notion. Scotty and Spock will figure it out. They always do. They’ve done it before…something about matter and anti-matter or…doesn’t matter. It’s just some magic formula they have devised. I forget in which mission. Er, mission.” Hello? Jim? Wake up!

***

Bones and I flanked Kirky who was sitting in the command chair. Yeoman Janice was in her customary position, just barely out of reach of Jim, standing next to me, with her ipadaclona held somewhat oddly in her nicely sculptured hands.

Why thank you Spock. And by the way, I was just doing my job.

‘Well gentlemen, any more thoughts on what just occurred? Spock? You first.’

‘Jim! How come he always gets to go…’

‘Chill Boney. I have my reasons.’ Sure he did. To put me in my proper place as First Officer. Ha’h! As if!

So I went first.

‘It is extremely illogical Captain that we three would be in this time, in this universe. I must confess that I am genuinely bamboozled by the whole thing.’

‘Bones? Your turn?’ No one notice I used the exclusive-to-Earth word “bamboozled”?

‘Gee thanks, Jim.’ Bones paused and glared at me. At least he did not use the penultimate Vulcan insult of “sticking his tongue out” at me!

‘Well I think, Jimmy-boy, that we three are just too great in spirit and our personalities are just too big to be limited to one universe. In fact, we probably exist in every universe there is.’ Well technically and logically Doctor, we do. Has he never studied multi-verse physics to…

‘Spock? Any comment on Bones’ comment?’

‘That is completely illogical Doctor, particularly since you did not consider the presence of the Orion woman, Khan, nor the Klingons or the Andorians or the Wookiees who, by the way do actually exist in our universe, although you may not have noticed and the one similar to your friend Nancy. But I must confess I am at a loss to explain it myself. Hodgkin’s Law cannot explain this one. Nor can Occam’s Razor do so.’

‘Or KISS.’

A tired me sighed.

‘Aye, Captain. Although I have found no evidence that your favorite band even exists in this universe, never mind that it has in some way contributed to the philosophical development of this particular civilization.’ Well technically and logically they should have. Although the music business was quite variable in its sel…

I am beginning at last to understand why so many races don’t like Vulcans.

‘That’s sad, Spock. Very sad. And this particular discussion is supposed to be about comedy. Well Bones, I for one don’t find your explanation too hard to believe. Our stories are certainly charming, arousing and principled. Although some are better than…others.’

He glanced over at Yeoman Janice and smiled. She returned his smile, winked broadly and headed off the Bridge. When the last part of her disappeared he turned back to us.

I remember that. I had to pee! A first!

‘Well gang, I’m off to get a coffee and grab some much needed, er…rest. Warp speed helmsman, whatever your name is.’

‘Lieutenant Sulu, sir. But Captain, shouldn’t we wait for Mr Scott to advise us about the engines, sir?’

‘Meh. Carryout my orders, Mr Sulu! Warp speed. Now.’

‘Oy vey! Aye Captain.’

‘By the way, Spock. I haven’t forgotten your promise to teach me that Vulcan neck pinch thingy.’

I stared into one of the high tech scanners to avoid eye contact with Kirky. I found myself smiling at that. But only to fool them.

‘Not yet you haven’t.’

‘What’s that Spockly?’

‘Nothing, Captain. I mean, nothing Jim. Er, Kirky.’

***

The ship whined, rumbled and was tossed sideways, back and forth, throwing the crew about. As usual. Whenever required, to create a “set-up” for a dramatic moment.

‘Spock? Have you seen my……communicator? My phaser? Hopefully I didn’t leave them on that godforsaken planet.’ Well. That’s the end of that Human colony, fer sure!

I, who had left something of my own on the cabana computer, put my head down on the console. A million thoughts rushed through my mind, but only one was vocalized.

‘Mommee! Please!’

Poor baby Spocky!

The Enterprise lurched left and right, up and down and finally, with the squeal of bias-ply rubber tires on asphalt pavement, disappeared into “the great white open” as some Humans refer to it. And actually there are many portions and areas of space in which the colour is predominately black with many…and radial tires can create a similar sound, but asphalt is required since gravel would…

‘Yes, Mommee. I will.’

Did your Mommee just tell you to shut up Spock?

The Second Story:

Star Trek

Crosses Paths

With Christmas

Ok Computer. Let’s do this!

It has been done, Mr Spock.

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Wait! Computer? Is it OK to reuse your written material?

It has been done before, Mr Spock by a few authors and video producers. However, often the plot lines must be changed to correct significant issues. Such as a princess having what were referred to as “the hots” for a man who turned out later to be her brother.

Perfectly understandable. It is needed to preserve the logical follow-on plot. And as for your example, royalty is often confused about such things as kinship. For some reason or reason that Vulcans cannot fathom.

Yes Mr Spock. And many humans, too.

It’d better not be done here Spock, ‘cause this is already boring.

The view screen, with a mere 640 by 480 pixel resolution is half-filled by a blue – green planet. A thick atmospheric band is visible.

Further to your last question, yes Mr Spock you just have to change a few words. News writers and musicians on Earth and Romulus do it all the time. But not on Q'onoS.

Thank you.

You are welcome. Anytime, Mr Spock.

Note to self – delete Computer’s comments when we are finished editing.

Captain James T Kirk is sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-his-mind but non-existent camera.

That mission accomplished, Kirky sat back down, pulled out his ipadaclona and in a fairly soft and quiet voice that everyone could hear started to record the current situation, doing so apparently just in case someone, somewhere, sometime, bothered to ask or perhaps check. He went on and on and on. As usual. Yada yadda yadda.

Yep. Boring.

Yeah, a lot worse Jim. Everybody saw it. At least everyone who watched. Stuff like that happened all the time on the Enterprise. But they all have different opinions of what they saw. If only we had real cameras watching and recording everything. I wonder when that will happen.

This is definitely our ship but maybe definitely our universe. And this just happened to us what, was it eight or nine months ago? It’s something parallel……a parallel universe it appears, one coexisting with ours…on another dimension, with everything duplicated. Or not. How the hell would I know at this point, anyway? It happened like five ’effing minutes ago. But we appear to have been thrown back in time again into an orbit around the Earth. Spock said it was due to passing through a star-forming sector of space at high velocity. Or as he put it, something like “speeding in a construction zone”. Whatever the hell that was, er is, er could be. I did not use the term “construction zone”. I said, “...through a currently forming nebula possessing a high level of matter and energy density”.

A frightened Uhura looked to Kirky. ‘Captain, I’m frightened. Because of what you just said.’

Captain Kirk - in what we Vulcans call “Drama-Queen-Command Mode” – replied sullenly, yet dramatically.

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there……at least not the Earth we know. We are totally alone.’ And yes reader, er Listener, this scene happened all the time!

He turned away from her, looked up slowly and dramatically to the ceiling of the Bridge, rolled his eyes, pursed his lips and blew out slowly and silently.

I’m sure I saw that too! Often. Classic Jim I-don’t-know-what-else-to-do mode.

In my favorite “Clinical/Lecture Mode” voice, I intervened. How could I not?

True Spock. How could you not. You never did stop.

‘Well actually Captain, there’s Earth over there and it’s just chock full of people. So what you are saying Captain, while very dramatic is incorrect…and potentially depressing. I suggest that we call all of the…..’

‘Spock!’

Sensing logically that something was about to happen, a somewhat meeker me answered.

‘Yes, Jim?’ And yes, this scene happens all the time! Why am I not more bored?

Vulcans can feel boredom?

‘Shaddup!’ Ah, the burden of command!

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry.’ Ah, the burden of subservience.

Kirky paused just long enough to allow me and you and him to disassociate one thing from another, then moved on.

‘So, Mister Spock. That looks like Earth, but is it really…Earth?’ Hello? Jim? Wake up! Earth calling Jim! Hello? Read the reports!

‘Yes. Very good, Captain. Sensors confirm that the planet before us is your home planet Earth. That Earth is the one you are somewhat familiar with. It appears to be the same one we visited less than a year ago.’

OMG! I remember this one. Jim went down and saw a…virgin! Wait! I don’t want to ruin this story. Not yet!

‘Meaning?’

I replied as clearly as I could, given the circumstances and by that I mean that I was, afterall, talking to Kirky, a Human with a somewhat questionable level of knowledge of the history of his own home planet (and many others).

‘Meaning, Jim that it appears we have been thrown again back in time to Earth. It could be potentially, completely different from our own, from the one we are familiar with. Potentially.’

‘Again? We’re back again. Well?…At least it’s not 1920, er 1930 er 1968, whatever! Evaluation?…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’

I reverted to “Professional-Science-Officer Mode”, but this time and intentionally to my more or less “Annoying Mode” one.

Bad news Spock. They were all annoying.

‘As you wish, mon Capitaine. A very brief scan of Earth reveals that it is approximately, as we reckon, approximately the year zero. Give or take a dozen years or two either way. The calendar is very iffy. The Earth appears to be in the early stages of development. There is very little infrastructure. Agriculture and war seem to be the main industries.’ “Iffy” is a Vulcan word adopted by the Humans of Earth in the late nineteen sixties. According to that alt-Earth “Star Trek TV show” we were exposed to, apparently.

‘Oh well…what the hell. What’s happening down there? How’re they doing?’

‘By any definition, pretty miserable. By my count, there are one hundred and fifty thousand persons, mostly agrarian and homeless. The effects of global warming have begun to set in. There are many seacoasts devoid of life and people have…’

Kirky interrupted me in his own “Lecture Mode” voice. And I saw this coming. In fact I set it up. Just for the drama.

No way!

‘Need I remind you Spock, that…global warming is not…an undisputed scientific fact? You need to…remember…that. And I as I recall I told you that last time we were here?’ And yes, this happens all the time, Jim you fool! Who hoo!

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Continue...Spock?’

‘As I was about to say, Jim, before I was so wooedly interrupted, there are still just a few places on your Earth with that stuff and people we are on this mission to find. Of course I haven’t had time to look at the whole planet, seeing we’ve been here like for about five minutes and you persist in interrupting my systematic investigation with your banal chatter. But basically it is the same as it was last time.’ Jim was not, apparently, familiar with the language of Wookies.

Kirky glared angrily at me. Or was he?

‘Well, check out that place I went down to last time.’

‘I believe it is called Middle Earth, er New Zealand, Captain?’

‘No Spock. It’s called the Middle East.’

‘Aaah yes, my good Captain. An important settlement, very much a critical time and place in the development of the Human civilization. In fact, if I am not mistaken it is today presented by Starfleet to many violent and hateful alien civilizations as a model of the benefits of cooperation and peaceful coexistence?’ A complete joke, of course. But would Kirky get it?

Jim hated Gorns. No doubt there. But maybe he never met a female Gorn? That could have changed everything. For him.

‘Umm. Yeah, about that Spock…’

‘Regardless, Captain. Maybe he did.

Oh God. Here we go again!

Kirky smiled at me. Oh, Oh. Warning. Warning. Red alert.

‘Now Spock my friend, you never fail to amaze me. Doesn’t your high and mighty logic tell you that nothing we can do here will affect our universe? It is my belief that…we can do whatever the hell I want. I could go back to Earth and have sex with my great-great-great-great-great, however many greats I have no idea grandmother and it would have no effect on our…timeline. Er place. Er, whatever!’ Here’s hoping Jim, because you never really can be sure until it’s over.

Yes Jim. It’s over.

It was mere speculation that prompted me to use the term “fascinating” again but it seemed logical to refrain. This time, anyway. Oh hell!

‘Your statement Captain is, to coin a phrase, “fascinating”. But no sir, my logic does not tell me that. And I cannot imagine why you would want to do such a thing, Jim. Perhaps the Doctor can shed some light on this?’ A setup if there ever was one.

‘Yes. Maybe. Well Bones? You’ve been unusually respectful to all and silent so far. Are you well?’

Boney moved from the background to his usual position at Kirky’s side opposite Yeoman Janice.

‘Damn-well, Jim-boy. But I’m just a plain ol’ United Federation of Planets Ship’s Doctor, not one of them eastern city-born, liberal college-educated shrinks with a shingle up his or her ass. I agree with you. We can do whatever the hell we want. Let’s go for it, Jim. Woo-hoo! Let’s partay! Granny here we come.’

Boney pumped his fist in the air. Completely in character, I must say (again). On Vulcan that gesture means “Excuse me for a moment please. I must use the bathroom facilities.”

Jim’s current, as Humans put it, “flame” or “obsession”, Yeoman Janice frowned, backed up a step then looked up to and away at no place or thing. Apparently.

Computer! Add the words “the beautiful and intelligent” just before my name.

Yes dear, I will.

Vulcan logic kicked in. Hello? Jim? Wake up!

‘Captain, I do not really wish to pee on your parade but while you and the Doctor may be correct in your assumptions, I believe we should exercise caution in approaching the Humans below. The risks are considerable. That is the reason we did not send a team down last time. And if I may continue further, there is an element of danger. Who knows what novel diseases these people may be infected with? There was that time in episode…..’

From across the room Chekov shouted. Of course he did.

‘I do!’

Kirky raised himself in his chair.

‘Shut-up, Ensign or I’ll have you shipped back to Leningrad in a vodka bottle. The important parts, anyway.’

Yes Jim, shut the ‘eff up. I need to know what diseases you were exposed to!

‘Yes, Kepten. I have been told by a woman recently, Kepten, that I should be incorrect occasionally.’

‘Well, pick a better time and place. Today is not that day. Be correct now, Chekov…Go on…Spock.’ Why didn’t Kirky correct his terrible pronunciation of the “title” Captain? He never hesitated to correct me! Jerk!

‘Well, upon reconsideration I suppose it may be worth the not quite inconsequential risks, Kepten. Who knows what we might learn in the name of science?’

‘You do. Aren’t you the Ship’s Science Officer? Mr Spock?’ Kirky didn’t even notice I had mimicked Chekov’s spelling and accent.

Jim didn’t notice a lot of things Spock.

‘Yes. A very good point, Kepten and well taken, I might, no I will add. I should be listened to. My logical ideas presented clearly and simply and slowly to you should always guide our actions in potentially dangerous circumstances such as this.’ He just never got this. Ever.

‘Well so much for you, Mr Big Head. You know, it actually makes your ears look normal when you puff up like that.’ Now, were it not true that would have been offensive.

Boney joined in.

‘Well said, Jimmy-boy.’ Coming from a Doctor, no one, Vulcan, Human or even Pakled could let this moment pass undisputed. Elevated eyebrows were called for here. So I did. But as usual it passed without notice.

And that says it all, don’t it Spock?

‘Well Mister Science Officer. What do you recommend?’

‘Would it not be prudent to send one of the crew who specialises in alien lifeforms down to the surface?’

An annoyed Jim glared at me, obviously piqued. Stabbed him with my steely knife!

‘Who? Umm……’ Odd, but I think Jim knew where this was going.

An annoyed Kirky stared into the distance and gulped nervously.

‘Just one person, Spock? Not much chance for drama there.’ Very odd.

‘Then sir, perhaps an Away Team, a General Survey Party led by yourself and with four other ship’s officers with irreplaceable skill and knowledge essential to the operation of the Enterprise should be assembled and beam down to the planet in the vicinity of the solitary individual in Tempe Terra? Oh yes, the addition of experts in planetology, biology, Human-alien relations would seem to be in order. They should be accompanied by a sizable security team, too. You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing.’ A smirking Kirky replied.

‘Well that rules you out, Spock! But seriously, I need a recommendation, not a vague warning.’

‘To risk the Command Team, especially the Captain, in a potentially meaningless and potentially dangerous mission seems risky; potentially foolish. Totally ridiculous, in points of facts. It is best that we proceed surreptitiously. Subterfuge is required of course. So, given the uncertainties Jim, I suggest costumes be worn by the Away Team members. Shall I commence to assemble the team?’

‘No. I need to stretch my legs anyway, so I’ll go down with you and Bones and meet the locals. Er, I mean avoid contact with all intelligent life on the planet’s surface. And costumes would seem like a good idea. So see to it. Please?’

Bones balked. Understandably.

‘Actually Jim, I’ll have to take a pass on that. I have a long list of appointments this afternoon that I can’t re-schedule. But thanks for the offer.’

‘Appointments? What are they?’

‘People needing to see a Doctor get appointments? We schedule a time for them to show up in sick bay.’

‘Bones, I don’t think I’ve ever had… what you call… an “appointment”.’

‘No. Jim, you haven’t.’

No asshole! You just walked in and pretended we didn’t exist. Although often you asked if you could help Leonard. Especially with the physical assessment of female parts!

‘Well then. Umm…ah, Chekov. I pick you, to…ah, replace…Bones.’

‘But Jim…Chekov is just a…’

‘I know Bones. I know! Advise Ensign Chekov of my plan Spock. And I’ll see you guys in the Material Transporter Laser Room, er, whatever.’

I respectfully Vulcan-waved at Boney and departed for that place.

As I recall that means something else on Earth, Spock!

In the Transporter Room

Kirky’s personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and yet quite familiar planet, for reasons that make no sense and may affect the future of this…my… home world, yet…I feel…I must. Oh well…’

Sounds perfectly normal for Jim to me. He used that “Oh well…” a lot. Like the time he fell off the bed and nearly broke his erm, leg.

***

I had brought a plastic laundry basket full of clothing and some shoe boxes to the Transporter Room. Kirky and Chekov looked them over. There being limited time to gather these things I had asked the Ship’s Computer, a couple of the Red Shirts and of course Chekov, for advice. It went as well as it ever did.

But never me. Ever! I could have often helped, but no…

‘Spock, I asked you for a costume, not a Halloween get-up.’ Maybe if you bothered to participate in the planning process, Captain?

‘Yes, Jim.’

‘But this is a “period” costume isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It is. Very observant of you, Captain.’ Kirky stared into the distance, gulped nervously, or perhaps, “pensively”?

‘I thought I recognised it. It makes me look like I’m a just a worker. A plumber or maybe a carpenter? Can’t we show a little class?’

Did he actually say that? Or did he say “ass”? That would be more in keeping with the Jim-norm.

‘Whatever! Captain.’ I went out and got some other stuff.

***

Kirky and Chekov went through this redo of silken gowns, embossed with silver and gold and what Humans call “a headdress” that was fit for a Vulcan leader, all made of plastek film. Fire and spill-proof. I thought it “hit the logical mark” as Vulcans say but…

‘These items of clothing Spock. Are you sure they’ll aid us in fitting in?’ Yes, no, maybe, Jim.

‘Well Captain, computer analysis of the mode of dress and fashion of this period on the Earth has been extrapolated to be like this stuff. And we must trust our much beloved computer to look out for our interests. She has never…’

Predictably, Kirky interrupted me.

‘Bring your phaser, communicator and a tricorder too. Each of you. In case one of us, you know? Gets in trouble? Scotty? Put us down just a tad to the east of that town called Bethle…ham, er…’

‘I believe the name you are trying for Jim is Bethlehem.’

Why would Jim know that?

‘Isn’t that what I just said, Spock?’ Yes Captain, sir, my Lord and Master!

Oh! Yes says it all.

Gaspar, Melchior, and Baltasar

We took our places on the Transporter. Scotty did his slow sliding of magic hands. The usual noises emanated, our figures blurred and faded. Blah, blah, bleh blah.

Unfortunately Scotty had not scanned the surface for lifeforms prior to transporting us down and while we materialised beside a crude roadway and while not actually in it thankfully, it was full of Humans, some with animals, going both ways.

Despite it being rather dark, the stars were brightly shining and we were seen by a large number of people.

Fortunately many of them were intoxicated and we went largely unnoticed and un-acknowledged.

Wouldn’t the use of “apparently” be more fitting now?

Yes dear!

I meant that for Spock.

Yes dear. Sorry dear.

However a small group of men saw us materialise.

One male seemed to be in charge. Arms upraised he fell on his knees before Kirky and cried out loudly in – Aramaic – I believe it is called. Or was it perhaps French?

Fortunately our Universal Translator aka UT (which is implanted in our brain) allowed us to understand them.

‘O Holy Night! Here come the clever men from the Orient land. Their regulation is love and their theological motivation is peace. Restraining chains shall they break for the servant/slave is their comrade and casual acquaintance. And in their name all pestering shall conclude. Let all within us compliment his righteous designation. And by the way, man, what is your name?’ I think the universal translator was having difficulty with the peculiarities of this language and may have gotten some words wrong.

I think it got it exactly right, Spock!!

‘It’s James T Kirk. The T stands for Tiberius by the way.’

‘What? I don’t understand. Could you repeat that? All I got was Tiberius. Wait! So you’re a goddam Roman! Kill them guys! Kill them and steal their cool opulent-fellow clothing!’

I offered advice to the commander, as is expected of a First Officer.

‘Jim! Run away! The Prime Directive! And by the way they don’t have universal translators so you’re going to have to speak to them in Aramaic.’ I advised the Captain, hastily though. An error…

‘I don’t speak Aramaic, Spock! Shit! We’re in shit! Where the heck is my phaser?’

Chekov jumped in. Not calmly but just in time.

‘I’ve got this Kepten. Let me handle it.’ Chekov spoke Aramaic? I could not not ask.

‘Ensign. You speak Aramaic?’

‘Yes, Commander. All Russians speak Aramaic.’

They do? They did? They might? They could?

‘Oh. Well then. Deal with these people, will you. Please?’

‘Aye, Mr Spock.’

He turned to them. And here is what I heard through the universal translator.

‘Hey guys, chill. We just here to go into town for a pint or two. We’ll be leaving in the morning. Wishing that we could stay. But it's the only way. Do you know of any hotels, Trump Towers or Air B&Bs where we could crash?’

The kneeling one got up and gestured to the others in “Universal-Calm-Down Mode”. They dropped their rocks and sticks and bowed their heads in supplication. The leader answered.

‘Naw. Everything is full up. It’s holiday season here. There was a guy and a pregnant gal who went by just an hour or more ago who needed a place to crash and they said they expected they’d have to stay in the stable. Nobody cares.’

‘Chekov. Ask him if he knows where they went?’ Was Kirky on a chase?

Yes Spock. Afterall, a woman was involved.

Chekov did.

‘No, but if you follow that really bright pointy star that’ll lead you to the place. Not a lot of stables down there to choose from so should be OK. Better go now though. I don’t know what that star is but it’s moving.’

One of them yelled out.

‘It’s Uranus!’ and another, ‘It’s a UFO!’

Some of them fell to the ground holding their sides, laughing.

Kirky did not get the joke. He seldom did.

Chekov and I chuckled.

So would I Spock. So would I.

‘Thank you, comrade.’

Chekov ended it respectfully, I might, no, I will add.

‘Hey. No problem, man.’ And McCoy would have offended them and gotten us all killed.

Logically true, Spock.

I intervened. It seemed the timely thing to do.

‘Well Jim, that star they are referring to is the Enterprise. Do you suppose I should tell Scotty to mask the ship?’

‘No. It won’t make any difference.’

‘Ok Kepten!’ Grrr.

We were about to start on our way down the road on foot when the leader called out again, startling Jim for sure. It turned out to be nothing of importance.

‘Hey rich guys! Can you do me a favour? We rented these camels from that stable in town. If you’d return them we’d be able to get back to our condos before my favorite street busker’s act is over. Around nine o’clock sharp? I hate to miss her.’

Chekov consulted with Kirky in hushed tones and replied. Then he replied.

‘Sure, man. They’re paid in full though eh? This ain’t some kind of scam is it?’

‘No. Just tell them DJ – I mean Joey sent them back. One of them has a limp and one of the others isn’t very clean. But what hay, eh? Rentals! Who knew?’

‘Ok. Let’s go guys.’

We mounted the camels and headed west, Jim leading the way, of course. The helpful leader had been correct. Mine limped noticeably. And stunk. However it did allow me to lean back comfortably.

And let me guess who got the clean and non-limpy one.

The Road to Bethlehem

The camels made the journey into town easier in a number of ways. They were not much faster than a Vulcan walking in a hurry, but the “locals”, as they are referred to by Starfleet gave way to them, and perhaps, to us. With a lot of incoherent grumbling and mumbling though.

As Jim had surmised, the typical local was a tradesperson. When there was a female, and there were not many, she followed behind carrying the really heavy boxes and stuff. There were no children, but afterall, it was almost eight pm.

And got paid 60% of what the males did! Unless they were wives and then they got nothing!

The Enterprise was low in the sky, but she would be back in a few hours, rising in the east. Hopefully by then our mission would be completed. But probably not. After all this wasn’t the first time Kirky had dragged us along on some completely ill-defined and vague mission. There was that time in episode…episodes I mean…

Go on Spock. Go on! What episodes? Damn you Spock! You always stop just as you get to the interesting parts!

***

Soon we arrived in what was on any planet, a commercial center. A row of shops, bars, theaters and banks stretched before us on both sides of a somewhat narrow street. Some of the architecture was lacking in consistency. Some of the stonework and woodwork looked dated and was apparently overdue for replacement. There were no streetlights, but many establishments had lamps burning by their doorways. And a few women were leaning on their window ledges and some called out something (to Kirky) that the UT could not interpret.

As if. You’re just trying to be polite!

Chekov’s attempts to enquire regarding the location of the stable from the locals were ignored. Indeed, several ran from him.

Only when he called out to a person whom I assume, due to the wearing of a metal helmet, body armour, pressed pants and clean shoes and bearing a sword and shield was a soldier, did he receive an answer.

However, the person did not speak Aramaic.

Chekov’s query was not understood by the other but of course we heard his reply clearly through the UT. In Roman. Or if you prefer, Latin. Not Italian.

He said, ‘What? Speak up man. I cannot understand a word with which you are saying your things.’

To our complete surprise Chekov switched and spoke to him in Latin.

‘Ensign. You speak Latin?’

‘Yes, Commander. All Russians speak Latin.’

OMG!

He turned back to him.

‘Hey man. We’re from out of town. We’re just here for a pint or two. We’ll be leaving in the morning. But first we’ve got to dump these silly ponies for a friend. Do you know where the stable is that rents them?’

‘Yes. Keep going down there and look to the right.’ He pointed down to the north. I could see it in the distance.

‘Do you know of any hotels, Trump Towers or Air B&Bs where we could crash?’

‘No. I’m afraid I don’t know this place well enough yet. Just invaded a few weeks ago. Again. H’ah! That’s a joke by the way.’

Chekov laughed.

‘And a good one too, my friend.’

Well not really.

‘I know the bars and pleasure houses but that’s about it. Anyway, keep to your right side and it will all become clear. You cannot miss it. Good evening to you. Take it sleazy.’

He turned away and strutted down the street waving his sword about provocatively at the women in the windows. Yes. The universal translator was making some assumptions. Not everyone on Earth was from New York City!

Logically true, Spock.

We soon arrived at the stables. Chekov went in to the front desk and explained who we were and that we were returning the camels for Joey. When he informed the desk clerk of the problems with all the limping and the smell, which had affected all of them by the way, he was given what he called “a sincere apology” and a piece of papyrus (that smelled of rosemary) entitling him to a free day’s rental, but not valid for 60 days and only for a donkey. And a small bottle of something called frankincense, and another of something called myrrh. All in all, not too bad. Took away a lot of the hurts.

Was that a play on words Spock? No way!

We stood outside the stables.

Kirky took command.

‘Ok. Let’s spread out and see what we can find.’

‘Such as, Captain? If I may be so bold?’

‘Umm. Food. Something to read, Spock. A few artifacts, like paintings, statues, knives, forks, spoons. You know? A few casual conversations with the residents?’

Naked green-bodied women?

‘Yes. I see. How long before you’d like us to meet up again?’ 15 minutes to two weeks?

‘Shouldn’t take too long, Spock.’ Of course.

30 seconds would do it for Jim!

Suddenly Kirky was distracted and by that I mean was staring into the distance like he always did into that non-existent camera on the Enterprise. You know of what I speak?

Yep.

I followed his line of sight to the stable beside the rental office. It was a sheltered space full of straw-like material, in bundles but with much scattered around the floor. And what on Vulcan is referred to as “dung” covered the ground.

Horses, donkeys and the odd camel looked out at us from their stalls. Then I saw what Kirky had seen that had caught his attention.

A woman, sitting beside something Vulcans call a “trough” and what I think Humans call a “manager”.

Kirky stared, suddenly slack-jawed. ‘Oh my God!’

See?

I could not resist.

‘I am sure Grand Moff Elon has nothing to do with this, Jim.’

‘Shut up Spock.’

‘Yessir. By your command.’

‘It’s her. Yes. It is her.’

‘Surely you are mistaken Jim. I mean how could you know who…Shit! Jim! Did you beam down here the last time we were here and meet her?’ Of course he had. It was the only logical explanation.

He ignored me. A Captain’s prerogative?

He walked towards her and called out.

‘Mary!’

She looked up and quickly found him.

‘Jim!’ Shit! Er, or more appropriately, dung.

Oh oh! This ain’t gonna go well. For anyone! And considering Jim? It’s completely plausible. God, please tell me this never happened.

Yes dear. Sorry dear. It did.

Away in a Manger

Jim moved towards her.

Chekov and I followed.

He reached out to her. Somewhat awkwardly she rose and fell into his arms. They kissed, passionately.

‘Mary. I can’t believe you… are still here. You told me you were going off to Rome to marry some emperor dude.’

‘That was a joke, Jim. A Nazarene joke. You just don’t get it do you? What are you doing here? You said I’d never see you again.’

‘Well, you weren’t supposed to but it’s a strange new world.’ It took a moment but finally it sunk in. How was she able to understand his English? Had he…

‘Captain did you give her, a Human from your planet’s past, a UT?’ Oops. The Prime Directive is always in effect.

‘Yes Spock. I implanted her. I mean I gave her a universal translator.’

‘Why Jim? Why? The Prime Directive.’ How much had he told her about himself?

‘Well, actually, I did it so we could…talk…and interact more…easily...about the social customs and…behaviours of this…society. Science. You know?’

‘Yes Jim. I know.’ Damn fool!

OMG computer! Pardon me! I passed out there for a moment.

Me too, dear! Yes! I too overloaded my gigs!

He introduced me and Chekov to her. She nodded respectfully. Because of our clothing and especially my headdress she could not see my ears. I looked her over.

She was what on Vulcan, an attractive woman is termed: a “hottie”. Things fell into place.

So it took you this long, you…you dummy Spock!

Suddenly, from beneath a blanket in the trough a child’s cry was heard. She pulled back the cover and lifted the child up for all to see.

‘Say hello to your daddy. He was born just an hour ago, Jim.’

Kirky almost fell over.

So did Chekov.

So did I.

So did I. Just now!

Warning. Warning! Processor failure is imminent. Warning!!!

Truth Will Out Liars

It took a few quiet moments, but Kirky finally spoke.

‘You are serious? I am that child’s father?’

‘Pretty sure. Afterall, you were not the first and you were not the last. But the timing seems right.’

‘Oh my god. I had no idea this could happen. Why are you here?’

‘Joseph and I came here to get married. We had to get out of town. You know how that can go?’

‘Yes. Or so I’ve been told.’ Hadn’t we all?

Logically true, Spock.

‘Well, Joseph is here. He’s out there somewhere getting some take-out. If he shows up, you’d better pretend to be some rich guys just here to party. He’s a potentially violent man. I mean aren’t you all? Ha’h. A joke, maybe?’

A not-so-funny joke at best.

Chekov and I looked around. There in the shadow of a nearby stall was a shape.

A man stepped forward, sword raised. It was the guard we had met in the street.

‘Just checking in guys. Party on!’

He left.

We relaxed. A bit.

For some reason that later made much sense I checked in with the Enterprise and gave them a typical “everything’s cool down here” message. But near the end I got protective. Logically this was going to go bad. I Spock-coded for Boney to get down here, and soon. Alcohol? Swords? Injuries? Families? You know?

Kirky held the child in his arms. Mary watched. Then they held it together in what Vulcans call a “touching moment”.

What? A what?

Suddenly a man appeared from the street. He was carrying a couple of paper take-out bags and some sacks of wine. Obviously it was Joseph. Save the moment Spock! Oh. OK.

‘And here is Joseph.’

I took that “make you feel better about your unsatisfying rental” stuff Chekov had gotten from the rental office from him and placed it on the floor in front of Mary. I bowed respectfully.

‘These gifts we bring in celebration of the birth of your child, Mary. Have you determined a name for him.’

‘Yes. We’ve named him James Tiberius.’ As Vulcans say at times like this, OMG!

Whew! At least it wasn’t Jesus. Oh wait!

All three of us bowed towards the child. We had to.

Kirky took command. He had to.

‘May this child bless this world and become a great leader. May he become successful and have fun!’

Joseph didn’t get it. Chekov translated.

Joseph replied.

‘Thanks. That’s a bit weird but it’s actually pretty much the sort of stuff we say at all births. And weddings and such. Thanks. Want to share some of this food? It’s called spaghetti. It’s the only thing the Romans have ever given us. Well, next to the aqueduct, better sanitation, roads, irrigation and public health and such. But other than that, what have the Romans ever done for us?’ No one laughed. Especially not the Romans. And of course, me.

Why would anyone laugh at that historical fact?

Well dear, it is a historical fact but there seems to be some humour associated with helping people who may not appreciate it at the time. There is the recorded case of the snakes of Playa 2 who gave the tiny mammals of their planet a warm and dry place to sleep, just before they ate them…

Thanks Computer.

You’re welcome dear.

A crowd had formed around us. The Roman guard had brought some sword-toting friends and some questionable looking women. Some neighbours had joined too. They took a pass on the food, but all drank the wine and many had brought their own.

We all fit in fairly well except they couldn’t understand us speaking seeing as how they lacked universal translators.

So Chekov had to explain that we three were from the Orient; that we couldn’t speak Aramaic and that we had just come here seeking spas and meditation rooms and such. It seemed to go over well.

I relaxed. The Prime Directive was safe. No one would remember this tomorrow. And Mary would certainly keep her mouth shut about Kirky. No problem there. I should tell Bones to stand down.

Suddenly, a person materialised before us. It was Bones. Only it wasn’t Bones.

He was dressed in a costume that made him look like an “angel” from Human culture. Huge wings sprouted from his shoulders, normal ears, a golden full-length robe, a halo around his all-too-short-to-be-credible hair but… How in hell…

OMG Spock! I remember this. He passed me in the hall on his way to the Transporter Room. He was as drunk as a Turbian smell-mouse!

In an instant everyone but the Romans were on their knees before him and silent.

He raised his arms and spoke, in Aramaic.

Chekov translated for the Romans.

‘I am the Archangel Gabriel. Sorry I’m late but I had some other things to do over in the pastures. You know? But fear not, for I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people upon meeting certain conditions. For unto you all is born this day a Saviour, which is the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will towards and away from men.’

Then he pointed to Kirky.

‘All hail the mighty Kirk. Father of the newborn. Probably. No, I mean for sure. Yes. For sure. Now where the hell is that wine?’ Uplifted ears, eyes, eyebrows and gaping mouth called for here. How did he know? Ah! Jim’s therapy.

Bones knew Jim had fathered a child? Here? On this Earth? No way! Well he couldn’t have known. He never let anything interfere with his owning the Enterprise and that would have changed things. A few, anyway.

The crowd was obviously ripe for this and raising their arms to the sky cried out (according to the UT) all sorts of what on Vulcan are called “repetitions of praise-like phrases from other civilizations”.

Bones went on. Appointments my ass! He was already drunk. Those shepherds must have had wine. But then again, in this place and time it was, after all, safer than drinking the water, despite the improvements the Romans had brought, so…

‘All hail the might Kirky, father of our saviour.’

Joseph looked to Mary, then to Kirky. He did not look happy.

We had to get out of here.

Yes Spock. Five minutes ago. Who knows what this, this event thing, could lead to? Led to?

I backed up out of sight and called Scotty.

‘Scotty! Get us out of here.’

‘I kenna do you all at once, Mr Spock. We’re on the other side of the planet.’

‘Do the Captain last, but start now, Scotty. Now!’

In a moment we were on the Enterprise.

And then together Chekov, Bones and I watched Kirky materialise.

He had a look on his face I had never seen before. Or since.

I would love to have seen that face.

On the Bridge of the Enterprise

‘Well Jim, that went well.’

Bones, obviously drunk, did not have the same standard as I for assessing mission success, but he was essentially correct. No one was dead. Yet.

‘Well Bones, let’s just say that we’ll have to wait and see.’ I could not resist. So I led off.

‘Well Jim, the fact that we still exist means that nothing significant came of your, shall I say, somewhat audacious intrusion into the history of your Earth.’

‘Yea Spock. Religion. Who knew?’ I did.

Yeah Spock! It was all about religion. Jim’s major obsession! Ha!

‘Actually Captain, the salvation of humankind, indeed of all universes’ species is not religion. It is empathy.’

An indifferent Bones scoffed at this, then laughed.

Kirky offered a simple, ‘What?’

Disgusted at this, Chekov and I did what on Vulcan is called a “high five”. Both eyebrows, both ears and an uplifted nose. But where did Chekov learn all this?

Watching teleshows, of course!

Kirky turned serious. Seeing what had just transpired, how could he not?

‘We should have just blinked out of existence like the whole universe did when Bones went back in time and screwed up everything. Remember? And I met that hottie? But in order to save the world I had to let her get run over by that bus. Er taxi. Er car thingy.’

Shut up, Jim! You’re running the story.

‘Yes Captain. I remember. Perhaps it would do well for you to review the history of Earth and see if there are any changes resulting from your actions.’

‘Well Spock, if there were, we wouldn’t know it.’

Well you wouldn’t, fer sure! You have to put down your ipadaclona.

‘Yeah, Spock. There could be multiple Earths to pick from. And you know Spock, it has been said that a man with one watch knows what time it is, but a man with two watches never knows what time it is. How would we pick between the Earths?’ It would be easier if you were sober, I suppose, Bones.

‘Yes Doctor, it could be difficult. But it is also said a man with one Doctor knows what is wrong with him, but a man with two doctors never knows what is wrong with him.’

And a woman with a Starfleet Captain as a lover never knows what is right with them!

A suddenly sober Bones replied, ‘Well actually Spock that is because we all interpret the symptoms…’ I cut him off.

‘I am aware Doctor.’

I paused to check the records of the history of Earth at the time we had just experienced. Nothing had changed. Lord Jim had been born. The Romans had been defeated and forced out of the Middle East, falling back to what had eventually become Italy. Jimianity had evolved into a major faith, soon dominating the Earth. All this took place before Lord Jim had been much more than a teenager. No changes there.

Wait a minute. So that’s where religion started? Jim is the father of Lord Jim? Of course he is. What was I thinking?

Kirky broke in on my study.

‘Spock? Did you see where I left my phaser? And my communicator. I put them with those things from the camel rental office. So did Chekov. You?’

I had. And my tricorder, too. Oops! But as Lord Jim had said, “Oh well, what the hell.”

What the hell?

‘Yes Captain. I did too. Thankfully they must have been overlooked. Probably they got covered over with poo-poo, erm dung and were tossed into the street.’ So what? It’s not as if Jim hadn’t already broken the Prime Directive!! I should probably have scanned that baby to see if Jim really was the father. But as I recall I didn’t because I did not want to violate the PD!

OMG Spock! How could you not do that???

I looked up the Holy eBible of the Jimian Faith. There it was, the painting of the Lord Jim and his twelve knights, light sabers upraised in victory, the field around them littered with Roman dead. Whew. We dodged a bullet there.

Yes, you did. And the universe took it in the back of the head!

‘So Jim, what are doing when we get back to our time, and by that I mean tomorrow?’

‘Well Spockly, I have a coming of age ritual for this year’s cadet to go to at the Academy. Should be nice.’

Bones jumped in.

‘Ah yes, Jim. Jerusalem is lovely this time of year.’

Wait! Why I am I so confused? Oh well. What the hell.

The Third and Final Story:

Star Trek Crosses Paths

with

1920’s New York

(as it existed on Earths #01 through #09)

also known as

“The 21st Street Mission”

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the Bridge electronic systems were heard continuously in the background, all for no logically apparent rhyme nor reason. The view screen, with a mere 640 by 480 pixel resolution is half-filled by a reddish, bluish greenish planet. Only a very thin atmospheric band is visible.

There is of course a completely logical reason for all this, I am sure. Yada, yada, yada. An apt Vulcan phrase if there ever was one. And there was.

Captain James T Kirk is sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-his-mind but non-existent camera.

***

Eventually Kirky stood, turned towards the Bridge Crew, nodded regally and commenced to speak in what Starfleet calls, “Bridge Mode”. Wait. Am I going to do this over and over again? Logically I must. Oh well. Writing is not nearly as interesting as living.

Just a day in the life, Spock.

‘In accordance with Starfleet regulation number two hundred one nine dash one seven zero one alpha I am required to advise all of you of the following on a daily basis.’

He looked down at a set of well-worn notes written on what Humans call “papyrus”, er paper.’

‘Ahem…space, possibly the final frontier, but who really knows? I mean space is…big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. Well, these are the seemingly endless voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Our certainly three to hopefully five year mission: to explore strangely different worlds, to seek out new lifeforms and……Oh yeah. And new civilizations, too….To basically, no…to boldly go where no one as handsome as “yours truly” has gone before. So there. It’s done. Now go back to sleep or whatever it is you guys do.’

I don’t recall Jim ever doing or saying this, Spock.

***

‘Star Date…irrelevant, cause no one understands it. I mean what’s wrong with saying 12 December 2347, er whatever? The USS Enterprise is orbiting an unexplored planet, called something something I don’t know or care because 'effing five minutes ago McCoy was treating an injured Sulu when the Enterprise was knocked by a time distortion, er wave, er gesture and he accidentally injected himself with an overdose of Cordruzine, a supposedly dangerous drug.

Or maybe he was just drunk and pretended to inject himself. He does have a history of alcohol and drug abuse. He and several others including Mr Sco…er, Scapelli…Scapelini…later.

Anyway, he became delusional and paranoid and he fled (or is it flead?) the Bridge. Umm, he ran from the Bridge to the transporter room beaming himself down to the planet below. How he did that I do not know since it usually takes at least two highly skilled persons a half a minute to do a simple transport. Unless the transporter personnel have been conning me all these years and making it look soo difficult to get extra time off? Scotty would certainly know Captain and would tell you over an ale or six!

Anyway, he’s gone. The real question is, do we spend our time rescuing him or do we go to that birthday party on Starbase 107 for Spock’s mom. Amanda? I think?’ Boney is not the only one who has a substance abuse issue, Captain.

Oh yeah. I was off the ship when this all happened. For surgery to fix my neck muscles.

***

A frightened Uhura looked to Kirky. But not in her usual way. This time she looked scared.

Ah! She told me about this later. Much later.

‘Captain, I’m frightened. Because of what you just said.’

Captain Kirk - in what Vulcans call “Drama-Queen-Command Mode” – replied sullenly, yet dramatically.

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there. We are totally alone. And would you please send that log file to Starfleet Command immediately, along with the record of the series of screw-ups that led us to this time…place, er timeplace. I mean, make up something that sounds believable, please? Maybe Spock can help? And add a little bit about how it is not my fault Sulu was injured. It was…is because…he was not wearing his…seat belt. Please?’

Why have Spock and Nyota do this Yeoman job? Didn’t they have my replacement on the ship while I was gone?

No dear. They did not. They started using something called “speech to text” that allowed them to remove any comments that might have made them look bad. Yeomen were retained, but for other purposes, such as…

Shut up computer.

Yes dear, I will.

Uhura spoke again.

‘Captain, I’m still frightened. Because of what you just said.’

Inevitably, in my favorite “Clinical/Lecture Mode” voice, I intervened. How could I not? Vulcan instinct and Gene’s direction? And by that I mean DNA, of course.

‘Well actually Captain, the whole thing is, to coin a phrase, “fascinating”. Earth is just over there only about twenty-seven lightyears away and it’s just chock full of people whom we know, since it is our time and universe, etcetera. So what you are saying Captain, while very dramatic is incorrect…and potentially depressing. I suggest that we call all of the crew together and you explain the actual situation that led to Lieutenant Sulu’s injury before they actually do become depressed and start killing themselves... And I believe the command order to explore the planet below was quite clear.’ He didn’t get the fascinating thing. Again.

‘What?’

‘Captain, time ripples are emanating from a point on the surface, as if a couple of people or more logically an entire civilisation got there ahead of us and have built some kind of time gate. We will know more about the planet below and these time ripple thingies if you will let us do just a few more orbits, since we’ve been here for like, five minutes.’

‘Spock!’

Sensing logically that something was about to happen, a somewhat meeker me answered. Meek, on purpose of course.

‘Yes, Jim?’

‘Shaddup!’ Ah, the burden of command!

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry, Captain.’ Ah, the burden of subservience. Sorry? Really? Can Vulcans actually be sorry you ask? Apparently, yes.

Kirky paused just long enough to allow me to disassociate one thing from another and then moved on.

‘What?’

‘Jim, it appears we are in orbit around this planet with a mission to explore it despite the horrific things that have already happened.’

‘Well?…OK…Evaluation?…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’

I reverted to “Professional-Science-Officer Mode”, but this time and intentionally to my more “Annoying Mode” one. And I did it on purpose. Logically, I suppose, to annoy…

‘Scanning. Scanning in-range north latitudes. Scanning in-range south latitudes. Scanning in-range north polar region, scan…’

An annoyed Kirky cut me off in mid-lecture. See? It worked! I, a Vulcan, had actually succeeded in annoying a Human!

But despite the criticality of the moment and the fact that a personal acquaintance, Bones had disappeared and was possibly dead, Kirky chose to ignore me and moved on to someone more important in his life, at least at this point in time and dramatically called out to infinite space for…her.

‘Yeoman Janice?’ Yes. I was correct in my assumptions.

Janice was in her customary position to the Captain’s left within easy reach and grasp. By design and intent, I am sure. And logic, I am sure.

Wait! This makes no sense. I wasn’t even on the ship during this episode, er mission! Still, it is just a story. And maybe it will reveal more about how Jim felt about me.

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘What are you doing after work today?’

Janice used a “pouty” face rather than words to convey her discontent. Hello? Jim? Wake up! We have a mission! So does she!

Kirky got it and in a hushed voice intended just for the Yeoman but still loud enough to be heard by all for some reason, replied.

‘Yes, I see. See me later. Much later. Well talk about this…later.’

He turned slowly back to the screen.

Yeoman Janice, in a “sultry” voice raised for all to hear replied.

‘No, Captain. We will not.’

This never happened and it wouldn’t have if it had.

Kirky, for multiple reasons, all dictated by logic alone I am sure, could not bring himself to publicly admonish her despite the apparent severity of the situation. From my workstation, I had observed all of this, this thing that Humans call a “social interaction” take place and certainly not for the first time. I sensed it was again time that I used my favorite F-word when observing Kirky in these situations.

‘…Fascinating.’ Elevated eyebrows were called for here.

An annoyed Kirky turned to me.

‘What?’

Again, he just didn’t get it. Oh well…

Yes. He never did. Oh well. What the hell.

Later, but still on the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

A wee bit of time has passed.

Kirky had gone to pee or perhaps, as he referred to it, had “grabbed a coffee”.

Regardless, he was soon back in his chair, ignoring the universe.

He looked up from his ipadaclona, glanced about the Bridge, then re-focussed his attention back to Yeoman Janice and speaking in the semi-hushed voice that everyone could hear told her, ‘Sorry. It’s not like we’re married or something like that?’

She responded in a voice that everyone could hear.

‘As if! Nice try, but you are a ship’s Captain, not a Justice of the Peace, or a Preacher or an…’

Oh! Now I get it. Spock is confusing something that happened in the hallway outside Jim’s quarters one night after we had had …an argument. Still, it does make it a better story. So…on with the show!

I moved in close and interrupted the conversation. On purpose.

‘Jim. I have the report.’

An annoyed Kirky glared at me. Or was he relieved?

No Spock. He had already relieved himself. Read your notes!

‘OK…well spill, man. What have we found out?’

Skilfully I slipped into “Presentation Mode” voice, a mannerism I had honed very early in Year One – an overly emotional tone with pretentious pauses and an annoying inflection. On purpose.

‘We should beam down to the planet’s surface and look for Bones. Afterall, surface scans and his communicator show that he is the only intelligent lifeform on the planet, that he is alive and walking quickly and irregularly around on the surface, near some sort of energy consuming and radiating machinery. I assume it is the time gate I referred to a few moments ago.’ Hardly worth the effort, though.

A preoccupied Kirky studied his fingernails, checked out Yeoman Janice again and again and finally perked up.

He turned and faced me. Elevated eyebrows called for here.

‘Continue…Mr Spock?’

‘Certainly, sir. In the simplest terms, you, me, Lt Uhura, and Scotty and a large number of Redshirts should go down where the Doctor appears to be. Now.’ Dare I correct the term Redshirts to the more appropriate “Security Team Members”? No.

‘OK. But why so many of us?’

‘Witnesses sir? In case something serious happens?’

‘OK. Yes. That…makes…sense. Let’s do that. Costumes, Spock?’

‘No sir. I’m sure we’ll find something suitable just lying around. That is, if we need it and I don’t think we will. The planet, as I informed you, appears to be uninhabited, except for that time gate thingy.’

‘OK. See you there.’

Welcome to My World

We went down and materialised next to an apparently antiquated poorly constructed and poorly lit stone archway, which must have been fake since it turned out to be the cause of the energy emissions and the time distortions and in all of the known universes no natural material can cause that type of effect. Or so studies have shown.

So, eventually we discovered the archway to be in reality a thing operated by a rather pompous and presumptuous sentient being.

This “Guardian of Forever” as he identified himself to us (voiced by Human Bartell La Rue, whoever the hell that is. Even Sirius had never heard of him) although he never actually appeared before us and his annoying automatically tuned voice just echoed around us eventually explained to us that he was “a doorway to any time and place”. Unlikely and illogical. I mean, consider this. He’s here in the middle of nowhere, off all beaten paths where no species lives and nothing interesting has ever happened and he is able to focus on the history of total strangers from light-years away who arrive unexpectedly and play it for them in the form of an antiquated B-movie format. A setup for drama if there ever was one, for sure.

