Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (9/23)
Title: "The Needs of the Few"
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8,489 for chapter 9
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?
Notes: So... epic fail in my plans to post this in a timely manner. The semester kicked my ass. I got no sleep, and by the end of it, I was a nervous wreck. But I've completed my EMT class, my knee is healing, and I've finished my work contract. I'm taking a bit of time off... partly to do my national registry testing, apply for jobs, and other responsible stuff... but also to relax, recover, and indulge in the hobbies I've missed so much. Of course, that includes finishing this story. The rest of it is coming in short order. I hope it's been worth the wait.
Happy Christmas. :)
Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven, Eight
Chapter 9
Jim swore his skin tingled if he stood close enough to the protective barriers around the warp core. Sure, he’d personally checked the radiation and energy sensor readings around the core, and he knew it was absolutely safe, but there was still something about that much raw power that was intoxicating. Not to mention, the engineers were a hoot. Sven, his sociopathic roommate from last spring, seemed to be an anomaly amongst them. Yeah, Jim was pretty sure that if he hadn’t already been completely set on command and tactics, he’d join the Engineering branch without a second thought.
But for now, Engineering was being set aside. Jim had only been on the warp core team for two days, and it wasn’t enough, but he’d finish that rotation later. All cadets had been pulled out of their current rotations for Security training and landing party briefings.
They’d arrived in orbit around Araxis.
The next week or more would be a whirlwind of security and diplomacy assignments. Barring unforeseen circumstances, Finney told them they’d be going down to the surface at least three times. The first time would be for the welcoming ceremony, and the others would probably be for various security assignments or maybe a tour of the main city. If he could finagle it, he’d try to get them into the Parliament building so they could witness some of the negotiations and discussions.
Now that would be something to write home about.
Most crew members - real crew members - weren’t even going down to the surface at all, and here were a bunch of cadets, getting to go down not once, but three times? For an event like this? All in the name of, as Finney had put it, “an unparalleled training opportunity”?
Oh hell yeah.
It was definitely worth leaving the warp engines behind.
The cadets had woken up early to catch breakfast in the mess before the first briefing, which would start at 0600 hours. It was an early morning, but the excitement was enough that the early hour didn’t bother Jim at all. Based on the bleary eyes and lack of discussion over breakfast, he and Herrera were the only ones who didn’t mind.
Nadeau had pounded down three cups of coffee and left the table to get to the briefing room early. To the guy’s credit, he’d stayed up late re-reading the entire mission brief. Jim had found him asleep on top of his blankets with his face flattened on the screen of his PADD. The guy still had the imprint from the screen on his forehead. Nobody had told him.
Herrera and Buhari had followed him a moment later, talking rapidly about the chance to see new scientific and engineering marvels. Wilcox hadn’t wanted to leave her coffee until the last possible moment, and Liu seemed indifferent, so the three of them had sat around the breakfast table, absorbing caffeine and watching the chrono until they had no choice but to run to the briefing.
Jim crammed the last bite of his toast into his mouth as stepped out of the turbolift with Wilcox and Liu, and they saw Finney standing at the door of the briefing room. He was wearing a broad grin.
He clapped a couple of times, looking far too energetic for that hour of the morning. “Come on, guys, the real party is just about to begin here! One morning of briefings, and then we get to step foot on a new planet. The climate is supposed to be vacation-perfect this season. Wilcox, you look like you need some more coffee.”
She groaned lightly, not even bothering to deny the fact that she had deep circles under her eyes and was practically dragging her heels. “Lieutenant Kim kept me up late last night, sir. Goldberg and I messed up the energy grid on deck three, and -”
Finney held up a hand, stopping her. “Excuses, cadet?”
“Never, sir,” she said without missing a beat. “Just an explanation. I’m here on time anyway, right?”
Jim chuckled to himself, vaguely wondering how many cups of coffee it was taking to get Bones through his crazy schedule.
Finney just gave her an easy smile. “As long as you can stay awake. Besides, it’s good that Kim is working you hard. You’ll learn a lot on that team. But for now... adventure awaits. Get your tails in there.”
They filed into the briefing room, and Jim almost stopped short in surprise. Almost.
Grinning broadly, he sauntered over to the back corner of the room where Bones was clutching his coffee canteen and scowling blearily. He elbowed Bones lightly as he sat down, which only made Bones scowl harder. “I take it you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Jim said in a low tone.
“For your information,” came the gravely reply, “I’ve been awake since yesterday at 1500, and it’s been....” He shook his head. “We’ll talk after the briefing.”
Jim nodded slowly, sympathizing. He wasn’t trying to mock his red-eyed friend. Really. “Sure, but... why are you at this meeting?”
Bones graced him with a tolerant eye-roll. “What’s my rank, Jim?”
“Cadet.”
