Long Way Home part eleven
Part Eleven
The space dock was suspiciously empty when Jim exited the Enterprise. He was flanked by Bones and Spock, with Uhura, Sulu and Chekov trailing behind them.
“Well,” Jim hitched up the bag in his hand. “I guess this is where we find our rides out of here.”
“This way,” Uhura stepped forward. Jim waited for Spock to follow her when Bones took Jim’s elbow and started to pull him along.
“Hey. Hey, now,” Jim sputtered.
“Lieutenant Uhura has invited us to her home in Cairo,” Chekov said from behind them.
“Wait - what?”
“Nyota has been kind enough to extend an invitation to the senior staff,” Spock said, one hand planted in the small of Jim’s back. “Come along, Jim.”
“Wait a goddamn minute here…”
“Jim,” Uhura cast a look over her shoulder. “My mother would like to meet the captain of my ship. You are going to meet her.”
“I - your ship -”
“Say yes, Jim,” Bones said.
“Hey!”
Jim spent the transport to Cairo finding either Bones or Spock in his way to the nearest exit.
“You two should spend some alone time,” Jim had hissed at Spock half way over the Atlantic.
“Alone time, Captain?”
“God, you’re meeting her mom, Spock.”
“I have already met Nyota’s mother.”
Jim stared. “Then why the hell are we here?”
“As Nyota said -”
“You two should like,” Jim flailed his arms. “Be alone. Do date things. Couple’s things.”
Spock’s brows drew together. “I believe you are functioning under the assumption that Nyota and I are still in a romantic relationship.”
“…You’re not?”
“No, Jim.”
Jim sat and shut the hell up for the rest of the ride. His head was buzzing in a strange way. He couldn’t seem to pin down a thought for long enough to finish it in his head. Weird.
Uhura’s mom was a plump woman with a thick coil of braids bound up with a multitude of ribbons. She hung onto her daughter for a long moment as they exited the transport and then homed in on Jim.
“Mrs. Uhura,” Jim didn’t know if he should shake her hand or bow or something. The older Uhura had a serene grace that was almost regal.
Mrs. Uhura shocked him when he was gathered up in a hug like her daughter’s. He froze, shoulders aching from the effort not to break free. He breathed a sigh of relief as he was released. “I am so pleased to meet you,” she said, patting his cheek before moving on. The others all received the same treatment, even Spock. Chekov got his cheeks pinched and from the way Sulu jumped, Jim could bet that he got goosed. Scotty had the shortest hug - Jim hadn’t even realized the Scotsman was even with them.
His crew. So damn weird.
Uhura’s family home was a sprawling complex that had a fine view of the glass and metal metropolis that was downtown Cairo. From the roof they could see parts of ancient ruins breaking the modern façade here and there.
Mrs. Uhura fed them to an inch of bursting. Jim collapsed on a courtyard chair after a decadent dessert, too full to consider moving back to his room.
The others were still clustered around the tables in the inner courtyard. The shielded dome over the house kept the heat out, but let the twilight take over the pale stucco walls. A fireplace spilled light onto his crew and small lights turned on around the perimeter.
The younger Uhura joined Jim on the lounge chair next to him.
“This is a beautiful place,” he told her.
“My grandfather rebuilt this area,” Uhura swung her legs up onto the chair. “I grew up here with a horde of my cousins. My grandparents wanted the whole family to be close.”
“Where are they now?”
“In Starfleet,” a shadow passed across her face. “I lost two cousins in the massacre near Vulcan.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim had had no idea.
Uhura shook her head. “The rest are out on duty. My mother had my uncles take my grandparents on vacation.”
“You shouldn’t have -”
“Jim.”
Jim ducked his head. “It was very kind of you.”
Uhura drew in a breath, held it and then blew it out in a rush. “The trial ends on Friday,” she said.
“Yes.”
“The Admirals want us at Starfleet at the week’s end.”
“Pretty short visit with your mom.”
“I thought…we could all come back,” Uhura was focused on the mosaic wall in front of them. “Those who wanted to, at least.”
“…If we wouldn’t be putting anyone out.”
“No, no,” she drew in a breath. “My family would like to meet you all,” she smiled. “I’m the highest ranked Uhura serving. My grandfather is very proud.”
“I bet he is.”
“Just don’t stand down wind,” she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “And if he invites you to the mosque, do not kneel behind him.”
Jim threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jim kept as far away from a vid screen for the entire time leading up to their requested meeting with the Admirals. They had gone the night before, staying in a nice hotel in the heart of old San Francisco. Bones hadn’t let Jim out of his sight, so they had had to console each other with the contents of the room’s mini bar and the handy hypos Bones had been smart enough to pack for that very occasion.