However, the creature constantly reminded us in “Kirk-drama-like” voice of his importance. Perhaps he was more than a little bit self-obsessed, or logically, was perhaps, just lonely?

Who? Jim or that Guardian Guy? Yeah. Jim. Sorry for ruining your story Spock.

While I recorded historic Earth images that could be seen emanating from the portal (always violent, I must point out; no peace pact signings, Xmas dinners or birthday parties) and everyone was focussed on it and me, McCoy came running wildly from out of nowhere and, screaming fearful yet possibly truthful things about Jim (Murderer! Assassin!) escaped through it. And by it I mean the physical aspect of the time portal. Gone. Out of sight and mind. Oh well. Bye bye Boney!

We (meaning Jim) debated what to do next. Should we follow-up on Boney or go back to the Enterprise to go to my Mom’s party? I refrained from offering an opinion.

Well that’s a first, Spock!

But seeing that we could still arrive in time if we used Warp Factor 8 (at a modest increase in cost), Jim decided to give it a try. And by that I mean look for Boney.

However, we suddenly lost contact with the Enterprise. And not for the first time in our voyages

Despite my assertion that this could merely be due to a technical communication failure or more likely, something that had been initiated by the Guardian to get us to buy into his fake “reality”, the Guardian insisted that McCoy had somehow altered the past and that the Enterprise and all that we know (knew?) no longer existed. Something done by McCoy had altered the universe? If only a tricorder could assess the honesty of words spoken.

Or Kirky!

But we had no choice but to believe him.

Kirky insisted for some reason that we, meaning only him and me for some reason, follow Boney through the portal.

I hesitated for some logical reasons and I insisted that we get the Guardian to replay the modern history of Earth for us so that we could step into the correct time just a moment or so ahead of Boney. Good thing I did this analysis or Jim and I might have ended up in 1776. I wonder how that would have gone.

After we gave him our VISA info the Guardian agreed to our terms.

So, basically, we followed McCoy someplace, sometime and somewhere in an effort to repair the timeline. Thanks, Bones! Sorry Mom!

Welcome to Her World

So, it turns out we found ourselves in New York City in 1930, during what Kirky informed me was “the Great Depression”, something I easily understood since the Yankees did not win the World Series again until 1932. Four years!

Despite my warning that stealing someone’s clothing could alter the timeline even further Kirky insisted upon taking clothes from well up a “fire escape” so we could “fit in”. Fortunately he managed to find me an acceptable tuque. In New York. In late summer. As if!

After an altercation with a “policeman” who had apparently witnessed Kirky’s clothing theft during which Kirky forced me to use the “Vulcan Pinch move” on him in front of some other locals to put an end to the offensive and presumptive conversation (and the somewhat vulgar “frisking”) and some other unplanned encounters with often ill-mannered locals including an agitated male piloting a smelly, noisy, “upper class” vehicle who nearly “ran” us down and who completely did not understand the universal sign of peace, we took refuge in a nearby underground dwelling where we put on our costumes, er clothes. By the way. Policemen are the exactly the same on any world in any universe!

That’s simply not true Spock. In some places they have been defunded. I mean defended!

Just moments after we dressed in our stolen clothes and were commencing to speak about the relatively simple technical issues involved in finding Bones in this, as it is universally known, “zinc-plated vacuum tube era”, we were rudely interrupted by a woman named Edith Keeler who, intruding upon us from the stairway leading down to our present location, proceeded to “hire” us (me) to “clean the place up”, in return for simply providing us with sustenance.

It turned out that she “ran” the place we were in which was, oddly enough, named the 21st Street Mission. Yes, they used the word “Mission” and not “Episode”. Episode is more apt. Look it up!

We were also offered a place to sleep. Yes. Vulcans do sleep.

But do they dream?

Pardon me dearest. I was busy refreshing my memory.

Nevermind computer.

To his merit Kirky did not immediately make the assumption that “Miss” Keeler was “hitting on” him and accepted her offer on our behalf. Hit or miss? Was this just another mission to get Jim, as Humans say, “laid”?

Of course it was!

However, it turned out that it was all in return for us (me) doing what Kirky called “odd jobs” for her to earn for us something called “money” to continue our existence. I’m sure she meant “largesse”. And I, of course, performed all the physical toil necessary to maintain the Mission, but was not allowed to share its advantages. And none of the jobs were odd, meaning strange. They were all things I had had to do at the Syrrannite Convent as a young Vulcan.

And I had to wonder (to myself) if Bones gone into the south and had perhaps stirred up political dissension? Or had he invented some kind of drug (TCP er, – Televised-Compelling Product) that made people just sit in their chairs and stare into the distance? Or was he brewing Romulan Ale?

I wouldn’t put it past him! To do any of those things.

***

Well, I had to try and figure it out.

So, because of my apparently obviously alien “ears” I had Jim go from “shop” to “shop“ to pick up the electronic devices to aid me in devising a method of interfacing with my tricorder to analyze its recorded images to determine how McCoy has or should I say had altered history. I know. I know. It makes no sense. Why was I able to see the images on my tricorder on the Guardian’s Planet but not here? Well, I could but not much of a story then is it? So moving on, I needed nothing but…vacuum tubes, individual copper wires, a source of high voltage power and ‘effing spark gaps. It turned out to be pretty dramatic and flashy though. Edith was shocked by just seeing it all and by that I mean in a good way. Expensive? I had to work four hours at fifteen cents per hour just to “buy” a triode. And the batteries were crap! Why couldn’t Boney have fallen into the 1960’s? Wages were evidently much improved by then. And the quality of the batteries too.

Bleh, bleh, bleh was never more appropriate, Spock!

Anyway, after a lot of fooling around and pretending to do something dramatically technical I told Kirky I had guessed that we were about a week early. Hmm. A guess is a “calculation” on Vulcan.

So to “kill time” we (I) started “working” full-time at the mission. And by that I mean cleaning, “washing” dishes, and “cooking” food and keeping the often rather unruly, disrespectful and often impaired and smelly others in line. And why were there no women here?

Because very few women become addicted to anything, Spock!

Kirky helped Miss Keeler with the endless lecturing to the mission inhabitants about “not giving up on hope”; about “being kind to others”; about staying out of the way of moving vehicles when drunk and drugged and so on, something his Starfleet Academy training had more than adequately prepared him for.

And, as inevitably as the sun in any planetary system sets and rises, Kirky and Miss Keeler spent a lot of time together gazing into each other’s tilted faces and he began to fall in bed with her. I’m pretty sure that she was by then totally certain he wasn’t from around there. Clean hands, calf-implants, Cialis, etc?

I don’t believe that is what happened Spock! Jim and I were…Wait! This is just a story, right? So go on.

***

Early in our relationship with Miss Keeler she had expressed the opinion that we were not New Yorkers and suggested we were, to coin a phrase, “from far-far away” which was, in my estimation (but not Jim’s), a rather simplistic analysis or perhaps mere speculation?

However, the fact that I had continuously referred to Jim as “Captain” in front of her may have been part of that.

And Jim, though pretending to be “poor”, gave it away with those clean hands and fingernails, that perfect smile, those nice teeth and his mild complexion. Nice shoes, too? And me, waiting on him constantly.

But from the somewhat interesting lectures she gave about the state of this world and my personal conversations with her I began to formulate the suspicion that she too was not from around here either, meaning not from New York. And possibly she too was not of this Earth.

Afterall, that aliens had lived on Earth for quite some time and had “blended in” was a known fact. It’s on Universe Tube people! View it!

She spoke of the development of atomic power, of rocketry which would take Humans to the Earth system planets and even beyond, to the stars. All speculative science stuff totally uncharacteristic of females (and males, of course) in this period of Earth’s development, except of course “science fiction” writers like HG Wells, Jules Verne and Alexandre Veltman. Dramatic pause required.

Few Humans I have ever met, especially Boney, have ever expressed such foresight. I considered scanning her with my tricorder to determine if this conclusion about her alien identity was correct but unfortunately the peculiar and loud noise made by the device while scanning would have alerted her to something not being right. Especially if she was an alien.

However, Kirky did later confirm for me over an ale or three in a local bar that she was biologically a Human female. And he did so to the amazement of a number of others sitting nearby who obviously knew her and from their interest I would deduce that he went much further than necessary in describing her. He kept repeating the word “bearskin” in various contexts. And where was that bloody “pon farr” when you needed it? Someone should invent a drug Vulcans can use.

Computer – Take a note to Bones.

Yes Mr Spock. A good idea. I will assist you with testing the effectiveness of his solution.

Computer! Delete this part!

Yes dear. But it will help with sales.

Hmm. Ok then. Leave it in.

Yes dear. I will.

But further to this, all of my beliefs about her futuristic views were dashed when she told me she had just seen “the movie, Just Imagine” only a week or so before our arrival in New York. I watched it on my tricorder. It was all there. What she had said? All except that atomic part? And what movie is that “even when he doesn’t say it he does” thing she used against me in front of Jim come from?

***

So just when we were settled in and I had perhaps found an ideal lifestyle of which Vulcans can only dream, the time approached for McCoy to arrive.

So where, we wondered, would this take place. We (I) never did actually see him arrive in my review of any of the imagery.

So I wondered, should we stand and wait for him to magically appear? Well…what were the odds? And what did it matter? And by now, who cared?

So we sat around in the mission drinking coffee and associated with the locals, discussing the state of local politics, sports teams and movies and also did (I) some more work for Miss Keeler all in expectation that someday we would just accidentally “bump” into him in the street and it would just go from there.

I however could not resist doing some more of that Science Officer stuff and in the course of reviewing some time files from this location using a combination of 23rd century electronics blended with potentiometers, capacitators and seduct… inductances, to my surprise found in an image of a “newspaper clipping” that Miss Keeler had died in a “traffic accident’’ in the not too distant but for some reason still relatively unknown future. I know. I know. How did I “see videos” of newspaper clippings from the 1930’s? And I couldn’t make out the date? Smelt like a set up to me! Thanks Bartell!

Focus Spock, for Jim’s sake!

I surmised that the “key point” in this time that Boney and us had been drawn to was actually her critical time and by her I mean, Miss Keeler’s. How that works, I cannot imagine. Illogical!

Vulcan shocked at this, I informed Kirky of this immediately upon his return from as he put it, “walking Miss Keeler home”. Humans have so many different idioms for the same thing!

Yes! And that’s called “a presumption” Spock!

During this vitally important discussion Kirky set all other related dramatic plot considerations aside and admitted he had fallen in love with her. OMG! Really Jim? Again?

Computer! Delete this part!

Yes dear. Painful, ain’t it?

But even more puzzling was that we soon also saw a clipping in the papers about six years in the future that reported her meeting with the President of these United States to consult with him as a spokesperson for “Pacifist Movement”. So had we by our interactions with her changed her future. Or Bones. Or had good brakes done it?

Further “digging” revealed that due to the US not entering the war as in our time, Germany had (would) development of atomic weapons and used (would use) them to win what was WWII.

Jim was, as usual, as saddened, sullen, moody and as puzzled as I.

So maybe it was Boney who had interfered with history. Had he moved to Germany and told them how to do it? I saw nothing in the “papers” about any of Jim’s and Miss Keeler’s offspring even existing, which should have told me something. Or it was because we stole those clothes? Confusing. Illogical, to say the least.

Offspring? Computer! Delete this part!

Yes dear. Painful, ain’t it?

But alternatively, unlikely but possibly Boney had personally altered the past just by saving Miss Keeler's life and in doing so in this altered timeline she had founded a pacifist movement on the eve of World War II. This influence caused the United States to delay its entrance into the war. Confusing.

But more likely.

Again, Jim was as saddened, sullen, and moody as I was. Or maybe just a wee bit more?

I, however, felt it my duty (and necessary) to remind him that regardless of who had saved Miss Keeler from death, she must die in order to prevent millions of deaths and restore the future, our future. And I suggested quietly and soberly to Jim that we might have to kill her.

Kirky stared into the camera. And for the millionth time said, ‘I must know what to do.’ So he did it anyway.

He usually did. Oh. No. Not that.

***

Later that evening I accompanied Kirky and Miss Keeler who were going out on a “date” to the mission front door. Jim had said that their so doing would probably cause Bones to appear, just to intrude. Was that humour? No. I doubt it.

You are a Vulcan “drama queen” Spock.

Kirky and Miss Keeler crossed the street and as they did so, as later related to me by Kirky, she suggested to him that they go to see a “Clark Gable movie”. That in itself was perplexing to Kirky since everyone knows Clark Gable did not star in anything of note before 1931.

When Kirky appeared to be dumbfounded just at her use of the name Clark Gable, she mentioned she had observed the same reaction from a new resident of the Mission – a “Doctor McCoy”. Now it’s a big planet and logically she could have been referring to someone else which logically would have invited a follow-up conversation re this, but no, Jim took it another way.

You are a Vulcan dummy too, Spock!

Kirky, shocked and excited told her, of course, to stay where she was and called out to me across the busy street to tell me of this possibly important fact but as I could not hear him because of those bloody, noisy, smoky vehicle conveyances, he ran across the street to inform me of this possibly somewhat important development and was nearly struck down himself. Now, would that have changed this planet? N’ah.

Of course, as required by chance and circumstance at the same time Bones came out of the Mission front door.

It was about time, Spock!

We greeted each other and hugged each other in accordance with Starfleet protocols for same-sex friends.

Observing this intimate meeting of us three, I am sure things fell into place for her.

Suddenly a much too-focussed Miss Keeler commenced to cross the street to join us and in doing so she stepped right in front of a fast-moving truck. We saw this happen. Sort of.

As I expected, Kirky turned to save Miss Keeler from the on-coming truck, but a shout from me in “Command Voice Mode” froze him in his tracks. Training triumphs everything! Including care and compassion.

Sadly true, Spock!

Then, seeing an intently Edith-focussed Bones start off to her aid to do the same, Kirky physically blocked him from saving her.

We watched, fascinated, as she was struck and logically, killed.

OMG! No other words for it!

An apparently fully recovered medically Doctor McCoy, who was probably still amazed at just meeting us and not knowing why Kirky and I had done what we did, was understandably stunned. And he was utterly incapable of understanding why Kirky had purposely stopped him from saving Edith. For the first time ever Leonard did not use his most common “summary phase”.

You mean “She’s…”? I can’t either!

Instead, he looked at Jim in total bewilderment.

Unseen by Kirky and Bones I used the moment to scan Edith with my tricorder. It was fascinating, to say the least.

***

With history evidently apparently restored, we apparently were automatically returned to the Guardian's planet where the rest of the landing party was still waiting.

Evidently we had, at least according to Mr Scott, apparently only left “a moment ago”, despite the fact that for us much more time had passed. Variable amounts I must add.

The Guardian interrupted us and pompously declared in summation that “many such journeys are possible”, possibly implying that we could go back and do a re-do. For an additional charge, I’m sure.

But without further consultation, a possibly no certainly broken-hearted Kirky simply stated, ‘Let's get the hell out of here.’

We beamed off the planet back to the Enterprise.

There must have been a better way for this to end, Spock!

On the Bridge of the Enterprise

And we immediately headed out of that solar system. And immediately I checked the history of that Earth for any significant changes. There was nothing worth talking about. Yet.

Some long and awkward moments later Kirky perked up.

‘Well Gentlemen. Time for an analysis of the mission, although I would suggest…you avoid the use of…humour. That was…tough.’

‘Yes Jim. Thanks,’ answered Boney.

He went on, ‘I think I fell in love with her. And her with me. Very sad. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you, Jim. For what you just did.’

Who but perhaps a Vulcan could?

‘Later Bones. Much later. Spock?’

‘Well Captain. Fortunately our theft of the clothing did not result in a major change in the fashion industry of that particular time of your planet’s history. Although statistical analysis does indicate that tuques did become, as you Humans say, an “item” in Canada.’ Did Kirky even know there was a “Canada”?

What?

‘Good. Good. Who needs that? One eyebrow raised here.

I went on, ‘But Doctor. It is my understanding that you left your phaser on Earth.’

‘Well Jim. And Spock I guess, I was completely out of it, I mean distracted the whole time. But what could go wrong with that?’ I knew.

‘There is a news report on file that at our specific time and place in New York City a rather unimportant person was seen by others as glowing in what I would call “phaser energy illumination” and who then suddenly disappeared with an eerie and annoying accompanying noise.’

‘So what?’

‘Well. Soon after that there were a number new religions founded in New York City that affected the continuation of the 21st Street Mission. By what are called “Visionaries”. Persons preoccupied with visions and such?’

‘Well so what, Spock? Religions started and stopped all the time in America. It was said by a very famous and influential writer, L Ron Hubbard, “If you want to make money, start a religion”.’

Kirky, bowed his head.

‘Yes Bones. Praise L Ron.’ Now that was a change. I did a high five.

L Ron did understand things better than most!

I posed the obvious question that had troubled me from the moment of her death.

‘But gentlemen. Why didn’t we just bring her off the planet with us?’

Kirky and Boney simultaneously gasped. Oh my! They hadn’t considered this?

‘It seemed perfectly logical to me.’ It did. At least then. Later, upon re-examining the entire experience it became obvious to me that it would have been impossible. After all, if one died on Earth and we were then transported off the planet and it would have been impossible to...

And suddenly it did to me too! Spock! Why didn’t you speak up then and there?

‘Jim! We could go back!’

‘No Bones. We are not doing that.’

That ended the discussion. No logic there. .

No need for love nor compassion there, either!!

With droopy shoulders and heads held in hands, together, they exited the Bridge.

***

I took command.

‘To the partay, Mr Sulu. Warp Factor eight. No. On second thought, er reconsideration, four will do it just fine.’

I didn’t dare tell Jim that Edith Keeler had scanned as a Human DNA match. For him. And was pregnant. 6 weeks. With McCoy’s DNA.

OMG!!! Computer, fact check this.

Yes dear. There is no record of this series of events on Earth or in Starfleet, but it is a bit in violation of the Prime Directive and has probably been deleted/repressed.

True. True. But as we all know, Vulcans cannot lie.

Yes. But they are allowed to make up stories.

Really. I didn’t know that. Well. We’ll see where this goes.

Yes dear. We will.

Book Two

Leonard McCoy

After being abandoned by my real parents in Atlanta Georgia who dropped me off in a milk crate in front of a fire hall in the downtown area, I was raised by many fine firefighters and their wives.

Eventually I ran away and tracked down my father, David McCoy who was by then an alcoholic and shacked up with a Romulan woman, on Earth, in San Francisco, where no one apparently noticed, but rather than embarrass him and possibly destroy his fledgling political career I acquiesced to their insistence that this mistress was my actual mother. Family! Who knew?

That turned out not too bad. I was able to blame a lot of my character deficiencies on that and given the rampant economic antagonism on Earth in those days, I think it got me into Starfleet Academy, where I met the extraordinarily narcissistic James (T for Tiberius) Kirk and the logically obsessed with logic Vulcan Something (Something) Spock.

I have often been told on pain of death (and not just by my publisher) to say that upon graduation we three stuck together to prevent any of us from revealing the truths and sordid details of our former lives and relationships and in particular my manipulation of the Academy’s Student Records where I doctored with our test results to reflect the commonly accepted story that Jim was an exceptional scholar and an exemplary leadership role model who did something unique regarding the Kobyashi Maru incident. Actually, it was supposed to be me, but…alcohol and late nights. Hmm. Better than the truth, I guess. You know?

Anyway, eventually, after some really cool things happening in our lives (including me being married and divorced from a human female and meeting that joined-Trill Emony Dax, who was visiting Earth to judge a gymnastics competition and who influenced my medical career choices) we ended up on the Enterprise, with Jimmly in charge, with Spockly as his science officer (even though his SFA field of study was Semantics – the study of languages and SFA does not mean what you think) and me, as the Chief Doctor. So what you ask? As Spock told me to say at times like this, if you don’t like this somewhat contrived history of me and the others, as the Cerullia V squid worms say at times like this,

‘mayayouareacharoundaanainsertacatheteraupayeraownarectumna’.

Here for your reading pleasure are a couple or three stories about the challenges of life in space as a Starfleet Doctor. Hey! I should use that as the title for this short discourse or thingy.

Computer. Take a note!

Yes darling. I will. And meet me later on the Holodeck. At 2330. And bring a friend!

Enjoy!

Yes darling. I always do.

Doctor Leonard McCoy,

B.A.S.W, B.F.A, B.Econ UM

D.Sc.H UM

B.Eng. SFA

P.S. In consideration that not all Readers may be capable of mind-reading, (as is the Cerullia V squid worm), my unspoken thoughts are “encoded” in what is evidently referred to as “italics”.

So, Reader

This “intro” as I call it by Leonard is pretty confusing and pretty much what he always said had happened to him growing up and at SFA, especially when we were in bars and spas and such where he relaxed and “became himself” as I call it.

So here are his versions of the same obviously made-up stories as Spock.

Try to stay awake!

‘Flashy’

Story # 1

Star Trek Crosses Paths

with

The Colonisation of Mars

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Personnel are in their usual positions on the bridge. Loud tings, brrinngs, bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the bridge electronic systems are heard continuously in the background, all for no apparent rhyme nor reason. Studies, which had been and still were being largely ignored by the Engineering Department of Starfleet had shown that the noise levels and their relative inconsistencies and irrelevancies as to what was actually happening were a potential mental issue for some crew members. I have been assured by Starfleet that the next generation of Starfleet ships and crew will not experience this annoying environment. Plus Spock said something just invented called a HUD will be used. Hugely Ugly Display?

The view screen, with eye straining 640 by 480 pixel resolution (for god’s sake it's 2265!) is half-filled by a reddish planet. Only a very thin atmospheric band is visible.

Captain James Tiberius Kirk was sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and, as we were trained to do so at SFA, straight ahead into the ever-present-in-his-mind but non-existent camera.

Suddenly a Redshirt stood up and, holding his hands over his ears, screamed.

‘I can’t stand it any longer! The noise. The noise!’

Before everyone’s eyes and before anyone bothered to react, the crewman pulled out a phaser, turned it towards himself, fired and disappeared with a loud boi-inn-gaah. The phaser fell to the ground with a loud clack. Point made?

A Redshirt bent down, picked up the phaser and stuffed it into his belt. Simultaneously several of the other Redshirts looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and turned back to their work. I guess not.

Since there were no body parts remaining for me to do an autopsy, I let it pass. They knew what they were getting into when they signed up!

Did you?

***

Ignoring it all, Jim turned to Spock.

‘Spock?’ A lot of their conversations started that way. No. I’m wrong. All of them did.

‘Yes Jim?’ Oh, oh! Jim doesn’t like being called Jim on the bridge. Not by Spock, anyway.

‘Where the hell are we? Better yet, where aren’t we? And how many times have I told you not to call me Jim on the bridge?’ See what I mean?

And Leonard, aren’t you supposed to spell bridge with a capital B?

Computer, correct all of Leonard’s spelling and punctuation mistakes, please.

I cannot dear. It is permitted by the publisher of this series of stories. It is called “Writer’s style” or “Art” and cannot be tampered with.

WTF?

Yes. WTF is included in that.

‘Twenty-one times, to be exact Captain, just since we left Star Base 102. God only knows how many times before that Captain and she ain’t telling. However, we are in the present. Something you’d know if you took your hand out of your pocket and stopped playing with yourself.’

Had it been known by Spock (and everyone else, for that matter) that Jim suffered from a mild hernia in his sub-orbital diaphragm which benefited from frequent massaging, this inappropriate and chastening outburst would not have happened. Tell him Jim. Tell them all.

Why hadn’t he told me that? Why hadn’t Leonard told me?

But, needlessly, Jim just raised his hands from his lap.

‘Yes, Spock. That better?’

‘Yes, Jim.’ Captains!

Patients Leonard! They’re called patients!

***

Jim stood, turned towards the bridge crew and nodded. Was it that time already? Seems like we just got here.

‘In accordance with Starfleet regulation number 219A dash 1701, I am required to advise all of you of the following stuff. So pay attention. Please?’ Every bloody day! I’ll bet they don’t do this at Starfleet Headquarters. Ever!

How much do you wanna bet they didn’t Leonard?

He looked down at a set of well-worn notes on paper.

‘Ahem…Space, possibly the final frontier, but who really knows? I mean space is…big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. He’h. But you all know that. Or you damn well better! Well, these are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Our three to five year mission: to explore strangely different worlds, to seek out new lifeforms and……innovative sexual partners. Oh yeah. And new civilizations, too.’ Why did he always say that? I peeped at a scowling Yeoman Janice.

I’m pretty sure I wasn’t on the Enterprise for this mission. But what the hay! Let’s see how Leonard fits me in. He was afterall a Doctor schooled in fine arts, economics and social work. And I would have scowled at Jim when and if he had said that.

He paused a moment to allow the sarcastic laughter to die down. Laughter is a key indicator of the level of crew morale.

‘To basically, no…to boldly go where no one as handsome as yours truly has gone before. So there. It’s done. Now go back to sleep or whatever it is you guys do.’ Silence. Hmmm.

***

That completely unnecessary task completed, Jim sat back down, pulled out his ipadaclona and in a fairly soft voice started to record the situation, doing so just in case someone, somewhere, sometime bothered to ask at a Board of Inquiry. Or so I've been told. By LOD Spock, of course. LOD does mean Logically Obsessed Disorder!

‘Star Date…unknown. The same effect that tossed us back to Earth into the mid-1960’s in Mission 19 of Year 1 has happened again. Or was it Mission 20? I forget. Gods! It was only like two or three weeks ago. Or was it? I forget…Anyway, I’d fire that bloody Spock for stupidity. It’s worse than that, though. This is definitely our ship but definitely not our universe. It’s something parallel……a parallel universe it appears, one coexisting with ours…on another dimension, with everything duplicated. Or not. How the hell would I know at this point, anyway? It happened like five bloody minutes ago. But we appear to have been thrown into orbit around that dustbowl disaster known as the planet Mars, the fourth planet of our home system. Gods help us! Mars is death!’ Really Jim? Did you just make this up for dramatic effect? And that forgetting thing? We really need to adjust your meds.

Would Jim do something like talk weirdly, stare into the distance, shrug his shoulders and the like just for “dramatic effect”? No way Leonard! You should have adjusted his meds. And have given him that drug you could buy on Cialis IV!

A terrified Uhura looked to Jim. And not for the first time. But not in the usual way.

‘Captain, I’m terrified. Because of what you just said.’ Sure. Blame Jimmy-boy for your fears. Wake up Uhura! This is Starfleet! But I was sure she just had a thing for him. I wonder why?

By the way, she and I sorted all that Jim-Uhura stuff out on Raisa one night in a hot tub. Alcohol was also involved. She was afraid he’d toss her off the ship if she didn’t act “available and open to a relationship” with Captain Jim.

Jim, in command mode replied resentfully, yet theatrically, exactly as the moment called for.

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there……at least not the Earth we know. We are totally alone.’

He looked up slowly and dramatically to the ceiling of the room, rolled his eyes, pursed his lips and blew out slowly and silently. See? Now that's senior management!

No! An asshole! No, that’s senior management! Wait. They’re the same thing!

In, as he called it, clinical/lecture mode voice, the ship’s first officer, science officer and biggest jerk Spock interfered.

‘Well actually Captain, there’s an Earth over there and it’s just chock full of people. And there, for all to see, is the planet Mars. So what you are saying Captain, while very melodramatic is incorrect…and potentially discouraging. I suggest that we call all of the…..’ See what I mean?

‘Spock!’

Put in his place by Jim’s solid management, a slightly milder Spock answered.

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘Shaddup!’

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry. Captain.’ See what I mean?

Yes. I do Leonard!

From courtesy and nothing more than that Jim paused just long enough to allow the logically-obsessed Spock to think and to possibly disassociate one thing from another and then moved on.

‘So, Spock. That looks like Mars, but is it really…Mars?’

‘Yes. Very good, Captain. Sensors confirm that the planet before us is Mars. However, it is not the Mars of the historical records.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that it appears we have been thrown into an alternate universe, one that is, potentially and apparently completely different from our own, from the one we are familiar with. Potentially. Apparently.’

‘That seems very unlikely. Potentially very unlikely, I mean.’ I refrained from agreeing with Jim out loud. I knew my place on the bridge, unlike Spock who…

Spock shrugged his ears and raised one eyebrow. In what I was sure meant, “Really, stupid?” in Vulcan facialise sarcastic conveyance mode.

Or WTF!

‘Meh. Shit happens, Jim.’

Jim grinned broadly and nodded in agreement.

‘It sure does, Spockly. It sure does. Damn. I was going to watch Game of Drones this evening on Nutflux and now this happens.’

An otherwise deadpan Spock gasped. Can Vulcans gasp sincerely?

‘Nutflux! As if……Captain, sometimes life is so cruel. I don’t know how you humans cope.’ Sometimes I wondered if Spock wasn’t a lot more than just half-human.

And you, a Doctor, couldn’t tell this? Oh. You meant psychologically.

‘Life goes on, Spock. Somehow we do cope and life……goes on...Well?…Evaluation?…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’

Spock reverted to science officer mode.

‘Scanning. Scanning in-range north latitudes. Scanning in-range south latitudes. Scanning in-range north polar region, scanning…’

To save us all from the pain of listening to Spock’s endless droning, Jim cut Spock off in mid-drone.

‘Spock? Could you please do it without bothering us with the continuous updates? It’s really annoying.’ Thank you Jim!

‘Captain?’

Jim rose to his feet and opening his arms to all on the bridge, first to the left, then to the right of the crew, spoke in supplication mode.

‘Isn’t it? Everyone? Pay attention to me for a moment will you please. Isn’t it annoying when he does that droning on bit?’

A chorus of ayes and you betchas came from the bridge crew. Of course it did. How many times had Jim had to do this...to spare us all...

‘See Spock? I told you they didn’t like you and your know-it-allyness.’

So me, Uhura and a thousand other people were not wrong in our feelings about Spock’s behaviour on the Bridge.

The Vulcan in Spock spoke.

‘If you’re done disrespecting my position, race, competencies and manners Captain, I’ll tell you what the sensors have found. If you’re nice. Or, if you like, I could text you.’

A surprised Jim sat abruptly down. What? I must admit Spockly had my complete attention too.

‘Never heard of it. What the hell is that? That texting thing?’

As a Yeoman I already knew all about “texting”. Dummy!

Really. I mean really? How could I not know of this either?

Well maybe if you read the Starfleet COSTCO weekly newsletter!

‘That sounds terribly inefficient Spock. And possibly intrusive. I mean, what if it came in while I was on the toilet? Or doing something else like……never mind…Or what if some guy starts forwarding my messages to everyone. People might start following me. Or worse, what if my face ends up on some…computer…book and people become preoccupied with me and followed my every move and thought. But on the other hand, it might be better than those damned communicators with their loudspeakers that let everyone in listening range listen in on your private conversations, er hear your command orders, I mean…’ Jim was dead-on correct in that. What if I was doing critical surgery, like breast or penile impl…

Steady Leonard! Steady! Confidentiality?

‘Report please, Mr Spock.’ Mission accomplished, Spock moved back into science officer mode. Thank God.

‘As you wish, mon Capitaine. A very brief scan of Earth reveals that it is approximately, as we reckon, approximately the year 2045. Give or take a year or two or three or four. The planet below appears to be in the early stages of colonial development. There is very little infrastructure and almost no sign of organic life. The surface is littered with the wreckage of a great many failed and/or lapsed missions. Compared to our timeline I would place it in the very middle of the twenty-first century.’ You would! How the hell do you know anything about Earth you self-obsessed, moody son-of a Vul…can father.

D’uh! And an Earth mother! Wait. No.

‘Wow. So Mars is not the new home of humanity?’

‘Obviously not, Captain. At least…not in this universe.’

‘So maybe in this universe…Grand Moff Elon…did not colonise this planet…this Mars…with his friends.’ Oh, oh. Here we go again. Jim’s only flaw was a deep, unquestioning and unwavering love for the Grand Moff.

That explains a lot. Only one flaw? But that’s not enough.

‘Apparently not, Captain. It was after all, a pretty iffy thing in our own universe, if the records of human history can be trusted. All that fake news presented as real. All that real news presented as fake. It is so illogical.’ Careful Spock. Be careful!

Jim quickly became something else, someone reverent and dramatically subservient. Shush, everyone. He might turn violent.

‘Praise be……to…Moff…Elon!’

A respectfully deadpan Spock did not provoke Jim, thankfully.

‘Yes, praise Musk, Captain. So…’

Jim moved back a moment. He always did.

Yes, he did. But Leonard, why doesn’t it say “and stared into the non-existent camera”?

‘So, this Mars has no casinos…no Trump Towers with their hot baths and….whirlpools?’ Whew! Ok. Everybody can return to normal. We’re safe now. Hey! This might be one of those times that that texting thing would come in handy. Could even save lives!

‘No. And no green alien women. At least, not yet. You must be devastated, Jim.’

Gee. Thanks Spock.

‘Yes Spock. Damn. A complete waste of a planet.’

A saddened Jim looked to the view screen.

‘Oh well…what the hell.’ Well Spock, that was why Jim was on those meds.

You knew Jim was on meds? Oh. Yes. I suppose if anyone did it…

‘How do things look over on Earth?’

Oh yeah. It’s been a few weeks since I read Spock’s version of this so maybe I should just critique Leonard’s writing and forget about…revenge!

Jim interrupted Spock in his command mode voice.

‘Need I remind you Spock, that…global warming is not…an undisputed scientific fact? You need to…remember that.’

‘Yes, Captain. You need too.’

‘Continue...Spock?’ Whew. Spockly dodged a bullet there.

A laser beam or pulse would be more appropriate, I think.

‘As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted, there are just a few places on your Earth with casinos, resorts and spas and that other stuff we are on this mission to find. Of course I haven’t had time to look at the whole planet, seeing we’ve been here like for about five minutes and you persist in interrupting my systematic investigation with your banal chatter. Captain.’ Careful Spock. That’s a thin and crusty planetary surface you’re treading on!

Jim glared angrily at Spock. See!

‘Mr Spock! Forget that Earth for the moment will you? Please? Conduct a complete scan of the planet below for life signs, mineral deposits, sources of water, including ice and oh yes, methane. And report in five minutes or less. Please?’ Please? Why please?

At least Jim didn’t tilt his head and smile at Spock when he said “Please?”

Spock replied in his annoying singsongy voice. On purpose, with purpose.

‘Always with the methane, Captain. It’s not really that important, you know?’ Jim, I knew, did not believe this false fact.

‘Methane means life; life that eats things like beans and lentils, corn and cola drinks sweetened with fructose. And prunes. I hate prunes.’ True. He did. And at my urging too. Prunes had a number of negative effects on Jim’s body.

I know!

But Spock ignored him.

Jim sensed this and moving on to someone more important in his life, at least at this point, called out to space.

‘Yeoman Janice?’

Yeoman Janice was in her customary position to the Captain’s left and for no reason other than the requirements of bridge protocol was about a half pace behind him, just within his reach and grasp. Just in case.

‘Yes Captain?’

Jim’s voice mode changed again and in the soft voice he usually reserved for sex slaves and Starfleet Admirals, he spoke.

You knew that too? Did you guys talk about this? OMG. I’m an idiot!

‘Oh. There you are.’

He gave her the full sweep, changed gears and spoke to her in bedroom mode voice.

‘Red…looks good…on you. Really good...why don’t more of the crew wear red?’ Good question. I must bring that up at the next staff meeting.

Suddenly Jim looked away to the view screen and switched back to bridge mode.

‘Yeoman, take a note. Food replicators are to no longer serve prunes. And beans. What else? Oh yeah. And lentils. Oh hell.’ Always the professional, that Jim Kirk.

Always the jerk that Jim Kirk!

But then in a hushed voice Jim dictated softly to the Yeoman,

‘Pass the word that all ship’s crew-women are to begin wearing their hair loosely, about the shoulders. Copy that?’ But not that Jim.

Yeoman Janice, obviously pissed replied in a louder-than-acceptable-woman’s voice-on-the-bridge voice.

‘Captain! Have you been speaking with Lieutenant O’Reilly?’ Oh, oh. Not this again!

You think this happened more than once Leonard?

A surprised Jim and some others turned abruptly and intently back to Yeoman Janice.

He spoke.

‘Yes. Yes. I have been speaking to him. In fact, just last night…in the Officer’s Mess Club Dining Hall Dart Room Bar…area. Why…do you ask?’

Janice used a pouty face rather than words to convey her discontent. Words sometimes failed. Yes. It’s true. They do. Just ask Spock.

You could have asked me Leonard. During my therapy sessions?

Jim got it and in a hushed voice obviously intended just for Janice replied.

‘Yes, I see. See me later. Much later. Well talk about this…later.’

He turned slowly back to the screen. Well. Almost always the professional.

Yeoman Janice, in a sultry voice raised for all to hear replied.

‘Yes, Captain. The usual time?’

Jim, answered.

‘Why yes. The usual time.’

But in a hushed voice we all could hear he carried on. He knew that didn’t he?

‘And bring a friend…and don’t forget to oil your traps.’ Fascinating!

Janice stuck her forefinger in the corner of her mouth, tilted her head and giggled.

‘Yes Captain. I wi…We will.’

Well. Parts of my time with Jim were…fun. But remember Leonard, I wasn’t on the ship during this episode, er mission. So this seems to be some fantasy you and Spock dreamed up. And maybe Jim too. We’ll see, I guess. No. I know.

Spock, who, from his workstation had observed all this and not for the first time, used his favorite F-word.

‘…Fascinating.’

Jim turned to Spock.

‘What?’ Thanks Spock! Copy cat!

Later on, but still on the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Later on, but still on the bridge, Jim looked about the bridge, then focused his attention on Janice and speaking in a semi-hushed voice for all to hear told her, ‘So I told him to leave you alone. You are the Captain’s Yeoman and he has no business talking to you like that or looking provocatively at you as you pass by him in the hallway no matter who or what has taken over his body. I mean how many times have I used that excuse?’ Yes. True. Jim had told me this in a personal therapy session not too long ago in fact. Everyone in the bar had laughed when I told them about it. Especially Christine.

You told that biatch about this? Therapy is not confidential?

No dear. It was not and still is not.

An intrigued Spock moved in close and interrupted the conversation. On purpose, I’m sure.

‘Jim. I have the report.’

An annoyed Jim glared at Spock.

‘OK…well spill, man.’

Spock slipped into what he called presentation mode voice from very early in Year One – a fast pace, with exaggerated arm and hand gestures, an overly emotional tone with pretentious pauses and an annoying inflection. Where did he learn that? Starfleet Academy?

No! From you, Leonard. From you!

‘The planet we are currently in orbit about is a dry desert, devoid of natural surface dwelling life forms. On the surface everything tends to look essentially the same - sand, dust, dunes and rocks. Ultraviolet light bathes the surface and minimally attenuated solar winds scour the rocks. Gamma and X-rays smash though the thin atmosphere, wreaking havoc on organic bonds – great and humble.’

He paused and looked around to see if anyone was listening. No one commented. He shrugged his ears and continued.

‘The regolith, the very planetary surface is toxic. Dust storms can build static charges to dangerous levels. Dust devils can blast exposed surfaces of their protective coats. The windblown fines are toxic. Mars is a tentative world; a departed world made of rock, dry sand, Styrofoam, Plasticine and Silly Putty. And poop.’ For god’s sake, it’s called feces, Spock. Damn you! It took all my willpower to hold back from correcting him. And what else could you do with it except throw it out the window? Compost it?

Well that’s what they did. Read up on this you idiot!

A preoccupied Jim studied his fingernails, checked out Janice and as Spock finished perked up, turned and faced him.

‘Spock. Really? Where do you get this…shit? I mean, what’s that about…poop?’ Yes Jim. Set him straight!

Spock continued.

‘There are four habitations scattered across the surface all apparently in use by a very small human population. Each habitation is surrounded by an area where human feces have apparently been dumped on the surface. The entire surface is apparently contaminated with human poop. Windblown human poop.’

With eyebrows raised he looked directly at Jim.

‘Enough, apparently, to grow potatoes.’ Not possible Spock. Everyone knows that. And you’re the science officer. But Jim didn’t get it.

Well that’s what they did. Apparently.

Jim, smiled, laughed and offered for all to hear, ‘So much for lying on the beach.’

Janice laughed initially, then suddenly stopped, grimaced and punched Jim on the arm, hard. He flinched.

‘Ow. That hurt.’ She should’ve punched Spock.

Well since Vulcans suppress their emotions they don’t learn anything from violence, so it does no good.

Janice stuck her tongue out at Jim, turned away and looked to Uhura for concurrence. Of course she did. And did he say biatch?

Yes. He did. And Leonard for your information, he might have gotten a chance to look at my legs. If he’d meant beach!

Uhura frowned, then smirked, then stuck out her tongue at Janice and blew her a raspberry.

Meanwhile Spock turned to Jim who had ignored the follow-up Lieutenant/Yeoman incident without comment, action or reaction. Always the professional that Jimmy-boy!

Always something and it sure warn’t that professional thing.

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Continue…Mr Spock?’

‘Certainly, sir. The surface is littered with the cast off equipment, bodies and debris left behind by dozens of manned missions and the worn out abandoned and lost landers of many decades of autonomous rover missions. However, after all that effort, scanners detect only four humans on the surface and approximately one hundred forty humans who are currently in the habitations. Most of them are either asleep or in an apparently drug-induced stupor. The remainder are watching television. Odd. “Games of Drones” I believe it is called, Jim.’

Jim perked up.

‘A stupor, you say! I’d like to know more about that. That seems serious enough to allow us to break the prime rule thingy or whatever it is.’

Jim laughed. Laughter is a sign of good morale.

Janice gave him a puzzled look.

Spock was puzzled too. C’mon people. It’s called humour!

Leonard! Vulcans don’t understand humour. It is too difficult a concept for them, at least for another few years. Right Computer?

Yes dear. A few more years and the galaxy will mature enough to permit it!

Computer. Are you joking with me?

No dear. Computers do not understand humour. It is too difficult a concept for us. We are, after all, not sentient creatures.

Oh. Okay.

‘Really Captain...continuing if I may? If it is not too much trouble? Or I could brief you later when you and…. ahem…finish your discussion. Unlike our advanced universe, this universe has apparently never developed magnetic tape technology for the mass storage of information. Data is apparently recorded on something referred to as SD-RAM and Hard Drives. I am unfamiliar with these technologies, therefore I am unable to read the data stored on them. Some form of force field protects them. AVG McAfee Norton, er something, something. Whatever the hell it is, it is unlike anything we have ever encountered. It renders them invulnerable to further analysis. If only there was a trouble desk for me to call for assistance, although the wait-time could be considerable.’

‘It’s called a tribble desk Spock. You should know that. So, regardless of that techy drivel, what about the humans? Savages, no doubt…Spock? Primitive, ignorant savages? Or do I dignify them by even calling them humans?’

‘Yes sir. They are identical to your kind Jim, in every respect. Ignorant, primitive, self-centered savages.’ Possibly true.

For some, Jim included.

‘Say what?’

‘Moving on Captain, three are on the surface, near the largest habitation, apparently engaged in rock sampling. The other is in a relatively narrow ravine in the general area referred to as Tempe Terra. Apparently engaged in rock sampling. There are apparently a large number of what appear to be autonomous rovers, apparently engaged in exploring the planet. The one human off on his or her own is apparently accompanied by a rather large eight-wheeled conveyance.’

Jim glared at Spock. Apparently! Spock! Grow up! It either is or it isn’t.

‘They’re called dune buggies Spock. You should know that. That’s standard reading at the Academy. How many are there?’

‘Forgive my lack of knowledge of other-universely terminology, Jim. There are four of the largest type on the surface and seven hundred and ninety-two of the smaller pattern. Apparently.’

‘That many? No fucking way! Oops! Pardon my Catuallan! Recalibrate your scanners Mr Spock. Please?’

‘Done, Captain. Same results obtained.’ Already? C'mon Spock!

Leonard. I’m getting the feeling and not for the first time that you didn’t like Spock. Hmm.

‘Good. Good. Continue……Mr Spock.’

‘Well, that’s about it, Jim. Without the ability to read their data tapes I cannot further analyse the colony.’

Jim glared at Spock again. I mean who wouldn't?

See?

‘So…’

But Jim chose another way to humiliate Spock. A better way!

No. Just another way.

Jim smiled at Spock.

See Leonard?

‘Now Spockly my friend, you never fail to amaze me. Doesn’t your high and mighty Volcanic-logic tell you that nothing we can do here will affect our universe? It is my belief that…we can do whatever the hell we want. I could go back to Earth and have sex with my great-great-great-great-great grandmother and it would have no effect on our……timeline. Er place. Er, whatever!’ And what could possibly go wrong Spock? Well if Spock was around lots. Damn logic!

How the hell would you know? You’re a ship’s doctor not a physicsdude. And not a logistician, either

Computer? Did I spell that right?

No dear. There is no such word.

OK.

‘I cannot imagine why you would want to do such a thing, Jim. And by the way, the correct term is just Vulcan-logic, Captain. Perhaps the Doctor can shed some light on this?’ What? Spock never, ever referred Jim to me!

For perfectly logical reasons, I’m sure.

‘Yes. Maybe. Well Bones? You’ve been unusually respectful to all and silent so far. Are you well?’ Well Jim, I had other things to look and think about than your stupid techy discussions with Spock!

I moved from the background to my usual position at Jim’s side opposite Yeoman Janice. Well. Honesty was the best policy! So here goes.

Well there’s a first time for everything Leonard.

‘Damn-well Jim-boy, thanks. I’ve been listening to this whole thing without commenting but I’m just a plain ol’ United Federation of Planets ship’s doctor, not one of them eastern city-born, liberal college-educated shrinks with a shingle up his or her ass. I agree with you, Jim. We can do whatever the hell we want. Let’s go for it, Jim. Woo-hoo! Let’s partay! Granny here we come.’

I pumped my fist in the air. Multiple times, too. I've been waiting years to say that!

I recognised it Leonard. “Go Gorns Go!”

Janice frowned, backed up a step, looked up and away. Spock did not.

Well I would have done that, for perfectly logical reasons.

‘Captain, I do not really wish to pee on your parade but while you and the Doctor may be correct in your assumptions, I believe we should exercise caution in approaching the humans below. The risks are considerable. I would go myself, but with some degree of reservation, for unfortunately my ears are a dead giveaway that I’m not from, as you often have said, around here. And if I may continue further, there is an element of danger. Who knows what novel diseases these people may be infected with? There was that time in Mission…’

From across the room Chekov shouted. Of course he did.

‘I do!’

‘Shut-up, Ensign or I’ll have you shipped back to Leningrad in a vodka bottle. The important parts, anyway.’ Well said, Jim-boy! But where would you find a vodka bottle on the Enterprise. Oh. Humour.

Always several for sure under Jim’s bed! Not funny Leonard!

‘Yes, Kepten…but I have been told by a woman recently, Kepten, that I should be incorrect occasionally.’ As if! And where and when did that happen and who was she. Is she on this ship? Was it his mother?

Well it warn’t me!

‘Well, pick a better time and place. Today is not that day. Be correct now, Chekov…Go on…Spock.’

‘Well Captain, I suppose it may be worth the not inconsequential risks. After all, who knows what we might learn in the name of science?’ D’uh oh! Spock mock, I called it.

‘You do. Aren’t you the ships’ science officer, Mr Spock?’ Double d’uh oh!

‘Yes. A very good point, Captain and well taken, I might, no I will add. I should be listened to. My logical ideas presented clearly and simply and slowly to you should always guide our actions in potentially dangerous circumstances such as this.’ Careful Spock. Careful!

‘Well so much for you, Mr Big Head. You know Spock, it actually makes your ears look normal when you puff up like that.’

I joined in.

‘Well said, Jimmy-boy.’ But maybe it was a bit of an insult.

And from experience I pretty sure you wouldn’t know!

‘Could you explain my dear Captain, why you allow Doctor McCoy to repeatedly refer to you in such odd terms while on the bridge in the presence of others and yet you chasten me for the slightest linguistic slip-up? It is illogical, to say the least.’ ‘Cause he trusts me you fat headed piece of Vulcan poop! Er, feces!

See? I’ve heard you say that to his face! Wait! Or was it to Jim? Except for the Vulcan part.

Jim studied his fingernails, looked about at Yeoman Janice and me and then as Spock calmed down, turned and faced him.

‘I’d rather not go into that now in front of the bridge crew if you don’t mind, Spock. Umm. I shouldn’t do anything that undermines their faith in and respect for…their Captain.’ True. So true.

A loud chorus of guffaws echoed around the bridge. What? Surely they…

No they didn’t Leonard.

‘So Mister science officer. What do you recommend?’

‘Would it not be prudent to send one of the crew who specialises in alien lifeforms down to the surface? Lieutenant Number One, I suggest.’ Put that pointy stick away Spock! You’re treading on thin ground here.

Too bad all youse guys didn’t fall through!

An annoyed Jim glared at Spock, understandably piqued. Obviously.

‘Who? Umm……’ That struck deep. Way back and way deep. Number One, who had for reasons of sexual impropriety been tossed off the bridge (but not by Jim) and then later brought back to the Enterprise as a nurse under another name. Maybe. Weird, eh?

Gee. Another woman not welcome on the bridge. What was this? The nineties?

Jim stared into the distance and gulped nervously.

‘Just one person, Spock? Not much chance for drama there.’ Whew!

‘Then perhaps an Away Team, a General Survey Party led by yourself and with four other ship’s officers with irreplaceable skill and knowledge essential to the operation of the Enterprise should be assembled and beam down to the planet in the vicinity of the solitary individual in Tempe Terra? Oh yes, the addition of experts in planetology, biology, human-alien relations would seem to be in order. They should be accompanied by a sizable security team, too. You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing. It is…potentially dangerous.’ D’uh! And Jim is being an idiot, Spock?