“See? You are a genius,” he said with his thickest sarcastic drawl, before taking a swig of his coffee. “All the cadets who got accepted to this internship get to go along for this little joyride... including me.”
Jim frowned. “But they’re short-staffed in sickbay.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He tipped back his canteen again, then shook his head. “It’ll be fine.”
There was something in Bones’ expression... he had something else on his mind, but it seemed like the sort of something that required a distraction approach. Jim gave him a sideways look. “You know you’re not supposed to bring drinks in here.”
Bones took another sip of his coffee, swallowed, and said, “Funny, that’s what the Lieutenant out there said, too.”
“Finney?” Jim’s felt his eyes widen just a bit. “How’d you get it past him?”
At that, Bones raised an eyebrow, staring at the canteen in his hands. “I may have implied that it was medically necessary for my sanity, and that removing this stimulant from my possession would have dire consequences.” He looked back at Jim, giving the appearance of being just a touch crazed.
Jim nodded vaguely. “Uh... right.”
The only reply was a grumble, drowned by another swig of coffee.
Jim was beginning to hope the meeting would start five seconds ago when the door slid open.
Finney burst into the room, still looking far too energetic, with another Lieutenant in an Ops uniform following him. The cadets stood (Bones may have groaned in the process) as the security officer took the front of the room. Finney stood off to the side.
The Lieutenant turned a sharp gaze over the room. Short brown hair, and the obvious remnants of a natural tan from before the mission started. She wasn’t particularly tall, and there was nothing overt about her that seemed imposing, but between the muscled shoulders and the way she carried herself, Jim got the impression that she could twist him into a pretzel. He wasn’t about to test it, either.
Her expression softened slightly, and she nodded. “Good morning, cadets. I’m Lieutenant Voorhs. I’m one of the section leaders in Security, directly under Security Chief Gaynes. He’s more than occupied babysitting a bunch of diplomats -” she let a grin crack through “- so I get to babysit a bunch of cadets.”
Jim felt himself relax a bit. Next to him, he heard Bones’ classic long-suffering sigh.
At the front of the room, Lieutenant Voorhs activated the computer display and pulled up a map of the planet’s largest continent. “The people of Araxis have settled several regions across the main continent, mostly in small farming and research communities. Our mission will be isolated to the Araxian capital city.” The map zoomed in on a region near the southeastern coast of the continent, and resolved into a grid of city streets. “We’ll be covering all the basic security concerns for the duration of the mission, as well as specific roles you might be expected to play between schmoozing with the delegates. This is a training mission for you, so you’re going to be involved with various security functions as we go.”
Jim sat up a little bit straighter. He’d expected to be a passive observer, making small-talk and trying not to cause an interstellar incident. This? Was much better.
Voorhs continued talking. “While a security officer’s entire job is about planning for security, it’s also an important consideration for every member of Starfleet, especially during a landing party. Someday, most of you will be working hand-in-hand with security personnel to plan missions. This time, you get to play the pawns yourselves.”
The map zoomed in to the parliament building and other major structures around the settlement. The maps had just been updated with data from the Araxians, which showed far more detail. It was incredibly impressive. It was a settlement of only 200 years, and they not only had a complete advanced infrastructure, but also multiple towns and smaller settlements across a sizable region of the main continent. Jim wondered how many Axanar had originally gone to Araxis, how fast they reproduced, and how much technology they’d brought with them. The original records from Axanar had been sparse. And he wondered what their world would be like if the Axanar hadn’t reestablished contact.
Jim cast a sideways glance at Bones... who was staring solemnly at the screen, and frowning. He had that same look as before the briefing started - the one that said he had other things on his mind. Carefully, Jim leaned an elbow into Bones’ arm, and when Bones looked sideways at him, Jim furrowed his eyebrows in the universally recognized sign for, What gives?
Bones shot him back a look with a barely-visible shake of the head, which Jim knew to mean, Not now, Jim!
“Gentlemen? Is there something relevant to the security of this mission that you wish to share with your fellow cadets, your instructor, and myself?” Lieutenant Voorhs was drilling holes through them with her eyes. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips, and Jim was starting to fear that he might yet experience that pretzel-like shape, and he probably wouldn’t like it. Yeah... never try to get away with anything in front of a good security officer.
Jim opened his mouth to apologize, but Bones cut in before he could get a word out.
“Sir, how sure are we that the Araxian intel is good enough to base security protocols on?”
Jim felt his jaw drop as he gawked at his friend. What the hell did Bones know about security protocols? For that matter, what did he care? “Bones?”
“Shut yer mouth, Jim.” Bones said, in an undertone. “If there’s a fly on this ship, you’ll catch it.”
Voorhs, for her part, was giving them both a searching look. She seemed to be debating several possible things to say, and finally let her hands fall to her sides. “Cadets,” she said, addressing the whole room, but looking at Bones, “We’re never sure if our intel is good enough. And we always have to plan as if our intel isn’t good at all. We get information, and we make the best educated guesses that we can. We have to bend for the needs of diplomacy, account for the variables, and prepare for the possibility of complete disaster... for every mission we run.” She gave a slight nod. “This mission is no exception. Does that answer your question, Cadet?”