The gods seemed to be with them. Pike was chairing Jim’s competence committee. What followed was the most grueling oral report Jim had ever given. Admirals Archer and Macintyre were nowhere to be seen.
Pike gave Jim a wink as they thanked Jim for his report and dismissed him. Jim left the room drained and ready for a very tall glass of something alcoholic.
“Jim!” Someone called before Jim could find Bones and direct them to the nearest bar.
Charlie Macintyre was headed straight for Jim. “Captain Macintyre,” Jim tried for a smile.
“Jim,” Charlie’s grin was a touch forced. “It’s Charlie to you,” he said with a glance. God. It was going to be like that. Jim rubbed a thumb over his eyebrow.
“Charlie,” Jim drew in a breath. “Look, it’s been a hell of a day and -”
“Yeah, sorry about this,” Charlie broke in, taking Jim’s elbow. Jim frowned and tried to jerk away. He got a hypo to the neck for his troubles.
In Starfleet headquarters? Was all Jim had the chance to think as the world went dark.
“He’s coming around.”
“Check the bindings.”
“Are the drugs ready?”
Interrogation? Jim blinked his blurry vision into focus. His captors were all human. Clean cut and with a disturbing regularity to their haircuts.
Admiral Macintyre appeared in the door. “Is he awake?”
Of all the stupid people, Jim rolled his eyes. This was almost epic on the scale of stupidity. Bones was going to be so pissed at him.
“James Kirk. I warned you,” Macintyre glowered at Jim. The man heaved his rotund self into the bare concrete room. Jim noted the drain in the center of the floor with distaste. How much more cliché could they get?
The answer was - very.
Jim tuned out most of Macintyre’s grandiose speech. Blah, blah, corrupted his son. Blah, blah, fucked his way to glory. Blah, blah - wait, what?
“You fucked my mom?”
The backhand he got wasn’t unexpected. I guess that answers some of my questions, Jim blinked away the dots in his vision. It was a pretty standard torture session from there on out. Jim couldn’t quite understand just what Macintyre wanted from the whole thing.
“You’re really dumb,” Jim told the gloating man as Henchman One got out the knives.
“Do you even have a point?” Jim panted out later, after Henchman two was done breaking the bones in his left hand. Jim was occupied with screaming after that, too busy with the pain to understand the rapid fire questions they sent his way. Unconsciousness seemed like the best bet, so when the darkness came up to claim him, he didn’t fight it at all.
Jim woke, later, to a familiar smell. The soft sounds of a Starfleet medical bay were pretty standard everywhere he went.
“Jim,” Bones was there. McCoy still had on his dress uniform, creased and wrinkled in places, dark bags under his eyes.
“What the fuck,” Jim managed. “Why do I get the stupid criminals?”
That forced a laugh from Bones. “You have a point.”
The doors whisked open. Spock was there. He, too, was in his dress blacks. “Jim?”
“Awake,” Bones said.
“Not dead yet,” Jim agreed.
Spock joined Bones at Jim’s bedside. “I am cognizant of a disturbing pattern emerging, Jim.”
“Hah.”
“I foresee, however, a way to minimize such chances.”
“God, not now.”
“As you wish,” Spock bowed his head. Bones snorted and reached for his tricorder.
“What happened?” From the way his head felt, Jim could bet they were feeding him the good drugs.
“All of our reviews ran long,” Bones said as he ran the scanner over Jim. “When we got out, Pike was looking for you. No one had seen you after your review had let out. We checked the bars,” McCoy gave him a sour look. “Scotty even commandeered the whole tracking lab. No one could find you. Then the news stations started playing some stupid reel over and over again, how that you were claiming all responsibility for your stepfather’s condition, blah, blah.”
“So that’s what he wanted,” Jim said.
“Looks like your mom’s been buttering up Macintyre for years.”
“I think she served on his ship when he was a captain.”
“Yes,” Spock said. “It was in her records.”
“Then a vid got released of your torture,” Bones’ mouth was set in a hard line. “Charlie Macintyre turned himself in. Led us to you. Admiral Macintyre committed suicide before we could stop him. The rest of the men were from Macintyre’s security crew.”
“Idiots,” Jim snorted.
“The media’s flaying your mom over an open fire,” Bones had a wide smile on his face. “Your brother’s gone silent. Grunberg’s been sentenced to the penal colony on Mercury.”
“Hah.”
“The Enterprise has received flying colors. We all have five star approvals on our reviews and you,” Bones poked Jim on the leg. “Are again the darling of the Federation.”