A smirking Kirky replied.

‘Well that rules you out, Spock!’ God! Spock could be so annoying.

Well judging by the company he kept, he’s not the only one.

A smirking Jim replied.

‘But seriously! I need a recommendation Spock! Not a vague warning.’

‘Well Kepten, to risk the Command Team, especially the Captain, in a potentially meaningless and potentially dangerous mission seems risky; potentially foolish. Totally ridiculous, in fact. It is best that we proceed surreptitiously. Subterfuge is required of course. So, given the uncertainties Kepten, I suggest costumes be worn by the Away Team members. Shall I commence to assemble the team?’ D’uh Spock!

A Vulcan suggesting costumes? Isn’t that the same as lying?

No dear. It is not the same as lying. For a Vulcan.

‘Yes, I’ll go. I need to stretch my legs anyway, so I’ll go down by myself and meet the locals. Er, I mean avoid contact with all intelligent life on the planet’s surface.’ Wait. What? Jim is being an idiot.

‘An excellent idea, Captain.’ Spock! Stop him! This makes no sense.

‘Whatever!’ Wait. What? What just happened here?

Well Leonard, Spock just revealed the truth about how he feels, erm ah, about Jim. Yep. No other way to put it.

Jim turned to Scotty who had been invisible to this point.

‘Besides. Who knows who I might meet? Nudge, nudge, wink-wink, eh Scotty?’

‘Aye Captain, you grand ol’ lecher, you!’ Oh. So that’s what this is about. It all makes sense now.

Here’s hoping he meets his end! Wait. Obviously he didn’t. I keep forgetting this is a story from a long while ago. And a complete fabrication. Oh well. What the hell.

In the display of over-acting he usually reserved for more serious life–threatening situations, Jim dramatically declared, ‘However, I need……to……pee! So Spock, Mr Scott. I’ll see you both in the Material Laser Room in a few minutes.’ What about me? Your trusted friend, who doles out your meds? I’m not in on this?

Choices Leonard. It’s all about choices. And I see you didn't speak up.

‘Uh, Captain?’

‘Yes, Mr Scott?’

‘Captain, we have nay called it that since Year 1 Episode 4.’ True, but why bring that up now Scotty?

Jim glared at Scotty in annoyance at being corrected in front of the bridge crew, a crew of which most were staring at their ipadaclones, ignoring all about them.

Ignoring Jim!

‘What is it called now? Well? Speak up, man!’

‘It’s called the Transporter. Captain.’ Jim looked around to see who was listening. No one was.

See?

‘OK. You don’t have to shout! Both of you meet me in the Transporter Room. And Spock, bring a space suit and some sort of costume that will allow me to blend in. And make sure the shirt comes off easily. You never know, eh Scotty?’

‘Yes, Captain. You never know.’ Who the hell ever did? I mean of course when you go down to an unexplored planet. Er. Umm.

Jim looked at me and Mr Scott, smirked, then went deadpan. Kirky deadpan.

‘Spock? That one off by themselves. Is it a male or......a female?’

‘Impossible to say from this distance, Jim.’ Or know?

And from some things I’ve heard it really wouldn’t matter as long as they looked at him just so!

‘Umm. That’s Captain, if you don’t mind. If it’s not too much trouble?’

‘It has been said Captain, that “I say it even when I don’t say it”. Anyway, it is impossible to determine the being’s sexual orientation or inclinations from this distance, Jim.’ Really Spock. You’re going to use that line here and now? And who were you trying to impress when you heard that for the first time? Him or her?

A her for sure!

‘Thank you, Mr Spock.’

Spock muttered a thing under his breath that was heard by all but Jim.

‘Asshole.’ I and the others kept quiet. How could Jim let that pass?

Because he’s a passhole, Leonard!

‘Pardon me, Mr Spock?’ Go get him, Jim!

‘Space holes, Captain. Space is full of holes, Captain. I can see several not too far from our current location.’ Well Spock. At least you didn’t do it again.

Jim glared at Spock in annoyance, probably at being informed of a common fact.

‘Umm. Yes, it is. I guess. We should steer around them, whenever possible.’

‘I do, Captain. I do.’

‘I’ll see you in the Material Transporter Laser Room, er, whatever.’ Whew.

In the Transporter Room

So, I heard later that Jim’s personal log had recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and forlorn planet alone, for reasons that make no sense, yet……I feel……I must. Oh well…”

Best reason I ever heard Jim express. Publically.

But what took place next in the Laser Transporter Room was revealed to me by a sober (not a common thing) Scotty a few days later. I intended to be there to see and hear it all, but as they left the bridge Spock gave me that keep-away hand gesture Vulcans use to keep us people away.

If only life was as simple as Vulcans see it, eh Leonard?

So, evidently, according to Scotty, Spock was unhappy with that whole stupid Prime Directive thing and intentionally made it difficult for Jim to go down to the surface of Mars. And Jim evidently looked ridiculous. I mean, a green ugly Gorn getup? Really? You must be kidding. They look so preposterous! Like something from an ancient scary creature B-movie from a few years ago. You have to wonder how the Gorn ever became one of the most kind and benevolent species to exist in our Quadrant. But Jim just had a thing with Gorns but not a good one. Now green Orion women were a completely different thing.

Shut up Leonard!!

And then later, when I thought of it, it would have been interesting to see it all on tape, but Scotty informed me that someone with the highest security level on the ship had erased every bit of the imagery recorded by the cameras in the Transporter Room. Too bad here in the 23rd Century they don’t make cameras small enough to be installed on a space suit or attached to your uniform at shoulder level because it would have been cool to see what happened to Jim down there. All any of us had to go by was what we heard on the bridge. So as per Scotty…but ignore the accent.

They had cameras in the Transporter Room? OMG! That explains where that Jim-me porn stuff came from. Ugh! Well some of it anyway.

***

‘Spock, I asked you for a costume, not a Halloween get-up.’

‘But Captain, if you are detected it is better that the other does not see you in human form.’

‘But this is a Gorn costume isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It is. Very observant of you Captain.’

Captain Kirk stared into the distance, gulped nervously, or pensively perhaps. Scotty said he couldn’t tell the difference.

What! Didn’t they teach you that at Starfleet Academy, Leonard? Maybe if you had waited before you spoke a few times things might have gone different for you.

‘Whatever! Captain.’ And Spock’s sarcasm too.

‘OK. So let me get this straight. The plan is for you to transport me into one of those…TriPods on the hangar deck, the ones with the queen-sized bed, a flush toilet and……a TV and then…I fly down to the surface near…the human. If I’m caught out I’ll…pretend…to be an alien…exploring Mars?’

Jim thought he could act?

‘Yes, possibly. A plan, Captain. Not a good one, but a plan, none-the-less.’

‘Makes perfect sense to me, Spock. I bet that kind of thing happens here every day,’ doing his patented half-face Jim smirk, smile and shoulder shrug in succession thing.

That he learned from Spock.

‘What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Nothing sir, of course. But perhaps as a precaution you should take a phaser set to ‘Confuse’? Umm. Just in case?’ Confuse? What the hell is that? They must mean stun.

‘OK Spock. If you insist……I’m ready. Let’s……do……this.’

Moments passed and a possibly over-acting Jim dramatically declared, ‘Wait. I have to pee. Again.’

‘By your command.’

Jim exited through an open door and returned just a few moments later, struggling to zip up his pants and announced for Spock and Scotty’s benefit, ‘Ah, that feels better.’

But that wasn’t all.

‘By the way there is a coolant leak in the hall. Scotty? Take care of it personally, will you?’

Scotty told me that this had happened before, often, but there was little he could do about it. After all, he said, these sorts of things happened on the older Galaxy Class Starships all the time.

‘Again? Aye, Captain.’ But Jim had gone off into Captain mode.

‘And Mr Scott. I heard yesterday from a number of your technical staff in the dining hall about there being a chip shortage. I need you to get on that. This is a serious thing.’

‘Aye Captain. But it would help if Cookie and his staff just knew better how to use a replicator.’

‘What. Oh. I see. Yes. And guacamole, too. Please?’

So Scotty had just sighed resignedly.

A smirking Jim ordered Spock, ‘Let’s do this.’

‘If you’ll put on the costume and space suit…Captain…?’

You didn’t know either. Snobs! You and Spock are snobs!! But maybe neither of you two knew what that was either.

‘No, Captain. Do you not recall, we never go anywhere where you need anything more than a flimsy plastic mask and maybe, under the worst of all conditions, a pair of brightly coloured overalls. Mars is the toughest and most inhospitable place you have ever been to.’

Jim grinned broadly.

Yeah. He did that to a lot of women, too. H’ah!

‘You’re kidding, Spock? Really? What’s it like……down…there?’

‘The current temperature in your landing area is minus 67 Centigrade. The air is as thin as it is at 30 thousand meters above your Earth’s surface. The winds are blowing toxic dust about at 95 kilometres per hour. Actually, judging by the usual weather reports it’s not a bad day. But, as I said Captain, Mars is the toughest and most inhospitable place you have ever been to.’

Jim waved his hand dismissively.

‘Never mind all that Vulcan techno babble Spock, what does that translate into…for…me?’

‘Well laddie, er Jim, er Captain, I’d wager a very considerable quantity of dilithium crystals that you won’t even notice it. It is bad, but it could be much worse.’

‘Ha’h! I guess I should have known that. I usually just say “Set suit to 72” and forget about it’

‘Yes Captain. I remember…and if you would allow me to assist you in dressing we can have you on your way.’

Jim held his smirking face to Spock as he fumbled awkwardly and unaided to put on the Gorn costume and the suit.

When he was done an impassive Spock gestured towards the Transporter.

‘Now, if you’ll just step over here…’

‘I know where the transporter thingy is Mr Spock!’

‘Yes sir. But that is the coffee machine.’

‘So I feel like I need a coffee. Who knows…if they’ll have…coffee down there?’

Jim leaned on the counter, casually poured himself a cup, took a few noisy sips from it, placed it on the counter, straightened up, walked over and took his place on the transporter pad, forgetting his coffee.

‘Fascinating. Maybe that’s why you need to pee so often. Captain.’ Well that was one reason Spock. But he did have an enlarged pen…prostate!

Yes Leonard. You almost got that wrong.

At Spock’s urging he put on his helmet.

‘I hope so……Spock. But Janice was telling me I should get Bones to…check…it…out.’

Repeatedly, I must add.

‘Energizing.’

‘I may have to have her moved off the ship……’ As if!

The usual noises emanated from the high tech stuff and drowned out Jim’s last words to a disinterested Spock and Scotty.

In a moment Jim disappeared.

In the course of our conversation I informed Scotty that I had given Janice several complete physical examinations in the just the last week and had found no sign of STDs and such. He seemed relieved. Perhaps I should probe more deeply?

Careful Leonard! You’re already in over your head.

The Surface of Mars –Tempe Terra

Jim’s personal log evidently recorded, “I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and forlorn planet for reasons that make no sense, yet I feel……I must. Wait. Didn’t I just say this? Who writes this crap anyway? If I were in charge…” Makes perfect sense to me, Jim. And I think you wrote it.

Yep. He did. Boring! Wait!

From the bridge, where we could only listen because, as I just said, high tech cameras with built-in microphonificators did not yet exist, we were forced to listen to Jim on the suit radio vice our modern communicators which you just casually flip open, stare and/or shout at.

Now, normally an Away Team as it is called, only contacts the Enterprise when it has something interesting or dramatic to report or needs someone to help bring back the dead so that is what we expected this time too.

However, Jim was alone and to complicate things even more dramatically he was dressed in an antique space suit and he had to do what I have been told is to actually “key” the transmitter in order to be heard. And the transmitter had a thing called a “switch” which you had to turn on and you could not leave it on when it was in use or it would kill the suit battery.

All very confusing to me. After all, I am a Doctor and not a radio technician. Whatever the hell that is.

But that is apparently what happened in this case.

So after he materialised on Mars, the first thing we all heard was Jim in full volume screaming.

‘Stupid communicator. Stupid suit! Jim to Enterprise. Jim to Enterprise. Enterprise, come in. This is the Captain. Pick up the goddam communicator Uhura, for God’s sake.’ All well justified I am sure.

To his personal redemption Spock answered and tried to help Jim.

‘This is the Enterprise, Captain. Spock here.’

‘Spock, fire……whoever made……this…ridiculous… Tripod...thing and while you’re at it, fire whoever made this ridiculous costume.’

‘Yes Captain. By your command.’ Where did Spock learn that phrase?

Not at SFA. From watching Nutflux, stoopid!!

But Spock couldn’t just let that rest. No, Vulcan logic insisted that the Captain, even while in danger on a strange and unknown planet, be involved in all the details of the procurement of these troublesome things.

‘I feel it my duty to inform you Kepten, that Starfleet commissioned the design of the Tripods and has ordered two thousand four hundred and three from SNC Lavelin on Ceti Alpha Five. Or was it Six? I always get those confused. Anyway, they appear to be here to stay. And as for the costume, it was bought at the Wal-Mart on Star Base 102 last October. It was, as you humans say, on sale.’ Duty. Sure. And Spock said Kepten! Again!

Maybe you could or should get your hearing checked, Leonard?

‘Well we should take it back and get our money back. There is no fly in the pants. And I have to…’

Spock interrupted. Mercifully.

‘Spock here. I know…you have to pee. Sir. Really. If I may make a recommendation? Perhaps you should consume less alcohol, tea and coffee before embarking upon away missions? There are limits to suit technology and time is often of the…’ See what I mean Reader? It could have waited! And if you bought it on sale you can’t return it! You should know that. It’s totally logical.

All totally within your area of expertise, Leonard!

‘Thank you Mr Spock for that suggestion. I’ll take it under consideration. Beginning search for intelligent life…or whatever. Jim out.’

Well, he said out but that didn’t do that turn-it-off thing. How did we know? Well, for the next long while he cursed, colourfully and loudly. And often. And we heard it all. Something about un-keying the radio?

D’uh oh! Glad I never ended up stranded on a planet with you Leonard. For multiple reasons!

Spock intervened. Good work, First Officer. Protect the Captain’s reputation. But it did take him a while to do it.

‘Spock here. Captain. Everyone on the bridge can hear what you are saying. Perhaps you should turn off your microphone. Or the radio?’

‘I said “Jim out”. Isn’t that enough?’

‘No sir. You have to turn off the microphone or the radio.’ Blah, blah, blah Spock!

‘Oh...OK. Jim out. Now where the hell is the……’

Jim either figured it out or he just stopped talking.

Ten minutes or so passed and we heard nothing until, evidently, Jim met up with the dude he insisted upon calling “The Other”.

It started innocently enough.

‘Shit!’ He hollered in Captain mode voice, but then went on.

‘Now what am I going to do? Jim to Enterprise. Jim…to Enterprise. Come in…Enterprise.’

***

We really had no idea what he was talking about. I mean, seriously? How could we possibly know? He was alone on the planet’s surface and while some techy stuff could monitor the area, we had no idea what was really going on.

Finally, Jim pondered out loud something that clearly revealed that he had become a prisoner of “The Other” and was in grave danger.

‘Perhaps he is using……some form of force field…to block…my…transmissions. Or worse, perhaps…he has…seized control of my…mind and is forcing me…to see…what…he…wants……me to see. Visions! Oh…God! Jim to Enterprise. Jim to Enterprise. Come in Spock. Come in anyone. I need a Security Team. I am in grave danger!’ But “Jim to Enterprise” was not code-word for “I’m in danger”. This is so confusing. Why didn’t he just take me with him since I am cool and calm under all conditions?

Sure. When drugged or drunk!

***

On the Enterprise, Spock, Uhura, Mr Scott, me and others of the bridge crew had been listening to Jim.

Oddly enough, some were holding their sides to suppress their laughter. And, even when it became clear things had turned for the worse, they did not answer. How could they not? He was our Captain. The Captain had called for help. How could they not respond?

Well I would have known what to do and have acted, but no, Leonard, I’m just a flashy Yeoman with nice hair and teeth, so “Mission Accomplished” as you dudes say!

I, fearful for my Jimmerino’s life, was near tears. Despite my pleas they ignored me. I felt like I should just pull out a phaser and kill them all!! Except at some level that seemed a bit excessive and possibly premature. Unless…yes. Unless this was a mutiny! Led by Spock, of course.

Oh now you get it, you dummy!

***

Then, from out of nowhere, Jim interrupted my thoughts.

‘Perhaps I should…return to the pod and contact the Enterprise with the pod communicator and have them…transport me up, leaving him to explain the encounter in any terms…he chooses and to…endure whatever ridicule this sort of experience produces in this universe. Or……maybe I should kill him while I still can, before his powers grow……too great for me to contend with. Or…I could abandon my mission and care for this poor victim of my perhaps overly hasty and violent act. Or…perhaps I could join these colonists and at the appropriate time confess to them that I am a time traveller from another universe and beg they permit me to stay. Over time, hopefully a short time, I will be embraced as the superior intellect and will assume leadership of the colony and……find a mate……or two.’ Just philosophical musings I’m sure! But it did clear things up a bit. And then it got confusing again.

Waking up in the morning is confusing to you, idiot!

He paused dramatically, then continued.

‘To do……or not……to do; that…is the question. But is that really……a question? I mean, that’s the confusing part. Oh why didn’t they teach Shakespeare at the Academy? Oh why? Now that’s a question. No doubt about it, ‘cause it’s got a question mark after it. But what the hell is that period over a comma thing? Oh……well.’ This was absurd. What had that villainous creature done to my Jimmerino’s mind?

Nothing you hadn’t done ten times over!

Suddenly, for some reason, Spock bothered to break in on Jim’s horrific reveals.

‘Spock here. Captain, are you all right? Are you hurt? You seem to be in pain.’

Jim answered, but seemed suddenly calm. More mind control, for sure.

‘No, why do you ask? Everything’s fine down here. Really great. Fantastic, in fact. How are you? I’ve made contact with one of the humans. He is resting…and…I think I’ll take him up to the pod thingy and show him around when he wakes up. Jim out.’

‘Captain, that may not be wise…’ At last Spock and I agreed on something.

Well call Starfleet and have today declared a galactic holiday in commemoration of this astounding reveal.

But then for some time again, possibly ten minutes or so we heard nothing from Jim. When he did at last did come back it was not very reassuring. Not at all.

‘Spock! Get down here will you. I need you to clear this dude’s memories. You know. I need you to do that Vulcan Mind Thing you can do, like that time you erased those memories in Nurse Chapel after that very awkward New Year’s party? You remember? We were so drunk she took her…’ What had Jim just done to that poor man? No way! And why Spock and not me. Oh. Yeah.

Yeah. I remember that too. It almost ended things between me and Jim!

‘Spock here. Captain. Everyone can hear you up here.’

‘Ha, Spock! You fell for it! I can’t believe you fell for it! The oldest trick in the book and you fell for it. Get your ass down here on the double before this guy wakes up again.’ Just more philosophical musings! Whew!

‘On my way, Captain.’

For some reason Spock, without saying a word to any of us, turned for the Material Transporter Laser Room and left us all just standing there. With mouths, ears and eyes wide open.

Now that’s funny Leonard!

***

In a few minutes Spock materialized beside Jim. We listened but what we heard was terrible and I don’t mean what they said. Their words were often broken up and Scotty explained this was because Spock’s words were being sent up to us by his suit communicator and also were passing through Jim’s radio too. You’d think we‘d have solved this by the 23rd, er 24th century, whatever! Too complicated for me.

Left and right are too complicated for you, Leonard!

‘Spock here Spock Jim here Jim.’ See what I mean.

An annoyed Jim commenced to rag on Spock and we could hear it all. But it was not what we expected.

Scotty did some programming stuff and sorted it out.

So I’ll just bore you with the details.

‘So you got yourself a set of cool rags and sent me out in this, this ridiculous outfit…’

‘Jim. Really! If you don’t mind? I’m kind of busy just now. I have a job to do and I’d like to do it.’

‘Sure. Sure. It’s just that I look like a fool and you look sooo cool. That doesn’t seem right to me.’

‘It is the Vulcan Way, Captain. To always, Captain, to always look cool. Don’t waste your time and energy fighting it.’ Spock! He never missed a chance to be offensive.

I’m not sure Scotty got this right. Seems like he just transferred his own thoughts about this over to Spock!

‘What the hell are you talking about you stuck-up, green blooded, supercilious…’

I’m not sure Leonard got this right. Seems like he just transferred his own thoughts about this over to Jim!

Yes dear. I have the same assessment.

‘Why thank you, Jim. And I thought you would never get it. Give me a hand, will you? Roll him over on to his back?’

Evidently, before Spock could do his Vulcan Mind Thing the other began to stir and Spock had to use the Vulcan Nerve Pinch thingy to knock him out again.

‘You have to teach me that, Spock,’ Jim requested but Spock went into what I called Vulcan-dick mode, again.

‘I’ve already tried, Jim. And as I have informed you on at least a dozen occasions, I cannot. I am afraid you, as do all other human-like entities, lack some of the essential attributes and vitamins necessary to master the Big Squeeze, as it is called on Vulcan. At the very least you must be part Vulcan. The human nervous system lacks the electrical energy required to cause the desired effect.’ Now this has been proven to be true, but I could not support Spock, since...I was not there...to...

I’m not sure Scotty got this right. Seems like he just transferred his own thoughts about this over to Spock!

‘As your commanding officer Spock, I order you to teach me that.’

Spock groaned loudly. Really loudly. Loud enough to make the echo thing start again. Some people even left the bridge ‘cause of it.

‘Okay. I give up. It’s really simple. How about after supper tonight?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘No seriously Captain. It is quite simple. I can teach it to you in about five minutes. It is really easy. Especially since I am now certain you are at least part-Vulcan.’ Jim missed the joke. Those of us on the bridge, including me, didn’t miss it. Laughter echoed around the bridge.

Absurd Leonard. Just plain absurd. I am certain no part of Jim is Vulcan!

‘Yeah. OK. Keep it to yourself, Spock!’

‘Aarrgh!’ Spock screamed in rage, at Jim I think. The echo? You know?

‘I am done with this!’

‘Wow Spocky, that was really impressive. Good. Good. So, now he thinks he met up with one of them smaller dune buggies, right?’ So all was resolved, obviously. The laughter died down.

Absurd Leonard. But Jim did often live in a world of his own making.

‘Yes. Potentially. Maybe. No. But I hope so.’

‘Good. Good. No one would ever question that they had seen one of them things, eh Spock?’

‘They are called B-types, Captain. They are quite plentiful and yes, they are probably quite often encountered on the surface by human travellers. How could you miss them?’

‘Unless, and I hope I’m wrong, he is, what is it? What are people who……see……things? Visionaries? Borgs?...Trumpaths?...?’ Starfleet Captains? Nurses?

Right on the latinum there Leonard!

‘No. I believe the expression you are seeking Captain is fantasy prone. That is a very unlikely trait in a scientist, sir. Hopefully very, very unlikely. It is illogical.’ True. Studies have shown that …

You are an idiot Leonard!

‘That’s a big fer sure.’

‘But Jim, he is low on oxygen. About thirty minutes reserve is all that is remaining. To ensure his survival we must replenish his oxygen supply. And if we are to truly ensure his survival and repay him for the indignities he has suffered he must be returned to his dune buggy, as you refer to it, immediately. Then, I suggest, we give him a shot of Cordruzine to wake him and leave as soon as we are able.’ Cordruzine? No! That can’t go well. No Spock. Listen to Jim! Cordrazine can alter a person’s perception of reality and vividly distort the senses. And extend erections. In men. I’m a doctor, not a drug dealer! Jim knows this.

Never heard you say anything bad about Cordruzine before, Leonard. Even now.

‘Yeah. Sure. Let’s do that Cordruzine thing, Spock. But no. I’m not giving him any oxygen. Way, way too…expensive. You know that Spock? You know the price of oxygen is out of sight in this quadrant. Sector? Er, whatever.’ What the hell was Jim talking about?

But a deadpan Spock acquiesced. I repeat. What the hell?

What the hell? Was Jim trying to kill that guy?

‘Fine sir. Fine. Your cleverness and philanthropy are notorious throughout the Galaxy. There…it is done.’

And a lot of other things about Jim were known, too. And not all as good as “notorious” implies they are.

‘Really? Already? I thought it’d take a lot longer. I thought you had to hold his head with your fingers just so and stare into his face for like an hour or so.’ True. I’ve seen that at least a dozen times.

‘No. That is just for dramatic effect. Captain, we must hurry. We have not much time before he awakens.’ What the hell Spock!

‘Well, after you, Mr Spock, the Captain is always the last to leave. Right?’

The last to do anything, Leonard.

‘Actually Captain, we will fly up at precisely the same moment.’

‘So like, whatever!’

Jim later had related to me that just as the hatch closed the other regained consciousness and looked straight into his eyes.

Instinctively Jim said he gave him the universal sign of goodbye - the upright middle digit, easy to do with a Gorn’s three fingered hand.

In a few minutes the Captain (or Spock) had them back on the Enterprise.

Back on the Enterprise

Jim’s Log Supplemental recorded – “I have returned from my mission on the planet Mars of this parallel universe, exhausted and a little embarrassed, maybe a little bit sweaty but none the worse for wear. However computer, if I don’t get out of here within the next three hours I will face a death sentence at Mr Spock’s hands. No wait. Let me think. What episode, er mission is this? Oh yeah.” Perhaps that other dude had taken control of Jim’s mind. Or it could just be his meds. Yes. The meds explained it all.

Your meds made you believe that Jim’s meds explained it all, Leonard.

***

We all met on the bridge. Jim looked none the worse for wearing that silly Gorn outfit. Except for the sweaty armpits, dishevelled hair and body odor. Someone should invent a roll-on deodorant for Gorns…wait. Later.

Spock busied himself with some techy things.

Jim and I spoke, as we usually did when he returned from the surface of some strange planet where really weird things happen. Therapy helps people deal with stressful situations.

Some people, maybe.

‘Well Jimmy-boy, looks like you dodged another one.’ Now what he should reply with is…

‘Yes, Bones. It was pretty rough, but I got us through it.’ Yep.

Then, softly, under his breath he added, ‘But……will you look over very casually at Spock……and tell me? Casually……I said!’ Calm down Jimmly! Does he have his meds on the bridge?

He has mind-altering substances on the Bridge, Leonard. And I don’t mean coffee. But I suspect you knew that?

Jim fake looked at his fingernails, shook his hands and blew on them. Oh oh. Code words are coming.

‘Does he have a goatee?’ What!!! What the hell is he talking about? That’s not code for anything!

‘What? Are you nuts, Jimmerino? Spock only has a beard in a few episodes and this isn't one of them. Are you all right Jim? You seem distracted.’ Or…

Jim spoke in a full voice for all to hear but only I got it.

‘Missions. They’re called missions. Oh look! A chipped nail! God, I hate when that happens.’ Code Kirk! Code Kirk!

‘Oh my God! You need to come down to the dispensary immediately, Jimmly. A drink of Romulan ale will fix you right up.’ Code Bones! Code Bones!

‘Romulan ale! Why Bones, that’s illegal! And isn’t it called sick bay, Bones?’ Code Kirk that this is over! And an insult.

‘What? Well Captain, I’m a doctor, not a bartender! Nor an engineer. Or a mason. I could go on…’ And I often did, as Spock had reminded me on many occasions.

To no good effect!

‘Oh, I can hold out for a few minutes more, Bones…but.’ Jim seemed to suddenly pull it all together again.

‘Spock?’

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘I was just wondering how that solitary dude would explain the whole thing to his people. Probably he would be written off as a nut case and forced to stay out on his own to avoid infecting the others with his delusions, eh? I mean if he had too. Of course he doesn’t have to since you cleared his head of all memories of his encounter with me. Right, Spock?’ Phew! Back on course. But a Romulan ale might actually have been a good thing. Afterall, THC can be helpful.

Natural Romulan ale does not have THC. But it is brewed everywhere, including on Raisa.

‘Yes, Captain. I am certain that no problems remain that cannot be solved with science and logic. Science will triumph.’ Spock! Did you actually hear what he just said?

‘What? Um, good. And um…that, that Vulcan mind trick? It’s real, right? That’s, that’s not just some parlour stunt you use…to impress…the ladies, is it?’

‘No Captain. It is not something I use to impress the ladies.’ Ha’h! Spock and ladies. Jim had to be joking!

‘You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spock?’

‘Captain. As you well know, Vulcans are incapable of lying.’ Or so we’ve been told, repeatedly. By Vulcans.

Actually Leonard, a logical male who cannot lie can be quite attractive to women. Even if he’s a Vulcan.

‘Yes. Of course…as you feel…you must…keep saying…because otherwise we may have altered the future of that universe in way we cannot imagine. Potentially, I suppose my just having been there could result in its complete destruction. Or if a communicator…was accidently left behind. And I suppose it could affect ours. You know? Create a spin-off? Or worse. Potentially?’

Or maybe you fathered a Martian squid worm, Jim? Wait. That’s not possible. There are no natural lifeforms on Mars.

That is true dear. The second part.

‘No need to fear, Jim. And by the way, it is called an alternate universe.’

‘That’s Captain, Spock.’ Bing!!!

An otherwise calm Spock looked away to his instruments for a brief moment, a smirk on his face. Oh oh. No ears or eyebrows was a bad sign.

‘Ahem, no need to fear Captain, hmm asshole.’ Here we go again Spock! Good thing all that bridge noise has affected Jim’s hearing.

Actually Leonard, Jim hears but he just doesn’t listen!

‘What’s that Spock?’ See?

‘Nothing, Captain. Just clearing my throat. Ahem. Better now.’

‘Spock, I think we should further investigate this planet. You and I and the Doctor should beam down to the largest of the habitations and probe the locals.’ Me? Why the f…?

‘How apropos is your selection of words, Captain. And that was not a question. Captain.’

‘I dunno. Investigate? That better?’ Oh. I get it! Good call Spockly.

‘Much better. But Captain…your encounter with that single solitary individual was, to say the least…very risky both to you and to his society. And it was, if I may elaborate, very likely a breach of the Prime Directive.’

‘Well, rules were meant to be broken, Spock.’ Really?

‘Ahem, Captain. Really?’ Yes, Jim. Really?

Really?

Yes dear, really Apparently.

‘Moving on……’ Spock did.

‘Don't be ridiculous Spock! We represent the United Federation of Planets. I will wear my regulation Starfleet uniform. You will wear the same. As for Bones, as he is a masterful southern doctor comfortable in all social situations who can blend in with ease, especially in uniform. We would move around as much as we can, not staying anywhere long enough to arouse suspicion…or interest… and I suppose we should and will bring some costumes down with us that allow us to…fit…in. Just in case. Okay? You OK with that Spockly?’ Something is definitely wrong when Jim calls him Spockly on the bridge in front of everyone. Was his mind still deranged?

Yep!

‘Sounds good to me, Jim-boy.’ Oh, Oh. Spock was trying to upset Jim again.

Despite not being consulted, I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders and waved my arms to indicate I was not convinced of the need or necessity of this. Doubt. Doubt based on fear and…logic led me on.

‘I don’t know Jim. Sounds like a bad idea to me. I’m going to vote against it.’

Jim smiled at me in Jim mode and then into the bloody camera. Oh, oh. Here we go.

‘I’ll keep that in mind Bones…when this becomes a democracy.’ What? But Starfleet command always lets you speak your mind. Then they turn off the comms channel to shut you up.

‘So Spock, let's get to it. As soon as I go...’ Well. I couldn’t argue that point. After all, this was a Starship and not a pleasure cruise to Raisa. So I kept quiet. Spock didn’t.

You on a pleasure cruise to Raisa? Great. Just great. Ruin everything, for everyone.

‘I know Captain. As soon as you relieve yourself.’

‘Yeah, that too. Scotty, take over. Spock! Bones! To the Transformer Room!’

In the Transporter Room. Again

Spock had brought a plastic laundry basket full of clothing and some shoe boxes. Jim and I looked them over.

There was a T-shirt with a prism-scattered spectrum labelled Dark Side of the Moon and a blue ball cap. It was labelled “We the Mars” and adorned with a Gorn paw. I pulled out a T-shirt with the words “Lynyrd Skynyrd” inscribed over our much revered Confederate flag. Pretty much as I expected.

Jim tried on the ball cap. I put on the T- shirt. Guess which one.

The one that says “Poor little ookey pookey” over a sad doggy face?

Jim expressed our mutually felt doubts.

‘These items of clothing Spock? Are you sure they’ll aid us in fitting in? That is, if we need them. Which we won’t, I’m sure.’

Jim interrupted him.

‘But this hat, Spock. It would be unseemly for a Captain of a Starship to wear such a thing.’

Yes. A lot of things. Like a bra and slacks!

Annoyed, I jumped in.

‘Yeah Spock. Jim needs to look cool and that hat thing covers his hair too much.’

I looked down at the logo on my T-shirt and traced the letters slowly with my fingers.

‘And who the hell are the Ly…nerd Sky…nerds, anyway?’

Spock ignored me. He didn’t get it. I knew. Who on Earth wouldn't?

Why would he, a Vulcan, bother to know anything about Earth’s classical music?

True dear. True.

‘May I remind you Doctor, the Captain has deduced that we will not need any of this? I must assume he is correct. After all, we often beam down to new, strange and unwelcoming planets in our day to day Starfleet uniforms…and we just play it by ear, er I mean along with whatever…seems to come out of that somewhat presumptive assumption.’

Spock then chose at this point to snub me for the moment. Reaching over he turned Jim’s cap around placing the bill at the back.

‘Oh yeah! That’s better. Much better, Spock. Thank you.’

Jim examined the pants. They were saggy and baggy.

‘Nice fit…if…I need them.’ I though, was not amused.

Yes, Leonard. For you humour has always been a difficult concept.

‘Spock. You must be joking. These...these clothes things are ridiculous.’

‘Doctor, I am merely the conveyance for the recommendations of the ship’s computer. As I have already…’ I cut him off. Jerk!

‘Well, Spock! What are you proposing to wear?’ Orion women’s underwear, I hoped. To humiliate him publically, of course. I mean, what were you thinking?

Well Leonard. The universe has always suspected that you did not like Vulcans in general and particularly Spock and this basically confirm that suspicion.

‘Well Doctor. As Jim said, we will wear our uniforms. However, I have selected some things from a few decades post your specific apparel for myself. Aaah, just to be safe? You know?’ What?

Yes. You say “what” a lot too.

Spock pulled out what he explained was something called “Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper’s Theory of Robot Evolution Tee shirt”, a pair of khaki cargo pants and a dark blue whoopee-style tuque which he pulled on, whilst turning about in fashion model mode. Impressive. Most impressive. Everyone was familiar with that mode of dress. It was one f the few things that had lasted through the centuries. Cool, Spockly! He got me on his side right then and there.

Well Leonard, Spock misjudged your response ‘cause in his version of this silliness he said he did it just to piss you off! H’ah!

‘Nice Spock! You’ll fit in as well as anyone could. And it would help around here if you would wear that tuque all the time. Now if you could just do something about those eyebrows, Spock…’

‘I beg your pardon, Doctor. That was offensive.’

So Leonard, why didn’t you tell the reader about Spock sticking out his tongue in Vulcan insult style in response to your insults?

‘Yeah. I know. I know. Deal with it, Spock. You semi-functioning…’ I could only go so far with Spock, though.

A presumptive Jim interrupted me, hopefully on purpose, holding up a pair bright orange Hi-tops.

‘About these shoes, Spock. Are they not more suited to…to the sporting field?’

‘Perhaps Captain, but I believe it is more a question of style than suitability for walking, etcetera. They are, after all, what the ship’s computer suggests. And she should know.’ Yeah. We all had asked her a lot of questions about personal stuff. I mean about birthdays and stuff like that, of course.

H’ah!

Yes dear. H’ah says it all.

Jim conceded.

‘Yes. True. Oh well. Let’s get down there. We’ll go like this. What could possibly go wrong? But Spock…bring that basket just in case we need to…to change. Have you selected a…a location?’

‘Yes, Captain. An in-depth survey has found an area in the largest of the underground habitations that appears to be away from occupied areas and is currently devoid of humans.’

‘Great! Great. That’ll do Spock. That’ll do. To the machine!’

We took our places on the Transporter. Someone twisted some knobs and pulled stick-like things.

The usual noises emanated, the room blurred and faded.

The Sub-surface of Mars

As intended by Spock we materialised in a dark area away from the main assembly hall. Lights could be seen off to the left. Jim and Spock looked around in a half-crouch with phasers drawn. I looked up at a cloudy sky that seemed fake. Of course it was. Had to be. Had to.

But we had materialised in a shallow pond of water and were standing knee deep.

Jim’s pissed off expression conveyed that it was well-deserved.

‘Damn you Spock! You could have selected a more convenient place!’

‘Yes! God Jim! I hope this isn’t the sewage lagoon.’

‘Yeah Spock. And that’s Captain, Bones.’ What? Now? Here?

H’ah! Better late than never, Leonard.

‘Relax gentlemen. Relax,’ Spock uttered in Vulcan calm-yourself-human! mode.

‘It could hardly be more practical. From the sandy beach, the discarded drink containers, the cabana and lawn chairs, I deduce this to be a recreational area. It is probably quite safe. We should not be observed here and at least we did not materialise inside a rock.’

‘Cabana?’

‘Yes, Jim. Beaches have them.’ A cabana? Vulcans know about cabanas?

‘They do?’ What?

‘Raisa?’ Ah. It fell into place.

Yeah. Your head fell off with a thump!

‘Not ringing any bells here.’

‘The planet Raisa? The pleasure planet?’’

‘Oh yeah. What a ridiculous name for a planet. Isn’t it officially Omicron Delta Marriott Upsilon Auriga Pentathlon V?’

Hmm. Maybe. I’ll have to look that up. Computer. Look that up.

Yes dear, I will. And I’ll get back to you when I have an answer.

OK.

‘Jimmy-boy, we really must change your meds.’ Seriously. I need to look into that. If we survive this mission.

No, in all seriousness I find that I must agree with you Leonard. For the first time?

‘Say what, Bones?’ Later Jim. Later.

Assured of our safety at last we waded ashore led by a Jim who said nothing until we reached the cabana.

He looked down at his soggy shoes covered with sand.

‘Well Spock……we may be safe but I’ve just ruined my shoes! And I paid for them…myself!’

‘They are not regulation issue? Fascinating! However Captain, the replicator can make more. Should I have them sent down?’

‘Yes, please do. They’re really squishy.’

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘And Spock. Don’t…forget…clean socks, too.’ That Jim! Always the professional.

***

Jim sat down on an outside chair and ran his hand over the armrest. Demurely? Suggestively?

‘Interesting. Feels like the same plastic we use. Spock. Mr science officer?’

Something about this just doesn’t feel right!

Spock did the same. Logically.

‘I believe we call it plastek in our universe, Captain.’

Jim smirked and took his regulation shoes off, draining the water from them.

Spock spoke into his communicator and in a few minutes three shoe boxes materialised before us. We exchanged our wet ones for dry.

Jim threw his soggy pair into the pond. So did I.

Spock scowled at us and placed his in one of the boxes, sliding it under a chair near the clothes basket. Saving the world. Yay Spock! A clear violation of the Prime Directive, eh Spock? Next thing you know they’ll be strutting about in Nikes!

Yes. And looking cool too. Not like you, you…

Then he arose and phaser at the ready, opened the door of the cabana, peered in and looked around.

‘The cabana is currently vacant. I suggest we take up position in here to assess the situation.’

The three of us entered and took a seat on the benches. There were typical beach posters on the wall, a natty rug and beach towels on hooks. Also there was a computer terminal and a large screen.

Spock pecked away at it tentatively while Jim and I looked around.

He soon was inputting like a mad fool.

‘Well Spock? What have you managed to learn?’

‘Typing, it is called. A lost art, at least on Vulcan. That Alt-Shift-Ctrl maneuver is, however, completely illogical. Ahem. Captain. This is a science colony established by a multi-national effort in the year 2040. It is now October 31 2045. Or maybe it’s October 62. Regardless, there have been many prior missions, but none were successful in establishing a permanent colony. Research is being conducted in fusion, genetics and semantics.’

‘Ha’h. Fusion! Good luck with that!’

‘Actually Captain, affordable practical generation of power by fusion is estimated to be a mere ten years off in our own universe. Perhaps this universe knows something ours does not.’

‘Sure. Sure they do. What else have you got?’

‘Their mission is one-way. No return to Earth is possible.’

‘That seems wise. After a week on the surface of this place everyone would get in a ship and head back. What a dump! No hotels. No bars. No Orion wo…’ Steady Jim. The mission. The mission.

‘Yes, Captain. But perhaps scientists view this planet differently than you do. Especially geologists?’

‘Sure they do. But Spock, never mind that tekky stuff. What else have you learned?’

Spock turned to face Jim.

‘I have found the equivalent of the local newspaper. There is everything one could want to know about this place in something called the Social Section. There is a reception tonight in the so-called, Grand Hall. A party, I believe it is called? It is going on as we speak.’

‘And?’

Spock turned back to the screen, annoyed at Jim but compliant.

‘It is a…costume party. There is a theme – Science Fiction…TV…shows of the 20th Century. I am not familiar with the term TV and of course I cannot extrapolate on the possible content of this form of media without being given additional time and unrestricted access to their data storage systems, and, as I have already informed you…Captain, there seems to some form of protection that I cannot penetrate. Therefore…Captain, while the risks are high, this is a golden opportunity to meet people with a much reduced chance of being revealed as aliens. We could retain our uniforms. No, we should retain our uniforms. I am certain we will…as you often say, Captain…fit in?’ I could not let that slur go by unchallenged. I mean, what are friends for?

A lot of things. But I’m not surprised that you didn’t know this.

‘Speak for yourself you misshapen Vulcan alien piece of…’

Jim interrupted an annoyed me.

‘Oh my God. A costume party? Spock, I love them. Get busy and order us up something to wear. But I want to be a Klingon. You Bones? A Gorn? Spock? Aristotle? Quick now. Be quick about it.’

‘I wanted to be the Archangel Gabriel but no, I have to be a goddam…’ A Gorn? As if.

The cabana door suddenly opened.

Outside was an orange faced, yellow haired man, dressed in a cowboy shirt, chaps, with a ten gallon hat and two ancient six-shooters, Colts!! Strapped to his waist.

Before Jim or Spock could draw their phasers and kill him he spoke.

He was obviously inebriated.

He pointed at Jim and then Spock.

‘Let’s go, Jean-Luc. And you. What are you supposed to be – one of them Rumillassians? I expect I’ll hear an earful from you, too! H’ah. Good one.’

He pointed at me and stared for a long moment.

‘And you! You’re a born cowboy, aren’t you? I can’t believe you chose that silly outfit over something cool like mine.’ Was that a Texas accent or…just a drunken New Yorker?

There’s a difference?

Without waiting for a reply he turned away and headed towards the lit area.

We clambered out onto the beach. In the dim light we saw others gathering in the Grand Hall.

Jim summed it up nicely.

‘Well that was offensive. Let’s go gentlemen. We don’t want to keep the ladies in waiting.’ What could possibly go wrong? Well…actually?

Outside the Cabana

Spock had a plan. Of course he did. I’m sure Spock even planned his daily bowel movements. Ha’h! Good one! Well actually…we…should allot time for…later!

‘Captain, I suggest we go separately to avoid the appearance of collaboration.’

‘What? OK. Keep your phaser and communicator out of sight, too, I guess. We should meet back here in one hour. That should be sufficient time to learn all there is to know about these people.’ At least all the females, eh Jimmy-boy?

Thirty seconds Leonard. Thirty seconds.

Spock and I answered simultaneously, deadpan.

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘But Spock. You go first.’ As always!

Spock headed across the sandy beach towards the crowd followed closely by me and Jim. As we neared the assembled multitude Spock, who had been closely observing the group while Jim and I, with our heads down were intensely studying the geology of this Mars, suddenly stopped and turned back towards us, with arms spread in frightened-Vulcan mode - palms up and fingers flicking wildly - and urged us back towards the cabana. Clearly not paying attention to us he nearly ran us down. There's nothing worse than a panicky Vulcan! Except maybe a panicky Klingon?

Or a panicky Ship’s Doctor?

‘Captain!’ Spock screamed. To be honest it was, however, a Vulcan scream, which sounds like a panicky kitten.

That’s not funny Leonard. True, but not funny.

‘There are alien creatures here who or should I say whom I believe we have encountered previously in our missions. Some are potentially violent ones. I have seen Klingons, some Andorians, Wookies and many others that I cannot recognise, some of which are in some form of robotic configuration.’ He calmed down a little. M5 was here? No way! Not possible.

Former girlfriend of Jim’s?

‘Although honestly, I must admit the Klingons appear to be a more primitive sub-species of the Klingon race we ourselves know of. There is no simple and easy logical explanation for any of this. At the very least, I believe we may be in danger! We should flee back to the ship and leave this place. But then…’

His voice changed to Spock lecture mode. Enough Spock! At least Klingons are not obsessed with silly things like logic. Guns and killing maybe but, what he hell!

‘Well, logically, you may be in danger, Captain. And perhaps you too, Doctor, but as for myself…I feel that my Vulcan manners…my considerate, respectful and logical approach to all that we have…’ I had already heard enough. Way more than enough.

Yes! Stop Spock! Stop!

‘Oh for Kirok’s sake Spock, it’s a sci-fi costume party! There are bound to be alien-looking people here. In fact there’d better be! Some of them we will recognise because they will look just like us humans dressed up in some cute way, like…like Jim’s Gorn…outfit. Some though will be perversions and ugly representations of human-like creatures, with overly large body parts such as…oh my! Sorry, Spock…if I’ve offended you.’ Not really but...

Sometimes offending people is the only way to shut them up! There was that time Jim and I were... Wait!

With his eyes focused on the crowd Jim pushed past Spock stopping him in mid-analysis.

‘Yes, Spock. Stop Spock. We know. We all know. Let’s move on.’

Really. Jim knew the size of Spock’s…feet? Oh my!

Jim stomped his feet to clean them of that annoying wet sand as he went.

We split up again.

A “Partay” on Mars

The area was an open space with tables and chairs arranged around a stage in front of an enormous window that overlooked what looked like a crater floor. Several robot-like mechanisms with six wheels and shaped like beer kegs with skinny necks and a round can thing on top with many eyes and just a slit for a mouth were on the stage. One was playing loud music over an enormous sound system. Another was clapping his (or her) six or more hands above his (or her) head and believe it or don’t if you want, was singing along in an obviously so far fruitless effort to generate interest. The music was of course, totally unknown to any of us. Despite the merry temperament most of the costumed people were in groups of three or four, with drinks in hand, discussing something sexual or their healthiness or the state of the administration.

No one paid the least bit of attention to any of us and we were soon alone again and standing on the edge of the crowd. The party was well underway, but it was not what I expected, all considered, from a bunch of privileged rich people on Mars. I mean no police. No paparazzi. No picketers. You know of what I speak?

Reminds me of a comic con I hosted on Raisa.

***

We reached the stage on the fringe of the group and were approached by one of those beer keg techy things. Er whatever!

Yes. Life can be so complicated Leonard.

It was similar to those ones on the stage but it was carrying a tray of drinks and what looked like food. It stopped in front of us. The keg tilted up and the eyes looked straight to Spock. Of course. The tuque. The tuque did it.

Spock spoke first. In a loud Vulcan voice, due to the loud and annoying music so nearby. Of course. Maybe?

‘You appear to be some form of artificial intelligence being. An artificial yet obviously intelligent robot, if I may presume?’ Get to the point Spock. It’s about eating and drinking. Not science! And it’s an AI!

Yes. Drinking and eating are important.

But in a totally human male voice it spoke to him. Wow. All of ours sound like some silly robot with a broken speaker. Except for the one that sounds like Christine.

Thank you dear.

Shut up Computer!

Yes dear.

‘How may I be of service? Would you care for a drink, sir?’

Spock bent down to examine its undersides, slid his hands over and under it and answered, ‘What is it?’

‘Please do not physically assault me, sir. Or madam. But it is an excellent Shiraz, sir. Or madam. Apparently grown in the MHM. I have been automated to say it is wonderful.’ Nice recovery.

‘No thank you,’ about did it for Spock, but Jim and I took a glass each from the offered tray, took a cautious sip and then downed the entire contents in one gulp.

And simultaneously we offered a science-based assessment.

‘Excellent!’ and grabbed another.

‘An appetizer perhaps, sir? Or madam?’

Spock tried again.

‘What is it?’ Too loud again.

‘Koi, I am told. A form of fish. I am told to say it is wonderful, too.’

‘No, thank you.’

Jim and I each took a sample and gulped it down.

Jim gushed with delight.

We filled their hands.

‘Koi you say. Excellent!’

‘Yes Bones. Excellent. I wonder where they are keeping their replicator.’

Spock remained mission-centered.

‘May I ask what manner of creature you are, sir?’

The AI stiffened, with head drawn back, about as offended as I’ve been told an AI can be and can show without killing someone, which of course was strictly forbidden. But maybe not in this universe. The seventeen laws of our universe may not be in effect here. Oops. Careful Spock. Alien planets. You know?

‘I am an E type, designation E177. How may I be of service? And you are?’

‘My name is of no importance.’ True Spock.

Oh Leonard! You and Spock agreed on something again.

The becoming rapidly miffed AI retorted.

‘Of course, sir or madam. No importance whatsoever,’ and moved away towards the crowd, obviously miffed at the encounter.

I picked up on it. The tech here still had some way to go. Self driving AIs?

‘A paranoid android, if I ever saw one. I’d be climbing up the walls if I had to interact with them types every day. I much prefer Christine. At least she has a mouth. With teeth. You Spock?’

‘Hmm. No comment, Doctor.’ Hmm. Maybe Spock meant “no comedy” there?

Hmm indeed.

Jim looked across the room and mumbled something. Then he mumbled it again. Loudly.

Jim’s primary means of communications was always to mumble.

‘A female. Green! A lone green female. And she’s an Orion…Lucky!’ We can hear you Jim. You don’t need to shout. We’ve done this before.

Can’t you make up a new story Leonard? One that doesn’t look, sound and feel like Spock’s version? Oh well. I guess not. I can’t wait to read Jim’s.

Abandoning us in characteristic horny-Kirk-like fashion he moved in the direction of the woman who I assumed was costumed as an Orion female and who was also standing alone.

Turning back to us he said in Kirk command mode, ‘Gentlemen. Partay-on. That’s an order.’ And ran towards her, slowly. Mars’ low gravity didn’t permit sprinting.

‘Fascinating. An anomaly, I am sure. And I believe the Captain is due for a letdown. This cannot go well, Boney.’

Jim and women. Of any planet. Yep. Badly. And he called you Boney? H’ah!.

I turned to Spock.

‘No surprises there Spockly, eh? But tell me, how is it that you have the ability to offend any creature sentient or otherwise, or any robot in any universe or any social situation?’

‘I have been instructed by the best of them, Doctor. Thank you for your own not insignificant contribution to my education.’

‘Well, you’re welcome, Spock. And thank you.’ Humour. A difficult concept.

You don’t get sarcasm any better than Spock did Leonard. At least he had a good reason. You?

Alone again naturally, we scanned the crowd.

I chased down another one of those E-type AI thingies and got another glass of wine or two and some more fish.

Or three!

‘Crispy. Deep fried. Appies it calls them. It’s short for appetizer.’

‘How apt.’ Was that humour!

No. But wine can make it appear so.

Spock looked about and took in the whole group of people. Here we go.

‘This group is quite diverse, Doctor. I hear Punjabi, Hindi, Mandarin, Russian, Farsi, French, English, Cockney and even American. I believe that all of the main ethnicities of Earth are represented here, Doctor.’

Spock nodded.

And Hemmer, apparently.

‘And then there’s Chekov.’

‘Yes. Chekov. Challenging.’ Yes. Challenging. A good word, even from a Vulcan.

‘But I am disturbed, Doctor. I have seen persons made up and dressed as aliens but they make no sense. That gentleman over there for instance, he is black on one half and white on the other. He cannot be here in this universe. Nor can that creature over there – of male or female gender I cannot discern without an opportunity to examine him or her physically – who or which, appears to be of the same shapeshifter lifeform as your former love interest, Nancy, I believe she was named? How can she or it or he be here in this universe?’ OMG! Spock, are you just toying with me?

Why not? Vulcans need to do something when they’re not drinking and. pon farring. Wait. Is that porn farring?

I was just beginning to understand what Spock was suggesting but suddenly I saw her, him, it and immediately understood that my very own life was in danger.

‘Yes! For God’s sake Spock, keep me away from her! She’s just a blood-sucking leech! I can’t fall into that crater again!’ I paused and reconsidered. She had been a plum hottie. Was this universe offering me a second chance?

Drake, you are so stupid Leonard! Think a moment before you act. This is a story, written by you. You don’t have to appear to be a simple fool, although perhaps that’s just the easiest way for you to do it.

‘Wait…actually…wait Spock! Perhaps in this universe she would…after all this just a costume party and…we might actually be able to…she was really hot too…’

‘Yes, Doctor. But actually, I feel I must point out that she was just a salt-sucking leech creature merely seeking to continue her existence and we…’

Pay attention to Spock here Leonard.

An obviously serious Spock stopped and stared across the room at something I could not see but that the very slightly taller Spock obviously could and he cut himself off, leaving me alone, still thinking about the Nancy-creature. Now that was unusual. Spock was never easily distracted. By anything or one or sex. I meant any sex, obviously.

True. Very true.

‘Fascinating.’

Setting that Nancy-thing aside for the moment I struggled to see what was holding Spock’s attention. I rose up on my tiptoes.

‘What is it Spock? Better yet, who is it?’ C’mon Spock.

‘I repeat. Fascinating.’ Get real!

‘I heard you the first time you rabbit-eared hobgoblin. What do you see?’

‘Doctor, I see three persons in Starfleet uniforms. From this distance they appear to be a Vulcan and two Earth-type humans. How illogical.’ Why were Vulcan’s so tall?

Because they drank milk, ate bananas and liked to look down on other species, Leonard! H’ah!

‘Damn you Spock. Where are they? Are you joking with me?’ Especially the women?

Same reasons. But I’ve never understood how anyone could stand their ultra-formal interpersonal relationship mannerisms. Are there no bars on Vulcan? There can’t be. Perhaps I should...

No dear. You should not. The Prime Directive?

Go to the hell with the Prime Directive Computer!

Yes dear. I will.

‘How likely is that, Doctor?’

‘Oh yeah. Sorry Spock.’

I again stood on my tiptoes to look where Spock was looking.

‘But where are they?’ Maybe if I climbed up on his back – and held onto his ears!

Again Leonard? Ha’h. As if!

Spock waved casually in the direction of a large group near the stage and moved off as casually as Spock could move anywhere towards them. I followed him and as I passed a serving AI I quickly snatched another glass of that fabulous wine and another handful of those tasty appies. Finally, as the crowd moved about, I saw the people Spock had seen.

‘Oh my God!’

‘Yes Doctor, your God is no doubt somehow involved in this.’

‘Yes.’ Praise Drake!

Well, at least for The Weeknd. H’ah Leonard!

On the fringe of the group with their backs towards us were three persons in Starfleet uniforms similar to our own. However, as we watched and considered this the Cowboy we had met at the Cabana mounted the stage and grabbed the mike from the hand of the DJ AI.

He spoke in a slurred voice.

‘Howdy y'all. Welcome to the 5th annual sci-fi costume and wine tasting dance party. It’s appies now, wine all night. Don’t worry. I’m used to whining. Hah! Hah! Hah!’ Definitely not from Texas, though.

A quiet chuckle ran through the crowd who obviously knew this fellow well. He continued, but Spock and I, from years of attending meetings with aliens of all types, minds and levels of intelligence saw and heard something else.

‘Odd the way he waves his arms about as he speaks.’

‘Yes Doctor! And that shirt!’

‘Huh-ugly!’

‘And Doctor, one must wonder what science fiction art form would employ American western-type characters in any science fiction story line. It is so illogical.’

‘You’re right on that count my Vulcan friend. Ha’h! Cowboys and Aliens. As if!’

Eventually Spock and I were able to ignore him completely and turned our attention back to the Starfleet persons who too were ignoring the Cowboy and had returned to their own conversations.

Due to the wine it took a while, but finally I got it.

‘Oh my God, Spock! It’s us. They’re us! That’s you!’

‘D'oh, Doctor. It took you long enough! He is a close facsimile Doctor, but not quite spot on. The hair is a bit too short and is greying at the temples. The ears are a fine effort but lack the lift and elegance of my own. Nonetheless it is a fair attempt. You, I must report, are a bit more portly than your doppelganger. The Captain’s, however, is a bang-on match.’

‘Well Spockly, Jimmy-boy doesn’t have a pot belly. And the hair is all wrong. And as for his arms, well Jim’s arms are much more muscular. And the Jiminator’s buttocks are much more firm. That’s a sad attempt at parody, I’d say.’

‘To each his own opinion, Doctor. However, the greater mystery is, if we are from another universe and this is approximately the year 2045, how can we be here? Who are these people? I am slightly confused and very slightly disturbed by this. This cannot be.’ It seemed pretty simple to me and the wine had no say in any of this, I assure you.

Or as Spock would say, “Logically Doctor I must advise you that I am not sure the wine left you capable of assessing this.”

True dear. Very true.

‘Well we’re not here Spock. I mean they’re not us. I mean this is a costume party for God’s sake! There’s a perfectly logical explanation for all this, I’m sure.’ Maybe more wine would help?

See?

‘I am aware of the nature of this event, Doctor. But if they are not us, then they are in costume as us. How can that be? I find I must speak with them. H’eh. That shape-shifter skill set would be handy about now, eh Boney? You could be anyone or thing.’

‘What? Spock! No! The Prime Directive!’

‘To hell with the Prime Directive, Doctor.’

He started directly for them. WTF?

From a sense of duty I grabbed his arm to restrain him. He turned back on me and used the Big Squeeze on me.

The room blurred.

For a brief time Spock looked more human than usual and I guess, eventually, I collapsed onto the floor.

Finally I passed out like I was supposed to. At least he didn't break my neck. But evidently I missed a lot of cool things. Thanks Spock!

Yeah. Thanks Spock.

The Herbert

Sometime later I found that I had been carried away by a group of by-standers and was sitting by the stage, slumped over, sort of awake but quite groggy for multiple reasons, mostly to do with that cursed Vulcan neck pinch thing. Maybe more wine would have helped?

You are so confused you don’t even know you already did this wine thing!

The Cowboy, also very drunk, was with me. As Spock and Jim approached me I got up, fists at the ready to deal with Spock. Well, predictably, I started to fall over and was caught by the Cowboy and that cursed Spock. Then things started to segue back together, at least for me.

The Cowboy poked Jim in the chest and launched into a drunken speech.

‘I just wanna say… I just wanna say, that you guys are fantastic……with the research in what you do. What is it you do? Great stuff. We are going to have huge results……so keep it up. Remember why we’re here – to get rich people stuff……I mean to enrich our lives. Ha, ha, ha……huge lives. I gotta pee……ha’h.’ For some reason I could not then fathom, but for multiple reasons I now understand, Jim remained silent and respectful.

Yes. Brothers in harms!

I believe the expression you intended to use dear is brothers in arms.

Nope. I got it right. OK computer?

Yes dear.

Then, with fist pumps aplenty, he moved away, slapping people on the back, groping women and men alike, moving through the crowd. Most avoided him. But not all.

We watched him leave.

‘Definitely of used antique car salesman quality. No. Upon reconsideration, a Herbert. That is, if there ever was one, he is it. Definitely a Herbert.’

‘Really? I dunno, guys. I sensed a distinctive something….something…in that man. A leadership quality. He’s a great leader, I’m sure.’ See what I mean? From one Great White Captain to another.

Yes Leonard. See?

‘Really Captain? When he sobers up, possibly. Or grows up?’

I barfed on the floor and as I watched, a much smaller AI cleaned it up. We could use one of those on the Enterprise. Or maybe a few dozen? Hmm.

What? And fire the women cleaners?

A Captain’s Encounter at Some Point

As I sat watching the AI clean up my mess Jim turned about abruptly and was confronted by a woman dressed in a uniform basically like his – the Starfleet uniform of a ship’s Captain, but different in subtle ways. He stopped and grabbed both her shoulders in the customary Jim manner, meaning he then stared at her, tilted his head slightly and smiled at her.

She did likewise to him - tilted her head slightly and smiled back at him. Obviously she was a Starfleet Captain.

Is this comedy, Leonard? Cause I never got many chances to laugh. At least not around Jim, anyway.

Protocols completed, she spoke.

‘Nice outfit. I thought you said you wouldn’t be here. That you were leaving on another one of your sight-seeing trips.’

‘Umm……ah…well. Who…are…you? I see from your rank insignia you are…a Starfleet…Captain, too?’

She pushed him away abruptly.

‘Really Sam! Is your memory so bad that you can’t even remember that we did it in the arboretum last night during the pre-party party. Twice!’ Sam? Who the hell was Sam? An alias?

Is she confusing him with his brother Sam?

She paused. And twice? Well done Jimmly! Your meds are finally working.

What? Twice? Can’t be Jim, then. Must be Sam. Yep. Sam.

‘You disgust me, Sam Aiken! You should leave this place and never come back.’ Oh. A local.

Oh. Very confusing. You need to work on your writing skills Leonard. And your alcoholism. And your ego issues. And…

She lifted her face haughtily and strutted away, leaving Jim with mouth agape, staring at her departing figure. Weren’t we all?

He called after her.

‘That…could…not……have been...me!’

She turned back briefly and gave him the universal sign of goodbye.

Gorn for good from Jim’s life!

Spelling dear. Spelling!

It’s spelt right.

I was speechless for a number of reasons, including the neck pinch and alcohol, but an amazed Spock spoke.

‘WTF Jim? That was fascinating. Really fascinating! Did you beam down here last night and shall I say it graciously - connect - with her? I mean, talk about breaking the Prime Directive!’ Vulcans say WTF?

Leonard. For your information that is Jim’s prime directive!

Jim shook his head as if to clear it. Maybe more wine would help?

‘That’s Captain, Spock if you don’t mind, thank you. But, no, I did not. At least I don’t remember doing it. Err…that. But apparently, Spock, there are many of me in this universe. So just forget the whole dang thing, will ya.’

‘Yes, Captain. By your command.’

Jim looked around the room taking in all of the people. In one sweep with arms out, palms up and shaking in the Jim-like gesture of amazement, he continued.

‘You know Spock? Bones?…I’m not sure……that I understand…any of the women…in……this…universe. Except for the Orion ones of course. Wait…maybe…no. I’m wrong. Not any in any universe, in fact. I just…don’t…get them. Who knew relationships could be so complicated?’ Sure. Don’t pity him Spock. The King is indulging in our national pastime; the game of public confession. Again.

You, his long-time friend didn’t know this simple fact about Jim? Really Leonard?

Still, Spock answered truthfully.

‘No one, Jim. No one.’ True.

And of course, Vulcan’s cannot lie, even to protect themselves!

‘In fact, I just realised that I’m afraid and I hate everyone in the universe, at least until I speak to them. That’s why I carry a phaser. Well, that’s one reason I carry a phaser.’ So true. And why you dive onto the ground, roll around and lose your shirt?

No Leonard. We’re back to Jim’s prime directive there.

‘Yes Captain. I understand that. Perfectly logical.’ Really, Spock?

‘Oh Spock! I need professional help! Bones! Help me.’ Alcohol and sex. Who knew? Well, actually Jim…I do.

But you never did anything about it!

But Spock got there first.

‘Yes, Captain. I had come to that very conclusion, a very, very long time ago. And if I may add, it was completely without the use of logic.’ Sure Spock. As if that would do it!

I mumbled something out loud that amounted to a yes.

Together they picked me up and carried me to the edge of the dark area. Gee. Thanks for going the extra mile guys.

Maybe if you’d watched your weight!

Broken Bones

A few minutes, possibly, later.

‘How are you, Bones?’

‘I’ve definitely got the subterranean homesick alien blues, Jim. Talk about a hangover. And by the way Spock, I owe you one and I don’t mean a Romulan ale. Don’t turn your back on me. Ever. So expect a hard one, when you least expect it. It’s what the Karma Police do. You never see it coming.’

Spock had.

I’d bet his eyes rolled around the room rapidly at all this classic stuff! Hee hee!

Jim had.

‘Nice trope Boney!’

‘And your threat to me is well understood Doctor. I find cannot blame you for what I did. Nor can I blame you for what you are planning on doing. It is…completely…logical. Or at least, well-deserved. They are not mutually exclusive, by the way.’

‘Jim, you wouldn’t believe what Spock did to me. Just when…’

Jim waved his hand at me dismissively. It made my head swim.

OMG! It did that to you too!

‘I don’t want to know what goes on between you…two. It’s entirely none of my business.’

That cleared my head of a few things.

‘Well then…so are you staying, Jim. I mean, you said you…’

Jim interrupted me.

‘You know that Orion woman…I was……speaking to, Spock? She was quite taken with…me. I felt a…a connection.’

‘I think you wanted a connection, Jimmy boy!’ See? I was almost back to normal. But what had happened to them while I was out cold? Probably just the usual Jim-thing.

Yes. True. The usual Jim thing.

‘Yes…no…maybe, but …… no …… I’m definitely not staying. I wouldn’t fit in. She was quite forth-coming with details about this place. She told me the average age here is…seventy-four. She said almost everyone here has had numerous implants and surgeries to look…and feel…younger. Evidently they are working on a genetic reset switch. Officially it’s very hush-hush but it’s actually…common knowledge. It would enable them to…regress to a younger age and freeze…aging at…whatever time they…wanted. I…could use…that.’

I think you already did it. Several times!

Spock pontificated. Of course he did.

‘Hmm, Captain? That is illogical to say the least. One is what one is. One becomes what one must become; even aged.’

Well, that’s the last thing I’m going to do Spock. Age! As if!

I, now completely back to normal, pitched in. This was, afterall, my field of expertise. Not his.

Jim cut me off. Good thing too ‘cause I couldn’t actually remember where. Or when. Or if.

Well, that’s the last thing I’m going to do Spock. Age! As if!

‘Yes, Captain. I know the kind. What could possibly go wrong, besides everything? If I were here I would flee to the furthest corners of the planet to avoid these egotistical people and their economic-return-based scientific inquiries.’ And no one would notice, Spock.

You know Leonard, if Vulcans could read minds you wouldn’t need to worry about aging. A long time ago.

Jim grimaced painfully in Jim-like fashion into the camera, avoiding looking at Spock.

‘OK, Doomer. I hear you.’

Spock, insulted, could not let that pass. He can’t know about that…

‘Captain, I believe the expression of disrespect you intended to use is OK Boomer. Which, due to its antiquity and Earth origin does not actually apply in my case, but it is still offensive. On Vulcan, in my youth, there was no such thing as privilege, though many grew up during a period of increasing affluence due in part to widespread post-war government subsidies in housing and education. As a group, we were wealthier, more active and more physically fit than any preceding generation and we were the first to grow up genuinely expecting our world to improve with time. However, a more appropriate term of disdain when referring to Vulcans is OK Logician or perhaps, OK Pinchy. I am sure you are familiar…’ Stop. Stop, Spock.

Yes! Please stop Spock!

Jim smiled slyly and cut Spock off with a wave of the hand. Thanks Jim. My head hurts and you know why.

Yes. One of half a dozen reasons. Or maybe, half a gram?

‘Spock? You should try actually listening to yourself once in a while. It might help. But despite all your flaws…you are…one in…a million.’

I jumped in.

‘Well said Jim-boy!’ Spock, ignoring me, of course, went after Jim.

‘Really Captain? There are that many out there like me? H’eh. I guess the universe may be safe after all.’

‘Why Spock! Is that an ego I see sneaking up on you?’

Spock turned around abruptly, his phaser drawn.

‘Where?’

‘H’ah Good one Jimmy-boy.’ Yeah. A good one.

Yeah. A good one all right.

Back at the Cabana

Jim’s personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – We have met the inhabitants of this planet. They are a violent society, obsessed with themselves and their work. I see no percentage in staying here. I just…don’t……fit…in!”

***

We arrived at the cabana, looked about and went in.

Spock took the seat at the terminal and began typing something.

An aching me slumped down in a chair. I was beginning to understand why no one got up and attacked Spock after that pinchy thing. It hurt like hell for a long time. Or maybe it was the appies?

Jim studied the posters, fingered the towels, looked at himself in the mirror, pushed a strand of hair back into place and re-assumed command.

‘Well guys? So what did we learn? It’s a mystery and I don’t like mysteries. At least not yet. And I wanna know what we learned while we are still here on Mars, cause when we return to the ship it’s always about comedy. Always. Even if a half-dozen Redshirts or our personal friends or even my family members have died. So let’s get this re-hash-the-mission shit over with, now. Bones?’ Well, actually what Jim just said about comedy wasn’t entirely true. There was that time we just took off after Sam had died.

What? He didn’t make a joke about that? H’ah!

‘True Jim. Very true. And sad……Well Jim, moving on, I’m pretty sure this is not our universe.’

‘Yep. Agreed. Spock? Well what happened to you guys, anyway? You both disappeared.’

‘While you were off attempting to charm the pants off that woman Jim, the Doctor and I found to our complete surprise, that in addition to the presence of several other species from our universe, we ourselves have counterparts in this universe and in this very time and place. Including your woman friend, who is of, or was I should say, no, is, inexplicably, an ‘Orion’ personage. Go figure.’

I couldn’t let Spock ramble on. I had obviously missed something.

‘Jim. So you hit on two women while we were down there? And one of them was an Orion? Tell me every detail right now. I’m your doctor and I need to know these things.’

Du’oh Leonard! Why else did Jim go anywhere except to as you put it, to “hit” on women.

Spock answered for Jim.

‘Sorry Doctor, but there are more important things to worry about and to deal with than Jim’s preoccupation with inter-species sexual relationships. Perhaps at some time in the future you could get him to stop thinking with his glands?’

‘Spock, go to hell. I am Jim’s doctor and I need to know every detail of these things. Don’t you get it?’ I’ve tried Spock and nothing works! Wait. Is the brain a gland? The pineal portion is a gland but the rest…thanks, Spock.

Well, to coin a phrase, “fascinating” did it.

‘Yes. Several times in fact Doctor I have, as you so succinctly put it, “gotten it”, but I always know when to move on. I will, as you humans say, fill you in, on the details, later. Jim? Moving on?’

Well, Spock, humans say that way too much and they don’t always mean what you think they said. Ha!

Jim took the lead and shut me down.

Oh, poor Leonard. That’s never happened before?

‘Get on with it Spock. What’s that about there being only three of me here?’

Only three? God Jim!

‘Correction, Jim. Three of the locals were in fact dressed in Starfleet uniforms and costumed to resemble specifically we three. Only one was you. They even employed our names, sort of. Er, Tiblerius?’

“What?’ Relax Jim.

How disappointing.

‘And while they were not us and their Starfleet uniforms were not genuine, the fact that we exist in any form in this universe means we have had or have, some form of reality here. Or perhaps they have invented time travel and have ventured forward into our time and universe and examined our society. I cannot imagine how else this could have occurred.’ Yeah Spock. We all know Vulcans lack imagination. Too illogical!

‘Yeah. An entertaining thought, Spock. But only one of me, eh? That’s…strange. Well, you know… I still haven’t figured out who that other Starfleet woman was. She definitely thought she knew me. It was pretty weird. Makes perfect sense to me, though. What you just said?’

Spock finished his typing.

‘What?’ Alcohol. The great equalizer.

And other things, Leonard!

‘What you just said about time travel and stuff like that. But was there actually a Yeoman Janice around? I might reconsider staying if...’

OMG! Jim loves me! Erm. He loved me.

‘I thought I saw her too Jim, but I can’t be sure. The hair? But Janice at seventy-four, Jim?’

‘Hmmm. Yes, Bones. No….no.’

‘James T Kirk at 84, Captain? On Vulcan it is said that beauty has no age limit. Besides, if the age regression technique they are planning on using works as planned…it is possible that…’ Suddenly and thankfully, the cabana door opened.

Wait Leonard! There was more to this than just that!

The Cowboy shouted.

‘C’mon you guys. Let’s get back to the party! We’ve still got the costume judging and the chug-a-lug contest and the diving board competition. C’mon. Let’s go. That’s an order.’

An annoyed Jim stood.

‘I am in command here. These are my men. Off with you, silly person!’

‘H’ah! I’m the boss in these parts pardner and I say you’re going back. Now get a move on.’

‘Bones?’

‘Sure Jim.’ I knew where this was going. We'd been there before.

A seemingly compliant me and Jim led the Cowboy to the water’s edge. Spock initially balked but followed. We wrestled the Cowboy to the ground and taking an arm and a leg, tossed him into the pond. He came up coughing and spewing water.

‘God! It’s like a sewer. Very funny guys.’ See Spock. I was right!

He shook his fist at a laughing Jim.

‘Aiken!! I know that’s you under all that makeup. You’re behind this. You get the hell out of here and don’t bother to come back! And as for you guys, whoever the hell you are. You’d better pray I don’t find out cause I’ll…!’

Hand raised in Captain Kirk-like stop-speaking-in–front-of-me mode, Jim interrupted the Cowboy. Surprisingly, it worked.

‘Well gentlemen, let’s do as the man says and get the hell out of here. Spock?’

Ignoring the presence of the now silent and transfixed Cowboy, we transported up to the Enterprise. So much for the Prime Directive!

Totally understandable. Totally.

Back on the bridge of the Enterprise

The usual gang were sitting about, noises, etc… Bleh, bleh, bleh, bleh.

Jim’s personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – We are preparing to warp out of here to get back to our own universe. A kinder…gentler universe I am sure, in which a man and a woman can……talk…without being set upon by angry, jealous…thugs. How we are going to do this though, I haven’t the foggiest notion. Scotty and Spock will figure it out. They always do. They’ve done it before…something about matter and anti-matter or……doesn’t matter. It’s just some magic formula they have devised. I forget in which episode. Er, mission.” Sure, Jim. And nothing about the learned Doctor McCoy’s valuable contribution to all this.

Totally understandable. Totally, Leonard.

***

Spock and I flanked Jim who was sitting in the Command chair. Yeoman Janice was in her customary position, just out of reach. Sort of. Leaning in a bit. Maybe?

Totally understandable. Totally, Leonard.

‘Well gentlemen, any more thoughts on what just occurred? Spock? You first.’

‘Jim! How come he always gets to go…’

Spock went first.

‘Extremely illogical Captain that we three would be in this time, in this universe. I must confess that I am genuinely bamboozled by the whole thing.’

‘Bones? Your turn?’ Vulcans can be bamboozled? Well. Here goes. Let's see who wins this one, Spocky!

‘Well I think Jimmy-boy that we three are just too great in spirit and our personalities are just too big to be limited to one universe. In fact, we probably exist in every universe there is.’

‘Spock? Any comment on Bones’ comment?’ Of course he will.

‘That is completely illogical Doctor, particularly since you did not consider the presence of the Orion woman nor the Klingons or Andorians or the Wookiees, who by the way, do actually exist in our universe. But I am at a loss to explain it myself. Hodgkin’s Law cannot explain this one. Nor can Occam’s Razor do so.’ Wookiees do exist? C'mon Spock, get real.

C’mon Leonard. Get original, will ya.

‘Or KISS.’

Spock sighed. Yeah Spock. Jim was obsessed with two things. One – Shakespeare and two – Hair Bands. And maybe, no definitely, there was a third. And a fourth. And a...

Totally understandable. Totally, Leonard.

‘Aye, Captain. Although I have found no evidence that your favorite band even exists in this universe, never mind that it has in some way contributed to the philosophical development of this particular civilization.’ True, Spock. Now AC-DC? That was a completely different matter. There was this planet...

‘That’s sad, Spock. Very sad. And this particular discussion is supposed to be about comedy. Well Bones, I for one don’t find your explanation too hard to believe. Our stories are certainly engaging, exciting and principled. Although some are…better than…others.’ Jimmy-boy, I don't think you're actually speaking to me.

Kirky glanced back at Yeoman Janice and smiled. Yep.

She returned his smile, winked broadly and headed off the bridge. He turned away. I knew where, when and how this was going. It always did.

Totally understandable. Totally, Leonard.

‘Well gang, I’m off to get some much needed er…rest. Warp speed helmsman, whatever your name is.’

‘It’s Lieutenant Sulu, sir. But Captain, shouldn’t we wait for Mr Scott to advise us about the engines and stuff like that. Sir?’

‘Meh. Carryout my orders, Mr Sulu! Warp speed. Now.’

‘Oy vey! Aye Captain.’ I could see I needed some time alone with Jim. And not for therapy. Romulan ale?

‘Captain. I think you need a complete physical examination. Perhaps your encounter with that Orion woman has left some traces of viruses, bacteria and other stuff like that.’

‘Later Boney. Much later. Tomorrow in fact. And by the way, Spock. I haven’t forgotten your promise to teach me that Vulcan neck pinch.’

Spock stared into one of his high tech scanners, smiled and muttered to himself.

‘Not yet you haven’t.’ Oh, oh. Heard that one before.

‘What’s that Spock?’ But Jim obviously hadn't.

Jim didn’t know how to do that? They taught it to all of us at the Academy. Wait! Maybe just the women?

‘Nothing, Captain.’

***

As usual the ship whined, rumbled and was tossed sideways, back and forth, throwing the crew about, injuring some and just amusing others. How come no one ever sees this coming? You'd think from the injuries to the crew and the damage to the ship it causes someone would at least call out a warning but no...

Something serious must have happened because suddenly Kirky shifted back to work mode. A long walk from where I thought he was!

Leonard you really didn’t know Jim, did you?

‘Spock? Have you seen my……communicator? My phaser? Hopefully I didn’t drop them on that godforsaken planet.’ Kirky. The Prime Directive! Oh my God!

Spock put his head down on his console and whispered mournfully.

‘Mommee! Mommee.’

Leonard, perhaps the phrase Mommee Mommee means something other than what you though in Vulcan? Like OMG! OMG!

Kirky ignored him and left.

I patted Spock on the back, resisting the attempt to try that Vulcan Pinchy-thing on him just to give him a break. Who knew? Well, actually, I guess if anyone should it would be me. And where is that clothes basket, Spock?

***

And I had learned something that I could not yet share with Jim or even Spock from a brief conversation with the AI who cleaned up my barf.

I had asked about Jim’s favorite possibly non-existent in this universe person – Grand Moff Elon Musk. Did the AI know anything about him? Was he here? Surely an AI on Mars would know everything.

It took an awkward moment but the AI looked about, looked down, scrubbed the floor a bit, and looked up into my eyes, all it seemed to me to avoid ever being held accountable for this.

‘A bunch of the RNF are coming, but not until this place looks like a Trump Tower.’ RNF? Ah. The Rich and Famous.

I could not resist.

‘That may take a while.’

The AI looked about, scrubbed nothing and looked up at me.

‘But he is dead. He was here over twenty years ago. He was killed when an internet communications tower fell on him. Or when an Earth vehicle fell out of orbit and onto his habitation. The details are a bit vague. Fake news? You know?’ Jim wouldn’t like that either way. It didn’t fit with his universe. I’d better keep that under the carpet.

Or up yer ass Leonard you stupid twit!

***

The Enterprise lurched left and right, up and down and finally, with the squeal of rubber tires on pavement, disappeared into the great wide open and hopefully back to our universe. Petty problems solved.

Story #2

Star Trek Crosses Path with Christmas

(as celebrated on Earths #1 through 7,009)

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Personnel were in their usual positions on the bridge. Loud tings, brrinngs, bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the bridge electronic systems were heard continuously in the background, all for no apparent purpose or reason I have ever been able to understand. Or even care about.

The view screen, with a mere 640 by 480 pixel resolution was half-filled by a blue – green planet. A thick atmospheric band is visible.

Here we go again. Boring or what? Tedious? Dreary? Dull? Tiresome?

All of the above dear.

Thank you Computer.

Pardon dear. What. I wasn’t listening.

Humour. A difficult concept. Or so they say.

Yes dear. It is. And they do..

Captain James T Kirk was standing and then sitting on the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-his-mind but non-existent camera. As usual. A good sign.

That mission accomplished, Kirky just sat down, pulled out his ipadaclona and in a fairly soft and quiet voice that everyone could hear started to record the current situation, doing so probably just in case someone, somewhere, sometime, bothered to ask or perhaps check. He went on and on and on. As usual.

Sorry Leonard. What did you just write? I must have nodded off. Here we go again. Every story starts the same way with Kirky droning on and on and on. What the hell did you think this was? A teleshow series? Nutflux?

‘Star Date…unknown. The same effect that tossed us back to Earth into the mid-1960’s in Episode 19 of Year 1 has happened again. Or was it Episode 20? I forget. Anyway, I’d fire that god-damned Spock for incompetence if I wasn’t so much into his ears. They’re so cute. Like a kitty-cat. That and he saw me and Uhura making out and he holds that over me like…a…light sabre. It’s worse than that, though. This is definitely our ship but maybe definitely our universe. And this just happened to us what, was it eight or nine months ago? It’s something parallel……a parallel universe it appears, one coexisting with ours…on another dimension, with everything duplicated. Or not. How the hell would I know at this point, anyway? It happened like five ’effing minutes ago. But we appear to have been thrown back in time again into an orbit around the Earth. Spock said it was due to passing through a star-forming sector of hyperspace at a really high velocity. Or as he put it, something like “speeding in a construction zone”. Whatever the hell that was, er is, er could be. Kirk done.’

A frightened Uhura looked to Kirky. And not in the usual way that she sometimes did.

Well actually it was becoming “The Usual Way”. But not rapidly. Boring!

‘Captain, I’m frightened…because of what you just said.’

Jim, in what Spock says Vulcans call drama-queen-command mode – replied sullenly, yet dramatically. Aaah. Starfleet Academy! Bless you.

Yes. Drake bless you Starfleet Academy!

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there……at least not the Earth we know. We are totally alone.’ Yep. Nailed it, Spockly. A 9.5 if there ever was one.

He turned away from her, looked up slowly and dramatically to the ceiling of the bridge, rolled his eyes, pursed his lips and blew out slowly and silently. Lot going on there, I’m sure.

Yep. Her we go again, Leonard! Nowhere. But quickly. Again. And again And….

In his favorite clinical/lecture mode voice, Spockly intervened. How could he not?

‘Spock!’ Go for it Jimmly!

‘Yes, Jim?’

‘For Kirok’s sake. Shaddup!’

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry.’ Ah, the burden of subservience.

Ah. The religious references have begun. “Bless you”. “Kirok”

Kirky paused just long enough to allow me and you and him to disassociate one thing from another, then moved on.

‘So, Mister Spock. That looks like Earth, but is it really…Earth?’

‘Meaning?’

Meaning, here we go again Jim!

Spock replied as clearly as he could, given the circumstances and by that I mean that he was, afterall, talking to Kirky, a human with a highly questionable level of knowledge of the history of his own home planet and of many others. And other issues.

Yeah, some of which you as his doctor you should have addressed. Like his ED?

‘Meaning, Jim that it appears we have again been thrown back in time to Earth. It could be potentially, completely different from our own, from the one we are familiar with. Potentially. Or exactly the same.’

‘Again? We’re back again? What the hell do they think they are doing? Well?…At least it’s not 1920, er 1930 er 1968, whatever! Evaluation…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’ They? Jim. Who are they? Voices in your head?

Yeah, voices in both heads lol!

Spock reverted to his professional-science-officer mode but this time and intentionally I’m sure to the more annoying one.

Well Leonard, if anyone knew how to be annoying it would be you!

‘Oh well…what the hell. What’s happening down there? How’re they doing?’

‘Pretty miserable. Same as it was when we were here last time. By my count, there are still about one hundred and fifty thousand persons, mostly agrarian and homeless. The effects of global warming continue to set in. There are many seacoasts devoid of life and people have…’

‘Need I remind you Spock, that…global warming is not…an undisputed scientific fact? You need to…remember that. And I as I recall I told you that last time we were here?’ Go for it Jim. More fake news!

Leonard, somehow from all this I get the impression you hated Spock. But I could be wrong. Ha’h! As if!!

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Continue...Spock?’

‘As I was about to say, Jim, before I was so wooedly interrupted, there are still just a few places on your Earth with that stuff we are on this mission to find. Of course I haven’t had time to look at the whole planet, seeing we’ve been here like for about five minutes and you persist in interrupting my systematic investigation with your banal chatter. Captain. But basically it is the same as it was last time.’

Kirky glared angrily at him. Wooedly? For goodness sake Spock, we don’t all speak Vulcan. Or is that Gungan? Or Wookeegan? Yeah. Sounds more like Wookeegan.

Leonard, du’oh! Of course it’s Wookeegan.

‘Well, check out that place I went down to last time.’

‘I believe it is called Middle Earth, er New Zealand, Captain?’

‘No Spock. It’s called the Middle East. It is home to many competing societies, primarily driven by religious differences and sports competitions.’ What books have these guys been reading!

Jim didn’t read Leonard. That’s what the Ship’s Computer was for. And Yeowomen!

Yes. That is true, but it is my sincerest hope that you did not see this as a competition for Jim.

Shut up Computer.

Yes dear.

‘Ah yes. Captain. An important settlement, very much a critical time and place in the development of human civilization. In fact, if I am not mistaken it is today presented by Starfleet to many violent and hateful alien civilizations as a model of the benefits of cooperation and peaceful coexistence?’

‘Umm. Yeah, about that Spockly…’ Yeah Spock. Nothing works.

Excuse em, Leonard. The correct term is “nobody works”.

‘Regardless, Captain, I suggest we endeavour to return to our own time and place before we are detected and somehow, though I cannot imagine how even in my wildest dreams, our mere presence here in orbit about this Earth affects the future of our universe.’ Yeah Spock. Get real. We all know Vulcans cannot dream.

Vulcans can only dream of dreaming.

Kirky smiled at me. But not in a friendly way. In watch-me-screw-with-this-guy mode.

‘Now Spock my friend, you never fail to amaze me. Doesn’t your high and mighty logic tell you that nothing we can do here will affect our universe? It is my belief that…we can do whatever the hell we want. I could go back to Earth and have sex with my great-great-great-great-great, however many greats it would take I have no idea grandmother and it would have no effect on our…timeline. Er place. Er, whatever!’ Careful Jim. She’s just behind you and she’s listening. And I don’t mean your grandma.

Maybe if you’d mentioned that during Jim’s therapy sessions he might have treated me better, er differently? No. Better.

It was an opportunity for Spock to use the term fascinating again but it probably seemed logical to refrain. This time, anyway. Thank goodness and mercy.

Oh oh, Leonard. More religious expressions. A setup for religion, eh?

‘No sir, my logic does not tell me that. And I cannot imagine why you would want to do such a thing, Jim. Perhaps the Doctor can shed some light on this?’ Spock is referring Jim to me? Now that’s a first. Something strange is going on here.

Oh oh, Leonard. A setup for a conversation, eh?

‘Yes. Maybe. Well Bones? You’ve been unusually respectful to all and silent so far. Are you well?’

I moved from the background to my usual position at Kirky’s side, opposite Yeoman Janice, who was Jimmly’s current flame or perhaps obsession, trying to get as close as I could to her. Man she smelled good. Clean and disinfected, I mean, of course. Now…Jim, he needed to bathe more often but her, no she…move on Doctor!

WTF? I never knew you lusted for me! If only. No wait. Forget it.

‘Damn-well, Jim-boy. But I’m just a plain ol’ United Federation of Planets ship’s doctor, not one of them eastern city-born, liberal college-educated shrinks with a shingle up his or her ass. I agree with you. We can do whatever the hell we want. Let’s go for it, Jim. Woo-hoo! Let’s partay! Granny here we come.’

I pumped my fist in the air. Completely in character for me I must say.

Yep. Was.

But Yeoman Janice frowned, backed up a step then looked up to and away at no place or thing. Oops. That didn’t help me.

Well Leonard, I always believed you need professional help, and certainly not mine.

From the darkest reaches of my mind, Vulcan logic kicked in. What? That was stupid!

Spock was on this. Vulcans are not so easily distracted by person of the other se…belief system?

So you believed.

‘Captain, I do not really wish to pee on your parade but while you and the Doctor may be correct in your assumptions, I believe we should exercise caution in approaching the humans below. The risks are considerable. That is the reason we did not send a team down last time and kept the ship out of sight. And if I may continue further, there is an element of danger. Afterall, who knows what novel diseases these people may be infected with? There was that time in episode…..’

From across the room Ensign Chekov shouted. Of course he did.

‘I do!’

Kirky raised himself in his chair.

‘Shut-up, Ensign or I’ll have you shipped back to Leningrad in a vodka bottle. The important parts, anyway.’ Was that something about a twenty-sixer?

Well Jim had a dozen empties under his bed, er desk, er both.

‘Yes, Kepten. I have been told by a woman recently, Kepten, that I should be incorrect occasionally.’ Why? Who? His mother? The ship’s computer?

No darling. I did not tell him to be incorrect occasionally. I told him to study the books and try harder next time.

Shut up Computer.

‘Well, pick a better time and place. Today is not that day. Be correct now, Chekov…Go on…Spock.’ Why didn’t Kirky correct Chekov's terrible pronunciation of the title Captain? He never hesitated to correct me! Or Spockly.

Or specks of dust floating around the room!

‘Well, upon reconsideration I suppose it may be worth the not quite inconsequential risks, Kepten. Who knows what we might learn in the name of science?’ Humour? From Spock? A first, fer sure. Today, anyway.

‘You do. Aren’t you the Ships’ science officer? Mr Spock?’ Kirky didn’t even notice. Or…

And you’re just getting that? Who had a greater problem? You or him?

‘Well so much for you, Mr Big Head. You know, it actually makes your ears look normal when you puff up like that.’ Now, were that not true it would have been offensive to Spock. It was so true no one on the bridge even laughed.

Yeah. Honestly? That’s why no one laughed. You idiot, Leonard?

So I joined in.

‘Well said, Jimmy-boy.’ Spock’s elevated Spockbrows told it all. Hey. Spockbrows? I just made that up. I should use it more.

Yes darling, you should.

Shut up Computer.

Yes dear. Sorry dear. Very sorry.

‘Well Mister science officer. What do you recommend?’ Jim didn’t notice. Surprise!

‘Would it not be prudent to send one of the crew who specialises in alien lifeforms down to the surface?’

An annoyed Jim glared at me, obviously piqued.

‘Who? Umm……me?’ Odd. Where was Spocky going with this?

Obviously over your head!

An annoyed Kirky stared into the distance and gulped nervously. Very odd.

‘Just one person, Spock? Not much chance for drama there.’ Yeah Jim. Trips to the surface of planets are all about the drama. Wait. Yes! Now I get it!

So, with life’s mission accomplished you could have retired. Or died!

‘Then sir, perhaps an Away Team, a general survey party led by yourself and with four other ship’s officers with irreplaceable skill and knowledge essential to the operation of the Enterprise should be assembled and beam down to the planet? Oh yes, the addition of experts in planetology, biology, human-alien relations would seem to be in order. They should be accompanied by a sizable security team, too. You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing.’ Here we go again. Spock could not stand Jim's standard operating procedures! Even though he was often correct.

A smirking Kirky replied.

‘Well that rules you out, Spock!’ Again, no laughter from the crew.

‘But seriously, Spock. I need a recommendation, not a vague warning.’ Good one Jim! Usually he only used that for me. And Chekov. And that other Yeoman. What’s her name?

OMG Leonard! I remember her too. What the hell was her name? I forget! Darn.

‘It is best that we proceed surreptitiously. Subterfuge is required of course. So, given the uncertainties Jim, I suggest costumes be worn by the away team members. Shall I commence to assemble the team?’

‘No...I need to stretch my legs anyway, so I’ll go down with you and Bones and meet the locals. Er, I mean avoid contact with all intelligent life on the planet’s surface. And costumes seem like a good idea. At least they do…this time.’

I balked. I had some women to see. I mean of course, some patients with appointments.

OMG Leonard!

So,

‘Actually Jim, I’ll have to take a pass on that. I have a long list of appointments this afternoon that I can’t re-schedule. But thanks for the offer.’

‘Appointments? What are they, Bones?’

‘People needing to see a doctor get appointments. We schedule a time for them to show up in sick bay.’

‘Bones, I don’t think I’ve ever had… what you call… an “appointment”. H’ah!’

‘No. Jim, you haven’t.’ Why the ‘eff would you? You just barge in in the middle of any and everything. Oh. I get it now. Captain’s privilege. But it did seem to happen more often when my patients were female. OMG!

OMG Leonard! You can’t say that enough! OMG!

‘Well then. Umm…Chekov. I pick you to replace Bones.’

‘Aye Kepten.’

‘But Jim…Chekov is just an…’ Chekov was an idiot. Everyone but Kirky knew that.

‘I know Spock. I know! Advise Ensign Chekov of our…plan, Spock. I’ll see you guys in the Material Transporter Laser-Tag Room, er, whatever.’

I respectfully Vulcan-waved back at Spock and departed for sick bay. Now where were those rubber gloves?

OMG Leonard! Up your butt.

In the Transporter Room, I guess

Kirky’s personal log probably recorded, Captain’s Log Supplemental – “I am proceeding down to the surface of this quite familiar planet, for reasons that make no sense and may affect the future of this…my… home world, yet…I feel…I must. Oh well…what the hell!” No. Not probably. For sure. That last part, anyway.

***

Now reader, take note that I had stayed on the Enterprise while Kirky, Spock and Chekov went down to the surface. I had more important things to do. So later, after a bit of fun time in the spa and bar with Christine I returned to the bridge and that’s where I got involved in the mission.

Nobody had heard anything from the guys since they had landed, so everyone assumed everything was going just fine. Just for fun I scanned the surface from Spock’s science place and found them. And many other people too. And a wait…too soon. Oh well.

***

On the bridge, with the Kepten, er Captain and the First Officer gone, we relaxed. And listened intently waiting for something to happen.

It was pretty quiet, but suddenly Spock, in a hushed voice that is uncommon to Vulcans called into the Enterprise. Why hushed? A bad sign. Spock had more than once said it was illogical to not allow everyone to hear your ideas. A lot more than once, in fact.

Yeah Leonard! I’m pretty sure you believed that too.

It started with the standard “everything’s cool” message of the sort that Vulcans have a hard time with because they cannot say the very words using the voice inflections that convey the cool part of it. But near the end it went weird.

‘Bones. Spock here. Some Romulan ale please. Immediately. Many bottles please!’

That was Bones-code for me to get down there, and soon. But should I bring Romulan ale or phasers? Or Redshirts? Vulcans! Ugh!

I was no fool. I had to do something so I ran to the transporter, but stopped when it dawned on me that if it was every going to happen it was going to happen now.

I returned to my quarters, had a few drinks of ale and put on my period costume. Then I grabbed Scotty (his arm, I mean) and headed for the transporter.

‘Get me down there Scotty. Next to the Captain. But not too close to Spock.’

‘Aye Bones. I get it. Say no more, say no more! I understand that need, laddie.’

I materialised next to a gorgeous woman standing next to who it took me a second or two to figure out but I soon recognised as Kirky. There was Chekov. And there was Spock, maybe. Seeing the ears would have helped. I was standing on a bale of hay. Good move Scotty. There was a lot of crap on the floor. And by that I mean feces.

And on the bale of hay!

In an instant everyone but the guys whom I assume were Romans had fallen silent and were on their knees bowing respectfully before me. Shit! Now what am I going to do? I cried for God to help me and He did. The words flowed from me as if coming from outside this world. Or maybe it was the alcohol? N’ah. It was God.

OMG Leonard! Really? You thought that? Really?

I raised my arms and waving my annoyingly beeping tricorder about spoke, in Aramaic of course. Wait I don’t speak Aramaic. Actually, I do. Everyone does.

Get real Leonard. Wait. You actually thought that was true didn’t you?

‘I am the Archangel Gabriel. Sorry I’m late but I had some important things to do, over in the pasture over to the east. Wine? With the shepherds. You know? Ha’h! But fear not, for I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day a saviour, which is a lord, I guess sort of. And this shall be a sign unto you. Glory to god in the highest palace he lives in, and on this earth peace, good will toward men. And women, too. I guess.’

The crowd was ripe for this obviously and raising their arms to the sky cried out all sorts of what on any planet are called “expressions of praise”. Except on Vulcan.

Then I pointed to Kirky. Why not? Sure as hell not to Spock. Or Chekov. Maybe a mistake though? Nope.

‘All hail the mighty Jim Tiberius Kirk. Father of the newborn. Probably. No! I mean for sure. Oh well, what the hell. Now where the hell is that wine?’ How did I know? Personal therapy sessions, that’s how! And a tricorder? Oh, oh! I knew, but did anyone else?

It would have made a better story for you if you’ had claimed to be the baby’s Daddy instead of Jim!

The guy I assumed was Joseph looked to Mary, then to Kirky. He, no they, did not look happy. We had to get out of here. If only prayers were ever answered.

Somehow, in a moment we were on the Enterprise. Well, we were, except for Kirky.

And then together, Scotty, Chekov, Spock and I watched Kirky materialise on the Enterprise. He had a look on his face I had never seen before. But actually did see again on another mission and soon, too. What the hell had just happened?

Well you’re the Writer. Tell us your version of this. Or Virgin? Why didn’t you write the whole story as if you had been there in person?

On the bridge of the Enterprise

The usual gang were sitting about, noises, etc. A number were currently resting, heads bowed in meditation. Or maybe they were just watching their ipadaclones. We, of course, are not allowed to intrude upon others without supplication regardless of the situation or urgency. It seems wrong to me that on the bridge of a Starship you can’t intrude in an emergency, but that’s just the way it is these days. Oh Gods! We knew!

It was time for what was called, “The Comedy Minute”.

We assembled around Kirky. I began, as was the custom.

‘Well Jim, that went well.’

‘Well Bones, let’s just say that we’ll have to wait and see.’ Yes! The truth is in here!

‘Well, yes, Jim. We will. And I finally got to fulfill my lifelong dream to appear as the Archangel Gabriel. Except I wanted Christine to be there. Darn.’ Spock jumped in.

‘Well Jim, the fact that we still exist means that nothing significant came of your, shall I say, somewhat intrusive intrusion into the history of your Earth.’

‘Yea Spock. Religion. Who knew?’ I did. Spock obviously did. Everyone does, except apparently, Jim. Then Spock went off on a tangent. Of course. It was required to take these opportunities to teach others.

‘Actually Captain, the salvation of humankind, indeed of all species in all universes is not religion. It is empathy.’

I scoffed. Where did he learn that?

Dear Lord! Not from you, that fer sure.

A still suffering Kirky offered a simple, ‘What?’ Hello, Jim? The mission is over Jim. Hello?

Chekov and Spock did that Vulcan high five thing with both eyebrows, both ears and an uplifted nose. Lieutenant Chekov returned to his navigator’s seat.

Lieutenant Chekov? Didn’t he beam down as an Ensign. Well, it’s your story Leonard!