“Joy,” Jim twisted his mouth. “Can we go back to the Neutral Zone now?”
“Don’t you wish,” Bones glanced at Spock and then shrugged. “Watch him,” he told the Vulcan. “I got some hypos to fill.”
Jim stared at McCoy’s back until it was out of view. Then he looked to Spock. “What the hell?”
“Doctor McCoy believes I require some personal verification of your well being,” Spock’s gaze was focused on Jim’s.
“I’ll all right,” Jim made a face at the cast on his hand and shrugged. “I’ll be all right,” he amended. “Always am.”
Spock’s mouth was a flat line. “I…was most displeased by our failed attempted to locate your whereabouts.”
“I’m fine, Spock.”
Spock reached out and rested two fingers to the pulse point on Jim’s wrist. Jim felt a spark of heat flash through him, but forced it down. Drugs played havoc on his system. He was never good at keeping a good rein on the more wishful parts of his psyche when Bones pumped him full of the good stuff.
Spock’s expression had softened. The Vulcan pulled a chair up to Jim’s bedside, letting a hand curl around Jim’s wrist, Spock’s thumb resting right over the pulse point. Jim swallowed down a rush of wistful hope. Vulcans were weird. Everyone knew that. Maybe this was just more Spock-weirdness. He’d have to ask Uhura about it some time.
“Nyota was very concerned,” Spock said.
Jim blinked, wondering for a moment if he’d said anything out loud. “About what?” He had to focus on Spock’s face. He could have sworn the Vulcan smiled for a brief second.
“Nyota was most displeased with the communications staff in Starfleet Central. She was quite…forceful with her words when she took over the station.”
Jim managed a weak laugh. “Oh, man. Tell me someone got that on tape?”
“Mr. Scott, I believe, is selling copies.”
Jim chortled. “Tell me more.”
Jim fell asleep to the smooth rhythm of Spock’s voice and the steady sweep of Spock’s thumb over the fragile skin of his wrist.
“Captain on deck!”
Jim flashed Sulu a smile as he advanced on the Captain’s chair. “At ease,” he settled his still fragile body into the seat. It was good to be back. “Stations?”
“All green, Captain,” Spock said at his side.
“All right,” Jim smiled at them. His crew, so awesome. “We’ve got our orders. Let’s go.”
The End
Master post with links to all parts
The space dock was suspiciously empty when Jim exited the Enterprise. He was flanked by Bones and Spock, with Uhura, Sulu and Chekov trailing behind them.
“Well,” Jim hitched up the bag in his hand. “I guess this is where we find our rides out of here.”
“This way,” Uhura stepped forward. Jim waited for Spock to follow her when Bones took Jim’s elbow and started to pull him along.
“Hey. Hey, now,” Jim sputtered.
“Lieutenant Uhura has invited us to her home in Cairo,” Chekov said from behind them.
“Wait - what?”
“Nyota has been kind enough to extend an invitation to the senior staff,” Spock said, one hand planted in the small of Jim’s back. “Come along, Jim.”
“Wait a goddamn minute here…”
“Jim,” Uhura cast a look over her shoulder. “My mother would like to meet the captain of my ship. You are going to meet her.”
“I - your ship -”
“Say yes, Jim,” Bones said.
“Hey!”
Jim spent the transport to Cairo finding either Bones or Spock in his way to the nearest exit.
“You two should spend some alone time,” Jim had hissed at Spock half way over the Atlantic.
“Alone time, Captain?”
“God, you’re meeting her mom, Spock.”
“I have already met Nyota’s mother.”
Jim stared. “Then why the hell are we here?”
“As Nyota said -”
“You two should like,” Jim flailed his arms. “Be alone. Do date things. Couple’s things.”
Spock’s brows drew together. “I believe you are functioning under the assumption that Nyota and I are still in a romantic relationship.”
“…You’re not?”
“No, Jim.”
Jim sat and shut the hell up for the rest of the ride. His head was buzzing in a strange way. He couldn’t seem to pin down a thought for long enough to finish it in his head. Weird.
Uhura’s mom was a plump woman with a thick coil of braids bound up with a multitude of ribbons. She hung onto her daughter for a long moment as they exited the transport and then homed in on Jim.
“Mrs. Uhura,” Jim didn’t know if he should shake her hand or bow or something. The older Uhura had a serene grace that was almost regal.
Mrs. Uhura shocked him when he was gathered up in a hug like her daughter’s. He froze, shoulders aching from the effort not to break free. He breathed a sigh of relief as he was released. “I am so pleased to meet you,” she said, patting his cheek before moving on. The others all received the same treatment, even Spock. Chekov got his cheeks pinched and from the way Sulu jumped, Jim could bet that he got goosed. Scotty had the shortest hug - Jim hadn’t even realized the Scotsman was even with them.
His crew. So damn weird.
Uhura’s family home was a sprawling complex that had a fine view of the glass and metal metropolis that was downtown Cairo. From the roof they could see parts of ancient ruins breaking the modern façade here and there.
Mrs. Uhura fed them to an inch of bursting. Jim collapsed on a courtyard chair after a decadent dessert, too full to consider moving back to his room.
The others were still clustered around the tables in the inner courtyard. The shielded dome over the house kept the heat out, but let the twilight take over the pale stucco walls. A fireplace spilled light onto his crew and small lights turned on around the perimeter.
The younger Uhura joined Jim on the lounge chair next to him.
“This is a beautiful place,” he told her.
“My grandfather rebuilt this area,” Uhura swung her legs up onto the chair. “I grew up here with a horde of my cousins. My grandparents wanted the whole family to be close.”
“Where are they now?”
“In Starfleet,” a shadow passed across her face. “I lost two cousins in the massacre near Vulcan.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim had had no idea.
Uhura shook her head. “The rest are out on duty. My mother had my uncles take my grandparents on vacation.”
“You shouldn’t have -”
“Jim.”
Jim ducked his head. “It was very kind of you.”
Uhura drew in a breath, held it and then blew it out in a rush. “The trial ends on Friday,” she said.
“Yes.”
“The Admirals want us at Starfleet at the week’s end.”
“Pretty short visit with your mom.”
“I thought…we could all come back,” Uhura was focused on the mosaic wall in front of them. “Those who wanted to, at least.”
“…If we wouldn’t be putting anyone out.”
“No, no,” she drew in a breath. “My family would like to meet you all,” she smiled. “I’m the highest ranked Uhura serving. My grandfather is very proud.”
“I bet he is.”
“Just don’t stand down wind,” she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “And if he invites you to the mosque, do not kneel behind him.”
Jim threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jim kept as far away from a vid screen for the entire time leading up to their requested meeting with the Admirals. They had gone the night before, staying in a nice hotel in the heart of old San Francisco. Bones hadn’t let Jim out of his sight, so they had had to console each other with the contents of the room’s mini bar and the handy hypos Bones had been smart enough to pack for that very occasion.
The gods seemed to be with them. Pike was chairing Jim’s competence committee. What followed was the most grueling oral report Jim had ever given. Admirals Archer and Macintyre were nowhere to be seen.
Pike gave Jim a wink as they thanked Jim for his report and dismissed him. Jim left the room drained and ready for a very tall glass of something alcoholic.
“Jim!” Someone called before Jim could find Bones and direct them to the nearest bar.
Charlie Macintyre was headed straight for Jim. “Captain Macintyre,” Jim tried for a smile.
“Jim,” Charlie’s grin was a touch forced. “It’s Charlie to you,” he said with a glance. God. It was going to be like that. Jim rubbed a thumb over his eyebrow.
“Charlie,” Jim drew in a breath. “Look, it’s been a hell of a day and -”
“Yeah, sorry about this,” Charlie broke in, taking Jim’s elbow. Jim frowned and tried to jerk away. He got a hypo to the neck for his troubles.
In Starfleet headquarters? Was all Jim had the chance to think as the world went dark.
“He’s coming around.”
“Check the bindings.”
“Are the drugs ready?”
Interrogation? Jim blinked his blurry vision into focus. His captors were all human. Clean cut and with a disturbing regularity to their haircuts.
Admiral Macintyre appeared in the door. “Is he awake?”
Of all the stupid people, Jim rolled his eyes. This was almost epic on the scale of stupidity. Bones was going to be so pissed at him.
“James Kirk. I warned you,” Macintyre glowered at Jim. The man heaved his rotund self into the bare concrete room. Jim noted the drain in the center of the floor with distaste. How much more cliché could they get?
The answer was - very.
Jim tuned out most of Macintyre’s grandiose speech. Blah, blah, corrupted his son. Blah, blah, fucked his way to glory. Blah, blah - wait, what?
“You fucked my mom?”
The backhand he got wasn’t unexpected. I guess that answers some of my questions, Jim blinked away the dots in his vision. It was a pretty standard torture session from there on out. Jim couldn’t quite understand just what Macintyre wanted from the whole thing.
“You’re really dumb,” Jim told the gloating man as Henchman One got out the knives.