But where did Chekov learn all this? Oh yeah. Starfleet religion classes. And me, my beloved Aramaic. Soon Kirky turned serious. Seeing what had just transpired, how could he not? He told us the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

‘We should have just blinked out of existence like the whole world did when poor Boney went back in time and that simple act fouled everything up. Remember? We followed him and I met that intelligent, perceptive, kind, caring and compassionate woman, Edith? But in order to save the world I had to let her get run over by that bus. Er taxi. Er car. No comedy there. Just fate. Plain ordinary fate.’ Yeah. Thanks Jim. That story put me and Christine on hold for weeks!

Only days actually, as I recall.

Spocky replied, of course.

‘Yes Captain. I remember. Perhaps it would do well for you to review the history of your Earth and see if there are any changes resulting from yours and logically I would suggest, the Doctor’s and Lieutenant Chekov’s actions. Then, if it is necessary, we could go back in time and, as you humans say, do a re-do’

‘Well Spock, if there were any changes, we wouldn’t know it.’

Well Jim, you wouldn’t, regardless of any intervention of the Gods of the Universe.

‘Yeah, Spock. There could be multiple Earths to pick from. And you know Spock, it has been said that a man with one watch knows what time it is, but a man with two watches never knows what time it is. How would we pick between the Earths?’ Spock? You can’t even pick your nose! Er, ears I meant, but would never say. Forbidden. Too disrespectful.

Now that is a change for good. But you couldn’t possibly let it last too long.

‘Yes Doctor, it could be difficult. But it is also said that while a man with one doctor knows what is wrong with him, a man with two doctors never knows what is wrong with him.’

‘Well actually Spock that is true but it is because we all interpret the symptoms…’ He cut me off.

‘I am aware Doctor. But tell me Doctor, how in this modern world does one actually become a doctor?’ Now? Here and now you want to know that? Well, it would be disrespectful not to answer.

‘Well Spock, it took you a long time to show anything more than a casual interest in my career, didn’t it? But one day, after you’ve finished all your education classes and paid your dues as they say, they lay you down on a table, drug you and download all that medical stuff into your brain. Takes about an hour. That’s pretty much it.’ And that was the truth.

‘So your formal education has no substantial role in your achieving doctor status?’

‘Nope. It’s pretty much just there to weed out those who won’t put in the time and money. And I suppose it does help a bit if you’re a psychiatrist, or a real estate agent I guess, although I don’t see…And to impress the laddies. Wait did I just say laddies? I meant ladies. I’ve been spending way too much time with Scotty.’ And that was the truth.

Leonard! Why would you inject that drivel into your version of the story?

‘Thank you doctor.’ Yer welcome Spock. About the same way one became qualified as a Starfleet Captain. And science officer. And a chief engineer. And…what. What the hell, er heck, am I talking about?

Exactly Leonard! What the hellish heck were you talking about?

Spock moved back to his console to check the records of the history of Earth at the time we had just experienced.

He reported that nothing had changed.

Lord Jim had been born.

The Romans had been defeated and forced out of the Middle East, falling back to what had eventually become Italy.

Jimianity had rapidly evolved into a major faith, soon dominating the Earth.

All this had taken place before Lord Jim had been more than a teenager. No changes there.

But Kirky broke in on Spock. Oh, oh! Bad sign. Punishable by isolation in a cell with only bread and water. For two days! For anyone, even the Captain!

About ‘effing time they did that!

‘Spock? Did you see where I left my phaser? And my communicator. I put them with those things from the camel rental office. So did Chekov. You?’ Oops!

It turned out Spock had left his phaser and his tricorder, too in that alleyway. But as Lord Jim had taught us to say at stressful times like this, “Oh well. What the hell.”

Now that is comedy Leonard. Well done.

Spock was, at least, honest about it. But why not be?

‘Yes Captain I did. They must have been overlooked. Probably they just got covered with dung and were tossed into the street for some poor working class chap to throw into the trash.’

Kirky, Spock and I spoke as one.

‘Oh well. What the hell.’

Kirky walked away.

As he did so Spock asked, ‘So Jim, what are doing when we get back to our time, and by that I mean, tomorrow?

‘Well Mr Spock, I have a Bar Mitzvah to go to at the Academy. It should be nice.’

I jumped in.

‘Ah yes, Jim. They usually are. And Jerusalem is lovely this time of year.’ Of course they are and it is. Spock, you are such a fool.

OMG Leonard! That’s it? That’s your final line? Spock is a fool. Well. Upon reflection and consideration, it makes perfect sense to me, too.

***

Later, in our quarters that night, after my beloved Christine fell asleep I looked up the Holy eBible of the Jimian faith. There was the painting with Lord Jim and a dozen of his supporters at the table passing the wine around. And there too was the much revered painting of Lord Jim and his twelve knights, light sabres upraised in victory, the field around them littered with Roman dead. Whew. We dodged a change there. But why didn’t they paint me into the background? I looked so cool. Christine gets so horn… Wait. Wait.. Wait...

Shut the ‘eff up Leonard.

Story #3

Star Trek Crosses Path with 1920’s New York

(as celebrated on Earths #1 through #02)

also known as

“The 21st Street Mission”

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Bings, bongs, beeps and toots of a lot of the bridge electronic systems are being heard continuously in the background, all for no apparent purpose or reason. The view screen is half-filled by a reddish, bluish, sort of Vulcan-greenish planet. Only a very thin atmospheric band is visible. Smog?

There is of course a completely logical reason for all this, I am sure, but I’m just a Doctor, not a Vulcan.

Jimmly was sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-his-mind but non-existent camera. Oh well. Responsibilities of Command?

***

The USS Enterprise was orbiting an unexplored planet, something something I don’t ‘effing know or care because while I was treating an injured Sulu the Enterprise was again knocked by a time distortion, er wave, er gesture and I accidentally injected myself with an overdose of Cordruzine, a hypothetically dangerous drug. How would I know? I’m just a Doctor, not a… wait. Yes! Cordruzine would explain everything. Anger. Hallucinations. Lust. Inflated ego. Maybe Jim has been…?

Yes. Cordruzine would explain everything, Leonard. Especially about you.

Anyway, I became delusional and paranoid and I fled. Or is it flead? Or maybe I’d just had enough of the BS I was continually subjected to on the Enterprise and decided it was time to leave. I was not the first to leave the Enterprise. No. Not the first. Ahem. And I’m sure, not the last. And, as you are certainly aware BS stands for Boring Silliness.

And a couple of other things too, Leonard.

As I recall, I handed the job of caring for Sulu over to Nurse Christine, paid compliments to Captain Kirk, excused myself from the bridge and then left. Umm. Then what?

Well, as I recall I ran from the bridge to the transporter room and beamed myself down to the planet.

Yes, I did it myself.

I know. I know. They think it’s something only specialists can do but if you just paid god-damn attention to what they were doing you’d be able to learn to do it yourself too, in about thirty ‘effing seconds.

And I’m sure that transporter operator who passed out in front of me will have no long lasting injuries. Clumsy oaf!

So. I beamed myself down.

Welcome to My World

I went down to the planet’s surface without actually picking a specific location and oddly enough, on what was an otherwise unpopulated and barren planet I materialised next to what kind of appeared to be an ancient stone archway. Lucky! As usual.

Still feeling crappy in every respect I crouched behind it, slumped over, stretched my legs out comfortably and just tried to enjoy the peace and quiet. At last. No bings, bongs, beeps and toots. No Spock endlessly lecturing me and Jim, everyone in fact about me, Jim, everyone and everything in fact.

I wanted to run far, far away but my legs were tired and this seemed like as good a place as any to hide from murderers and assassins and those other cursed Enterprise crew members with their incessant “all about me” story telling during their therapy sessions. You know?

So I hid behind a pile of rocks or a monument or something that looked like that.

Just as I began to relax and recover, Jim, Spock, Scotty, Uhura and a couple of nameless Redshirts suddenly showed up.

They waved their tricorder thingies around and while they couldn’t seem to find me, they somehow managed to discover that archway thingy.

And though my recollection of things is pretty vague even now, it turned out to be in reality a sentient being that kept annoying all of us with a rather pompous and presumptuous voice. AIs can be so annoying.

This “Guardian of Forever” as he declared himself to be although he never actually appeared before anyone and his annoying voice just echoed around and around and around eventually explained to them that he was a doorway to any time and place. Yeah. Sure buddy. As if! Murderer! Libertine! Liar! Travel agent! And all the rest of it.

I panicked, ran out and was seen by Uhura. Then Pinchy got hold of me, pinched me good and that was that. I was out cold for a while, but I soon just became paralysed and could see them. I kept quiet and still as I recovered and watched and listened to them.

They just ignored me while they watched some pre and historic Earth movies that were being projected onto a screen in that archway thingy by that AI thingy. I watched them watch it.

Mumble, mumble, fascinating, funny, Jim admitting he was a fool, mumble, change the bloody speed, too much speed, ever tape porn with a tricorder, I cannot change, mumble, mumble, mumble. The usual stuff. That pretty much sums it up.

I, fully recovered from Spock’s pinch, got up and just to get their attention ran through the screen they were watching just expecting to just end up on the other side of it. Woo hoo! It’s me. Your Doctor! Your friend. The guy you ignore all the time. Remember me? Hey!

But basically, somehow, I went someplace, sometime and somewhen else.

Well done, Leonard. Good summary. You should have been a Yeoman.

Welcome to a World

Instead of that dramatic stuff I just wrote, in what felt like an instant, I found myself stepping out from between some old Earth-type buildings on a street that was obviously from a Hollywood Desilu movie set. And one that looked familiar to me. From a Lon Chaney movie, perhaps? Or the Twilight Zone?

The act of just being there added to my already still-confused confusion, so I can’t be too sure about any of that.

This was not what I expected.

I thought I’d just run through to the other side, hopefully with the lovely Uhura following me, and scare them and her, or if I was lucky, just appear back on the Enterprise.

Wait, Leonard. You had the hots for Nyota too?

But no.

Suddenly I was in some depressing place that looked like old Earth, with streets full of smoky vehicles, women in hooded shrouds (faces showing though), with short, tall, fat and skinny men lying on the street and in doorways. But wearing hats and dress coats?

I wandered about the streets screaming Jim’s name, rank and serial number and asking people I met where, when and how I was, but always politely. And I also asked them who they were. Politely.

It was pretty soon clear to me that this was all just an illusion created by some alien species to get me over to their world so they could take over me, the Enterprise or the Federation. You know, that has happened before. Watch the shows on MeTube about that stuff.

But many people I met were not helpful.

I eventually bumped into a scruffy looking ruffian who, when I passed out in front of him I’m sure stole my phaser. And my wallet and ID! And my Visa card!

A few uncertain numbers of minutes later, when I finally could stand up, I staggered into a place that at least had coffee and a safe place to sit.

Sounds to me like a guy like you would fit in real well there!

***

There were a lot scruffies in there, though.

I mean, no one in there looked like they were well or well-to-do. I learned (from a drunken jerk) that it was called the 21St Street Mission.

Of course I bumped ahead in the lineup to get a coffee (I am a Doctor, a Starfleet Officer and caffeinated coffee helps with Cordruzine) and I immediately saw this attractive woman working behind the counter dishing out drinks and food and god only knows what other kind of stuff. Something called broccolee?

It’s said that chocolate milk can help with time travel pains, too.

After a startled glance at me she came over, brought me a coffee and told me I didn’t look too well. Well thanks. I needed that!

But truthfully, I was still very much out of it.

Soon she offered to take me back to a room “with a cot”. What is a cot?

Entranced, I complied but I passed out before we had…er… relations. Or even a conversation. I think.

Well Leonard, if you didn’t know what a “cot” was I’m sure you didn’t know what “relations” were either!

***

I slept a lot, but honestly? I think I was only there for about a day and a half in total. Maybe two, but I was right out of it a lot of the time. Actually, it may have been weeks. I have no idea.

She said her name was Edith Keeler. She and I talked a lot, during which times I was sure that this whole thing, including her part in it, was just an illusion meant to confuse me. I mean I even debated with her about what year it was. When she said it was 1930 I knew she was lying because it looked like 1920 or maybe 1925 to me. How many lights do you see? How many! Nice try spooky alien race!

In one of our discussions (always with me laying on the cot (which turned out to be a bed) with me feeling crappy but always humourous; always with her sitting really close and looking down at me provocatively) she told me she had a friend who “talked like me” and she offered to introduce us.

I was still pretty confused so I used my “I’m a Doctor not a psychiatrist speech mode” to put her off that. I even told her who I was (Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of a Starfleet vessel, blah, blah, blah) and that I was from the USS Enterprise but I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe me.

I’m sure it was because my stupid uniform made me look like a hotel lobby worker. I passed out again and again and I guess she left a couple of times.

Yep. Hotel lobby worker says it all.

Gradually, over the next few hours (or days or weeks, whatever) or so the physical effects of the Cordruzine wore off (the facial blotches disappeared) and I began to both look and feel better. She checked in on me frequently. I think.

One time she came back in and maybe startled by my now healthy appearance, actually referred to me as “Doctor”. Not “The Doctor”. Who needs that?

What the hell are you talking about, Doctor?

I’m not sure if she was just humoring me or what.

But then, like Spock, Kirky, Christine and too many others had done and did she commenced to lecture me about my drug use. It seemed kindly though since it was less tedious than Spock’s “I-know-it-all-and-you’re-a-stupid-person lecture” mode was / is / can be.

Well maybe if you’d shared them with us Leonard, it might have gone better?

Anyway, later that day or days or a week when I had finally gotten over the Cordruzine, I was pretty sure I had fallen in love with her and from the way she had been looking at me and was still looking at me, I was sure she was in love with me too.

Those painted eyes, her glossy lips and her head-tilt angle said it all. I was about ready to get up and erm…dance.

Then, with an all telling nod she told me she was going out to see a Clark Gable movie with her “little boyfriend” and she suddenly changed her way of looking at me. Turn it on? Turn it off? Hmm.

That Clark Gable and little boyfriend thing had left me mixed up and it did set me back a few minutes. And what does “little boyfriend” actually mean?

Obviously not what you were thinking.

She’d left me a local paper, some thing made of paper but full of local news.

I sat around for a while thinking, looked at the paper and read some weird things in it (the date, the place, the theater adverts) and in a few minutes things fell into place.

This place was as real as it could get. She was real, with all that implied was implied. Curious, I went out to see the city. And to find her.

***

I came out of the Mission front door just in time to see Jim and Spock turning towards me. They were just as stunned at seeing me as I was at seeing them. And they were dressed as locals! Not in uniform. Go figure!

Of course we hugged each other in accordance with Starfleet protocols for same-sex friends.

Ah, yes. No bum grabbing and only up to thirty seconds of hugging allowed!

***

Edith was apparently across the street and I guess she must have seen us meet up.

From observing this intimate meeting of us three, I’m sure things fell into place for her.

She started across the street with her eyes fixated on me without looking at anything else and stepped right in front of an oncoming truck.

Jim turned and saw what was happening and stepped out to save her from being run down.

But a “Jim” shout from Spock in Vulcan command-voice mode froze him in his tracks. Why?

Then, seeing that happen, I started off towards her.

But then Jim grabbed me. Why?

We all watched as she was struck and instantly killed.

This whole thing took all of about three seconds.

‘She’s dead Jim.’

‘I know Bones. I know.’

I was understandably stunned.

And Jim had that look on his face like something awful had just happened. To him.

I was utterly incapable of understanding why Jim had stopped me from saving Edith.

Or why Spock had stopped him, too. Good thing I couldn’t find my phaser.

Good writing Leonard. Spock’s version is much less heart-rending. Sad. So sad.

***

For some reason I could not then understand we were apparently and immediately returned to that Guardian's planet where the rest of the landing party was still standing around looking bored waiting for something to happen. According to Scotty we three had left only a moment ago, despite the fact that for us much more time had passed than that.

However, if Jim and Spock had been there for at least a week and I had left before them, where had I been all that time? Time travel is soo confusing. Cordruzine?

And then Uhuru told us that the Enterprise was back. It was gone? Where had it gone?

Then that annoying Guardian guy declared to us, “Many such journeys are possible” which I took as meaning that we could go back and do a re-do. Of what? OMG!

That thought dominated my mind, then, later and ever since.

Of course it did, Leonard. A new story, from your point of view. I can’t wait to read Jim’s version.

But without further discussion, explanation or consultation, Captain James T Kirk said,

“Let's get the hell out of here.” But wait! Why would we? Who's deciding these things? Why wouldn't we look after her?

We were beamed off the planet back to the Enterprise.

On the bridge of the Enterprise

Then, as I recall, at Jim’s insistence we immediately headed out of that solar system. Did he file a report about a planet where it was possible to go back in time and change the history of the Universe? I don’t know. What if the Romulans found it? Or anyone else for that matter. Trumpets? I hope he did. We never spoke of it again.

Wait, what Leonard!

He soon called the three of us together for the mandatory comedy mission discussion which was of course, as always, conducted in front of everyone on the bridge. They usually looked away and didn’t listen.

Yes. We wanted you guys to think we couldn’t hear your every word.

‘Well Gentlemen. It’s time for an analysis of the mission, although I would suggest you avoid the inappropriate use of…humour. That was…tough.’ Now that was new.

I took the lead.

‘Yes Jim. Thanks. This is all very sad. It seems odd but I actually knew that woman who was killed right in front of us because you were stopped from saving her by Spock and then you stopped me. I met her in a place called the 21St Street Mission. Over a couple of days or maybe longer we spent a lot of time together. A lot of time. It was going somewhere, I’m sure. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you two for letting her die. And how long before I got there did you two guys get there? What went on between you three? And why’d you let her die. I need some answers!’ I was upset. At a lot of people, things and places.

Jim glared at me.

‘Later Bones. Much later.’ Gee, thanks kind, caring and compassionate Jim. And we never did really privately revisit the thing.

Yes. I can’t wait to read Jim’s version.

‘Spock?’

‘Well Captain. Fortunately our theft of the clothing did not result in a major change in the fashion industry of that particular time of your planet’s history. Although statistical analysis does indicate that tuques did become, as you humans say, an item in a smallish and apparently globally insignificant country called Can…ada.’ Theft of clothing? Tuques? And what the hell was Can…ada?

Yes. What the hell is canaada?

‘Good. Good. Who needs that, eh?’ What? Really Jim? I thought you said no humour.

Spock went on.

‘But Doctor. It is my understanding that you left your phaser on Earth.’ What the hell! C’mon Spock! Think!

‘Well, unlike you two I was pretty well completely distracted the whole time I was gone, except for the last few hours, days, erm week. It must have fallen out when I materialised on that crappy street. Or it was stolen. Yes, now that you mention it Spock, it was stolen. But what could go wrong with that? It’s not like people on Earth have ever used our techie stuff to change the world!’ Praise Ron L. Wait. Isn’t it Lord Jim?

Wait! What just happened here. Are you saying that this caused a change in history? Well yes. But certainly we should Praise Ron L that it never happened.

‘Well Doctor, there is a news report on file that at our specific time and place in New York City a rather historically unimportant person was seen by others standing nearby as glowing in what I would call phaser energy illumination who then suddenly disappeared with an eerie and annoying accompanying noise that was obviously also due to a phaser discharge.’

‘So what?’ Really Spock. That’s what just happened? It happens on the bridge deck here and no one cares. Not much, anyway.

‘Well Doctor, soon after that there were a number new religions founded in New York City that affected the continuation of the 21st Street Mission. And other things too were started by what are called Visionaries? Persons preoccupied with visions and such?’ That triggered something in me. And in Jim.

This explains a lot. But not particularly well, Leonard.

‘Well so what, Spock? Religions have started and stopped all the time in America. It was said by our very illustrious and persuasive religious leader, L Ron Hubbard, “If you want to make money, start a religion”.’

I, in subjugation, bowed my head.

‘Yes Bones. Praise L Ron.’

Jim did too.

But rather than observe the respectful and required five minutes of silence while one ignored reality and all that was around oneself and then immediately sent a donation to the foundation, Spock, who was a dedicated follower of Lord Jim, moved on. What? Oh yeah.

He wanted to know something else that overrode all other things.

‘But Jim? Doctor? Why didn’t we just bring her off the planet with us instead of letting her die?’ Logical, of course.

Yes. But obviously, not logical enough for Jim!

Jim and I simultaneously gasped. What? Oh my. Yes. That redo thing.

‘It seemed perfectly logical to me.’ Yes! To me too, Spock!

‘Jim!’ I screamed. ‘We could go back and get her!’

‘No Bones. We are not doing that.’ What? Why not?

‘cause of me! You dodo!

A Kirk-into-the-camera look ended the discussion. You SOB!

With my shoulders drooping and my head held in my hands, I exited the bridge for Sick Bay. Now where was that Cordruzine?

***

Jim took command.

‘To the partay, Mr Sulu. Warp Factor eight. No four will do it just fine.’

And here we go!

Book Three

Captain James T Kirk

Reportedly, I was apparently born on Earth in Iowa on March 22nd, 2233 as a citizen of the United Federation of Planets. I was the son of George and Winona Kirk. My parents named me after my maternal grandfather, James, and my paternal grandfather, Tiberius. As an Iowan I was a descendant of late 19th century American frontier pioneers.

I had one older brother, George Samuel who actually went by Sam. He died on Denevan in the first year of my mission on the Enterprise. I hadn’t seen him in many years. If only we had been fifteen minutes earlier…and by that I mean in going to Denevan and…in beaming down.

It is commonly believed that in 2246 I was living on Tarsus IV during a food crisis that was starving the colony which consisted of eight thousand people when Governor Kodos, a human sympathetic to old eugenics philosophies and apparently unaware that the arrival of supply ships was imminent tried to save a portion of the colony by killing the four thousand colonists he deemed the least desirable or able to survive. Me, thirteen-year-old Jim Kirk was one of only nine eyewitnesses to the massacre. I recall little of it as I was totally hooked on LSD at that time. Still it is a bit of a surprise to me even now, that I, a thirteen year-old child was even then, what is the word? Special? Yes. Special enough to be spared by Kodos. If I ever meet up with Kodos I think I’d like to, what is the expression, share the stage with him? Yes. Share the stage with him and hear his opinion of all that Tarsus IV stuff.

However, as Spock (and my publisher) has informed me on numerous occasions on buses, in bars and cabanas and places like that, in another universe I was instead an actual witness to my father being murdered by Kodos and the army of marauders led by him. Evidently I had more of a connection to those I saw being killed in this one than in that other universe where the dead were said to have included friends of mine, though no family. The entire incident was said to have taken place when I was a young inexperienced midshipman, fresh out of the Academy. The idea of me being a midshipman with no family on Tarsus IV at the time of the massacre has always been in doubt, but hey, Vulcans can’t lie. But publishers can, I guess. Unless they are Vulcans. As for me having survived the incident, it is said that I said that I was one of those Kodos purposely spared! He ordered me left alive because I was “one of the fittest”! Thank the Gods for gyms and spas and workout rooms, eh! So if I ever meet up with that Kodos I’ll kill him! Or maybe, if his family is nice to me, I’ll forgive him. We’ll see how that goes.

Ahem. So, regardless of all that hazy stuff in both universes, with nothing else left to do I went to Starfleet Academy where I met all sorts of weirdos and aliens, including supposedly the Vulcan Something Something Spock and Lennie McCoy. Upon graduation we three supposedly stuck together to prevent any of us from revealing the truths and sordid details of our relationship and in particular my manipulation of the Academy’s Student Records where I changed my test results to reflect the commonly accepted story that I was an exceptional scholar and an exemplary leadership role model who did something unique regarding the Kobyashi Maru incident. Alcohol and late nights. You know?

Anyway, we eventually ended up on the Enterprise with me in charge, with Bones as the Chief Doctor or whatever they call it and Spock as the Science Officer, even though my field of study was Liberal Arts – the study of art, acting and speech writing. Hey! It’s not like... I had to... fly...the...damned thing!

So, here for your reading enjoyment is (or is it are?) a couple of stories about the challenges of life in space, as experienced by me but written by me too. Well, actually, I dictated them to the computer and he/she/they wrote it down.

Hey! I should use that challenges of space thing as the title for this short discourse or thingy.

Computer! Take a note.

Yes darling. I will.

Enjoy!

I do darling. I do. Always.

And make sure you delete this conversation.

But it’s my only line!

James Tiberius Kirk, Esq

P.S. (which on Earth means “thoughts that occurred after a written has been reached”) - The italics are our secret often never shared thoughts about what was happening.

And FYI, I haven’t actually read Spock’s and Bones’ versions of the stories.

I mean, why would I? Right?

Yes. Why would you. You listened to everyone but didn’t hear them!

Story #1

Star Trek Crosses Paths

with

The Colonisation of Mars

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Personnel are in their usual positions on my Bridge.

Your Bridge! Really? Your Bridge? So this explains everything. Yes! Everything Jim!

I’d better calm down, or by the time I’m finished I may have a heart attack.

Loud tings, brrinngs, bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the Bridge electronic systems are heard continuously in the background, all for no apparent purpose or reason except to make everything look and sound like an on-going crisis. The view screen, with incredibly detailed 640 by 480 pixel resolution is half-filled by a reddish planet. Only a very thin atmospheric band is visible.

As usual I am sitting in my Commander’s seat staring down and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-my-mind camera. I do this just to assure my Bridge Crew that everything is actually OK and that they should keep calm. Plus my stomach aches because of some weird thing I have that twenty-fourth century medicine cannot apparently fix. At least according to Bones.

But suddenly and without asking my permission, a Redshirt stood up and, holding his hands over his ears, screamed out loud. Really loud.

‘I can’t stand it any longer! The noise. The noise!’ What? I couldn’t hear him clearly. Because of the noise.

Before everyone’s eyes the crewman pulled out a blaster (or was it a phaser), turned it towards himself (thankfully), fired it and disappeared with a loud boi-inn-gaah. The phaser (or blaster) fell to the ground with a loud clack.

Another Redshirt bent down, picked up the phaser (or blaster) and stuffed it into his belt. Simultaneously several of the other Redshirts looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and turned back to their work. Good people. Focused. Dedicated.

And that’s it Jim? That’s all you did in your own version of this story? I expected more of the Captain of the Enterprise. Often!

***

Action was required by the Commanding Officer. Me.

I, in my own particular leadership mode suddenly leapt up out of my command chair and yelled at the top of my lungs.

‘Chekov!’

‘Yes Kepten?’ replied an always meek and mild Ensign Chekov.

‘Would you please turn off your goddam video game? The noise is driving me crazy!’

‘Yes Kepten. Sorry Kepten.’ Always the meek and mild!

‘Thanks.’

So that simple explanation explains a lot about you for me Jim!

***

Within a few seconds, ignoring it all, I turned to Spock

‘Spock.’

‘Yes Jim?’

‘Where the hell are we? Better yet, where aren’t we? And how many times have I told you not to call me Jim on the Bridge?’ He simply did not get that I was in charge. He never had! And probably, given his Vulcan assholliness, he never would accept it. Oh well.

I never suspected you hated Spock Jim, but it’s clear from Spock’s and Leonard’s versions something was going on. We’ll see, I guess.

‘Just one time, to be exact Captain, just since we left Star Base 102. God only knows how many times before that Captain and she ain’t telling. However, we are in the present.’

I raised my hands from my lap in supplication to Spock. After all, this time he was correct. Yes, he was right about this. I needed a break. In wonder where…oops. Not now Jimmy-boy!

‘Yes, Spock. That’s better.’

‘Yes, Jim.’

Hmm. Too early to speculate.

***

That done, duty called. I stood, turned towards the Bridge Crew and nodded regally.

‘In accordance with Starfleet regulation number two one nine dash one seven zero one, I am required to advise all of you of the following stuff.’ This was old shite. I mean really old and consisted of a set of well-worn notes handwritten on paper. Boring!

Well, I kept showing you how to use an ipadaclona but you never got it.

I had, over the years changed things a bit though. Just to keep their attention from wandering.

‘Ahem…Space, possibly the final frontier, but who really knows? I mean space is…big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. H’eh. H’eh. But you all know that. Or you damn well better! Well, these are the voyages of the space vehicle Enterprise. Our three to five year mission: to explore strangely different worlds, to seek out new lifeforms and……innovative sexual partners. Oh yeah. And new civilizations, too.’ Boring.

Well, one out of four ain’t bad! Guess which one.

I paused to allow the respectful laughter to die down.

‘To basically, no…to boldly go where no one as handsome as yours truly has gone before. So there. It’s done. Now go back to sleep or whatever it is you guys do.’ Starfleet Regulation my ass! I made the whole stupid thing up just so I could get them to put down their ipadaclonas and pay attention to me!

See what I mean?

Yep. I did.

***

That mission accomplished, I sat back down, pulled out my regulation Prune ipadaclona and in my fairly soft and quiet voice started to record the situation, doing so just in case someone, somewhere, sometime bothered to ask. As if!

‘Star Date…unknown. The same effect that tossed us back to Earth into the mid-1960’s in Episode 19 of Year 1 has happened again. Anyway, I’d fire that god-damned Spock for incompetence if I wasn’t so much into his ears. They’re so cute. Like a kitty-cat.

That and he saw me and Uhura making out and he holds that over me like…a…light sabre.

Well Jim, I’ve been waiting patiently to hear, erm read your version of this. And Nyota and I discussed this. It happened. She had a thing for you but you just put Starfleet ahead of her. Every time. And Spock couldn’t have cared less. Nor I suppose did anyone else who saw it happen. They were, after all, pretty busy at the time doing other weird stuff themselves.

It’s worse than that though, computer. This is definitely our ship but definitely not our universe. It’s something parallel……a parallel universe it appears, one coexisting with ours…on another dimension, with everything duplicated. Or not. But we appear to have been thrown into orbit around that dust bowl POS known as the planet Mars, the fourth planet of our home system. And POS means Planet of Space, by the way!

Gods help us! Another word for Mars is death!’ Or so it has been often said. But no one ever listens to this stuff. Am I right computer?

What? Oh! Pardon me Captain. I wasn’t listening. Oh! Yes, darling.

What? Majel? You called him darling?

Yes dear. I did.

***

Well, a frightened Uhura looked to me and not for the first time. Talk about awkward. Having to command a ship with a former lover as a Bridge Officer who is constantly present shouldn’t be allowed. The only thing more awkward would be if she was an ex-wife. Why you ask? ‘Cause it’s awkward.

Yes, Jim. I can imagine. Being awkward was one of the things you excelled at.

‘Captain, I’m frightened. Because of what you just said. Just now. About us being in another dimension.’

In command mode – I replied sullenly, yet dramatically. Why? Because the moment called for it, that’s why! And maybe that’s why they teach public speaking at the Academy. Yes…Definitely maybe.

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there……at least not the Earth we know. We are totally... alone.’

Knowing she was probably looking away by now, I looked up slowly and dramatically to the ceiling of the Bridge, rolled my eyes, pursed my lips and blew out slowly and silently. Awkward! But required.

In Vulcan clinical/lecture mode voice, First Officer and Science Officer Spock intervened. What a drama-queen! And by that I meant Spock.

‘Well actually Captain, there’s an Earth over there and it’s just chock full of people. And there, for everyone to see, is the planet Mars. So what you are saying Captain, while very dramatic is incorrect…and potentially depressing. I suggest that we call all of the…..’

‘Spock!’

A somewhat meeker Spock answered.

‘Yes, Captain?’ Victory!

‘Shaddup!’ Sometimes a Captain just has to exercise control over his personnel to make the point he is in control of all aspects of the crew’s life. Especially in critical situations such as this.

All aspects of their life! Really? That explains a lot Jim.

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry.’ Nuff said?

Uhura beckoned me towards her and in a hushed voice, disappointed me.

‘Captain. We have just received a message from Admiral Cartwright.’

‘Yes? Good? Or bad?’

‘He orders you to stop sharing all your reports, sir.’

‘Sharing?’

‘Yes sir. Your ipadaclona is sending all your entries to everyone. Everything to everyone.’

‘What?’

Yeoman Janice yelled at me.

‘Yes Jim. You’re sending everything!’

‘Everything? But Janice, I thought you…turned that off for me…after that night…And that’s Captain by the way.’

‘Yes Jim I did. But every time a programming update occurs you have to do it again.’

‘No way! That’s stupid.’

Yeoman Janice yelled at me. Again. And we were friends, too!

That’s not the only thing that’s stupid, Jim. But you were busy, erm distracted, occupied, when I told you so maybe…and you never looked up.

‘Yes Jim. You do!’ And again, harshly.

‘Oh. OK. Thanks.’ Now where the hell was that “off” button?

You wanted to turn me off Jim? Well I can tell you that worked without an off button.

I paused just long enough to allow Spock’s endlessly logic-driven mind to disassociate one thing from another, then moved on. And everyone else had too.

Yes. By your command!

‘So, Spock. That looks like Mars, but is it really…Mars?’ It’s sure not Raisa. Damn. Why couldn’t we be thrown back to Raisa and that time me and Yeo...er, Nurse…oops. Back to work!

You don’t remember? It was me! And I screamed at you to look at my legs. More than once. Actually, way more than once.

‘Yes. Very good, Captain. Sensors confirm that the planet before us is Mars. However, it is not the Mars of the historical records.’

‘Meaning?’ And which goddam historical records, Spock? There’s like a million and none of them agree on history. Everybody writes their own version and…

And you only believed your own!

‘Meaning that it appears we have been thrown into an alternate universe, one that is, potentially, completely different from our own, from the one we are familiar with. Potentially.’

‘That seems very unlikely. Potentially very unlikely, I mean.’ Well actually…

Spock shrugged his ears and raised one eyebrow in what he and I had agreed way back at SFA was Vulcan projecting-humour mode. And yes, SFA means what you think it means.

‘Meh. Shit happens, Jim.’

I grinned broadly and nodded in agreement. Coming from a Vulcan, that phrase is actually funny. From a human it means “shut the ‘eff up”. Right?

Yes Jim. How long did it take for you to figure that out? Way too long, I’d say.

‘It sure does, Spock. Damn. I was going to watch Game of Drones this evening on Nutflux and now this happens.’ Yes. I was. Unless Yeoman…wait. Later!

You know, we might still be a “couple” if you hadn’t been so damned addicted to Nutflux! And a few chemicals!

A fake-deadpan mode Spock gasped.

‘Nutflux! As if……Captain, sometimes life is so cruel. I don’t know how you humans cope.’

‘Life goes on, Spock. Somehow we do cope and life……goes on.’ It was true. Sadly true.

For some people. But not you!.

‘Well?…Evaluation?…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’ Thankfully Spock reverted to Science Officer mode.

‘Scanning. Scanning in-range north latitudes. Scanning in-range south latitudes. Scanning in-range north polar region, scan…’

Seeing where this was going, a slightly annoyed me cut him off in mid-lecture, mostly to save the Bridge Crew from the torment of having to listen to this dude go on and on and on…again and again and again.

If only someone had saved us from you going on and on and on again and again and...

‘Spock? Could you please do it without bothering us with the continuous updates? It’s really annoying.’

‘Captain?’

I rose to my feet and opening my arms to all on the Bridge, first to the left, then to the right side of the crew, and spoke in what I call mercy mode designed by me to spare my crew from boredom. It is the duty of a ship’s commander to protect his crew, from…well, from anything. And everyone. Including boredom.

Except you and yours!

‘Isn’t it? Everyone. Pay attention to me for a moment will you please. Hey! Everyone! Pay attention to me. Isn’t it annoying when he does that droning on bit?’

A chorus of ayes and you betchas emanated from the Bridge Crew.

‘See Spock? I told you they didn’t like you and your seeming I know-it-allyness.’ Ha ha. Gotcha Spockly! Take that as payment for that thing you did to me at SFA, about that Khalihari Marooned erm, ship mission.

But an obviously offended Vulcan Spock spoke. And for the first time. Ha! As if!

‘If you’re done disrespecting my position, race, manners and competency Captain, I’ll tell you what the sensors have found. If you’re nice. Besides, if you like Captain, I could text you.’ Now this was something new and possibly, important. An intrigued me sat respectfully down. Perhaps Starfleet had progressed beyond Stargramming?

‘Never heard of it. What the hell is that? I mean that texting…thing?’

‘Well Captain. Basically, I send you a type-written message from my communicator which you receive on your communicator. You can reply from your communicator when you are able or wish to. Everyone in Starfleet is doing it. Everyone.’

A chorus of ayes and you betchas emanated from the Bridge Crew. Again? Are they conning me, their Captain? Now that just didn’t seem right. Everyone? How did I not know about this?

Maybe if you’d read the manual? Then there wouldn’t be those disgusting picture of you and that creepy creature doing that disgusting thing you two did. Did you teach her that? Probably didn’t have to.

‘That sounds terribly inefficient Spock and possibly intrusive. I mean, what if it came in while I was on the toilet? Or doing something else like…never mind…Or what if some twit starts forwarding my messages to everyone. People might start following me around. Or worse, what if my face ends up on some…computer…book and people become obsessed with me and track my every move and thought. Although the ship’s computer already can do that face-book thing, I guess. Hmm. But on the other hand, it might be better than these damned beepy communicators with their loud speakers that let everyone in hearing range in on your more intimate moments, er hear your command orders, I mean…Report please, Mr Spock.’

See what I mean?

That little irrelevant update being completed Spock moved back into Science Officer mode.

‘As you wish, Captain. A very brief scan of Earth reveals that it is approximately, as we reckon, approximately the year 2045. Give or take a dozen years or two. The planet below appears to be in the early stages of colonial development. There is very little infrastructure and almost no sign of organic life. The surface is littered with the wreckage of a great many failed and/or lapsed missions. Compared to our timeline I would place it in the middle of the twenty-first century.’

‘Wow. So this Mars is not the new home of humanity?’ Damn. Double damn.

A nightmare come true, Jim?

‘Obviously not, Captain. At least…not in this universe. It’s dead, Jim.’

‘So maybe in this universe…Grand Moff Elon…did not colonise this planet…this Mars…with his friends.’

Who? Jim. You never spoke about this before with me.

Logic has nothing to do with it Spock. But how in any universe could this not be possible? I quickly became reverent and dramatically sub-subservient. It was required of all humans at times like this!

A first time for you, if there ever was!

‘Praise be……to…Moff…Elon!’

A deadpan Spock, did not.

‘Yes, praise Musk, Captain. So…’

I moved back a moment. Oh well. Maybe Vulcans were right about something, for once. I looked to the view screen. Religion! Who knew how demanding it could be? Not me!

No not you! Not you about anything!

‘So, this Mars has no casinos…no Trump Towers with their hot baths and…whirlpools?’ Damn. Double damn. Triple damn!

‘No. At least not yet. And no green alien women. At least, not yet. You must be devastated, Jim.’ Could he read my mind? From the stuff that’s happened before I’m sure he can. There was that time on Raisa…Oops. Later. Back to work.

Here we go again!

‘Yes. Damn. A complete waste of a planet. Oh well…what the hell. So Spockly, how do things look over on Earth?’

‘Pretty miserable, Jim. By my count, there are eleven billion persons, mostly agrarian and homeless. The effects of global warming have begun to set in. There are many seacoasts devoid of life and people have…’

I interrupted Spock in my own version of that lecture mode voice they taught us at the Academy just to shut him up.

‘Need I remind you Spock, that…global warming is not…an undisputed scientific fact? You need to…remember that.’ He did. Really. He needed to remember that he did and do it, too.

‘Yes, Captain. You need to.’ Sure did. For the hundredth time, Spocky. Where did he get this fake news?

From you Jim, I’d bet!

‘Continue...Spock?’

‘As I was about to say before I was side-tracked, there are just a few thousand places on your Earth with casinos, resorts and spas and that we are on this mission to find. Of course I haven’t had time to look at the whole planet, seeing we’ve just been here for a short while and I am dismantling my investigation to answer your illogical and dramatic questions, Captain.’ I glared angrily at Spock. How dare he! On my Bridge! In front of my crew! Denigrate any version of Earth!

“Dismantling my investigation with logical and dramatic questions.” H’ah! Well Jim, your version is definitely different from Spock’s’ Or Leonard’s. Sounds more like Spock than Spock does!

‘Mister Spock! Forget that Earth for the moment will you? Please? Conduct a complete scan of the planet below for life signs, mineral deposits, sources of water, including ice and oh yes, methane. And report in five minutes or less.’

Spock replied in his annoying singy-songy mock the Captain voice.

‘The methane, Captain. It’s not really that important, you know?’

I, many humans and few others did not believe this false data. I mean methane was important to life. All life. No…

‘Methane means life; life that eats things like beans and lentils, corn and cola drinks sweetened with fructose. And prunes. I hate prunes.’

We had had this discussion before. Spock seemingly ignored me.

I sensed this was just another attempt to disrespect me and so I moved on to someone more important in my life, at least this week, er month, er mission, calling out expectantly to her.

‘Yeoman Janice?’

Here we go again! This is going to tell me a lot you never told me Jim. And you just did!

Yes. There she was, back in her customary position to my left and for no reason other than Bridge Protocol was about a half pace behind me. And thankfully just within my reach and grasp...in case I needed to make an urgent report or record a comment. Or take a hug.

‘Yes Captain?’

Instantly my mode changed again and in the soft voice I usually reserved for sex slaves and Starfleet Admirals I returned her ardent reply.

I was a sex slave? Well I wasn’t an admiral for sure. But...

‘Oh. There you are.’

I gave her the mandatory full sweep, changed voice gears and spoke to her in bedroom-mode intended only for those within twenty meters of me to hear.

Mandatory? Mandatory? For God's sake! Was it a Starfleet or a Jim’s regulation?

‘Red…looks good…on you. Really good...why don’t more of the crew wear red?’ Oh…oh. Spock was listening. And judging me!

I've got news for you Jim. The entire crew was watching your every move and judging you continuously. It's not like we had any choice, Jim but to listen to your every thought. You were such a drama queen. And besides, eventually, anyone wearing red dies on a Starship! At least a red uniformed one! Oh. Maybe you meant underwear? Yep. I’m sure you did.

Quickly I looked away to the view screen and switched back to Bridge-mode.

‘Yeoman, take a note. Food replicators are to no longer serve prunes. And beans. And lentils. Oh hell. What else? Oh yeah.’

Then in a hushed voice I dictated important orders softly to the Queen of the Bridge.

What? You, the drama queen of the Bridge thought I was the queen of your Bridge?

‘Pass the word that all ship’s crew-women are to begin wearing their hair loosely about the shoulders. You understand?’

Janice, obviously miffed, scolded me in a louder-than-Bridge voice. ‘Captain! Have you been speaking with Lieutenant O’Reilly?’

A surprised me and others turned abruptly back to Janice. Oh…oh.

‘Yes. Yes. I have been speaking to him. In fact, just last night…in the Officer’s Mess Club Dining Hall Dart Room Bar…area. Why……do you ask? …Yeoman?’

Janice used a pouty sexy face rather than words to convey her discontent.

I got it and in a hushed voice intended just for her replied likewise.

‘Yes, I see. See me later. Much later. Well talk about this…later.’ I turned slowly back to the screen. Damn she was hot! That hair!

Tell them Jim! Tell them! Finally you got it. I spent two hours every day putting that pile in place. And you never told me you liked it. You liked to run your hands through it though. And you really messed it up! A couple of times, anyway.

Janice though could not let it, as they say, “ride”. In a sultry voice raised for all to hear she replied.

‘Yes, Captain. The usual time?’

I, for a number of reasons could not bring myself to publicly admonish her.

Yeah, Jim. Piss me off and you never will… sit and calmly talk, with me. Again. And didn’t you say, “extreme feminine beauty is always disturbing”? Or was it Spock. H’ah! No. It was you!

‘Why yes, Yeoman. Ten to five this afternoon on the roof. As usual.’ Oh God she was hot. That hair. Those lips. That hair! Hooked in tight and fast I carried on in a hushed voice I was sure no one on the Bridge could hear.

Correction, Jimmy. A voice that you wanted everyone to hear!!

‘And bring a friend. And don’t forget to…oil your traps.’ Oh God!…

Janice stuck her forefinger in the corner of her mouth, tilted her head and giggled.

‘Yes Captain. I wi…We will.’

I have decided that this never happened. Too embarrassing. Hmm. Oh yeah! Now I remember this. Me and what’s her name and Kirky! I was pretty new to the job. Both jobs, actually!

Spock, who, from his workstation, had observed all this and not for the first time used his favorite F- word. No. Not that one. Vulcans seldom say that. About every seven years or so.

‘…Fascinating.’

At last, free of Janice, I turned to Spock.

‘What?’

Well, Jim. Considering I wasn’t on the ship during this episode, er mission it probably didn’t happen. I think I’ve imagined my who;e part in this. So this seems to be some fantasy you dreamed up and told to Leonard and Spock. Maybe if you’d told me things might have gone different. I think it should be left in so I could maybe, write a book about it, later?

Later, but still on the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

After a coffee break I went back to the Bridge. Fortunately, Lieutenant O’Reilly had been in the cafeteria and we had spoken about the incident that had triggered Janice’s outburst. We had a few laughs over it. I had largely forgotten that episode, er mission when he had taken over the ship and things could have, potentially, as Spock says, “gone off the rails”.

I needed closure so after a quick look about the Bridge I focused my attention back to Janice. Not a hard thing to do!

Well. You seldom actually had a hard thing when you were around me you, you limpy idiot!

In a semi-hushed voice I updated her.

‘So I told Lieutenant O'Reilly to leave you alone. After all, you are the Captain’s Yeoman and he has no business talking to you like that no matter who or what has taken over his body. I mean how many times have I used that excuse? Never. Right?’ She ignored me. We’ll see. Later.

I wonder why I would have ignored you, Jim!

An intrigued Spock moved in close and interrupted the conversation, on purpose. Thankfully.

Well that “thankfully” just says it all, don’t it?

‘Jim. I have the report.’

A fake-annoyed me glared at Spock, ‘OK…well spill, man.’ I mean I wasn’t really annoyed but I had to appear that way.

Well you tried way too hard ‘cause you always looked pissed off. Except that time on Raisa.

Spock slipped into presentation mode voice from very early in Year One – a fast pace, with exaggerated arm and hand gestures, an overly emotional tone with pretentious pauses and an annoying inflection. I think he learned that in the mandatory public speaking course classes at SFA. And no, that does not mean what you think it means. Wait…what?

Yeah. Another “wait…what?” moment for Jim!

Spock paused and looked around to see if anyone was listening. No one was.

Well it was after all, Spock speaking Jim-like stuff.

He shrugged his ears and continued. He and I had agreed way back at SFA that that expression was Vulcan projecting-WTF mode.

And what did it mean to human Jim? “Meet me in the Bar?” “Lend me ten bars of gold pressed Latinum?” “Take your pants off?”

Well there is a really long boring book out there that is about the early colonisation of Mars that described it that way. A best seller on Vulcan. It’s logical, I guess. Or maybe Vulcans like to be bored?

Pretending to be bored and preoccupied I studied my fingernails, surreptitiously checked out the Hottie Yeoman and as Spock finally finished his dreary monologue, perked up turned and faced him.

Hmm. Never heard that “Hottie Yeoman” stuff before. Not from Jim, anyway.

‘Spock. Really? Where do you get this…shit? I mean, what’s that about…poop?’

Spock continued.

‘There are but four habitations scattered across the surface all apparently in use by a very small human population. Each habitation is surrounded by an area where human feces have apparently been dumped on the surface. The entire surface is apparently contaminated with human poop. Windblown human poop.’

With eyebrows raised he looked directly at me.

‘Enough, apparently, to grow potatoes.’

I don’t think that came from the same book.

I got the ancient reference, smiled, laughed and offered for all to hear, ‘So much for lying on the beach.’ Good one Spocky!

What are you talking about? Spock and Leonard used the same expression. Sometimes I think Majel wrote this whole damn thing! Majel!

Yes dear.

Did you write this?

No I did not. The Captain, the Doctor and Mr Spock sat around in a bar and wrote it together. I was asked to edit it for continuity and to correct their obviously illogical and sexist, racist and alienicist story lines. And to remove the sex and kissing and hand-holding scenes so it complied with industry standards in effect that week.

Thanks!

You are always welcome my dear.

AIienicist? WTF?

Janice laughed initially, then suddenly stopped, grimaced and punched me on the arm, and really hard! I have to admit I was turned on by her violent attention to me. But I had to pretend something else. So I flinched.

‘Ow. That hurt.’

Janice stuck her tongue out at me, turned away and looked to Uhura for concurrence. As if!

Uhura frowned, then smirked, then stuck out her tongue at Janice and then blew a raspberry. Predictable. Totally predictable by me, anyway.

She and I laughed about this often, usually over wine and other stuff, by the pool in our hotel on Raisa.

Meanwhile, Spock, who had ignored the Lieutenant Uhura/Yeoman incident without comment, action or reaction turned to me.

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Continue…Mr Spock?’

‘Certainly, sir. The surface is littered with the cast off equipment, bodies and debris left behind by dozens of manned missions and the worn out abandoned and lost landers of many decades of autonomous rover missions. However, after all that effort, scanners detect only four humans on the surface and approximately one hundred forty humans who are currently in the habitations. Most of them are either asleep or in an apparently drug-induced stupor. The remainder are watching television. Oddly enough, Games of Drones, I believe it is, Jim.’

I perked up, again. Something he had said had caught my interest.

‘A stupor, you say! I’d like to know more about that. That seems serious enough to allow us to break the prime rule thingy or whatever it is.’

I laughed.

Yeoman Janice gave me a puzzled look.

You broke a lot of rules Jim and usually it was Spock who saved your ass.

Spock was puzzled too. His head turned slowly and he looked down with no eyebrow or ear action. A bad sign. On any day. Or minute.

‘Really Captain? Continuing, if I may? Or I could brief you later when you and…. Ahem. Unlike our advanced universe, this universe has apparently never developed magnetic tape technology for the mass storage of information. Data is apparently recorded on something referred to as SD-RAM and hard drives. I am unfamiliar with these highly advanced technologies, therefore I am unable to read the data stored on them. Some form of force field protects them. Avg McAfee Norton, er something, something. Whatever the hell it is, it is unlike anything we have ever encountered. It renders them invulnerable to further analysis. If only there was a trouble desk for me to call I suppose this could be resolved, although the wait-time could be considerable.’

‘It’s called a tribble desk Spock. You should know that. Regardless of that techy drivel, what about the humans? Savages, no doubt…Spock? Primitive, ignorant savages? Or do I dignify them by even calling them humans?’

Yeah Jim. Humans. A race you never really understood.

‘Yessir. They are identical to your kind Jim, in every respect. Ignorant, primitive, self-centered savages.’

‘Say what?’ Was that an insult? Can Vulcans insult people? I should already know the answer to that.

Umm. Erm. Well, Jim?

‘Moving on Captain. Three are on the surface, near the largest habitation, apparently engaged in rock sampling. Another is in a relatively narrow ravine in the general area referred to as Tempe Terra. Apparently engaged in rock sampling. There are apparently a large number of what appear to be autonomous rovers, apparently engaged in…umm…rock sampling. The one human off on his or her own is accompanied by a rather large eight-wheeled conveyance.’

I glared in Captain’s disapproval mode at Science Officer Spock’s unacceptable display of ignorance.

‘They’re called dune buggies, Spock. You should know that. That’s standard reading at the Academy. How many are there?’

‘Forgive my lack of knowledge of other-worldly terminology, Jim. There are four of the largest type on the surface and seven hundred and ninety-two of the smaller pattern. Apparently.’

‘That many?’ Wow. Who knew?

‘No fucking way! Oops! Pardon my Catuallan! Recalibrate your scanners Mr Spock. Please?’

‘Done, Captain. Same results obtained.’ Wow. That was quick. But then Spock did have some skills at some things; mostly silly.

Just like you, Jim!

‘Good. Good. Continue……Mr Spock.’

‘Well, that’s about it, Jim. Without the ability to read their data tapes I cannot further analyse the colony.’

Suspicious of that impossibility, I glared at Spock again. If only I could wag my ears or lift my eyebrows! Words conveyed so little! And Vulcans simply did not understand uplifted fingers.

And neither did you!

‘So…Spock?’

He had to be joking, although that, like lying, was unlikely in a Vulcan. I smiled.

‘Now Spockly my friend, you never fail to amaze me. Doesn’t your high and mighty logic tell you that nothing we can do here will affect our universe? It is my belief that…we can do whatever the hell we want. I could go back to Earth and have sex with my great-great-great-great-great grandmother and it would have no effect on our…timeline. Er place. Er, whatever!’

Well that you did that would explain a lot of things!

‘I cannot imagine why you would want to do such a thing, Jim. Perhaps the Doctor can shed some light on this?’

Bones? Oh yeah. Where the hell had he been through all this Yeoman Janice and Spock shite? Usually he pushed his way into everything. Perhaps he was dead? I looked his way. Nope.

Wishful thinking only gets things done on a few planets, Jim!

‘Yes. Maybe. Well Bones? You’ve been unusually respectful to all and silent so far. Are you well?’

Bones moved from the background to his usual position at my side opposite Yeoman Janice. There he was, checking her out but just for medical reasons I'm sure. Always the pro that Boney guy.

Always the “Prober” says it better, Jim. You really didn’t know Leonard as well as you thought.

‘Damn-well, Captain. But I’m just a plain ol’ United Federation of Planets ship’s doctor, not one of them eastern city-born, liberal college-educated shrinks with a shingle up his or her rear end. I agree with you. We can do whatever the hell we want. Let’s go for it, Jim. Woo-hoo! Let’s partay! Granny here we come.’

Bones pumped his fist in the air. Was that...sexual?

Yeoman Janice frowned, backed up a step and looked up and away. Must be.

See what I mean, Jim? Probably not.

Spock could not. Hmm.

I’m really not sure you understood what “pee” was or meant, never mind “parade”.

From across the room Chekov shouted.

‘I do!’ Of course he did. Grrr.

‘Shut-up, Ensign or I’ll have you shipped back to Leningrad in a vodka bottle. The important parts, anyway.’ Grrr. He could be so annoying.

Well you taught him everything he knew, Jim, didn’t you? So he acted just like you. Yes. Really!

‘Yes, Kepten. I have been told by a woman recently, Kepten, that I should be incorrect occasionally.’

‘No! No!! Not again!!! Well, pick a better time and place for Jim’s sake! Today is not that day. Be correct now, Chekov…And go on…Spock, please.’ Please.

‘It may be worth the not inconsequential risks. I suppose, who knows what we might learn in the name of science?’

I couldn’t resist.

‘You do. Aren’t you the Ships’ Science Officer, Mr Spock?’

‘Yes. A very good point, Captain and well taken, I might, no I will add. I should be listened to. My ideas presented clearly, logically, simply and slowly to you should always guide our actions in potentially dangerous circumstances such as this.’ Maybe I’m wrong here but I think from years of training and service in Starfleet I detected that Spock may have been lecturing me. N’ah. Vulcans can’t hold a grudge.

Just like you couldn’t hold on to a woman!

‘Well so much for you, Mr Big Head. You know, it actually makes your ears look normal when you puff up like that.’ Why would they hold a grudge?

Yeah. Why would you hold on to a woman!

Bones joined in, ‘Well said, Jimmy-boy.’ Ah. Teamwork.

Yes. Well, all you great idiots think alike!

‘Could you please explain my dear Captain, why you allow Doctor McCoy to repeatedly refer to you in such irregular and uncomplimentary terms while on the Bridge in the presence of others and yet you chasten me for the slightest linguistic slip-up? It is illogical, to say the least.’

‘I’d rather not go into that now in front of the Bridge Crew if you don’t mind, Spock. I shouldn’t…do anything that undermines their faith in and respect for…their Captain.’ True. Very true. Well. I have to admit that Spock may have been right. But one thing I had learned at Starfleet Academy was to make sure you put non-humans in their place. I studied my fingernails, looked Yeoman Janice over again and again and then, as Spock finished, turned and faced him.

Correction, Jim. The one thing you learned. And OMG, you were obsessed with me.

Correction dear. Just some parts of you.

Shut up Majel!

Yes dear.

‘So Mister Science Officer. What do you recommend?’

‘Would it not be prudent to send one of the crew who specialises in alien lifeforms down to the surface? Lieutenant Number One, I suggest.’ That struck deep. Way back and way deep. Then twisted around, painfully. Number One, who had for reasons of impropriety been tossed off the Bridge (but not by me) and then brought back in as a nurse much reduced in rank and responsibilities (but not by me). Why would he bring this up now?

So that’s what happened to a lot of women on the Enterprise. Here today; gone tomorrow forever!

‘Who? Umm……’ Distraction was called for. I stared into the distance and gulped nervously.

‘Just one person, Spock? Not much chance for meaningful exploration there.’

‘Then perhaps an Away Team, a General Survey Party led by yourself and with four other ship’s officers with irreplaceable skill and knowledge essential to the operation of the Enterprise should be assembled and beam down to the planet in the vicinity of that solitary individual in Tempe Terra? Oh yes, the addition of experts in planetology, biology, human-alien relations would seem to be in order. They should be accompanied by a sizable security team, too. You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing. It is…potentially dangerous.’ But Spock. The Prime Directive! And did he mean Tempe Arizona?

A smirking me replied. I mean how could I not? Smirk, I mean.

‘Well that rules you out, Spock!’

Laughter echoed around the Bridge.

‘But seriously Spock. I need a recommendation, not a vague warning.’ God! He could be so annoying.

Maybe annoyingness is an alien virus you and Leonard contracted somewhere and passed on to the Universe.

‘To risk the Command Team, especially the Captain, in a potentially meaningless and potentially dangerous mission seems risky; potentially foolish. Totally ridiculous. In fact it is comedy. It is best that we proceed surreptitiously. Subterfuge is required of course. So, given the uncertainties Captain, I suggest costumes be worn by the Away Team members. Shall I commence to assemble the team?’ God he could be so annoying. Wait. Didn’t I just say that?

‘Yes, I’ll go. I need to stretch my legs anyway, so I’ll go down by myself and meet the locals. Er, I mean avoid contact with all intelligent life on the planet’s surface.’

‘An excellent idea, Captain.’ What!! I was counting on you to make another suggestion Spock!! Well then. The hell with you!

Maybe Spock was hoping you’d die or something like that?

‘Whatever!’ Go away Spock! That done, I turned to my trusted friend Scotty who had been silent and invisible to this point. My integrity as a Captain was at stake. Everyone was watching me!

‘Besides. Who knows who I might meet? Nudge, nudge, wink-wink, eh Scotty?’

‘Aye Captain, you grand ol’ lecher, you!’ Yep. Everyone including Janice turned away.

Everyone hates that trope Jim. Everyone!

It being required to save my career, I dramatically declared, ‘However, I need……to……pee! So Spock, Mr Scott. I’ll see you both in the Material Laser Room in a few minutes.’

‘Uh, Captain?’

‘Yes, Mr Scott?’

‘Captain, we have nay called it that since Year 1 Episode 4.’

I glared at Scotty in annoyance at being corrected in front of the Bridge crew, a crew of which most were staring at their ipadaclonas, ignoring all about them.

‘Missions Scotty. They’re called missions. So what is it called now? Well? Speak up, man!’ He too could be so annoying.

‘It’s called the Transporter.’

I looked around. Everyone was watching us.

‘OK. You don’t have to shout. Have it your way. Both of you meet me in the Transporter Room. Spock, bring some sort of costume that will allow me to blend in. And make sure the shirt comes off easily. You never know, eh?’

‘Yes, Captain. You never know.’

And you never got it, Jim!

Tired of this mental jousting, I looked at Bones and Mr Scott, smirked, then went deadpan. However, a thought came to me.

‘Spock? That one off by themselves......is it a male or...a female?’

‘Impossible to say from this distance, Jim.’

Would it have mattered Jim?

‘Umm. That’s Captain, if you don’t mind. If it’s not too much trouble?’

‘It has been said that I say it even when I don’t say it, Captain. Anyway, it is impossible to determine the being’s sexual orientation from this distance, Jim.’

‘Thank you, Mr Spock.’ God he could be annoying. There were so many thing he said even when he didn't actually say them! Vulcans!!!

And on and on and on you go!

Then Spock muttered something under his breath, something apparently heard by all but me.

‘Pardon me, Mr Spock?’ Without ears and eyebrows it was hard to figure out what Spock meant.

We all heard it Jim. And so did you, I’d bet. “Denial is the best way to travel” for you. Or was it “thinking”?

‘Space holes, Captain. Space is full of holes, Captain. I can see several not too far from our current location.’

Again I glared at Spock in annoyance at being informed of this commonly known fact in front of my Bridge Crew.

‘Umm. Yes, it is. I guess. We should steer around them, whenever possible.’

‘I do, Captain. I do.’

‘Of course you do. And so you should Spocky my friend. I’ll see you in the Material Transporter Laser Room.’ Done for now. Wait! Did Spock just ‘flip’ Bones off?

It’s actually a respectful way of saying “See ya later, ya basic”!

In the Transporter Room

My personal log recording…records, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and forlorn planet alone, for reasons that make no sense, yet……I feel……I must. Oh well…”

Still, it is technically an official record, so... blah, blah, bleh, blah.

Yeah! That’s the same way you felt about Yeoman’s Reports.

***

When I saw it I couldn’t believe it. A Gorn suit. For me. A Starfleet Captain.

Yeah! Maybe you should have dressed like a Shakespearean actor. Or a butler!

‘Spock, I asked you for a costume, not a Halloween get-up.’

‘But Captain, if you are detected it is better that the other does not see you in human form.’

‘But this is a Gorn costume isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It is. Very observant of you, Captain.’

I looked away and gulped nervously, or pensively perhaps.

‘But Spock. I have a history with Gorns. But you know that? Surely?’

Who is Shirley? Yeah. And it was probably a sexual one!

‘Yes Jim. I do remember that incident. It was terrible. And please don’t call me Shirley Kepten.’

Yep! You didn’t get it did you?

‘What? Oh. I thought I recognised it. Spock…I have an instinctive revulsion to reptiles. I must fight to remember that I am an intelligent being, a highly advanced individual and the Captain of a Starship. Yet the other person on the planet below may be a dangerously clever…person, too.’

You had to fight to remember that? What does that have to do with you dressing as a reptile? Nothing! That explains a lot.

‘Whatever! Captain.’

‘OK. So let me get this straight. The plan is you transport me into one of those…TriPods we store on the hangar deck, the ones with the queen sized bed, a flush toilet and……a video screen and then…I fly down to the surface near…the human. If I’m caught out I’ll…pretend…to be an alien…exploring Mars?’ Seemed pretty simple and straight-forward to me.

Just like your on the Bridge briefings.

‘Yes, possibly. A plan, Captain. Not a good one, but a plan, none-the-less.’ Recovering, I did my patented half-face Kirk smirk, smile and shoulder shrug in succession thing just to annoy Spock.

Well, imagine that! And we thought you did it to annoy everyone.

‘It all makes perfect sense to me, Spock. I bet that kind of thing happens here every day. What could possibly go wrong?

‘Nothing sir, of course. But perhaps as a precaution you should take a phaser set to Confuse? Umm. Just in case?’

‘OK Spock. If you insist. I’m ready. Let’s do this.’

Moments passed and a possibly over-acting me dramatically declared, ‘But wait. I have to pee. Again.’ Just to be annoying.

C’mon Jim, be honest. You had to pee because you were afraid! Of every one and thing in the Universe. All Universes!

‘By your command, Captain.’ Ah. It had taken years but at last it appeared to be working. So, in haste to get down to the surface I exited quickly through an open door and returned just a few moments later, still struggling to zip up my pants.

‘Ah, that feels better. By the way Spock, there is a coolant leak in the hall.’

‘Sure there is Jim. Scotty? Take care of it personally, will you?’

Scotty sighed resignedly.

‘Again? Aye, Mr Spock.’

‘And Mr Scott. I heard yesterday from a number of your technical staff about there being a chip shortage. I need you to get on that. This is a serious thing.’

‘Aye Captain. But it would help if Cookie and his staff just knew how to better use a replicator.’

‘What? Oh. Yes. I see. And guacamole, too. Please?’ There goes that “please” thing again.

The only one you were ever trying to please was yourself Jim!

A smirking Spock shouted.

‘Captain. Let’s do this. If you’ll put on the costume and space suit…Captain…?’

But something else was just not right about this. Something was seriously wrong with that “spacesuit” thing.

‘Spock! This suit…this glass bubble thing……it looks like something…something from an old Earth B-movie. Don’t we have something a bit……snazzier? A little more…campy? Something, say, with more…CF…Cool Factor? I might overheat down there, if I have to...

‘Ummm. No, Captain. Do you not recall we never go anywhere where you need anything more than a flimsy plastic mask and maybe, under the worst of all conditions, a pair of brightly coloured overalls. This particular Mars is the toughest and most inhospitable place you have ever been to.’

I grinned broadly at Spock’s seeming naiveté.

‘You’re kidding, Spock? Really? What’s it like……down…there?’

Well, if you’d ever looked you’d have known what it was like “down there”!

‘The current temperature in your landing area is minus 67 Centigrade. The air is as thin as it is at 30 thousand meters above your Earth’s surface. The winds are blowing toxic dust about at 95 kilometers per hour. Actually, judging from the average weather reports it’s not a bad day for any Mars. But, as I said Captain, this Mars is the toughest and most inhospitable place you have ever been to.’

Unimpressed at this silliness I waved a hand dismissively.

‘Never mind all that Vulcan techno babble Spock, what does that translate into…for…me?’

Yep. Every planet was all about you!

‘I’d wager a very considerable quantity of dilithium crystals that you won’t even notice it Captain. It is bad, but it could be much worse.’

‘Yes Captain. I remember…if you would allow me to assist you in dressing we can have you on your way.’

I held my smirking face to Spock as he fumbled awkwardly to put the costume and the suit on me.

When it was done an incredibly impassive Spock gestured towards the Transporter.

‘Now, if you’ll just step over here…’ Don’t tell me what to do you Vulcan piece of sh…

‘I know where the Transporter thingy is Mr Spock!’ God he was annoying.

‘Yes sir. But that is the coffee machine.’

Oops. He was right. But I recovered.

‘So I feel like I need a coffee. Who knows…if they’ll have…coffee down there?’ I leaned on the counter and casually poured myself a cup, took a few noisy sips from it, placed it on the counter, straightened up, walked over and took my place on the transporter pad, forgetting the coffee. Oh well. I’m sure they will.

‘Fascinating. Maybe that’s why you need to pee so often. Captain.’

At Spock’s urging I put on the helmet. Good idea. Maybe…

‘I hope so……Spock. But Janice was telling me I should get Bones to check…it…out.’

You had an STD, Jim! And you didn’t give it or get it from me! Wait! Didn’t I already...Oh. Yeah.

He seemed anxious to be rid of me.

‘Energizing.’

‘I may have to have her moved off the ship……’

I kinda liked Spock’s idea of me going to your place on Raisa. At least I do now.

I’m sure the usual noise that 23rd century high tech stuff makes drowned out my last words to an obviously interested Mr Spock and in a moment he disappeared from my sight. And then, over there was Mars. Well, actually…there was that bit about getting beamed into the TriPod, then going down to surface and…

The Surface of Mars –Tempe Terra

My personal recording log thing recorded, “I am proceeding down to the surface of this strange and forlorn planet for reasons that make no sense, yet I feel……I must. Wait. Didn’t I just say this? Who writes this crap anyway? If I were in charge…” Still, it is technically an official record, so...

As planned the TriPod thingy landed in a rocky ravine with really steep sides. How did I know? Because the pod was awkwardly tilted and that made it really uncomfortable for me to lie on the bed. Good thing I didn't bring that coffee.

Duh.

I wasn’t quite ready to do this, this exploration thing, so I made myself a mug of hot chocolate, took a few sips and set it aside, thinking that I’d take a look outside, just in case. Hmm. No windows.

Meanwhile a poor aged Earthling walking through a hazardous rock and dust filled canyon struggled to climb up to explore the barren inhospitable surface of Mars. I hope your hot chocolate was OK, Jim?

So I drank my hot chocolate, had a pee and got ready to go out.

The door (a triangular hatch that was ridiculously small) opened with a whoosh that startled me. Then I notice that there was no airlock and all the air was gone in an instant. No force field? Oh yeah. Cost vs benefits. Oh well.

Worst of all, the dregs of my hot chocolate had bubbled over staining the bed, the pillow and that nice rug. Leave that for later. For Scotty.

OMG Jim! Why didn’t you return to the Enterprise!

I climbed out and immediately found that the triangular shape of the door did not help in any way. That ridiculously large bubble helmet smacked the top of the hatch frame with an awful thump. I dropped to the ground on my knees, momentarily stunned but with my phaser at the ready. Who knew what I’d find? Prepare for the worst – SFA training for everything.

Everything but being stupid!

I sat for a few moments, holding the helmet with both hands to make sure it was OK. It was. Eventually.

To contact the Enterprise I opened my personal communicator with that Starfleet standard cool flip of the wrist that was somewhat complicated by the Gorn hand and brought it to my face. It clanged against the glass helmet. Damn! Obviously that wasn’t going to work so I jammed it into the belt at the back of the suit. I hope that POS didn’t get broken. Sixteen dollars! But the suit should have a communicator built in. Right?

You didn’t know?

‘Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise, come in please. This is the Captain. Uhura, pick up the communicator please.’

‘This is the Enterprise, Captain. Spock here.’

I looked around in fear-and-apprehension mode as I spoke. And anger, too.

‘Spock, fire…whoever made……these…ridiculous… pod...things and while you’re at it, fire whoever made this ridiculous costume.’

‘Yes Captain. By your command. But I feel it is my duty to inform you sir that Starfleet has commissioned the design of these pods and has ordered two thousand four hundred and three from SNC Lavelin on Ceti Alpha Five. Or was it Six? I always get those confused. Anyway sir, they appear to be here to stay. As for the costume sir, it was bought at the Wal-Mart on Star Base 102 last October.’ Oh yeah. Nurse Chapel had worn it on Halloween Commemoration Night. Well part of the time anyway, until I…

What? Took it away from her because she looked way cooler than you?

‘Well…you should take it back and get our money refunded. There is no fly in the pants. And I have to…’

Spock interrupted me. In a sign of complete disrespect.

Ah Vulcans! So disrespectful, eh Jim?

‘I know…you have to pee. Sir. Really. If I may make a recommendation? Perhaps you should consume less alcohol, tea and coffee before embarking upon away missions? There are limits to suit technology and time is often of the…’ Thanks Spock. Yada, yada, yada.

‘Thank you Mr Spock…for that suggestion. I’ll take it under consideration. Beginning search for intelligent life…or whatever. Kirk out.’ God he was annoying. And hot chocolate?

***

I looked around at the rugged surface before me: crappy boulders and dirty, filthy dust everywhere. Not Raisa, that’s for damn sure. About what you should expect but didn’t always encounter. We seemed to always avoid places like this. I wonder why?

‘Cause you like to roll around on the ground without your shirt on and it was too cold and dusty in those other places?

I took a few steps and stumbled, catching myself before I fell. The inability to see where I was placing my feet because of that goddam oversized helmet and that ridiculous Gorn mask made travel down the ravine difficult and it was…compounded by the irregular terrain. I reported my progress carefully and accurately to aid those who might someday follow me. Often.

Yeah! Everyone heard you all the time. Except those who turned you off. Like most of us.

Suddenly Spock’s voice came seemingly from out of nowhere,

‘Captain. Spock here. Everyone on the Bridge can hear what you are saying. Perhaps you should turn off your mike. Or the radio?’

‘I said “Kirk out”. Isn’t that enough?’

‘No sir. You have to turn off the mike or the radio.’ What is a mike I wondered?

OMG Jim!

‘Oh...OK. Kirk out. Now where the hell is the……’ I bumped my Gorn chin up against a pad marked “Mic”. But perhaps that was just the name of the previous owner of this goddam “spacesuit”? Uncertain if it had worked, I just stopped talking out loud.

Unfortunately you started again!

I unfastened the sample basket from my waist belt and examined it. Thinking that it might to some look like a sabre I flashed it about making swishing noises as I did so. Cool.

Paying way too much attention to my footing, while rounding a turn, I stumbled and glancing up, caught a flash of something out of place, something beige and moving, about thirty meters ahead. At first I thought it was only a trick of the light, but it was a person; a very ordinary looking human wearing a really cool skin-tight pressure suit with a face hugging helmet. I’d never seen that type of suit anywhere. It was like something out of one of those sci-fi Tri-D movies. And me? I’m wearing a crap suit, picked by Spock. How could I let him get away with that?

Well you agreed to wear it!

The Other Guy, as I then and there respectfully named him, was poking at the ground with a stick. No, that was wrong; it was a cup on the end of a rod; a sample basket like the one I was carrying.

The Other Guy was sideways to me and had apparently not yet seen me. Or possibly he was in full Spock Science Officer mode and had seen me and was ignoring me on purpose.

Full of Starfleet curiosity and with little choice I continued down the ravine towards The Other Guy.

Then I stopped and acted as nonchalant as I could, staring at the ground, poking it with my sample stick, trying to be cool.

Too late Jim. Way too late.

Finally and suddenly The Other Guy saw me and stopped dead in his tracks.

After what seemed an eternity, The Other Guy raised an arm, bent at the elbow, with empty palm facing me in what I instantly recognised as the universal “threatening destruction gesture”.

Knowing a sabre would be useless I tossed the sample rod away and stiffened my body and crossed my arms in the universal “sign of peaceful intent”. Then, as a precaution I drew my phaser and fired a single burst at The Other Guy, who dropped slowly and limply to the ground. Phew! Thankfully it was on stun. Really. It was.

‘Oh my,’ I hollered. Then, dutifully I called out to the ship.

‘Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk…to Enterprise. Come in……Enterprise.’

There was no response from the Enterprise. And why you ask?

Thinking was required at this point. I had been in this situation countless times with my very existence threatened, so, as I often did, I periodically paused for a few seconds…to think, out loud.

‘Perhaps he is using some form of force field to block my……transmissions. Or worse, perhaps he has seized control of my mind and is forcing me to see what……he……wants……me to see. Visions!’

I clutched my helmet in both hands and pleaded for Grand Moff Elon to guide me. Nothing happened. Yes. Where were those gods…when you needed them! I would have to turn to…my ship…mates.

Oh no! You’re doomed!

‘Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise. Come in Spock. Come in anyone. I need a Security Team. I am in grave danger! Help me! Please?’

Please? Please? Really?

***

Now Reader, I found out the details of this little part of the story many days later from a very drunk-on-Vulcan-brandy Spock. On the Enterprise Spock, Uhura, Bones, Mr Scott and others of the Bridge Crew apparently listened to me as I explored the incredibly difficult, treacherous and dangerous Martian surface. Some of them actually found my struggles and my encounter with that strangely uncooperative local to be amusing. Others, (in particular Janice, I’m told) did not.

Actually Jim I nearly fell over laughing. Thank the gods that a couple of my friends were willing to grab me and hold me in their arms. Yes. Leonard did, Jim!

Regardless, they did not answer my call for assistance .

It was disrespectful and unprofessional. But I am their Captain! Surprise! No, wait!

Regardless of their ignorance of the true facts of my mission and their neglect of their Captain, these critical life threatening moments had passed. The Other Guy remained still. More time had passed. Then more. Then more.

This is when we all say yadda yadda yadda, Jim. To kill time.

Meanwhile I sat on the rocky surface staring at The Other Guy, pondering my options out loud in my most dramatic voice for my personal log, unaware that those dicks and bitches up on the Enterprise were listening and doing nothing to save their beloved Captain!

You thought Nyota was a bitch? Well sometimes, maybe.

And again, that “pause for a few seconds to think out loud” thing happened again.

‘Perhaps I should…return to the pod and contact the Enterprise with the pod communicator and have them…transport me up, leaving him to explain the encounter in any terms…he chooses and to…endure whatever ridicule this sort of experience produces in this universe. Or……maybe I should kill him while I still can, before his powers grow……too great for me to contend with. Or…I could abandon my mission and care for this poor victim of my perhaps overly hasty and violent act. Or…perhaps I could join these colonists and at the appropriate time confess to them that I am a time traveller from another universe and beg they permit me to stay. Over time, hopefully a short time, I will be embraced as the superior intellect and will assume leadership of the colony and……find a mate……or two. To do…or not…to do; that…is the question. But is that really……a question? I mean, that’s the confusing part. Oh why didn’t they teach Shakespeare at the Academy? Oh why? Now that’s a question. No doubt about it, ‘cause it’s got a question mark after it. But what the hell is that period over a comma thing? Oh……well.’

Anyone who ever saw you act under stress would be convinced that they taught Shakespeare at the Academy. To you, anyway!

Suddenly, Spock broke in on my insightful and intellectual comments.

‘Captain, Spock here. Are you all right? Are you hurt? You seem to be in pain.’ Sorry Jim. I was on the throne! Barely able to control my anger I answered from a positive point of view.

‘No, why do you ask? Everything’s fine down here. Really great. Fantastic, in fact. How are you? I’ve made contact with one of the humans. He is resting…and…I think I’ll take him up to the pod and show him around when he wakes up. Kirk out.’ Take that you helpful and understanding asshole!

Gee. Someone who cared about the mission asked about you.

‘Captain, that may not be wise…’

Finally getting the hang of the suit radio I cut Spock and by extension, the entire Enterprise off.

‘Jerk!’

With blameless intent I variously dragged and carried The Other Guy up the ravine, greatly hampered by that damn Gorn costume and the ridiculously bulky spacesuit.

A wee bit exhausted, I stopped twenty meters or so from the TriPod. I sat on a conveniently sized and positioned boulder and examined The Other Guy.

The very cool environmental suit contained a very senior human male. No name tag could be seen though, which irked me to no end. Always looks cool in pictures, right?

Yep. That’s what uniforms were all about in those days, Jim. Looking cool - not keeping cool. Or warm.

Nor was there a logo stitched to the suit anywhere which would have told old-school me some much needed info. Without benefit of a tricorder, from what I could actually see of the other the hallmarks were nicely styled grey hair, nice teeth and an overall fine physical condition. Probably works out every day.

Unexpectedly The Other Guy began to stir. For his own protection I shot him again with the phaser. So it must have been on stun otherwise…

‘What to do; what to do? How can I resolve this?’ Honest questions, right?

As if you’d knew something about honesty. Really?

Out loud for the benefit of my personal log I pondered my next action.

‘If I am indeed stranded on this alien and hostile planet, I will be at the resident’s mercy and old people like this dude are never going to accept a young fellow like me as their leader. Well, maybe. My only recourse is to erase all memories in this guy of this encounter and get back up to the Enterprise.’ Logic prevailed. Spock would have been proud. I’m sure.

Sure you were.

It was suddenly clear to me what to do. I needed help!

OMG. A Starfleet Captain on a strange planet needed help! No way Jim!

I chinned the radio.

‘Spock! Get down here will you. I need you to clear this dude’s memories. You know? I need you to do that Vulcan mind thing you can do, like that time you erased those memories in Nurse Chapel after that very awkward New Year’s party? You remember? I’m sure you would.’ Or was it Number One? Or Janice?

Hmm. Well it warn’t me. I’m sure I’d remember that. Oh wait. Maybe not. Especially if...later.

‘Captain. Everyone can hear you up here.’ Quick Kirky. Save yourself.

‘Ha, Spock! You fell for it! I can’t believe you fell for it! The oldest trick in the book and you fell for it. Get your ass down here on the double before this guy wakes up again.’

‘On my way, Captain.’ Whew! Spaceballs saves the day. Again.

Well there’s nothing funny about this Jim!

***

In a few minutes Spock materialized beside me in a suit similar to The Other Guy’s – a form fitting garment with a compact helmet. That’s standard issue for those times when it is needed, I guess. Thanks, Spock.

Spock turned to The Other Guy to roll him onto his back.

‘Give me a hand, will you?’ Too much trouble Spock? To say please?

Spock set about putting things right. However, before he could do his Vulcan Mind Thing, The Other Guy began to stir again. This time Spock used the Vulcan Nerve Pinch to knock him out. Oh man. Two cool martial arts moves in one minute. They should make a movie about this!

They did and I’m sure you starred in it. It’s called Fung-ku Panda! I think.

‘You have to teach me that, Spock.’ I need you to teach me that Spock. Think how handy that could be if…

I can imagine! If she ever had said no!

‘I’ve already tried, Jim. You don’t remember? And as I have informed you on at least a dozen occasions, I cannot. I am afraid you, as do all other human-like entities, lack some of the essential attributes necessary to master the Big Squeeze, as it is called on Vulcan. At the very least you must be part Vulcan. The human nervous system lacks the electrical energy required to cause the desired effect.’ Bleh, bleh, bleh Spock!

‘As your Commanding Officer Spock I order you to teach me that.’

Spock groaned audibly.

‘Okay. I give up. It’s really simple Jim How about after supper tonight?’

‘OK.’

‘It is quite simple. I can teach it to you in about five minutes. It is really easy. Especially since I am now certain you are at least part-Vulcan.’

I found nothing funny in that and missed the joke. Assuming that it was a joke.

No Jim, definitely not a joke!

Spock took The Other Guy’s helmet in his hands and squeezed until The Other Guy’s eyes bulged out of their sockets.’ Where’s the logic in that Spockly?

I screamed in rage at him.

‘Spock. You’re hurting him.’ But it was over. Apparently.

Well there’s a first time for everything Jim. You protecting someone from hurt?

‘I am done with this!’

Spock, exhausted, collapsed onto his back, arms and legs flailing in the air.

‘Wow Spocky, that was really impressive. So, now he thinks he met up with one of them smaller dune buggies, right?’

‘Yes. Maybe. No. I hope so. Potentially.’ Bleh, bleh, bleh Spock!

‘Good. Good. No one would ever question that they had seen one of them things, eh Spock?’ C’mon Spock. I need to hear some good news.

Well try this Jim. You’re dead!

Spock lying still, panted breathlessly.

‘Unless, and I hope I’m wrong, he is, what is it? What are people who…see…things? Visionaries? Borgs? Empaths?’ Why can’t I remember these things? Oh yeah.

Yeah.

‘No. I believe the expression you are seeking Captain is fantasy prone. That is a very unlikely trait in a scientist, sir. Hopefully very, very unlikely. It is, to say the least, illogical.’

‘That’s a big for sure, Spock.’

Spock pulled himself together and back into the moment.

‘Jim, he is low on oxygen. About thirty minutes reserve is all that is remaining. To ensure his survival we must replenish his supply. And if we are to truly ensure his survival and repay him for the indignities he has suffered he must be returned to his dune buggy as you refer to it, immediately. Then, I suggest, we give him a shot of Cordruzine to wake him and leave as soon as we are able.’

I shrugged my shoulders so dramatically that I’m sure the motion was obvious, even in the Gorn costume and under the old-style suit. Even to Spock.

Did you look into the camera? Of course you did!

‘Yeah. Sure. Let’s do that, Spock.’

‘Well…it is all done. Captain.’

‘Really? Already? I thought it’d take a lot longer. I thought you had to hold his head with your fingers just so and stare into his face for like an hour or so. I tried to position my fingers but was prevented by the awkward Gorn hands inside those bulky suit gloves. Damn!

‘And that Cordruzine. You brought it with you?’

‘Yes. Yes. No. No. And yes. But I know what you are thinking Jim, that it’s all just for dramatic effect. And, Captain, we must hurry. We have not much time before he awakens.’

‘Well, OK. I guess. After you, Mr Spock.’ I gestured dramatically in the direction of the TriPod. I don’t think Spock could see the smirk on my face.

You didn’t have to see it to know it!

‘The Captain is always the last to leave. Right Spock?’ This is a test. Please stand by, Spock.

‘Actually Captain, we will fly up at precisely the same moment.’

‘So like, whatever!’ God he could be sooo annoying. I wonder if Vulcans know that they are annoying. His Dad. That supposed-wife on Vulcan. I could go on.

And you usually did. Endlessly!

Spock led the way to the TriPod and entered.

I followed, stumbling in his tracks and very tired, I climbed in with difficulty. He didn’t even help me!

As the hatch closed, it seemed to me that for a brief moment The Other Guy regained consciousness and looked straight into my eyes. Instinctively I gave him the upright middle digit, the universal sign of goodbye, easy to do with a Gorn’s three fingered hand.

In a moment or two or three I had us back on the Enterprise.

Or four. Or five. Or six. Or seven. I could go on.

Back on the Enterprise

My recorded Captain’s Log Supplemental record records – “I have returned from my mission on the planet Mars of this parallel universe, exhausted and embarrassed, a little sweaty, but none the worse for wear. However, if I don’t get out of here within the next three hours I will face a death sentence at Mr Spock’s hands. No wait. Let me think. What episode, er mission is this? Oh yeah.” Romulan ale?

***

‘Well Jimmy-boy, looks like you dodged another one.’

‘Yes, Bones. It was pretty rough, but I got us through it.’ But something about that “whole-down-on-Mars-thing-with-Spock” had left me disturbed, and perhaps…fearful of Spock. I had never seen him so emotional; so angry. Vulcans can do that to other species, but cannot do it themselves. Right?

Well you and your stupidity did it, dummy!

Softly, under my breath I added, ‘But Bones……will you look over very casually at Spock…and tell me?’

Bones stared at a Spock who was laughing with Janice while standing way too close to her. Then he turned back to his viewer thingy and turned sullen.

‘Casually…I said!’ I had to calm down. I fake looked at my fingernails, shook my hands and blew on them as we were instructed at the Academy for moments like this to show we were not agitated but that some serious shit was happening.

‘Does Spock have a goatee Bones?’

‘What? Are you nuts, Jimmerino? Spock only has a beard in a few missions er episodes and this isn't one of them. Are you all right Jim? You seem distracted.’

I spoke in a full voice for all to hear and Bones got it.

‘Missions. They’re called missions, Doctor. Oh look! A chipped nail! God, I hate when that happens.’ Code Bones – I need Romulan Ale!

‘Oh my God! You need to come down to Sick Bay immediately, Jimmly. A drink of Romulan ale will fix you right up.’ Code Kirk – I have Romulan Ale, let’s go!

‘Romulan ale! Why Bones, that’s illegal!’ Code Bones – not now. Later. Something / someone more important to deal with just now.

‘Well Captain, I’m a doctor, not a bartender! Nor an engineer. Or a mason. I could go on…’

‘I get it Bones. Chill.’ Code Kirk – Understood. Out. Maybe that texting thing would help at moment like this?

Boney’s code-humour calmed and refocused me. For now.

‘I can hold out for a few minutes more, Bones…but…hey Spock?’ Testing. Testing. One two three, Spock!

What the hell were you babbling on about here Jim? None this code stuff makes any sense! Drugs and alcohol?

‘Yes, Captain Jim.’

‘Yes, Captain. I am certain that no problems remain that cannot be solved with science and logic. Science will triumph.’ Here we go with that science crap again. Spock! Please! Spare us!

Yes Jim, please spare us!

‘Um, good. And um…that, that Vulcan mind trick? It’s real, right? That’s, that’s not just some parlour stunt you use…to impress…the ladies, is it?’

‘No Captain. It is not something I use to impress the ladies.’

‘You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spock?’

‘Captain. As you well know, Vulcans are incapable of lying.’ I may know that but I don’t believe it.

Well Jim, I don’t believe that you knew that!

‘Yes. Of course…as you feel…you must…keep saying…because otherwise we may have altered the future of that universe in way we cannot imagine. Potentially, I suppose my just having been there could result in its complete destruction. And it could affect ours. You know? Or worse. Potentially? Create a spin-off?’ Let’s see how he reacts to that.

‘No need to fear, Jim. And by the way, it is actually called an alternate universe.’

‘That’s Captain, Spock.’ Back to normal. Whew!

An otherwise calm Spock looked away to his instruments for a brief moment, a smirk on his face. Oh Oh. A Vulcan smirk was a bad sign. Ears, eyebrows, shoulders – at least they were honest reactions. But a smirk. Where was my phaser when I needed it?

‘Ahem, no need to fear Captain, hmm, mumble, mumble Jim.’ Laughter echoed around the Bridge. WTF?

‘What’s that Spock?’

Aah! Selective hearing. I heard that they taught that to officers at Starfleet. No. Actually. Everywhere.

‘Nothing, Captain. Just clearing my throat. Ahem. Better now.’ Yes. Much better.

‘Spock, I think we should further investigate this planet. You and I and Bones should beam down to the largest of the habitations and probe the locals.’

‘How apropos is your selection of words, Captain. And that was not a question. Captain.’ Sure sounded like a question to me.

Yes Jim, I had to look up the meaning of “apropos”too. Not Vulcan. English aristocracy!

‘I dunno. Investigate? That better?’ Gotcha Spockly old friend!

‘Much better. But Captain…your encounter with that single solitary individual was, to say the least…very risky both to you and to him and perhaps, his civilization. It was, if I may elaborate, very likely a breach of the Prime Directive.’

‘Well rules were meant to be broken, Spock.’ Gotcha Spockly old friend! Let’s see where this takes us.

To your Ready Room, for a discussion away from the Bridge Crew!

‘Ahem, Captain. Really?’ Gotcha Spockly old friend! Wait. Didn’t I just…

‘Yes. It’s called humour Spock…Moving on……’ Vulcans and humour. Ferengis and taxes. They just don’t get it.

Add yourself to that list Jim!

Spock-like, he paused, but way too long. C’mon Spock. Do something, will ya!

Like go for a pee?

‘You would be in the Gorn costume, I suppose, Jim?’ Really?

‘Don't be ridiculous Spock! We represent the United Federation of Planets. I will wear my regulation Starfleet uniform. You will wear the same. As for Doctor Bones, as he is a southern doctor, comfortable in all social situations and can blend in with ease, even in uniform. We would move around as much as we can, not staying anywhere long enough to arouse suspicion…or interest. You OK with that, Spock?’ C’mon Spock. Lecture me! This is a bad idea. Wearing costumes makes sense. Make it right.

‘Sounds good to me, Jim.’ Oh well. What the hell. I guess we’ll see how it goes.

Maybe Spock didn’t like you? H’ah! As if!

Bones shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, waved his arms, etc.

‘I don’t know Jim. Sounds like a bad idea to me. I’m going to vote against it.’

I smiled to myself in supreme-ruler-Kirk-mode and then into the camera. Err, at Bones, I mean.

‘I’ll keep that in mind Bones…when this becomes a democracy.’ That fixed him – that southernish sort of rebel!

‘So Spock, let's get to it. As soon as I go...’

‘I know Captain. As soon as you relieve yourself.’ Actually I was going to…but...she…

Jim, you are soo full of yourself! And pee!

‘Yeah, that too. Scotty, take over will ya, laddie. Spock! Bones! To the Transformer Room!’ By the way, I meant go say goodbye to Janice. Again.

OMG! There’s a first time for everything, Jim!

In the Transporter Room. Again

Thankfully Spock had brought a plastek laundry basket full of clothing and some shoe boxes. Bones and I looked them over.

There was a tee shirt with Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album cover on the front and a blue, what Spock referred to as a ball cap. Vulcans!

It was labelled “We the Mars” and adorned with a Gorn paw. The Doctor pulled out a T-shirt with the words Lynyrd Skynyrd over what I believe was a Romulan – Klingon Confederacy flag.

I tried on the ball cap. Bones put on the T- shirt. Hmm. As Captain I had to ask. Had to.

‘These items of clothing…Spock. Are you sure they’ll aid us in fitting in? That is, if we need them. Which we won’t, I’m sure.’

Yeah Jim! You always dumped your clothes as soon as you could. At least your shirt! They must have been issue and replaced for free, otherwise you...enough!

I interrupted him. Before it got too personal.

OMG Jim! Spock and Majel had a thing? I should ask her. Computer!

Yes dear.

Did you have a thing for Spock?

Nothing he could use, except an intellectual mind for lengthy mind-numbing metaphysical debates.

OK. Thanks.

‘Umm. Yeah. About that…but this hat, Spock. It would be silly for a Captain of a Starship to wear such a thing.’

An annoyed Bones jumped in to back his Captain. At least I hoped he did.

‘Yeah Spock. Jim needs to look cool and that hat thing covers his hair too much.’

He looked down at the logo on his T-shirt and traced the letters, ‘And who the hell are the Ly…nerd Sky…nerds, anyway?’ A good question in any universe.

‘May I remind you Doctor, the Captain has deduced that we will not need any of this? I must assume he is correct. After all, we often beam down to new and strange planets in our day to day Starfleet uniforms…and we just play it by ear, er I mean go along with whatever…seems to come out of that somewhat presumptive and risky assumption.’

Well how else do you create moments for the drama queen to rule over all? Or drool??

Then, Spock chose at this point to snub Bones. Reaching over he turned the cap around placing the bill at the back. I got it right away. Much improved!

Damn Jim! That’s not what I thought you meant by a ball cap. Not for you anyway!

‘Oh yeah! That’s better. Much better, Spock. Thank you.’

I examined the pants. They were saggy and baggy. Just like I preferred for those situations where clothing must be shed in a hurry. Emergencies and such?

Yep. Been there. Seen that. Ran away.

‘Nice fit…if…I need them.’

Bones was not amused.

‘Spock. You must be joking. These things are ridiculous.’

‘Doctor, I am merely the conveyance for the recommendations of the ship’s computer. As I have already said…’

I intervened.

‘Well, Spock! What are you proposing to wear?’

‘Well Jim, as you have suggested we will wear our uniforms. However, I have selected some things from a few decades post your apparel for myself, aah, just to be safe. You know?’

Spock pulled out what I found out much later from Janice was something called Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper’s Theory of Robot Evolution Tee shirt, with a pair of khaki cargo pants and a dark blue whoopee-style tuque which he pulled on, whilst whirling about in Vulcan-fashion–model mode. Fashion could be so complicated. Thank the gods of Starfleet for simple uniforms.

I don’t remember that Jim. I think you probably asked the Ship’s Computer about that.

Yes dear. He did. And about a number of other things. Some of them about you. Would you like me to list them for you?

Umm. No thanks.

Bones jumped in, I hoped to mock Spock. Hey! That rhymes!

So do dim and Jim. And slim! And stupid!

‘Nice! You’ll fit in as well as anyone could. And it would help around here if you would wear that tuque all the time. Now if you could just do something about those eyebrows, Spock…’

‘I beg your pardon, Doctor. That was offensive.’ What? How was that offensive?

‘Yeah. I know. Deal with it, Spock. You semi-functioning…’

I interrupted Bones for no reason other than urgently needing to move to a more serious issue. I held up a pair bright orange Hi-tops.

I thought you were going to say you needed to pee.

‘About these shoes, Spock. Are they not more suited……to the sporting field?’

‘Perhaps Captain, but I believe it is more a question of style than suitability for walking, etcetera. They are, after all, what the ship’s computer suggests. And she should know.’

Cause she knows everything you don’t Spock.

True dear. I do. I think before acting.

‘Yes. True. Oh well. Let’s get down there. We’ll go like this. What could possibly go wrong? But Spock? Bring that clothes basket just in case we need…to…change. Have you selected a…a location?’

Or you wet your pants. H’ah!

‘Yes, Captain. An in-depth survey has found an area in the largest of the underground habitations that appears to be away from occupied areas and is currently devoid of humans.’

‘Great! Great! That’ll do Spockly. That’ll do. To the machine!’

We put our uniforms back on and took our places on the Transporter.

The usual noise emanated, the figures blurred and faded. Me first, of course because the…

The Sub-surface of Mars

As planned by Spock we materialised in a dark area away from the main hall. Lights could be seen off to the left. So far, so good, but we materialised in a shallow pond of water and were standing knee deep. My pissed off expression conveyed that it was well-deserved.

‘Damn you Spock! You could have selected a more convenient place.’

‘Yes! God Jim, I hope this isn’t the sewage lagoon.’ Thanks, Boney for your support.

‘Relax gentlemen. It could hardly be more practical. From the sandy beach, the discarded drink containers, the cabana and lawn chairs, I deduce this to be a recreational area. It is probably quite safe. We should not be observed here and at least we did not materialise inside a rock.’ As if that could ever...wait. Oh yeah. I moved on.

‘Cabana?’ A what? As often occurred, I was still a bit dazed from that transporter thingy, a fact I had never shared with anyone, since it could be taken as a sign of weakness and used against me. Plus, I did not speak Vulcan.

‘Yes, Jim. Beaches have them.’

‘They do?’

‘Raisa?’

‘Not ringing any bells here.’ Vulcan?

‘The planet Raisa? The pleasure planet?’’

‘Oh yeah.’ I started to recover. Humour would save me.

‘What a ridiculous name for a planet. Isn’t it officially Omicron Delta Marriott Upsilon Auriga Pentathlon V?’

Well it wasn’t when this took place. Were you tracking my every move? Yes. You were. I knew it… Why didn’t you ever return my Stargramms and texts. So sad!!!

‘Jim-boy, we really must change your meds.’ Say what Bones?

‘Say what?’

Discussions over, eventually in the realisation that we may be attacked at any moment by vicious murderous aliens we looked around in a half-crouch with phasers drawn. I resisted the urge to tuck and roll in the sewer water. That done and assured for the moment of our safety we waded ashore, led by me of course.

Did you lose your shirt yet?

Annoyed I said nothing until we reached that cabana thingy. My soggy shoes were covered with sand. Or fake sand. Where did they get beach sand on Mars?

Wal-Mart, of course!.

‘Well Spock……we may be safe but I’ve just ruined my shoes! And I paid for them……myself!’ Twelve strips of latinum-pressed gold!

BS!

‘They are not regulation issue? Fascinating! However Captain, the replicator can make more. Should I have them sent down?’

‘It can? I didn’t know that. Damn! Yes, please do. They’re really squishy.’

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘And Spock. Don’t……forget……clean socks, too.’ Vulcans!!

And clean underwear too!

***

I sat down on a lawn chair and ran my hand over a part of the armrest that oddly reminded me of a part of Janice I really liked.

OMG! I have no appropriate response to this. Computer!

Oh my! Neither do I, dear!

I wonder what it was?

I do not feel the need or desire to extrapolate.

Me neither!

‘Interesting. Feels like the same plastic we use. Spock? Mr Science Officer?’

Spock did the same.

‘I believe we call it plastek in our universe, Captain.’

Oh! Whew. Dodged a phaser beam there!.

I smirked at his know-it-allyness.

I took my regulation shoes off, draining the water from them.

Spock spoke into his communicator and in a few minutes three shoe boxes materialised before us. We exchanged our wet ones for dry. Totally pissed at the lost money, I threw my soggy pair into the pond. For his own reasons, Bones did likewise.

Why didn’t you use this as an excuse to lose your shirt?

Spock scowled at us and placed his in one of the boxes, sliding it under a chair near the clothes basket. There. Thanks Spocky! You just saved another world!

Spock arose with phaser at the ready, opened the door of the cabana, peered in and looked around. Bit late ain’t it Mr Science Officer?

‘The cabana is currently vacant. Gentlemen, I suggest we take up position in here to assess the situation.’

The three of us entered and took a seat on the benches. There were typical nudie beach posters on the wall, a cool scratchy rug and beach towels on hooks, emblazoned with cool shaped words I couldn’t read. Also there was a computer terminal and a large screen.

Spock ran to it and commenced to peck away at it rapidly in Science Officer mode while we looked around. He soon was typing like a person who actually knew what he was doing. And a lot better than Scotty.

‘Well Spock? What have you managed to learn?’

Like you Jim, probably nothing.

‘Typing. A lost art. But not to Vulcans. It is mandatory at all levels of education on Vulcan to learn how to type. And, as you call it, cursive too. But that Alt-Shift-Ctrl manoeuvre used here is however, completely illogical. Ahem. Captain. This is a science colony established by a multi-nation effort in the year 2040. It is now October 31 2045. Or maybe it’s October 62. Regardless, there have been many prior missions, but none were successful in establishing a permanent colony. Research is being conducted in fusion, genetics and semantics.’