“Do you even have a point?” Jim panted out later, after Henchman two was done breaking the bones in his left hand. Jim was occupied with screaming after that, too busy with the pain to understand the rapid fire questions they sent his way. Unconsciousness seemed like the best bet, so when the darkness came up to claim him, he didn’t fight it at all.
Jim woke, later, to a familiar smell. The soft sounds of a Starfleet medical bay were pretty standard everywhere he went.
“Jim,” Bones was there. McCoy still had on his dress uniform, creased and wrinkled in places, dark bags under his eyes.
“What the fuck,” Jim managed. “Why do I get the stupid criminals?”
That forced a laugh from Bones. “You have a point.”
The doors whisked open. Spock was there. He, too, was in his dress blacks. “Jim?”
“Awake,” Bones said.
“Not dead yet,” Jim agreed.
Spock joined Bones at Jim’s bedside. “I am cognizant of a disturbing pattern emerging, Jim.”
“Hah.”
“I foresee, however, a way to minimize such chances.”
“God, not now.”
“As you wish,” Spock bowed his head. Bones snorted and reached for his tricorder.
“What happened?” From the way his head felt, Jim could bet they were feeding him the good drugs.
“All of our reviews ran long,” Bones said as he ran the scanner over Jim. “When we got out, Pike was looking for you. No one had seen you after your review had let out. We checked the bars,” McCoy gave him a sour look. “Scotty even commandeered the whole tracking lab. No one could find you. Then the news stations started playing some stupid reel over and over again, how that you were claiming all responsibility for your stepfather’s condition, blah, blah.”
“So that’s what he wanted,” Jim said.
“Looks like your mom’s been buttering up Macintyre for years.”
“I think she served on his ship when he was a captain.”
“Yes,” Spock said. “It was in her records.”
“Then a vid got released of your torture,” Bones’ mouth was set in a hard line. “Charlie Macintyre turned himself in. Led us to you. Admiral Macintyre committed suicide before we could stop him. The rest of the men were from Macintyre’s security crew.”
“Idiots,” Jim snorted.
“The media’s flaying your mom over an open fire,” Bones had a wide smile on his face. “Your brother’s gone silent. Grunberg’s been sentenced to the penal colony on Mercury.”
“Hah.”
“The Enterprise has received flying colors. We all have five star approvals on our reviews and you,” Bones poked Jim on the leg. “Are again the darling of the Federation.”
“Joy,” Jim twisted his mouth. “Can we go back to the Neutral Zone now?”
“Don’t you wish,” Bones glanced at Spock and then shrugged. “Watch him,” he told the Vulcan. “I got some hypos to fill.”
Jim stared at McCoy’s back until it was out of view. Then he looked to Spock. “What the hell?”
“Doctor McCoy believes I require some personal verification of your well being,” Spock’s gaze was focused on Jim’s.
“I’ll all right,” Jim made a face at the cast on his hand and shrugged. “I’ll be all right,” he amended. “Always am.”
Spock’s mouth was a flat line. “I…was most displeased by our failed attempted to locate your whereabouts.”
“I’m fine, Spock.”
Spock reached out and rested two fingers to the pulse point on Jim’s wrist. Jim felt a spark of heat flash through him, but forced it down. Drugs played havoc on his system. He was never good at keeping a good rein on the more wishful parts of his psyche when Bones pumped him full of the good stuff.
Spock’s expression had softened. The Vulcan pulled a chair up to Jim’s bedside, letting a hand curl around Jim’s wrist, Spock’s thumb resting right over the pulse point. Jim swallowed down a rush of wistful hope. Vulcans were weird. Everyone knew that. Maybe this was just more Spock-weirdness. He’d have to ask Uhura about it some time.
“Nyota was very concerned,” Spock said.
Jim blinked, wondering for a moment if he’d said anything out loud. “About what?” He had to focus on Spock’s face. He could have sworn the Vulcan smiled for a brief second.
“Nyota was most displeased with the communications staff in Starfleet Central. She was quite…forceful with her words when she took over the station.”
Jim managed a weak laugh. “Oh, man. Tell me someone got that on tape?”
“Mr. Scott, I believe, is selling copies.”
Jim chortled. “Tell me more.”
Jim fell asleep to the smooth rhythm of Spock’s voice and the steady sweep of Spock’s thumb over the fragile skin of his wrist.
“Captain on deck!”
Jim flashed Sulu a smile as he advanced on the Captain’s chair. “At ease,” he settled his still fragile body into the seat. It was good to be back. “Stations?”
“All green, Captain,” Spock said at his side.
“All right,” Jim smiled at them. His crew, so awesome. “We’ve got our orders. Let’s go.”
The End
Master post with links to all parts