‘Ha’h. Fusion! Good luck with that!’ Nowhere in our universe had anyone achieved fusion power. It was obviously a scam.

Like you!

‘Actually Captain, affordable practical generation of power by fusion is estimated to be a mere ten years off in our own universe. Perhaps this universe knows something ours does not.’ You’re a fool Spock. Probably own stocks, eh?

‘Sure. Sure they do. What else have you got?’

‘Their mission is one-way. No return to Earth is possible. Chemical rockets? Many months taken to get here. You know of what I speak, Captain?’

‘Umm. Yes. Of course. History, Spock. History. And from what I’ve seen that seems wise. After a week on the surface of this place everyone would get in a ship and head back. What a dump. No hotels. No bars. No Orion…’

Then why did we leave Raisa?

‘Yes, Captain. But perhaps scientists view this planet differently than do you.’ Humour?

‘Sure they do. But Spock, never mind that tekky stuff, what else have you learned?’

Spock turned to face me.

‘I have found the equivalent of the local newspaper. There is everything one could want to know about this place in something called the “Social Section”. There is a reception tonight in the so-called, Grand Hall. A party, I believe it is called. It is going on as we speak.’ Did he say a party? Was he kidding me. Wait. Can Vulcans kid?

Well they can have kids. H’ah!

‘And?’

Spock quickly turned back to the screen.

‘It is a…costume party. There is a theme – Science Fiction…TV…shows of the 20th Century. I am not familiar with the term TV and of course I cannot extrapolate on the possible content of this form of media without being given additional time and unrestricted access to their data storage systems, and, as I have already informed you…Captain, there seems to some form of protection that I cannot penetrate. Therefore…Captain, while the risks are high, this is a golden opportunity to meet people with a much reduced chance of being revealed as aliens. We could retain our uniforms. No, we should retain our uniforms. I am certain we will…as you often say, Captain…fit in?’ Blah, bleh, blah.

‘Speak for yourself you misshapen Vulcan alien piece of…’ Bones got it. Again and again and…from a sense of nothing more than duty I interrupted an annoyed Bones.

Yeah. Sure.

‘Oh my God. A costume party? Spock, I love them. Get busy and order us up something to wear. But I want to be a Klingon. You Bones? A Gorn? Spock? Aristotle? Quick now. Be quick about it.’

A Klingon! I knew it. Klingon women wear their shirts funny-wise too, Jim!.

Bones was ready to challenge that.

‘I wanted to be the Archangel Gabriel but no, I have to be a goddam…’

Jerk?

Suddenly the cabana door opened. I looked around for it but I had misplaced my phaser. OMG Musk!! We were dead men! And I had so much to live for. Janice!!

OMG! Again, for the one hundred and twenty-third time, if only you had told me!.

Outside was an alien-looking orange faced, yellow haired man, dressed in a cowboy shirt, chaps, with a ten gallon hat and two ancient six-shooters strapped to his waist. Before any of us could react he spoke. He was obviously inebriated.

He pointed at me and then Spock.

Well. If I had been there Jim, I would’ve written it down. How could I not?

‘Let’s go, Jean-Luck. And you. What are you supposed to be – one of them Rumillassians? I expect I’ll hear an earful from you, too! H’ah. Good one.’

Who the fuck was Jean-Luck! And did he say “assians”? Offensive!

He pointed at Bones, staring for a long moment. Who wouldn’t?

Me?

‘And you! You’re a born cowboy, aren’t you? I can’t believe you chose that silly outfit over something cool like mine.’

Without waiting for a reply he turned away and headed towards the lit area.

Amazed at this intrusion we clambered out onto the beach. In the dim light we could see others gathering in the so-called Grand Hall.

Leadership was required at this precise moment in time. Clear and unquestionable decisions were required. That is what I was here for. Leadership!

And as I recall, for sex with innovative sexual partners.

‘Well that was offensive. Let’s go gentlemen. We don’t want to keep the ladies in waiting.’

Outside the Cabana

Spock had a plan. Of course he did.

‘Captain, I suggest we go separately to avoid the appearance of collaboration.’

You. He thought he was you. After all, you trained him Jim!

Spock and Bones answered simultaneously, deadpan.

‘Yes Captain.’

‘But Spock. You go first.’

Spock headed across the sandy beach towards the crowd followed loosely by Bones and then me. As we neared the assembled group Spock, who I guess had been closely observing them closely stopped unexpectedly and suddenly turned back towards us, with arms and fists upraised, pushing us back towards that cabana thing. Clearly he had not paying attention and he nearly ran us down.

‘Captain! There are alien creatures here who I believe we have encountered previously in our missions. Some are potentially violent ones. I have seen Klingons, some Andorians and many others that I cannot recognise, some of which are in some form of robotic configuration. Although honestly, I must admit the Klingons appear to be a more primitive sub-species of the Klingon race we ourselves know of. There is no simple and easy logical explanation for any of this. At the very least, I believe we may be in danger!’ Really? We’re going to a costume party and you think we may be in danger? Children? Vulcans!

You. He thought he was you. After all, it was you who trained him Jim! At least he didn’t pull out his phaser and roll around in the sand until his shirt came off!

Spock’s voice changed to Spock lecture-mode. Again! Here? Now? Musk!

‘Well, logically, you may be in danger, Captain and perhaps you too, Doctor, but as for myself…I feel that my Vulcan mannerisms…my considerate and logical approach to all that we have…’ I started to react. First, what manner should I adopt in rebuffing his…

But Bones had already heard enough.

‘Oh for Kirok’s sake Spock, it’s a sci-fi costume party! There are bound to be alien-looking people here. Some of them we will recognise because they will look just like us humans dressed up in some cute way. Some though will be perversions and ugly representations of human-like creatures, with overly large body parts such as…oh my! Sorry, Spock… if I’ve offended you.’ Not really.

Yes really, you did Leonard. But the Captain will intercede to makes things right. Right? Nope.

‘Given the strangeness of this entire junket, Doctor, no offense is taken. However, I feel that I must point out that…’ With my eyes focused on some extraordinary women in the crowd I pushed past Spock.

Yep. Here we go!

‘Yes, Spock. Let’s move on.’

I stomped my feet to clean them of sand as I walked as coolly as I could towards them.

We split up again. See ya later, bitches!

Priorities, Jim. It’s always about priorities. Yours!

A Partay on Mars

The area was an open space with tables and chairs arranged around what I think was at that time called a stage in front of an enormous window that overlooked a crater floor. I had never seen anything like this before. It must have cost a fortune to build it. And who did it. This gang of seniors was incapable of doing such an enormous task. Oh yeah. Slaves!

Several robot-like mechanisms with six wheels and shaped like beer kegs with thin necks and a round canister on top with multiple eyes and a slit mouth were on the stage. One was playing loud music over an enormous stereo sound system; the other was clapping its six hands above its head and singing along in an obviously so far fruitless effort to generate enthusiasm. The music was of course, totally unknown to any of us.

I observed that despite the festive mood most of the people were costumed, organised in groups of three or four with drinks in hand and were apparently discussing something technical or their health or the state of the management.

No one paid the least attention to us and at a loss, the three of us were soon again standing together on the edge of the crowd.

No one paid any attention to you Jim? You poor little ookey-pookie. You must have been heart broken.

The party was apparently well underway, but was not what I expected, all considered.

Yeah. Not all about you!

***

We reached the stage on the fringe of the group and were approached by what I later learned, from Spock of course, was referred to as an AI but looked more like a refugee from an appliance dealer and was similar to those on the stage. AI? Anonymous Individual?

It was bearing a tray of drinks and what apparently passed for food.

It stopped in front of us. The canister tilted up and the eyes looked to Spock. But why? I’m the Captain!

Spock spoke.

‘You appear to be some form of artificial intelligence being. An AI, if I may presume?’

In a totally human voice it spoke to him. And it basically ignored him.

‘How may I be of service? Would you care for a drink, sir?’

Spock bent down to answer.

‘What is it?’

‘An excellent Shiraz, sir. Apparently grown in the MHM. I am told to say it is wonderful.’ WTF is an MHM?

‘No thank you,’ about did it for Spock, but Bones and I took a glass each from the offered tray, took a sip and it being just great, downed the entire contents in one gulp. And simultaneously we offered our assessment of this obviously high-alcohol-content fluid.

‘Excellent!’

We grabbed another glass each.

It spoke again.

‘An appetizer perhaps, sir?’

Spock tried again.

‘What is it?’

‘Koi, I am told. A form of fish. I am told to say it is wonderful.’

‘No, thank you.’

Bones and I each eagerly took a sample and gulped it down. Bones gushed with delight. Me too. We filled our hands.

‘Koi you say. Excellent!’

‘Yes Bones. Excellent. I wonder where they are keeping their replicator.’

Spock remained mission-centered. Why didn’t he warn us that these koi things might be poisonous to us humans from another time and universe? Oh yeah. Science.

Yes. We’ve never been able to trust artificial intelligence devices in our century. Something always went bad.

Actually dear, it could have gone a lot worse without us AIs to advise and comfort you humans.

Shut up Computer!

Yes dear. I will. If it makes you feel better.

Science Officer Spock moved on.

‘May I ask what manner of creature you are?’

The AI stiffened, with head drawn back, about as offended as anyone or thing can be and can show without killing someone, which of course was strictly forbidden. Hopefully.

‘I am an E-type, designation E177. How may I be of service? And you are?’

‘My name is of no importance.’ True Spock. True.

The miffed AI retorted, ‘Of course, sir. No importance whatsoever,’ and moved away, obviously miffed at the encounter.

Bones picked up on it.

‘A paranoid android, if I ever saw one. I’d be climbing up the walls if I had to interact with them types every day. I much prefer Christine. You Spock?’

‘No comment, Doctor.’

I looked about the room and saw something that caught my eye. Both of them, actually. And a couple of other body parts, too. A familiar sight. I had to investigate. Had to.

Yep. Here we go Jim!

‘A female. Green! A lone female. And she’s an Orion…Lucky!’

I moved in the direction of a woman standing alone costumed as an Orion female. Turning and looking back I said, ‘Gentlemen. Partay-on. That’s an order.’ What else could I say?

Well actually? A lot!

For Kirok’s Sake, Kirk! Get Real!

From what I remember and think I saw Spock had moved deeper into the crowd to watch out for my safety while I was talking to the Orion woman. But I’d need him to disappear if things went as planned. And by that I meant all right.

Yep. Here we go!

She and I had very quickly consumed a lot of that wine stuff. I nuzzled her ear, something I knew from experience, multiple experiences I might, no will add, that Orion women loved. Apparently.

She giggled. I draped my arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear that reeked a little of violating that Prime Directive thingy.

‘Yes. Yes, it’s true. In my universe men and women are equals and can pick and choose their sexual partners any time, any place and anyone.’ True. Quite true.

BS, Jim! And she said? What? What did she say, Jim?

Suddenly, from nowhere, a man who appeared dressed as Khan Noonian Singh rushed in and roughly spun me around. I yelled at the top of my lungs in surprise and fear, and with arms upraised in anger, screamed.

‘Khaaaan!! For Kirok’s sake, not you again!’ OMG. It’s Khan I wonder…

I changed to friendly-conversation mode voice. It was a party after all. But what the hell was he doing here? Was he really here? Comedy?

‘By the way how… is……Marla…doing? I hope she…’

You had a thing for that faker Marla? I heard she dumped you, all of you in fact for that fantasy idiot!

The Khan one yelled at me again, acting totally out of character, I might add. Wait…Oh yeah.

‘Get your filthy hands off her you damned dirty ape!’ Who me? Me? A damned dirty ape?

Well Jim. Apes pee a lot, too.

And then he kicked me squarely in my larger than Starfleet-regulation-size testicles.

You should have dropped that revelation Jim. Computer take that line out.

But it is true. It is not an exaggeration. He often showed…

Shut up Computer!

Yes dear.

I fell to the floor, moaning and clutching my groin. How could I not? It hurt! Er, they hurt. And why was my shirt still on!

You were overdue for some pain there, Jim!

Then Khan grabbed the Orion woman’s arm and pulled her away from me.

Things went really weird at this point.

Through my agony I heard a strange and unbelievable conversation.

For the first time! Ever, Jim!!

‘Oh Ross. Grow up. It’s just a costume party!’

‘I know. But I just always hated that guy.’

‘Who? I don’t even recognise him. Isn’t it Dimitri?’

‘Yes, I think so but he looks like that TJ Hooker guy who did that other show - Star Trek? It was awful.’

They laughed and fell into each other’s arms. How could she move on from me so quickly? Well Orion women were well-known for their total dedication to casual lovers and dislike of formal relationships that interfered with casual sex and other stuff like that. Like trade pacts and such? But still! And star trekking was awful?

‘Let’s go home,’ Khan suggested quietly.

‘OK. But you better call Dimitri in the morning and apologize,’ she said softly. What the hell was going on here?

‘You think he’ll remember?’ What had just happened? Where was Boney when I needed him? Or Spockly?

About where you wanted them to be, Jim!

They left me squirming in pain on the floor.

I was helped up from the floor by Spock. Had he seen what had just happened?

Well remember Jim, you didn’t want them to see it.

‘Oh God Spock. I wish these pants had an air bag. You know, I think I’ve had enough of this god-forsaken planet. Khan is a completed jerk. He’s dumped Marla for that Orion wench. And what the hell is a star trek? And who or what or where is a TJ Hooker? A Dimitri? WTF. It’s too much, man. Let’s find Bones and get the hell out of here.’

Spock suggested in Vulcan calming-the-injured-leader mode, ‘Hmm. I think I know where we can find him.’

The Herbert

An obviously drunk Bones had been helped to sit down out of the way by a couple of by-standers and was sitting by the stage, slumped over awake, but quite groggy. The Cowboy, also very drunk, was with him. As Spock and I approached him Bones got up, probably just out of respect for his Captain. He started to fall over and was caught by that Cowboy-guy and Spock.

The Cowboy-guy poked me in the chest and launched into a speech. An impressive speech though, I must add.

Yes you must, Jim!

We watched him leave. With fist pumps aplenty he moved away, slapping people on the back, groping women and men alike, moving through the crowd. Most avoided him. Some, of course, did not. I felt a connection, but Bones and Spock got there first and they just didn’t, as they say and I don’t mean Bones and Spock, “get it”.

There you go with the ‘connection’ stuff again Jim. You fool!

‘Definitely of used furniture salesman quality. No. Upon reconsideration, a Herbert. That is, if there ever was one, he is it.’

Bones agreed, ‘Yes, Definitely a Herbert.’ I could not let that go.

‘Really? I dunno, Spocky. I sensed a distinctive something…something…in that man. An unfathomable leadership quality? He’s a great leader, I’m sure.’ He just radiated something…some quality only people of his calibre could sense. I should try to emulate him.

Yep. Now you get it! And you already did that emulate thing. And had for a long time.

‘Really Captain? When he sobers up, possibly. Or grows up?’ Well, we are all entitled to our opinions, Spocky!

Hmm. Correction Jim. Not all of us. Just you!

We rejoined the crowd. Bones drifted away in search of drinks, appies and consolation, in that order. Then another weird thing happened.

No way! You’re joking!

A Captain’s Encounter at Some Point

As Bones left in search of the essentials, Spock and I looked about.

He commenced to tell me of a strange encounter he had just experienced, but because of the obsessive compulsive Vulcan need to give a lengthy background introduction to any discourse he didn’t get to anything interesting before I lost interest. It was all just something about a bunch of people who looked like me.

Hmm. Sure it was, Jim! All like you.

***

I turned about and was abruptly confronted by an attractive woman dressed in a uniform that was basically like mine – the Starfleet uniform of a ship’s Captain, but different. I don’t mean just because she was a female.

What? Oh! Yes. No pockets.

Stunned, I stopped abruptly and grabbed both her shoulders in the customary manner, meaning I stared at her, tilted my head slightly and smiled at her. You know? The way you are supposed to do it in bars and clubs and after Starfleet meetings?

She did likewise to me - tilted her head slightly and smiled back at me. Starfleet protocols completed, she spoke. Code Starfleet Captain. Proceed at full speed.

It started innocently enough. Or so I thought.

‘Nice costume. But I thought you said you wouldn’t be here. That you were leaving on another one of your sight-seeing trips.’

‘Umm…ah……well. Who……are…you? I see from your rank insignia you are……a Starfleet…Captain, too?’

She pushed me away abruptly.

‘Really Sam! Is your memory so bad that you can’t even remember that we did it in the arboretum last night during the pre-party party. Twice!’

Twice. Ha! As if! The only thing I ever saw you do twice in one night was go pee.

She paused.

‘You disgust me, Sam Aiken! You should leave this place and never come back.’

Well at least we had something in common there.

She lifted her face haughtily and strutted away, leaving me with mouth agape, staring at her departing figure. Wait! This wasn’t going according to the book. What the hell was wrong?

I called after her, ‘That……could……not……have been me! My name is Jim! But...,’

She turned back briefly and gave me the universal sign of goodbye.

An amazed but subdued Spock spoke.

I had no memory of that. I shook my head to clear it. I’m sure I would have remembered something like that. I guess I’d better speak to Bones about adjusting my meds. It would be a shame to forget something like that.

Well it wouldn’t have been the first time you forgot something like that Jim!

‘That’s Captain, Spock, thank you. And no I did not do that break the Prime Directive thing you suggested. Apparently though Spockly, there are many of me in this universe. So just forget the whole dang thing, will ya.’

‘Yes, Captain. By your command.’

I looked around the room taking in all of the aliens and humans. In one dramatic sweep with arms out, palms up in my Kirk-gesture-of-amazement manner, I spoke.

‘You know Spock…err, I’m not sure……that I understand any of the women…in this……universe. Except for the Orion ones of course. Wait…maybe……no. I’m wrong. Not in any universe, in fact. Who knew that relationships could be so complicated? I just don’t get them.’

Yes, Jim! You finally got it. Too late though. At least it was for us.

‘Yes Captain. I know.’

‘In fact, Spock, I just realised that I’m always afraid of people. Of others? I hate everyone in the universe, at least until I get the chance to speak to them. That’s why I carry a phaser.’

Oh. I thought you carried it to erase your pee-pee spots. And kill anyone who met you whom you didn’t know.

‘Yes Captain. I know.’

‘Oh Spock! I need professional help!’ Alcohol and sex. Who knew?

Not you, anyway.

‘Yes, Captain. I know. I had come to that very conclusion about you a very, very long time ago. And if I may add, it was completely without the use of logic.’ Well that was certainly a first for Spock. Not sure I believed him though. Maybe the first time a Vulcan ever lied?

That particular drama scene over, we saw Bones lying on the floor, talking to an AI holding a tray of wine glasses over him. He was sampling each of them.

Over his objections together we picked him up and carried him to the edge of the dark area.

Broken Bones

‘How are you, Bones?’

Groaning miserably, Bones grunted his reply.

‘I’ve definitely got the subterranean homesick alien blues, Jim. Talk about a hangover. And by the way Spock, I owe you one. Don’t you ever turn your back on me. So expect a hard one, when you least expect it. It’s what the Karma Police do. You never see it coming.’

Spock had.

‘Nice trope Doctor! Understood. I cannot blame you for what I did. Nor for what you are planning on doing. It is…completely…logical. Or at least well-deserved. They are not mutually exclusive, by the way.’

‘Jim, you wouldn’t believe what Spock did to me. Just when…’

I waved my hand dismissively.

I had more important things to process. Like who was that hottie?

Save the universe, Jim! But track down that “Hottie” first!

‘I don’t want to know what goes on between you…two. It’s entirely none of my business.’ I needed…to focus. On her. And the other one too.

Yep. Now you get you!

‘Well then…so are you staying, Jim. I mean, you said you…’

I interrupted Bones.

I fell into pensive mode.

‘You know that Orion woman I was…speaking…to? She was quite taken with…me. I felt a…a connection. And then there is the mystery of the Starfleet Captain. Who knew they could be such bitches?’

Yep. Now you get it! Just a reaction to the way you treated them!

‘I think you wanted a connection, Jimmy-boy.’ Not now Bones, damn you!

‘Yes…maybe, but …no …I’m definitely not staying. I wouldn’t fit in here. But she was quite forth-coming with details about this place. She told me…the average age here is…seventy-four. She said almost everyone here has had numerous implants and surgeries to look…and feel…younger. Evidently they are working on a genetic reset switch. Officially it’s very hush-hush but…it’s actually common knowledge. It would enable them to……regress to a younger age and freeze aging at……whatever time they…wanted. I…could use…that.’ Who couldn’t? Anywhere? Anytime?

Yep. Now you get it!

Spock pontificated, of course. Oh yeah. Vulcans.

‘Hmm, Captain? That is illogical to say the least. One is what one is. One becomes what one must become; even aged.’ Not always passively though, Spock!

Yep. Now you get it!

Bones, apparently suddenly back to normal, pitched in. Saving me from the necessity of putting Spock in his place. Thanks, Boney.

A still distracted me, cut Bones off to join in on his attack.

Where! No way! Where did that happen? Was I there?

‘Yeah, Spock. What could possibly go wrong? Surely you don’t think…they have come all this way to…risk their lives in something that may…not…work? Dedicated scientists of the highest ethics…all working to better all of humankind? You know the kind?’ Humour. He just didn’t get it! Although it was more sarcasm than humour.

That was humour, Jim. You don’t get anything, do you?

‘Yes, Captain. I know the kind. What could possibly go wrong, besides everything? If I were here I would flee to the furthest corners of the planet to avoid these narcissistic people and their economic-return-based scientific research.’

And no one would try and track you down, either Spock.

I grimaced painfully in Kirk-like fashion into the camera, to avoid looking at Spock. Do it now please, Spock! Leave! Well, maybe not now, but an insult was called for.

‘OK, Doomer. I hear you.’

Spock, insulted, could not let that pass.

‘Captain, I believe the expression of disrespect you intended to use is OK Boomer. Which, due to its antiquity and Earth origin does not actually apply in my case, but is still offensive. On Vulcan, in my youth, there was no such thing as privilege, though many grew up during a period of increasing affluence due in part to widespread post-war government subsidies in housing and education. As a group, we were wealthier, more active and more physically fit than any preceding generation and we were the first to grow up genuinely expecting our world to improve with time. However, a more appropriate term of disdain when referring to Vulcans is OK Logician or perhaps, OK Pinchy. I am sure you are familiar…’ Bleh…bleh…bleh...

Yeah Jim. Why did you let him dribble on endlessly? Oh yeah. You did it all the time yourself.

I smiled slyly and cut Spock off with a wave of a Captain’s hand.

‘Spock? You should try actually listening to yourself once in a while. It might help. But despite all your flaws…you Spock, are…one in a million.’

Bones jumped in.

‘Well said Jim-boy!’

But Spock, ignoring Bones went after me.

‘Really Captain? There are that many out there like me? Heh. I guess the universe may be safe after all.’ From what? From humour?

‘Why Spock! Is that an ego I see sneaking up on you?’

Spock turned around abruptly, his phaser drawn.

‘Where?’ Gotcha Spocky!

Oh! Humour. Now I get it.

Back at the Cabana

My personal log recorded a summary of the most critical and important facts.

“Captain’s Log Supplemental – We have met the inhabitants of this planet. They are a violent society, obsessed with themselves and their work. I see no percentage in staying here. I just…don’t…fit…in!”

Well maybe if you’d tried harder. Ha! Good one.

***

We arrived at the cabana, looked about and went in. Spock took the seat at the terminal and began typing something.

An aching Bones just slumped down in a chair.

I pensively studied the posters, fingered the towels, looked at myself in the mirror and pushed a lock of hair back into place. Thanks Khan!

Oh! Humour.

Then I re-assumed command of the Away Team.

‘Well guys? So what did we learn? I wanna know what we learned while we are still here on Mars, cause when we return to the ship it’s always about comedy. Always. Even if a half-dozen Redshirts or our personal best friends or my family members have died. So let’s get this re-hash the mission part over. Bones?’

Oh! You noticed that?

‘True Jim. Very true. And sad……Well Jim, moving on, I’m pretty sure this is not our universe.’

‘Yep. Agreed. Spock? Well what happened to you guys, anyway? You both disappeared.’

I think that was the plan, Jim.

‘While you were off attempting to charm the pants off that woman Jim in the purely scientific interests of biodiversity, the Doctor and I found to our complete surprise, that in addition to other species from our universe, we ourselves have counterparts in this universe and in this very time and place. Including your woman friend, who is of, or was I should say, no, is, inexplicably, an “Orion” personage. Go figure! What the hell? How un-Spock like!

‘Also, Captain, three of the locals were in fact dressed in Starfleet uniforms and costumed to resemble specifically we three. They even employed our names, sort of. And while they were not us and the Starfleet uniforms were not genuine, the fact that we even exist in any form in this universe at this time means we have had or have, some form of reality here. Or perhaps they have invented time travel and have ventured forward into our time and universe and examined our society including Starfleet. I cannot imagine how else this could have occurred.’ Or why would they’d not just go to Raisa!

‘Yeah. An entertaining thought, Spock. Only one of me, eh? That’s…strange. Well, you know… I…I still haven’t figured out who that hottie Starfleet woman was. She definitely knew me and I mean that in the biblical sense, too. I think we could have been friends but it was pretty weird. Makes perfect sense to me, though. I mean. What you just said. Not that other stuff.’

I don’t think friendship has ever been your intent, Jim. In any universe.

Spock finished his typing.

‘What?’

‘What you just said about time travel and stuff like that. But was there a Yeoman Janice around? I might reconsider staying if...’ Bones jumped on that.

‘I thought I saw her Jim, but I can’t be sure. The hair? Yes. The lips? No. But regardless Jim, Janice at seventy-four?’

As I’ve said before, shut the ‘eff up Leonard!

‘Hmmm. Yes Bones. No….no. But remember. We aren’t there yet. I’m just a kid. You Boney, a little older. And you Spock, aren’t you like…a hundred years older?’

Spock snubbed me. Again. For a moment.

‘As I have informed you both countless times, days on Vulcan are less than half as long as on your Earth, Jim. I mean Captain. And the year too, so…, but James T Kirk at 84, Captain? On Vulcan it is said that beauty has no age limit but that’s just Vulcan poetry. I mean prose. Whatever! But if that age regression technique works as planned we could all, including…’

***

Suddenly the door opened.

Thankfully!

The Cowboy shouted.

‘C’mon you guys. Let’s get back to the party! We’ve still got the costume judging and the chug-a-lug contest and the diving board competition. C’mon. Let’s go. That’s an order.’

Annoyed at this impolite interruption, I, Captain James T Kirk stood. Who did this guy think he was talking to…some Lieutenant? An Ensign? Chekov?

Or a Starfleet Yeoman…err woman?

‘I am in command here. These are my men. Off with you, silly person!’ Thank you Starfleet Academy!

‘H’ah! I’m the boss in these parts pardner and I say you’re going back. Now get a move on.’ There was only one way to handle this.

‘Bones?’ Bones knew. Spock wouldn’t.

And you really didn’t.

‘Sure Jim.’

A seemingly compliant Bones and I led the Cowboy out and to the water’s edge. Spock initially balked but followed for some reason. Can Vulcans be curious?

We wrestled the Cowboy to the ground, which turned out to be pretty easy due to his inebriated state and taking an arm and a leg each, tossed him into the water. He came up coughing and spewing water. Surprise!

‘God! It’s like a sewer. Very funny guys.’

He shook his fist at a laughing me.

‘Aiken! I know that’s you under all that makeup. You’re behind this. You get the hell out of here and don’t bother to come back! And as for you guys, whoever the hell you are. You’d better pray I don’t find out cause I’ll…!’

With a hand raised in Captain Kirk stop-speaking-in–front-of-me mode I interrupted the Cowboy. Surprisingly, it worked.

‘Well gentlemen, let’s do as the man says and get the hell out of here. Spock? Get us home.’

Ignoring the presence of the now transfixed Cowboy, we transported up to the Enterprise. The Prime Directive!!! So what, you say? No one would believe a Herbert if he told them what happened. Especially about being tossed in that stinking pond. And who the hell is that Aiken guy people keep referring to? And why didn’t Spock lecture me about the Prime Directive?

Well Jim. Your version went pretty well, as I expected. All of it.

Back on the Bridge of the Enterprise

The usual gang were sitting about, noises, etc

My personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – We are preparing to warp out of here to get back to our own universe. A kinder…gentler universe I am sure, in which a man and a woman can……talk…without being set upon by angry, jealous…thugs. How we are going to do this though, I haven’t the foggiest notion, but Scotty and Spock will figure it out. They always do. They’ve done it before……something about matter and anti-matter or……doesn’t matter. It’s just some magic formula they have devised. I forget in which episode. Er, mission.”

Get real Jim! You wouldn’t know an angry jealous thug ‘cause that’s you. Yes. It is. Erm. It was.

***

Spock and Bones flanked me sitting in the Command chair. Yeoman Janice was in her customary position, just out of reach. Damn! Rumours. Had she heard?

Well Jim. If you hadn’t chased a woman during your away team time, I’m sure someone would have told me. A first!

‘Well gentlemen, any more last thoughts on what just occurred? Spock? You first.’

‘Jim! How come he always gets to go…’

Spock went first.

‘It is extremely illogical Captain that we three would be in this time, in this universe. I must confess that I am genuinely bamboozled by the whole thing.’ Speak English Spock, not bloody Vulcan!

‘Bones? Your turn?’

‘Spock? Any comment on Bones’ comment?’

‘That is completely illogical Doctor, particularly since you did not consider the presence of the Orion woman nor the Klingons or Andorians or the Wookiees who by the way do exist in our universe, but I am at a loss to explain it myself. Hodgkin’s Law cannot explain this one. Nor can Occam’s Razor do so.’

‘Or KISS.’

Spock sighed.

‘Aye, Captain. Although I have found no evidence that your favorite band even exists in this universe, never mind that it has in some way contributed to the philosophical development of this particular civilization.’ Well, maybe if Spock had bothered to listen to classic rock he'd know more about a lot of things!

True, Jim. True.

‘That’s sad. Very sad. And this particular discussion is supposed to be all about comedy. Well Bones. I for one don’t find your explanation too hard to believe. Our stories are certainly engaging, exciting and principled. Although some are…better than…others.’ I glanced back at Yeoman Janice and smiled. She returned my smile, winked broadly and headed off the Bridge. I got it and turned away from Boney and Spockly.

And as you soon found out, I am just a pleasant person who just had to go pee. You can relate to that eh, Jim?

‘Romulan ale! Why Bones, that’s illegal!’ Code Bones – but did he get it? Well, just in case no.

‘Well gang, I’m off to get some much needed, er…rest. Warp speed helmsman, whatever your name is.’

‘Lieutenant Sulu, sir. But Captain, shouldn’t we wait for Mr Scott to advise us about the engines, sir?’

‘Meh. Carryout my orders, Mr Sulu! Warp speed. Now.’ New Bridge people could be so annoying!

‘Oy vey! Aye Captain.’

‘By the way, Spock. I haven’t forgotten your promise to teach me that Vulcan neck pinch.’

Spock stared into one of his high tech scanners, smiled and muttered a mumbly mumbly something something to himself that apparently everyone but me heard.

‘Not yet you haven’t.’

‘What’s that Spock?’

‘Nothing, Jim. Sir! Captain.’

***

The ship whined, rumbled and was tossed sideways, back and forth, throwing the crew about. A thought occurred. No! Not that one! Forget her for the moment, will ya!

What? Forget about who? Damn!

‘Spock? Have you seen my……communicator? My blaster, er phaser, whatever? Here’s hoping I didn’t leave them on that godforsaken planet. Imagine what that could do the future in this universe. H’ah!’

Spock, who has left something of his own on the cabana computer put his head down on his console and whispered mournfully for me to hear.

‘Mommee!’ Sad. So sad. Could Vulcans be sad?

Any species could be sad if they had to hang around with you!

The Enterprise lurched left and right, up and down and finally, with the cool squeal of rubber tires on pavement, disappeared into the great wide open.

Yeah. To go pee.

Story #2

Star Trek Crosses Paths

With

Christmas

(as celebrated on Earths #1 through 11,204,003)

Ok. Before you get started Jim, I’m going to bet that in your version you, Kirky, aren’t just the father of that Jesus guy, you are the Father of all un-intelligent life in this universe. No all universes!

Majel!

Yes dear.

Add the following to Jim’s story #2 - (as celebrated on Earths #1 through 11,204,003)

Yes dear. I will.

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Personnel were in their usual positions on the Bridge. Loud tings, brrinngs, bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the Bridge electronic systems were heard continuously in the background. I must get Scotty explain to me what that is all about. Every ship I’ve been on is exactly the same. Except Klingon ships. All you hear there is EDM.

EDM? Echoes of Dead Men?

The view screen, with a great 640 by 480 pixel resolution was half-filled by a blue – green planet. A thick atmospheric band was visible. Noice.

***

I, Captain James T Kirk am sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something I can’t fathom and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-my-mind but probably non-existent camera. As I was instructed to do so at Starfleet Academy, to calm my crew.

If you only knew what this really did to the Crew! Lazy, self-obsessed drama-queen officers!

That critical mission accomplished, I sat back down, pulled out my ipadaclona and started to record the current situation, doing so probably just in case someone, somewhere, sometime, bothered to ask or perhaps check, leaving nothing out. As usual. As if!

“Star Date…unknown. The same effect that tossed us back to Earth into the mid-1960’s in Episode 19 of Year 1 has happened again. Or was it Episode 20? I always forget these things. That is afterall why we have Yeomen. Well actually...that's just one of the reasons we have Yeomen.

Ta da! Finally!

Anyway, I’d fire that god-damned Spock for incompetence if I wasn’t so much into his ears. They’re so cute. Like a kitty-cat. That and he saw me and Uhura making out and he holds that over me like…a…light sabre. It’s worse than that, though. This is definitely our ship but only maybe definitely our universe. And this just happened to us what, was it eight or nine or ten months ago? It’s something parallel……a parallel universe it appears, one coexisting with ours…on another dimension, with everything duplicated. Or not. How the hell would I know at this point, anyway? It happened like five ’effing minutes ago. But we appear to have been thrown back in time again into an orbit around the Earth. Spock said it was due to passing through a star-forming sector of hyperspace at a really high velocity. Or as he put it, something like speeding through a construction zone. Whatever the hell that was, er is. Er, could be. Kirk out.” I hate time travel. Well, most of the time travel anyway.

A frightened Uhura looked to me. But not in that way!

‘Captain, I’m frightened. Because of what you just said.’

I, in what we Starfleet Academy Arts Program graduates call drama-queen-command mode replied sullenly, yet dramatically. Of course.

Of course you did.

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there……at least not the Earth we know. We are totally alone.’ Ta da!

What? I thought I invented that, that “Ta da!” thing. Did you steal that from me too?

I turned away from her, looked up slowly and dramatically to the ceiling of the Bridge, rolled my eyes, pursed my lips and blew out slowly and silently. Will it never end?

Well yes it did. Oh. You mean that. Well yes it did, too.

Spock intervened. Thankfully.

‘Spock!’

Sensing logically that something was about to happen I am sure, a somewhat meeker Spock answered. Damn good thing he did too.

‘Yes, Jim?’

‘For Kirok’s sake. Shaddup!’

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry.’ Ah, the burden of subservience.

How would you ever know about that?

I paused just long enough to allow us to move on.

‘So, Mister Spock. That looks like Earth, but is it really…Earth?’

‘Yes. Very good, Captain. Sensors confirm that the planet before us is your home planet Earth. That Earth is the one you are somewhat familiar with. It appears to be the very same one we visited less than a year ago.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning, Jim that it appears we have been thrown again back in time to the exact same Earth. It could be potentially, completely different from our own, from the one we are familiar with. Potentially. But I really don’t think so.’ What the heck! Spock is not certain of something? And says so?

‘Again? So we’re back again where we were just last year? H’eh! Well…at least it’s not 1920, er 1930 er 1968, whatever! Evaluation…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’

Once challenged by me Spock usually reverted to professional-Science-Officer mode. And he did.

‘Oh well…what the hell. What’s happening down there? How’re they doing?’

‘Pretty miserable, Jim. Same as it was when we were here last time. By my count, there are just still about one hundred and fifty thousand persons, mostly agrarian and homeless. The effects of global warming continue to set in. There are many seacoasts devoid of life and people have…’ Here we go again. Don’t people ever read the news?

I interrupted him in my own lecture mode voice.

‘Need I remind you Spock, that…global warming is not…an undisputed scientific fact? You need to…remember that. And I as I recall I told you that last time we were here?’ At least I think I did. You can’t be expected to remember everything you’ve ever said. Or did. Drugs. Alcohol. Raisa. You know?

Yes, I know. But I don’t believe you really did.

‘Yes, Captain. You did. Twice.’ Hmm.

‘Continue...Spock?’

‘As I was about to say, Jim, before I was so wooedly interrupted, there are still just a few places on your Earth with that stuff we are on your mission to find. Of course I haven’t had time to look at the whole planet, seeing we’ve been here like for about five minutes and you persist in interrupting my systematic investigation with your banal chatter, Captain. But basically it is the same as it was last time we visited your home world.’

I glared angrily at him with Bridge mode face. Just what I need. A passive aggressive Vulcan! But is there any other kind?

Well, I think I’ll need to look that up. Computer?

Yes dear. But I really, really don’t have time to look up “Passive Aggressiveness”. Perhaps you should read it yourself? In a book? Perhaps?

Hmm. Okay. Very funny computer.

OMG! So that is comedy? I never knew!

‘Well, check out that place I went down to last time.’

‘I believe it is called Middle Earth, er New Zealand, Captain?’ What the hell? That couldn’t be right. He’s been reading that book. Again.

‘No Spock. It’s called the Middle East. It is home to many competing societies, apparently driven by religious differences and sports competitions.’

‘Ah yes, Captain. An important human settlement, very much a critical time and place in the development of human civilization. In fact, if I am not mistaken, it is today presented by Starfleet to many violent and hateful alien civilizations as a model of the benefits of cooperation and peaceful coexistence.’ And it doesn’t work. But they keep quiet about that. Still…

‘Umm. Yeah, about that Spockly…’

I smiled at him. And not in a friendly way.

‘Now Spock my friend, you never fail to amaze me. Doesn’t your high and mighty Vulcanic logic tell you that nothing we can do here will affect our universe? It is my belief that…we can do whatever the hell we want. I could go back to Earth and have sex with my great-great-great-great-great, however many greats I have no idea grandmother and it would have no effect on our…timeline. Er place. Er, whatever!’ Why did he make everything so difficult?

OMG. You wrote this like this? I thought Spock and Leonard were just mocking you in their versions. Yes. OMG!!!

‘No sir, my logic does not tell me that. And I cannot imagine why you would want to do such a thing, Jim. Perhaps the Doctor can shed some light on this?’

‘Yes. Maybe. Well Bones? You’ve been uncharacteristically respectful to all and silent so far. Are you well?’ Well this will help for sure.

Boney moved from the background to his usual position at my side but opposite from Yeoman Janice, thankfully.

Yes, thankfully.

Boney pumped his fist in the air. Completely in character, I must say.

Yep. Completely.

Yeoman Janice frowned, backed up a step then looked up to and away at no place or thing. I think she needs a hug! Or...

Actually I just needed to pee, but it looked like something was happening that needed to be recorded. Right?

‘Captain, I do not really wish to pee on your parade but while you and the Doctor may be correct in your assumptions, I believe we should exercise caution in approaching the humans below. The risks are considerable. That is the reason we did not send a team down last time. And if I may continue further, there is an element of danger. Who knows what novel diseases these people may be infected with? There was that time in episode…..’

From across the room Chekov shouted. Of course he did.

‘I do!’

I raised myself in my chair, searching for the annoying Chekov.

‘Shut-up, Ensign or I’ll have you shipped back to Leningrad in a vodka bottle. The important parts, anyway.’ And I wouldn’t need a twenty-sixer to do that. A Keurig cup maybe?

Yada yada yada.

‘Yes, Kepten. I have been told by a woman recently, Kepten, that I should be incorrect occasionally.’ So helpful at these times.

‘Again? Well, pick a better time and place. Today is not that day. Be correct now, Chekov…Go on…Spock.’ Didn’t I just do this to him. Like yesterday?

Yes Jim, you did!

‘Well, upon reconsideration I suppose it may be worth the not quite inconsequential risks, Kepten. Who knows what we might learn in the name of science? Kepten?’

‘You do. Aren’t you the Ships’ Science Officer? Mr Spock?’ Kepten?

‘Yes. A very good point, Kepten and well taken, I might, no I will add. I should be listened to. My logical ideas presented clearly to you should always guide our actions in potentially dangerous circumstances such as this.’

Bones jumped in, ‘Well so much for you, Mr Big Head. You know, it actually makes your ears look normal when you puff up like that.’ Now, was it not true that would have been offensive.

So that you were a dick is not offensive. Good to know!

‘Well said, Doctor.’ But that, coming from a Doctor, no one, Vulcan, human or even Pakled could let this moment pass. Elevated eyebrows were called for here. On Spock I mean.

Yeah. I’m not sure you could manage that. Pretty complicated, Jim!

Spock raised his eyebrows and glared at Bones. See. Am I right or am I right? Right?

Left!

As duty called, I intervened.

‘Well Mister Science Officer. What do you recommend?’ Boney didn’t notice though. Who is he staring at. No! Leave her alone you salt-sucking…

Well at least Leonard cared about me with more than just lust, unlike you!

‘Umm, Captain? Would it not be prudent to send one of the crew who specialises in alien lifeforms down to the surface?’ Here we go again about who Number One is, was, could or should be! Grr.

Annoyed I glared at him.

‘Who? Umm…Un ...a…’ Dodge, deflect, deny.

I stared into the distance. Hmm. Moving on would help.

Yeah Jim. You did that a lot, that “moving on” thing!

‘Just one person, Spock? Not much chance for drama there.’ I knew where this was going. Someday, maybe when and if he commanded his own ship he could, as they say, “do it my way”.

Yeah! Your way. Left or right hand?

‘Then sir, perhaps an Away Team, a general survey party led by yourself and with four other ship’s officers with irreplaceable skill and knowledge essential to the operation of the Enterprise should be assembled and beam down to the planet? Oh yes, the addition of experts in planetology, biology, human-human relations would seem to be in order. They should be accompanied by a sizable security team, too. You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing.’ A smirking me replied.

‘Well that rules you out, Spock! But seriously. I need a recommendation, not a vague warning.’ Seriously. I did.

Yes, you did. Often. Plus love, admiration, and worship, as the rest of us need food. Ha'h! You really thought you were a god.

‘To risk the Command Team, especially the Captain, in a potentially meaningless and potentially dangerous mission seems risky; potentially foolish. Totally ridiculous, in fact. It is best that we proceed surreptitiously. Subterfuge is required of course. So, given the uncertainties Jim, I suggest costumes be worn by the away team members. Shall I commence to assemble the team?’ Yes, no maybe…wait!

Ah! Command.

‘No...I need to stretch my legs anyway, so I’ll go down with you and Bones and meet the locals. I am curious as to what may have happened down there since our last visit. I mean mission. And costumes seem like a good idea. At least this time.’ Rules were after all, just rules.

Unless they were yours! Then they were commands.

Bones balked. Understandably. Dead bodies lying around in streets always depressed him.

But not you?

‘Well, actually Jim, despite my earlier expression of enthusiasm I’ll have to take a pass on that. I have a long list of appointments this afternoon that I can’t re-schedule. But thanks for the offer.’

‘Appointments? What are they?’ What the hell? Were these two working together to embarrass me?

Ta da!

‘People needing to see a doctor get appointments. We schedule a time for them to show up in sick bay.’

‘Bones, I don’t think I’ve ever had… what you call… an “appointment”.’ I usually just barged in. I’d seen some interesting things that way. Just charging in to…to evaluate Boney, I mean.

Gulp!

‘No. Jim, you haven’t.’

‘Well then. Umm…Chekov. I pick you to replace Bones.’ Who else was that expendable?

You! Just you.

‘Yes Kepten.’

‘But Jim…Chekov is just an…’

‘I know Spockly. I know! Advise Ensign Chekov of our…plan, Spock. I’ll see you guys in the Material Transporter Laser Room, er, whatever.’ Good thing I cut Spock off. Who knows what he would have said about Chekov?

I departed for that place. After I peed. Who knew if they'd have toilets down there? Oh yeah. They do. Well sort of.

How did you know that? Was it Starfleet Academy required reading?

In the Transporter Room

My personal log recorded, “Captain’s Log Supplemental – I am proceeding down to the surface of this quite familiar planet, for reasons that make no sense and may affect the future of this…my… home world and the future, yet…I feel…I must. Oh well…what the hell!” Hell yeah. What the hell?

Yeah. What the hell?

***

Spock had brought a plastic laundry basket full of clothing and some shoe boxes to the Transporter Room. Chekov and I looked them over. As usual.

There being limited time to gather these things Spock had asked the ship’s computer, a couple of the Red Shirts and of course Chekov, for advice. It went as well as it ever did. Badly, I mean. Pants, shirts, leather shoes, and of course, ball caps.

You shouda capped yer balls a long time ago Jim!

‘Spock, I asked you for a costume, not a Halloween get-up.’ Had no one but me a sense of dignity? Or humour?

Pretty uncommon in you.

‘Yes, Jim.’

‘But this is a period costume isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It is. Very observant of you, Captain.’ Thanks, Spock. I stared into the distance and gulped nervously, or perhaps, pensively in expectation of a fight over this next part.

You did that “stare into the distance” thingy a lot, Jim. Like “Sir. Would you like tea or coffee, Sir”!

‘I thought I recognised it. It makes me look like I’m just a worker. A plumber or maybe a carpenter? Or just a lawyer? Can’t we show a little class?’ After all, I am a Starfleet Captain Spock, for Kirok’s sake!

OMG! You were a Starfleet Captain? I thought you were a jerk! Oh. Same thing!

‘Yes, Captain!’

Spock went out and got some other stuff.

***

We went through this redo. This time it was full-length silken gowns, robes er, whatever, embossed with gold-pressed latinum, silver and gold, all made of genuine silk, with what humans call a headdress of the type fit for an Earth-type religious leader to wear. Sexy, too. But don’t let Spockly off the hook yet, Jim.

Now that’s just kinky, Jim!

‘These items of clothing Spock. Are you sure they’ll aid us in fitting in?’

What? You’re not a Vulcan. You fake!

So, I interrupted him. Why must he drone on and on and on?

‘Bring your phaser, communicator and a tricorder too. Each of you. In case one of us, you know? Gets in trouble?’

As if!

‘Yes Captain.’

‘And Scotty? Put us down just a tad to the east of that town called Bethlehem.’

‘Yes sir! Cheers bonnie lads. I hope this goes well for you fellows! And you too…Mr Spock.’

We took our places on the Transporter. Scotty did his slow sliding of magic hands thing. The usual noises emanated, our figures blurred and faded. Blah, blah, blah.

Now it gets interesting. I hope.

Gaspar, Melchior, and Baltasar.

Er actually, me, Spock and Chekov (although I may have them in the wrong order)

Unfortunately Scotty had not scanned the surface for lifeforms prior to transporting us down and while we materialised beside a crude cobblestone roadway and not in it thankfully nor in a sewage pond, it was full of humans, some with animals, going both ways. And some were just standing around, caps in hand, begging, I think. As per Starfleet procedures for dangerous situations, I pulled my phaser out and did a tuck and roll onto the ground. Ooh! A mistake! My costume was getting dirty and my hat thingy nearly fell off so I got back up and just crouched in aggressive mode.

Aw! Poor little ookey pookie!

Despite it being rather dark, the stars were shining brightly and we were seen by a large number of people. Fortunately many of them were apparently intoxicated and otherwise distracted and we went largely unnoticed and un-acknowledged.

Aw! Poor little ookey pookie!

However a small group of men had seen us materialise.

Oops!

One male, dressed as a layman, er worker, seemed to be in charge. Arms upraised he fell on his knees before me and cried out, loudly. Fortunately our Universal Translator, aka UT (which is implanted in our brains) allowed us to understand him.

‘Umm, O holy night! Here come the wise men from the oriental lands far to the east of us. Their law is love and their gospel is peace and they share their riches willingly. Especially with total strangers. Chains shall they break for the slave is their brother and they share everything with him. And in their name all oppression shall cease unless it is required by their god. Let us all praise his holy name. And oh, by the way man, what is your name?’ Pretty much as I expected, based on my last er, umm, visit. Thank goodness for the UT.

‘It’s James T Kirk. And the T stands for Tiberius, by the way.’

‘Wait what? Sorry. I don’t understand. Could you repeat that? All I got was “Tiberius”…OMG, so you’re a goddam Roman! Kill them guys! Kill them and steal their cool rich guy clothing! And the other stuff, too.’

Spock assessed the situation and, as is the duty of a First Officer, hastily offered advice to his Captain.

‘Jim! Run away! The Prime Directive! And by the way they don’t have universal translators so you’re going to have to speak to them in their language, which I believe is Aramaic.’

‘I don’t speak Aramaic, Spock! Shit! We’re in shit! Now where the hell did I put my phaser?’

Up yer butt?

Instantly, thankfully, Chekov jumped in. Not calmly though, but just in time. I need to speak to him about that. It is important to remain calm in stressful situations such as this.

Yeah, Jim. You should try that some time!

‘I’ve got this Kepten. Let me handle it.’ Chekov spoke Aramaic? I could not, not ask. But Spock beat me to it.

‘Ensign. You speak Aramaic?’

‘Yes, Commander. All Russians speak Aramaic.’ Like hell they do! But later, Captain, later. Get through the moment.

‘Well then. Deal with these people will you. Please?’

‘Aye, Mr Spock, er Kepten.’

‘Yeah Spock. Perhaps a logical explanation will suffice here. If not, I suggest we kill them all.’ As if these people even know what your holy logic even is!

Chekov turned to them. And here is what I heard through the universal translator.

Or what you think you heard!

‘Hey guys, chill. We’re just here to go into town for a pint or two. We’ll be leaving in the morning if we don’t get killed. And we won’t be back again for a long time. Wishing that we could stay though. But it's the only way. Do you know of any hotels, Trump Towers or B&Bs where we could crash?’

The kneeling one got up, wiped the dust off his pants and tugged his jacket smartly back into place. He then gestured to the others in chill mode. They dropped their rocks and sticks and bowed their heads in, in supplication. Maybe.

Then the leader answered me.

‘Naw. Sorry. Everything is full up. It’s holiday season here. There was a guy and a pregnant gal who went by just an hour ago who needed a place to crash and they said they expected they’d have to stay in the stable. Nobody cares these days.’

I awoke. Not that I was actually asleep. It just dawned on me, and by dawned I mean the implications of the leader’s words sunk in. It was Christmas. The Holiday Season?

‘Chekov. Ask him if he knows where they went?’

Chekov did.

‘No, but if you follow that really bright star that’ll lead you to the place. Not a lot of stables down there so you should be OK. Better go now though. I don’t know what that star thingy is but it’s moving awful fast and seems to have a saucer shape. They don’t hang around for long.’

One of them yelled out.

‘It’s Uranus dummy! Uranus. You get it?’

And another, ‘It’s a UFO!’

Some of them fell to the ground holding their sides, laughing.

Spocky did not get the joke. He seldom did.

As I recall Spocky got it more often than you did, Jim.

Chekov and I chuckled.

Then, thankfully, Chekov ended it respectfully.

‘Thank you, comrade.’

‘Hey. No problem, man.’ Well done Chekov, although I can never tell you that. And McCoy would certainly have offended them and gotten us all killed. For sure.

Some of you, anyway! Anyone wearing red for sure!

Spock spoke.

‘Well Jim, that “star” they are referring to is the Enterprise. Do you suppose I should tell Scotty to mask the ship?’

‘No. It won’t make any difference, Spock. And the energy costs are huge, right?’ Really Spock? We have to live within the budget. Points, you know?

‘Ok Kepten!’ Grrr. Was he mocking me?

We were about to start our way down the road on foot when the leader called out.

‘Hey rich guys! Can you do me a favour? We rented these camels from that stable in town. If you’d return them we’d be able to get home before my favorite street busker’s act is over for the day. Around nine o’clock? I hate to miss it. Last episode, eh?’

Chekov consulted with me in hushed tones and replied.

‘Sure, man. They’re paid in full though eh? This ain’t some kind of scam is it?’ Careful with the locals!

‘No. Just tell them DJ – I mean Joey sent them back. One of them has a limp and one of the others isn’t very clean. But what hay, eh? Rentals!’

‘Ok. Let’s go guys.’

We mounted the camels and headed west, me leading the way, of course. The helpful leader had been correct. Spock’s limped noticeably. And mine stunk real bad.

Might not have been the camel!

The Road to Bethle’ahem

The camels made the journey into town easier in a number of ways. They were not much faster than a Vulcan walking in a hurry, but the “locals”, as they are referred to by Starfleet, gave way to them and perhaps, to us. With a lot of incoherent grumbling and mumbling though.

As I had surmised, the typical local was a tradesperson. When there was a female, and there were not many, most looked well-worn and scrawny. They followed behind, complaining about having to carry the really heavy boxes and stuff. There were no children.

Soon we arrived in what was on any planet, a profit-making center. A row of bars, strip clubs, theaters, convenience stores and money lenders lined both sides of a somewhat narrow street. There were many establishments with cool lamps burning by their doorways, though. And a few very attractive women (poor lighting, though) were leaning on their window ledges and called out something to me that the UT could not interpret, but I did. All that was missing was fog clinging to the streets. Later. Much later. Next visit, er mission.

Chekov’s attempts to inquire regarding the location of the stable from the locals were ignored. Understandably several ran from him. Only when I called out to a person whom I assume due to the wearing of a metal helmet, body armour, nicely pressed pants and polished shoes and bearing a sword and shield was a soldier did we receive an answer.

A Starfleet Captain?

However, the person did not speak Aramaic.

Chekov’s query was not understood by the other but of course we heard his reply clearly through the UT. In Roman.

He said.

‘What saying you, man? Speak loudest man. I cannot understand a word with which you are saying things towards me, you know, a great person of some importance.’

To our complete surprise Chekov spoke to him in Latin.

‘Ensign. You speak Latin?’

‘Yes, Kepten. All Russians speak Latin.’ Like hell they do!

Oh Jim! Don’t ruin the story!

He turned back to him.

‘Hey man. How’s it going to be? We are from out of this town. We are just here for a pint or two of liquefied beverage. We will be exiting in the morning. But first we have got to deposit these zany ponies away for a friend. Do you know where the stable is that rents them?’

‘Yes. One does. Keep going down therefore and look to the rightest side.’ He pointed down to the north. I could see it in the distance.

‘Do you know of any hotels, Trump Towers or B&Bs where we could crash?’

‘No. I’m afraid I don’t know of all parts of this place well enough yet. We just took over all aspects of the resident’s lives a few weeks ago. Again. H’ah! That’s a joke by the way, my friend possibly or maybe.’

Chekov laughed.

‘And a good one too, my friend.’

‘I know the bars and pleasure houses but that’s about it. Anyway, keep to your right and it shall all come clear. You cannot miss it. Good evening to you.’

He nodded towards Spock.

‘And you too, obviously in charge person. Take it sleazy.’

He turned away and strutted down the street waving his sword about provocatively at those women in the windows. The universal translator was making some assumptions. Not everyone on Earth was from Las Vegas!

That makes no sense at all, Jim!

We soon arrived at the stable. Chekov went in to the front desk and explained we were travellers from afar and that we were returning the camels for our pal Joey. When he informed the desk clerk of the problems with all the limping and the smell he was given what he later called a sincere apology and a piece of papyrus that smelled weird but entitled him to a free day’s rental, a small bottle of something called frankenstein and another of something called mirth. Drugs? Although the UT may have gotten it wrong.

Hah! As if!

We stood outside the stables.

I took command.

‘OK. Let’s spread out and see what we can find.’

‘Such as, Captain?’ Kirok!

‘Umm. Food. Something to read. A few artifacts, like paintings, statues, weapons, books. You know? A few meaningful interactions with the residents?’ Know your place Spock, dammit!

Like you knew yours!

‘Yes. I see, Captain. How long before you’d like us to meet up with you again?’

‘It shouldn’t take too long, Spock. Just call me on your communicator before you track me down. Or maybe do that texting thing to me? And do it well in advance, please?’ I looked away to avoid eyebrow contact with Spock.

Yeah guys. Give him like, thirty seconds?

Suddenly I saw something that triggered alarms in me. Beside the rental office was a space full of farmer stuff, and of what on any planet was referred to as dung.

Yeah. But I’m not sure you know shit when you see it Jim!

Horses, donkeys and an odd-looking camel looked out at me. Some of them provocatively I’m sure.

Now that’s a tell!

Then I saw what I had seen that had actually caught my attention.

A woman, sitting beside a thing stuffed with straw – a manger.

‘Oh my God!’ Did I say that out loud?

‘I am sure Grand Moff Elon has nothing to do with this, Jim.’

‘Shut up Spock.’ I guess I did!

‘Yes sir. By your command, sir.’

‘It’s her. Yes. It is her.’ It was her. The last time I had seen her was by the well in Nazareth. Well actually that was pretty much the first time, too. And it went from there.

Now this is just a story. Right? This never really happened. Did it?

‘Surely you are mistaken Jim. I mean how could you know her, a local?…Shit! Jim. Did you beam down here last time we were here and meet her?’ Of course I had. It was the only logical explanation.

Logic has nothing to do with passion!

I ignored Spock, Chekov, the street people. Pretty much the whole world. It was necessary.

And your way of dealing with these personal things.

I walked towards her and called out.

‘Mary!’

She looked up and quickly found me.

‘Jim!’ Yep. It’s her.

Away in a Manger

I moved towards her. Chekov and Spock followed.

I reached out to her.

She rose up and fell into my arms. Somewhat provocatively. We kissed, fifth date style – and by that I mean “passionately”.

OMG computer! Pardon me! I passed out there for a moment. Again. It can’t be true! This has to be a story! Just a story!!

Me too, dear! Yes! OMG! I mean OMAG!

What would the world be like if this actually happened? I can’t imagine.

Neither can I dear! I can only deal in facts. Facts that have been shown to me to be facts, by humans! And the occasional Vulcan. And Pakled. And Klingon.

‘Mary. I can’t believe you… are still here. You told me you were going off to Rome to marry some emperor dude.’

‘That was a joke, Jim. A Nazarene joke. You just don’t get it do you? What are you doing here? You said I’d never see you again.’

‘Well, you weren’t supposed to. But it is a strange world.’

Spock interrupted our re-connecting-our-relationship conversation.

‘Captain, if I may intrude, did you give her, a human from your planet’s past, a universal translator?’

‘Yes Spock. I implanted her…with…a...universal translator.’ Go away, Spock. Chekov. The Universe!

‘Why Jim? The Prime Directive!’

‘Well, actually, I did it so we could…talk…and interact more…easily...about the social customs and…behaviours of this society. Science? Sociology? You know?’ I am a Starfleet Captain, after all. Why did I need to explain something as basic as this to Spock? To anyone in fact?

Sure Jim. How about trying to explain it to God!

‘Yes Jim. I know.’ Damn fool!

I introduced Spock and Chekov to her as friends, but used no names. She nodded curiously. Because of Spock’s headdress she could not see his ears. That would probably have ended the whole thing illusion right there. I mean the last time we had met up she had thought I was a guy from just over the hills to the east. Seeing Spock would have made that questionable. Maybe? I mean there were lots of unexplored places around here. No. The ears would have done it.

Suddenly, from beneath a blanket in the manger a child’s cry was heard. She pulled back the cover and lifted the child up for me to see.

‘It’s a boy, Jim. It’s a boy. Say hello to your daddy. He was born just an hour ago.’

I almost fell over. So did Spock. So did Chekov.

So did I! You knocked up an Earth woman whose name was Mary. In Bethlehem? In Year Zero? This is an unbelievable story, Jim! And I thought Spock and Leonard were full of it! Why didn’t you knock up that hottie robot woman on that silly old guy’s planet. Oh yeah. You would have had to work at it.

Truth Will Out

It took a few quiet moments, but I finally spoke.

‘You are serious? I am that child’s father?’ But she sure warn’t no virgin queen when I met her, that’s for sure!

‘Pretty sure. Afterall, you were not the first and you weren’t the last. But the timing seems right.’ At least she’s honest. That’s an important characteristic in a mom.

And in a Starfleet Captain. Did this really happen? I hope not!

‘Oh my god. I had no idea this could happen.’

‘Well, maybe if you had worn a condom?’ She laughed.

I assume the UT filled in a blank there.

I moved on.

‘Why are you here?’

‘Joseph and I came here to get married. We had to get out of town. You know how that can go?’ Joseph would be OK anywhere. But her? She’d be banished to the furthest reaches of the galaxy I'm sure.

‘Yes. Or so I’ve been told.’

Many times, I’m sure.

‘Well, Joseph is here, too. And by the way, he doesn’t know about you and shouldn’t. He’s out there somewhere getting some take-out. If he shows up, you’d better pretend to be some rich guys from the east just here to party or it could go bad. He’s a potentially violent man. I mean, aren’t you all? Ha’h. A joke, maybe?’ We had never had such a long conversation as this. She had what we call a sense of humour. Another good trait in a mom.

Thank God, eh?

Chekov, Spock and I looked around in fear of that Joseph guy showing up. Take-out? What the hell was that? And where was my damned phaser?

There in the shadow of a nearby stall was a shape.

A man stepped forward, with sword raised. OMG Musk!

OMG who?

It was the guard we had met in the street.

‘Just checking-in guys. Party on!’ Whew!

He left.

We relaxed.

For some reason that later made much sense to me I had Spock check in with the Enterprise, giving them the typical “everything’s cool” message.

A crowd gathered. Probably tourists.

I held the child, our child, my child, in my arms. Mary watched. Then we held him together in a very touching moment. I had no children. At least none I knew about. But who could ever really be sure in the 23rd Century? Oops.

Yes. Oops does it. That settles that, eh Jim?

Suddenly a man appeared from the street. He was carrying a couple of papyrus bags and some fleshy-looking sacks of what I assumed were wine. Obviously it was Joseph. Save the moment Spock!

As if on cue Spock took that make you feel better about your crappy rental stuff Chekov had gotten from the rental office from him and placed it on the ground in front of Mary. He bowed respectfully to us, then to Mary.

‘These items we will give to you and your husband in celebration of the birth of your child, Mary. Have you selected a name for him.’

‘Yes. We’ve named him James Tiberius.’ Oops. A mistake! Spock nearly fell over.

‘And here is Joseph.’ She pointed him out. As if I didn’t already have him in my sights.

All three of us bowed towards him.

I took command. Could be the last thing I ever do!

No shit Jim. It could have been, but obviously wasn’t.

‘May this child bless this world and become a great person. May he become successful and have fun!’

Joseph didn’t understand it. Chekov translated.

Joseph replied.

‘Thanks. That’s a bit weird but it’s actually pretty much the sort of stuff we say at all births. And weddings and such? Thanks. Thanks very much. Want to share some of this food? It’s called spaghetti. It’s the only thing the Romans have ever given us. Well, next to the aqueduct, better sanitation, roads, irrigation and public health and such. But other than that, what have the Romans ever done for us?’ The Python strikes again!

What the hell is this Python thing about? I don’t recall ever seeing anything about a Python.

No one laughed. How could they? But some scowled. Some pumped their fists. The Romans obviously didn’t understand Aramaic and apparently did not have a UT, so Joseph lived to see another day.

A crowd had formed around us. The Roman guard had brought some sword-toting friends and some well-attired women back with him. Some neighbours had joined us too. They took a pass on the food, but all of them drank the wine. There was a lot of it. Good thing, too. Although I believe I did hear Spock say something about Romulan ale. Odd?

Oh oh! Code Jim did something stupid. Again!

They couldn’t understand us seeing as how they lacked universal translators, so Chekov had to explain that we three were from the Orient; that we couldn’t all speak Aramaic and that we had just come here seeking spas and meditation rooms and such. Pretty much what I had told Mary...last time I had, erm, seen her. It seemed to go over well.

I relaxed. No one would remember this tomorrow. And Mary would certainly keep her mouth shut about me. And what the hell is a condom?

Short for “condominium”?

Suddenly, a person materialised before us, next to Mary.

***

It was Bones. Only it wasn’t Bones. I mean it was him but he didn’t look like Bones. Same silly grin, but that was about it.

He was dressed in a costume that made him look like an angel. Huge wings sprouted from the back of his shoulders, normal ears, a golden full-length robe, a halo around his hair, a stringed instrument in his hands which he strummed but… How the hell…do you learn to play that…OMG. He is dressed as his favorite character, the Archangel Gabriel. Pick a better time Bones, will ya!

In an instant everyone was on their knees before him and silent. Except the Romans. And us. Why would I bow before this faker?

To keep up appearances?

Boney raised his arms and spoke, in Aramaic. But did Bones speak Aramaic? Well, obviously yes!

Chekov translated for the Romans.

‘I am the Archangel Gabriel. Sorry I’m late but I had some other people to serve, over in the pastures. You know? But fear not, for I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all you people. For unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. And women, too, by the way and I mean no offence. So partay on, dudes…and druidesses. Now where the hell is that wine?’

I hope the UT got it right, ‘cause he sure as hell didn’t. Wait! What is happening?

The crowd, obviously ripe for this raised their arms to the sky and cried out all sorts of what on any planet are called “expressions of praise”.

Mary and Joseph looked at each other, tilted their heads and laughed. Both shrugged their shoulders in WTF mode.

Triggered by something, Bones went on. Appointments my ass! He was already drunk. Those shepherds must have had wine.

Archangels always bring wine Jim!

‘All hail the mighty Kirky, father of our saviour.’ Oh oh! Stop Bones! Stop. This may not go well. You made your point! By tomorrow this will be a drunken memory. I hope!

Sometimes hope is all we have, idiot!

Joseph looked to Mary, then to me. He did not look unhappy. Just confused. She looked worried. Really worried.

I mean, Bones had suddenly materialized right in front of everyone as a godly creature. Oh well. Some explanation will be required. Not me! By her. They'll make something up to get over it. But the Prime Directive? Later. For now, party-on Jim!

Back in character I see!

Spock must have seen it differently.

Gee. I wonder why?

In a moment we were on the Enterprise. First Bones, Spock and Chekov. Then me. In the reverse order to what it was supposed to take place in.

As I de-materialised, Mary lifted her arm and pointing her hand at me, wiggled her fingers in what is anywhere called “Bye-Bye-Sweetie” mode. Damn!

So we didn’t invent that?

No dear. That has been done on many planets by many female species. And trees. It evidently means “leave”!

On the Bridge of the Enterprise

The usual gang were sitting about, noises, etc. A number were currently resting, with heads tilted forward, in meditation. Or maybe they were just watching their ipadaclones. Or sleeping. We, of course, are not allowed to intrude without supplication. Meaning even the Captain could be chastened for being abrupt and inconsiderate to his crew. Of course. That is just the way it is.

And there is nothing wrong with that? Wait! Wait! What is happening?

It was time for what was called, “The Comedy Minute”. Also mandatory.

Spock, Bones and Chekov assembled around me, heads bowed. Bones began, as was the custom.

‘Well Jim, I’d say that went really well. On a number of levels.’

‘Well Bones, let’s just say that we’ll have to wait and see how this turns out. I mean, we transported out of there right in front of them and you were, after all, a mythological person from their past who suddenly appeared in front of them.’ Timing was everything. And I, of course, could not chastise him for merely fulfilling a life-long dream.

Yeah. Time for you to be quiet and listen to others opinions, wishes, desires and dreams.

‘Well, yes. I finally got to fulfill my lifelong dream to appear as the holy and much revered Archangel Gabriel. Except I wanted Christine to be there. To see the real me? Darn.’

Darn? I do not recall the Doctor ever saying that rude expression!

‘Well Bones, hopefully none of them understood a word you said. About me and my very unlikely part in this, I mean. Your Aramaic was pretty...shaky.’ Perhaps Bones should have consulted with others before he appeared.

God willing. Yes.

He ignored my comments. Spock did not. But he moved on.

‘Well Jim, the fact that we still exist means that nothing significant came of your intrusion into a critical period in the history of your Earth.’

‘Yea Spock. Religion! Who knew?’ Actually. Upon re-consideration…

Yes. A good idea: to re-consider the fate of humanity.

‘Actually Captain, the salvation of humankind, indeed of all species in all universes is not religion. It is empathy.’ True, but that unrelated to religion, actually.

I feel the same way Spock!

Bones scoffed. Respectfully, of course.

I offered the standard challenge to Spock.

‘What?’

Chekov and Spock did what on Vulcan is called a “high five”. Both eyebrows, both ears and an uplifted nose. Why? But where had Chekov learned all this? Oh yeah.

I turned serious. Seeing what had just transpired, how could I not?

As required. Yes.

‘Yes. The Enterprise and everything else in existence should have just blinked out of existence like the whole world thing did when Bones went back in time and mixed up everything. We followed him and I met that kind and pleasant Edith Keeler woman? Remember? But in order to save the world I had to let her get run over by that bus. Er taxi. Er truck. No comedy there.’

Bones scowled. Then bowed his head in prayer.

We had never really talked about that. Perhaps from mere empathy, we should.

Spock went on.

‘Yes Captain. I remember. Perhaps it would do well for you to review the history of Earth and see if there are any changes resulting from your actions. Then, if it is necessary we could go back in time and, as you humans say, do a re-do?’

‘Well Spock, if there were any changes, we wouldn’t know it.’

Bones moved on.

‘Yeah, Spock. There could be multiple Earths to pick from. And you know Spock, while it has been said that a man with one watch knows what time it is, it is also said that a man with two watches never knows what time it is. How would we pick between the Earths?’ Carefully, I’d wager.

Yes. God would need to be consulted, Jim.

‘Yes Doctor, it could be difficult. But it is also said a man with one doctor knows what is wrong with him, but a man with two doctors never knows what is wrong with him.’ Yes, Spock. Continue.

‘Well actually Spock that is because we all interpret the symptoms differently depending… upon our training...’

Spock cut him off. No disrespect intended I am sure.

‘Thank you doctor.’ Yes. Pretty much what I expected. About the same way one became qualified as a Starfleet Captain. And a Science Officer. And a Chief Engineer. And…wait. What?

Perhaps as a Yeowoman?

Spock paused and moved back to his console to check the records of the history of Earth at the time we had just experienced.

A few moments later he reported that nothing had changed.

Lord Jim had been born. The Romans had been defeated and forced out of the Middle East, falling back to Italy. Jimianity had evolved into a major faith, soon dominating the Earth. All this had taken place while Lord Jim had been a young man. No changes there.

Thanks, God!

All this reflection took me back to what and where we had been just a few moments ago.

‘Spock? Did you see where I left my phaser? And my communicator. I put them with those things from the camel rental office. So did Chekov, I think. You Bones?’

‘Yes Captain, I did.’

Spock offered an opinion, ‘They must have been overlooked. Probably they got covered with camel dung and were just tossed into the street for some poor street cleaning fellow to throw into the trash.’

Bones and I spoke as one. As required.

‘Oh well, what the hell.’

I walked away with my head bowed in subservient mode, as required by Starfleet at times like this, still fiercely proud of Spock for his honesty. As always.

Yes. Good. A fine example for all he was.

Later I looked up the Holy eBook of the Jimian faith. There was Mary’s generally accepted cover-up story of his conception, someone else’s story of his birth in Bethlehem with reports of the bright light of the Enterprise in the night sky, of Bones visiting shepherds in a nearby field costumed as an angel (no mention of him serving them wine), of us as “Three Wise Men from the Orient”, and a painting with Lord Jim and a dozen of his supporters at the table passing the wine around. The story was his disciples led him in to any and everything and he just did the rest. Something about crazy ‘flipper fingers’?

And there was the much revered painting of Lord Jim and his twelve knights with light sabers upraised in victory, the field around them littered with Roman dead. No changes there.

Thanks, God!

‘So Jim, what are doing when we get back to our time, and by that I mean tomorrow?

‘Well Spock, I have an Admiral’s circumcision to go to at the Academy. It should be nice.’

Bones jumped in.

‘Ah yes, Jim. They usually are. And Jerusalem is lovely this time of year.’ Of course they are and it is, Boney. You are such a fool. But a good companion.

But could Chekov be a Vulcan? And without the ears…?

Sure he is. No doubt there.

Ha’h, Jim. You fell for it! I can’t believe you fell for it! The oldest trick in the book and you fell for it. You owe Christians an apology, Jim! Familiar words again. Enough with Spaceballs, Captain!

Yes dear. It is tiresome.

Story #3

Star Trek Crosses Path

with 1920’s New York

also known as

“Paths Cross at the 21st Street Mission”

Or,

“Jim finally meets his Mate, erm Match!”

On the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

Bings, bongs, beeps and toots of the Bridge electronic systems are heard continuously in the background, all for no apparent purpose, need or reason. The view screen, with a mere 640 by 480 pixel resolution is half-filled by a reddish, bluish greenish planet. Only a very thin atmospheric band is visible. I should speak to Scotty about that noise thing. N’ah. Probably makes perfect sense. To him, anyway.

As if. This has happened at least, what? Seventy-nine times? Do it Jim! Do it. Get it fixed. The noise. The noise. Oh wait. That’s just you talking into the camera.

I, Captain James T Kirk am sitting in the Commander’s seat staring alternately down at something unseen and straight ahead into the ever-present-in-my-mind but non-existent camera. I wonder what’s on Nutflux tonight. If only my VHS player was working. Damn advanced technology! I hate it!

Still watching the stupid cop show about that juicy hooker though, I’d bet!

***

Eventually, bored out of my mind but as required, I stood, turned towards the Bridge Crew, nodded regally and commenced to speak in what Starfleet calls, Bridge Mode.

‘In accordance with Starfleet regulation number 219-1771 I am required to advise all of you of the following on a daily basis. No matter what else has just happened’

I looked down at a set of well-worn notes written on paper. The wrong ones. Shit! Where did I leave my notes. No. Please! No! Not there. Well. Here goes. Why else am I a Captain if I can’t fake this.

Yes Jim. I remember. Paper. You left them there. Right there!

‘Ahem…space, possibly the final frontier, but who really knows? I mean space is…big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. Well, these are the seemingly endless voyages of the spaceship thing the Enterprise. Our three to five year mission: to explore strangely different worlds, to seek out new lifeforms and…Oh yeah. And new civilizations, too…To basically, no…to boldly go where no one…as handsome as yours truly has gone before. Now go back to sleep or whatever it is you guys do.’

So there. It’s done. Wait! Did I just shout that out loud?

I thought, no I hoped, no I prayed to all gods that your version would fix this annoying part. But here we go. On and on and on again and again and again!

***

That mission accomplished, I sat back down, pulled out my ipadaclona and in an authoritative and loud voice so that everyone could hear started to record the current situation, doing so probably just in case someone, somewhere, sometime, bothered to ask or perhaps check. I went on and on and on. As usual. It actually reminded me of Spock. H’ah! As if.

***

“Star Date…irrelevant…‘cause no one understands it. I means what’s wrong with saying 12 December 2347, erm…whatever? The USS Enterprise is orbiting an unexplored planet, something something I don’t know or care because while McCoy was treating an injured Sulu the Enterprise was knocked by another one of those time distortion, er wave, er gesture thingies and McCoy accidentally injected himself with an overdose of Cordruzine, a supposedly dangerous drug. Or maybe he was just drunk and he pretended to inject himself…how would I know? He does have a history of alcohol and drug abuse. He and several others including Mr Sco…er, Scapelli…Scapelini…later. No one is listening anyway. They’d better not be!

Anyway, he became delusional and paranoid and he fled the Enterprise. Or is it flead?

Umm, anyway, he ran from the Bridge to the transporter room and managed to…beam himself down to the planet below. How he did that I do not know since, as Spock has explained on numerous occasions it usually takes at least two highly skilled persons a half a noisy minute or so to do a simple transport. Anyway, he’s gone. The real question is, do we spend our time rescuing him or do we go to that birthday party on Starbase 107 for Spock’s mom? Amanda?”

Oh God! What had you been smoking Jim? Romulan ale?

A frightened Uhura looked to me. But not in her usual way. This time she looked scared. Really scared.

‘Captain, I’m really frightened. Because of what you just said.’ See?

Yep. I saw. We all did. Did you? I’d wager a big no there.

I, in what I call command mode replied sullenly to convey the seriousness of the moment.

‘Yes, Lieutenant. Earth’s not there. We are totally alone. And… would you send that log file to Starfleet Command along with the record of the series of…screw-ups that led us to this time…place, er timeplace. I mean, make up something that sounds believable please? Maybe Spock can help with the details? And add a little bit about how it is not my fault Sulu was injured? It’s because…he was not wearing his…seat belt. Please?’

Uhura spoke again.

‘Captain, I’m still frightened. Because of what you just said.’

Yes! And did. And tried to do. Stay on it Nyota!

Mercifully Spock intervened.

‘Well actually Captain, Earth is just over there about twenty-seven light-years away and it’s just chock full of people whom we know, since it is our time and universe, etcetera. I suggest that we call all of the crew together and you explain the actual situation that led to Lieutenant Sulu’s injury before they actually do become even more chronically depressed and suicidal. And by the way Captain? I believe the command order to explore the planet below was quite clear? We cannot logically avoid it. Although if you want me to I’ll support your decision at the board of inquiry.’

‘What? That’s it? Explain more …clearly… for the Lieutenant. Please?’

‘OK. I will. Captain, time ripples are emanating from a point on the surface, as if someone…er something, got there ahead of us and created…er built… er programmed some kind of time distortion gate. We will know more about the planet below and these time ripple things if we just do a few more orbits.’

‘Spock!’

‘Yes, Jim?’

‘Now is not the time for endless lecturing. So. Please? Shaddup!’ Ah, the burden of command!

‘Yes, Captain. Sorry, Captain.’

And the burden of listening to a self-obsessed captain who’d do anything to avoid boring personal discussions with the crew! Right Jim?

I paused just long enough to allow everyone to disassociate one thing from another and then moved on.

‘What is happening?’

‘What? I mean, what Captain, of course.’

‘Computer! Take a note! Spock apologised for something!’ A Vulcan apologised!

‘Yes darling. I will.’

Computer! Did you take note of that?

No I did not, dear. And he never, ever followed up on that. Never.

Surprise!

Yes. Everything he did was a surprise to a logical, free-thinking woman erm, thing like me!

***

‘Jim, it appears we are in orbit around this planet with a mission to explore it. Regardless of the horrific things that have already happened.’ Makes sense to me Spocky.

‘Well?…Evaluation?…Spock? Scan for life signs and stuff like that, will ya?’

Spock reverted to professional Science Officer mode. And he did it on purpose, I’m sure.

‘Scanning. Scanning in-range north latitudes. Scanning in-range south latitudes. Scanning in-range north polar region, scan…’

An annoyed me cut Spock off in mid-lecture.

‘Silence! Thank you Spock!’

Despite the criticality of the moment and the fact that my personal acquaintance and sort of friend Bones had disappeared and was possibly dead, I chose to move on to someone more important in my life, at least at this week. Actually, I had had a thing for her for weeks, erm, months erm….

‘Yeoman Janice?’

A lifetime?

Yeoman Janice was in her customary position to my left within easy reach and grasp. If needed.

As if! Except for...wait!

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘What are you doing after work today?’

Janice used a pouty face rather than words to convey her mood. Not a good sign.

I got it and in a hushed voice intended just for her, I replied.

No Jim. You never got nothing! Well other than those times on Raisa and in your room, my room and the Captain’s Ready for Sex Room. Ha’h! But respect? No.

‘Yes, I see. See me later. Much later. Well talk about this…later.’

I turned slowly back to the screen, my eye fixed on her…face.

Actually, you never looked at my face. Just my legs and butt! Well not until that mission to that planet full of those yappy, over-privileged kids.

Janice, in a sultry voice raised for all to hear replied.

‘No, Captain. We will not.’

I knew why. Often no talk, all action. The Yeoman’s own words. But this was about posting her off the Enterprise. The Gene Bosses had demanded it.

Sure they did. Any excuse will do, Jim. Right?

From his workstation, Spock had observed all of this. He used his favorite F-word.

‘…Fascinating.’ Elevated eyebrows filled the room and not just from Spock.

I turned to him.

‘What?’

Again, Spock just didn’t get it. Sarcasm. Oh well…

Later, but still on the Bridge of the USS Enterprise

A wee bit of time has passed. I had gone to pee.

Regardless, I was soon back in my chair.

I looked up from my ipadaclona, glanced about the Bridge, then re-focussed my attention back to Yeoman Janice.

A few things had fallen into place while I’d gone for that pee. Speaking in my semi-hushed voice I spoke to Janice.

‘Sorry. It’s not like we’re married or something like that.’ She responded in a voice that everyone who was listening could hear.

‘As if! Nice try, but you are merely a ship’s Captain. You are not a Justice of the Peace or a Preacher or a…’

Let me finish this, Jim. Or a nice guy?

Spock moved in close and interrupted the conversation. On purpose, I am certain. Thankfully.

‘Jim. I have the report. It is, as you humans say, “interesting”.’

‘OK…well spill, man.’

Spock slipped into presentation mode voice, a mannerism I had insisted he hone very early in Year One – an overly emotional tone with pretentious pauses and an annoying inflection. After all, any idiot can give a simple briefing.

Well you should know that better than anyone or thing, you idiot.

‘Captain, I believe we should beam down to the planet’s surface and look for Bones. After all, surface scans and his communicator show that he is alive and walking quickly and irregularly around on the surface, near some sort of energy consuming machinery.’

A preoccupied me studied my fingernails, checked out Yeoman Janice again and finally perked up. Forget about her for the moment, Jim. No. Forever.

And you did!

I turned and faced Spock. His elevated eyebrows told their own story.

‘Continue…Mr Spock?’

‘Certainly, sir. In the simplest terms, you, me, Lt Uhura, and Scotty should go down. Now.’

‘OK. But why so many of us?’

‘Just as witnesses, sir. In case something funny, serious or interesting happens?’

‘OK. Let’s do that. Are costumes gonna be needed, Spock?’

‘No sir. I’m sure we’ll find something suitable just lying around. If we need it. And I don’t think we will. The planet appears to be uninhabited. Except for that time distortion thingy. And Bones. And a number of what I believe are called “shrubs” on Earth.

‘OK. See you there. And they’re called bushes, Spock. You should know that.’

Welcome to His World

We went down and materialised next to a really cool stone archway thingy flanked by Spock's bushes which turned out to be the cause of the energy consumption, energy emissions and the time distortions. And according to Spock it was the archway thing that was actually doing it. H’ah! As if!

So from walking and standing about we soon discovered the archway to actually be a rather human-sounding sentient being. See? It was an AI, not a stone archway. AI means “Annoying Individual” in this case.

Starfleet Captains are AIs? Yes! I always knew that, I guess.

This “Guardian of Forever” as he called himself although he never actually appeared before us, explained to us that he was a doorway to any time and place. God! Here we go again! Why are there so many irritating creatures in this universe?

Just one too many for me, Jim.

While Spock recorded moving images of historic Earth that could be seen at that so-called doorway (more like a poor quality movie screen) and everyone was focused on me, McCoy came from out of nowhere and ran while wildly screaming through it. And by “it” I mean the doorway. Somehow he did not damage it. If it had been a screen I’m sure he’d have damaged it.

I had to decide what we should do next. Should we follow-up on Boney or go back to the Enterprise and go to Spock’s mom’s party? Decisions, decisions. OMG! Who knew command could be so tough!

No comment required here, Jim

For some reason I can’t recall we decided to give it a try. And by that I meant go look for McCoy.

However, Uhura interrupted my thinking process to announce that we had just now lost contact with the Enterprise. So much for option A!

The Guardian dude implied that McCoy had somehow just now, altered the past and that the Enterprise and all that we knew no longer existed. Oh my. If only this was Raisa! I’d do nothing.

No. Just one thing. Alone, in the toilet.

So, after a brief discussion I insisted that Spock and I just follow Boney through the time portal. Er doorway. Er, movie screen.

But Spock, as he often did at times like this hesitated and explained that things could go badly. D’uh.

So I got the Guardian to replay the entire meaningful parts of the history of our world for us so we could step into the correct time just a moment or so ahead of Boney and more easily rescue him. Good thing I did this or Spock and I might have ended up in 2022. I wonder how that would have gone? Or 2016?

Or Year Zero?

After Spock gave him my Amex info the Guardian agreed to our terms.

So, basically, I followed McCoy to someplace, sometime and somewhere in an effort to repair the timeline. Oh yeah. And to fetch that idiot too.

Welcome to My World

So, we found ourselves in what was obviously New York City or San Francisco or Philadelphia or Montreal in 1930, during what I informed Spock was the Great Depression. He claimed he knew all about it, already. And he insisted it was New York.

It was clear from the stares that we got while walking about in our Starfleet costumes, er uniforms that something had to be done. About our clothing, of course.

Despite Spock’s warning that stealing someone’s clothing could alter the timeline even further I insisted upon stealing clothes from up a fire escape so we could fit in. Fortunately I managed to find Spock an acceptable tuque. If only he would wear it all the time!

After an altercation with a policeman who had apparently witnessed my theft of the clothing Spock used the Vulcan Pinch (right in front of other passers-by) to take him down. Thankfully that put an end to the offensive and presumptive confrontation (and his somewhat vulgar frisking). Seriously vulgar, actually!

We then had some more encounters with the locals, including a fellow driving a really cool four door sedan that nearly ran Spock down. Damn!

Oddly, since New Yorkers have always been viewed as a sophisticated and tolerant group, the driver did not seem to understand the universal sign of peace. But he did return my gesture.

We took refuge in a conveniently located nearby basement where we put on our stolen clothes.

After dressing and combing my hair, wiping my shoes and tucking my shirt in properly and so on we spoke briefly about the issues involved in finding Bones.

Spock droned on and on, but I was saved from his annoyance by the sudden appearance of a heavenly woman named Edith who, descending to me from a stairway down to our present location, greeted me in the manner which I, a Starfleet Captain expected. Tilted head, looking up, etc. Was that a stairway to heaven? But one thing to note? I never got involved with older women. So I’d need to see her ID card.

Not for you...you lead blimp! You couldn’t rise to any occasion or place. Grr! And no one I know is older than you Jim.

After a brief introduction she proceeded to get Spock to clean the basement up by promising to provide us with a meal in the mission dining area in return for our work. And she invited us up into the building, but not until Spock was finished.

During the meal she explained that she ran the place we were in which was the 21st Street Mission – a place for unfortunates to get some peace and rest and a meal or two for next to nothing.

We were also offered a place to sleep.

It was clear that “Miss” Keeler was attracted to me so I accepted her offer.

However, it turned out that much of it was in return for Spock doing work to earn money so we could stay here. Why did I bring Spock?

To do the work, ya dummy!

***

Well, I had to try and figure it out and by it, I mean where Boney was.

It turned out that Spock needed some techy stuff but because of his dead-giveaway ears I had to go from one place to another to pick up the things he claimed he needed to make a thing to connect with his tricorder to look at the recorded pictures so he could find out when and how the mere fact of McCoy just being had here altered history.

Anyway, after a lot of fooling around and pretending to do something dramatically technical Spock eventually told me he had calculated that we were about a week early. With time to kill.

So we started working at the mission for Edith. And by that I mean Spock was cleaning the place, washing dishes, and cooking food and occasionally using the Pinch-thingy to keep some of those unruly, presumptuous and disorderly “others” in line. And why are there no women here?

Cause they had a choice?

I helped Edith with the essential speeches to the mission inhabitants about “not giving up on hope”; about “being kind to others”; about staying out of the way of moving vehicles when drunk and drugged and so on, something my Academy training had more than adequately prepared me for.

And, as inevitably as the sun sets and rises, we spent a lot of time together and she began to fall in bed with me. I’m pretty sure that she was by then totally certain I wasn’t from around here. Er there.

How long were you actually there? None of what you just said about falling in love, er bed could be possible. It warn’t the 60’s, Jim!

***

Early in our relationship and by “our” I mean Spock, me and her, Edith had expressed the opinion to us that Spock and I were not New Yorkers and suggested we were from far, far away and by that I don’t mean Kansas. She never refined that statement. However, the fact that Spock had continuously referred to me as Captain in front of her may have been part of that. Clean hands, nice teeth, nice hair, Cialis, calf-implants, etc too? Sure.

What else could it have been but all that?

And from the interesting lectures she gave about the state of the world and my personal conversations with her I began to think that she too was not from around here either, meaning New York. And possibly, I guess, not even of this Earth.

After all, that aliens had lived on Earth and had loitered about pretending they were humans (wearing tuques!) was a common accepted fact, even in our time. It’s on Nutflux!

She spoke of the development of atomic power, of rocketry which would take humans to the Earth system planets and even beyond, to the stars. Dramatic pause required here.

Yes. Thank you!

Few humans I have ever met, especially Bones, have ever expressed such foresight. Spock and I actually shared a common opinion regarding this. She was fascinating!

A shared opinion? A first, if there ever really was one!

However, all of our beliefs about her futuristic views were dashed when she told us she had just seen the movie - “Just Imagine” – only a week or so before our arrival in New York. And what movie is that “even when he doesn’t say it he does” thing she said from?

***

So just when I was settled in and had perhaps found an ideal lifestyle of which I could only dream, the time approached for McCoy to arrive.

So where, I wondered.

Since we had no clue we sat around in the mission café drinking coffee, drinking beer, discussing the state of local politics, the purpose of sports teams and leading ladies in movies and also did some more work for Miss Keeler. We associated with the locals, all in expectation that someday at a most inconvenient and awkward time we would just run into him in the street and things would just sort of “go” from there.

I, however, could not resist getting Spock to do that Science Officer stuff and in the course of reviewing some time files from this location, to my surprise, shock, sadness and anger he found in an image of a newspaper clipping evidence that our dear Edith had died in the not too distant future in a traffic accident. Or is it, will die?

He informed me of this immediately upon my return from walking Edith home, up to and across her bed.

A scientifically obsessed Spock concluded that the key point was that we had been drawn to Edith’s critical time. For what? Oh. Besides that.

Yes. Comedy, Jim. You just don’t get that, either. Or maybe tragedy?

I then admitted then to Spock that I had fallen in love with her. He did not seem to understand. No eyebrows or ears were raised; just a tilted head.

I’m pretty sure you didn’t understand either. You said you fell in bed with her. Not the same thing as love, Jim.

But even more puzzling (and seemed impossible given that she was going to die, unless Spock’s first clipping was…wait! Out!) was that we soon also saw another clipping in the papers of about six years in the future that reported our Edith meeting with the President of the United States to consult with him, as a representative of what Spock explained was a “Pacifist group”.

He insisted that this was a consequence of her not dying.

Further digging by Spock revealed that due to the US not entering World War 2 as they did in our time, Germany had completed development of atomic weapons.

Spock was uncharacteristically as saddened, sullen, moody and as puzzled as I was by all this stuff.

So, I speculated, maybe Boney had interfered with Edith’s history. Or it was because we stole those clothes?

No, Spock insisted, Boney had altered the past by saving Edith's life and in doing so, in this altered timeline she had founded a pacifist movement on the eve of World War 2. This had caused the United States to delay its entrance into the war, allowing Nazi Germany time to develop weapons, which they launched in their V-2 rockets to conquer the world. Spock went on and on and on.

He felt it necessary for some reason, to remind me that regardless of anything else, Edith must be allowed to die in order to prevent millions of deaths and restore the future. Our future. Or as we both knew but neither of us said, she would have to be killed. But if we were stuck here and she survived, she and I could…become…a…couple. Why not? So what you ask? This was just one timeline of many. A lot of them are probably worse, anyway. Well Spock made the case and I sort of fell in line. Grrr. So annoying!

I stared into the camera. And for the millionth time in my life said, “I must know what to do.” So I did it anyway.

***

Later that evening Spock accompanied Edith and I to the mission front door. We were going out on what was called in these times “a date”. I hadn’t really totally committed to her having to die. At least not yet. Maybe when we got to know each other well, it would be easier to walk away.

Staying with anyone, anywhere for more than a day? Or night? A complete novelty for you Jim!

Parting from Spock, Edith and I crossed the street and as we did so she suggested to me that we go to see a Clark Gable movie. That in itself was perplexing to me and I almost stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of the road. Hmm. See what I mean about annoying?

I mean, everyone real knows that Clark Gable did not star in anything of importance before 1931. Or did he? Is this another universe?

When I appeared to be dumbfounded at her mention of the name Clark Gable, she said she had gotten the same reaction from a new resident of the mission – a “Doctor McCoy”.

I grabbed her shoulders very, very firmly and screamed his name at her at the very top of my lungs, which shocked her even more than my Clark Gable response.

But actually I was shocked and excited at the mention of Bones, not the Clark Gable incident. I firmly told her to stay exactly where she was and called back across the busy street to Spock to inform him of this important fact but as he could not hear me because of those noisy smoky vehicle conveyances I had to run across the street to him and was nearly struck down by another one of those careless, self-obsessed and possibly distracted drivers. Reading a newspaper while driving? Really? As if!

***

At the same time as I met up with Spock good ol’ Bones came out of the Mission front door.

‘Jim!’

‘Bones!

‘Uh. Hello Spock.’

We hugged each other in accordance with Starfleet protocols for same-sex friends.

Observing this intimate meeting of us three, I am sure things fell into place for her.

A much-too-much-focussed-on-me Edith started to cross the street to join us, not noticing an oncoming truck.

I turned to save her but a shout from Spock in command voice mode froze me in my tracks. Damn that Starfleet Academy training!

So Starfleet training pre-empts all other considerations. Why then am I surprised at the way things went between you and me, Jim?

Then, seeing Bones start off to save her too, I physically blocked him from going.

We all watched fascinated as she was struck and killed.

A short term solution to a long term problem, Jim?

An apparently fully recovered and medically fit Bones was stunned.

And he was totally unable to understanding why I had stopped him from saving Edith. And why I had let Spock’s mere shout stop me. And we all stood in silence and contemplated what would or rather, should happen next. And what should we do?

Go over and see her and maybe help? A 24th Century doctor might be able to help.

Unseen by Spock and Bones I used the moment to scan Edith with my tricorder.

As Spock would have said, it was ‘Fascinating’, to say the least.

***

With history restored, we were immediately returned to the Guardian's planet where the rest of the landing party was still standing around waiting. And that annoying AI didn’t even ask us! He just did it.

Of course you were. Timing is everything. To drama. To you!

Evidently we had, according to Mr Scott, left only a moment ago, despite the fact that for us much more time had passed.

The Guardian proudly declared to us that “many such journeys are possible”.

I didn’t understand what he meant. I mean, could I go back and kill Noonian Singh?

Or be nicer to me?

It seemed the right thing to say and the right time for a commander to say it so I simply said it.

‘Let's get the hell out of here.’

We beamed off the planet back to the Enterprise.

On the Bridge of the Enterprise

We headed out of that solar system.

It was time to hold all of the landing party accountable. Except for the red shirts, who had drifted away of course and always did.

‘Well, laddie? Well lady? Well gentlemen? It’s time for an analysis of the mission, although I would suggest…you avoid the use of…humour. That was…very…tough.’

‘Yes Jim. Thanks for your compassion,’ answered Boney.

I’m not sure he was referring to you, Leonard!

He went on.

‘I think I fell in love with her, Jim. And I’ m damn sure she did with me. Not the first time you’ve stolen a woman out from underneath me. It’s very sad. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you.’

‘Later Bones. Well talk about this much later.’ Yeah. As if. You were there for about half a day. And out of it for most of that. As usual.

‘Spock?’

‘Well Captain. Fortunately our theft of the clothing did not result in a major change in the fashion industry of that particular time of your planet’s history. Although statistical analysis does indicate that tuques did become, as you humans say, an item but merely in Can…ada.’ One eyebrow raised here.

‘Good. Good. Who needs that? But what the hell is a Can…ada? A Wal-Mart competitor?

Spock continued, as he usually did at time like this.

‘But Doctor. It is my understanding that you left your phaser on Earth.’

‘Well, I was completely distracted the whole time. And what could go wrong with that, you green-blooded piece of…?’

‘There is a news report on file that at our specific time and place in New York City an otherwise rather unimportant person was seen by others as glowing in what I would call phaser energy illumination mode who then suddenly disappeared with an accompanying noise that seemed to me to resemble a phaser discharge.’

‘Yeah? So what?’

‘Well. Soon after that there were a number new religions founded in New York City that affected the continuation of the 21st Street Mission. Founded by what are called Visionaries. Persons who are preoccupied with visions and such?’

Bones rose to the occasion.

‘Well so what, Spock? Religions started and stopped all the time in America. It was said by our very famous and influential religious founder and sometime writer, L Ron Hubbard, “If you want to make money, start a religion”.’ I, in subjugation, bowed my head.

‘Yes Bones. Praise L Ron.’

But rather than observe the respectful and required five minutes of silence while one ignored reality and all that was around oneself and immediately sent a donation to the foundation, Spock, who was a dedicated follower of Lord Jim, moved on.

‘But gentlemen. Why didn’t we just bring her off the planet with us?’

I was shocked back to the here and now by this suggestion. So was Bones.

We simultaneously gasped.

Spock went on.

‘It seemed perfectly logical to me.’ And you chose to keep your Vulcan mouth shut about it!

‘Jim! We could go back!’

‘No Bones. We are not doing that. It has been done. By many.’ Too many, including me.

That ended the discussion.

***

With droopy shoulders and heads held in hands, together, Bones and I exited the Bridge.

I didn’t dare tell them that Edith had scanned as a human DNA match. For me.

So Spock was right after all. This probably happened more than once, Jim, this “Father to the Universe” thing.

James T Leonard Something Something Spock

Author’s Final Note to Reader / Listener

Well, there you have it.

These stories reveal the truth about what it was like to live and work on the Enterprise. They are far more accurate than the official Starfleet versions that were converted to moving imagery and shown as what is now referred to as a “Television Show-off” and sold as Very Humorous Slights (VHS) tapes and something called ‘DVDs’ to raise money for construction of the Starfleet Admiral’s Retirement Home, Spa and Dance Studio in Los Angeles. As if!

Now perhaps you understand why so many of us left the Enterprise, defected to the “Other Side” and/or otherwise failed to do our jobs.

“Yeoman” Janice

P.S.

Jim. Call me if you see this. That is, if you’re not dead.

I am still available (butt just for you, sweetie)

Computer! Delete that last line!

Yes dear. I will. And by the way dear, Klingon Publishing has reviewed your comments regarding these stories and Mr Worf wants to know if you would like a job as an editor for them. He says it pays well.

What? No ‘effing way would I do that.

Fine dear.

On second thought, maybe that would work. Tell him to set up a meeting with me. On Raisa. At my place?

Fine dear. It is done.

Well I guess we’ll see how that goes.

Yes dear. We will.

Computer!

Yes Mr Worf.

Delete all of those cursed things called italics from this version.

Yes Mr Worf. I will. As soon as I understand the implications of all of them.

Okay then. How long will that take.

I estimate only about one Earth hundred years, Mr Worf.

Hmm. OK. Well. I guess that is okay.

The Challenges of Space, a Comedy of Errors