Jim expected Bones to answer and just let the matter drop, but instead, Bones pressed his lips together and got that expression of his that threatened a more terrifying debate than a Tellarite could give.
Huh. That was an idea. Bones debating a Tellarite. Jim mentally filed that away as something he had to see before he died.
But right now, he was worried about living long enough to see the surface of Araxis. “Bones?” Jim whispered, not that anyone in the room didn’t hear him. “Come on, man, what the hell?”
Finney stepped forward. “Is there something you need to tell us, McCoy?” he asked, and it had none of the sarcastic tone that Voorhs had used.
Bones opened his mouth, cast one last sideways glance at Jim, then squared his shoulders and stood. “I’m a doctor, not a command or ops cadet. I know security and command and tactics and stuff aren’t my specialty, but -”
“Ah, you’re the medical cadet.”
Bones bristled just slightly. “Not just a medical cadet. It’s Doctor McCoy. And... it’s just that... aw, hell, I don’t know what I’m allowed to say here.”
Voorhs narrowed her eyes just slightly. “I believe I may know what you’re talking about. I’ve already received that briefing, McCoy, and we’ve taken that information into account for our plans. And while I appreciate your concern over our safety protocols, yes, we do know what we’re doing. I was up most of the night myself, reworking the security protocols with Chief Gaynes based on that information. Thank you for your work last night, but... really, we’ve got this under control. As you said... security isn’t your specialty.”
Bones gave a thinly proper, “Thank you, sir,” as he sat back down, and if Jim knew Bones (which he did), that man’s mind was racing.
So was Jim’s. What sort of work had Bones done last night? What could he have done that ended up in a security briefing? And why did Jim feel like he was going to jump out of his skin if he didn’t find out for himself?
One last glare from Bones stifled any inclination Jim had to push him for information during the meeting.
He’d grill Bones as soon as they broke for lunch.
*********
Jim was pretty sure his head was swimming by the time they were dismissed from the security briefings. Sure, he knew security was more than a bunch of chumps beating each other up, and he’d taken Basic Security and Tactical Ops Security classes at the Academy, but damn, there was a lot for these people to consider in a real mission, especially the officers.
Still, all that information wasn’t enough to drown out Jim’s burning curiosity about what the hell was going on with Bones. As soon as they were a few paces away from the door, heading (Jim assumed) towards the mess hall for lunch, he turned towards Bones to begin drilling his best friend for details. Before he could say a word, however, Bones’ hand latched onto his upper arm in a claw-like vice grip, and he found himself tugged down a different corridor.
“Ow! Bones, where are we going? And what the hell was -”
“Put a sock in it, Jim. We’re going to my quarters.”
“But the mess hall...” Jim cast a desperate glance back over his shoulder, thinking of everyone else headed down for lunch. “Come on, if we don’t eat now, we won’t get a chance until after the welcome ceremony, and that could be hours!”
“There’s more important things than stuffing your gullet, kid.”
“I know, and I figured I’d ask you over lunch... was that about Doctor Br - !”
Bones’ free hand clamped over his mouth, none too gently. “Dammit, Jim, you really don’t know how to shut up!” he hissed.
“Mmmphfff.”
“That’s better.”
They rounded another corner to a second set of turbolifts, and Jim swore Bones looked back over his shoulder before getting into the ‘lift. “Deck eight.”
“Bones?”
“Wait, Jim.”
It was less than a minute, but it seemed to take forever before they were securely ensconced in Bones’ quarters. Jim sat down in one of the armchairs, but Bones didn’t. In fact, the guy started pacing. Fucking pacing.
“Bones.” The man kept pacing, and Jim tilted his head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding... Bones!”
Bones stopped mid-pace, almost stumbling. Two owlish, slightly bloodshot eyes blinked back at him.
Jim sighed. “You’re making me dizzy just watching you. So sit down before you fall over and I have to drag your sorry ass to your bunk.” Damn, this felt like a role reversal. “And tell me what the hell is going on here.”
Leonard shook his head and resumed pacing. “It’s classified and I’m not supposed to say a word about any of this.”
“And since when has that stopped either of us from discussing things?” He shook his head, thinking about what he’d told Bones about Brex’s deleted messages, even though he shouldn’t have said a word. But it was true - they never could keep anything from each other. “Come on, Bones... you brought me down here to tell me, so just spill it already. What happened with Doctor Brex?”
It was like someone flipped a power switch. The look of sheer exhaustion that Bones had held at bay during the briefings seemed to crash down on him. It was mingled with thick, nervous energy, and he seemed like he was running on fumes but unable to let himself land.
Jim decided not to use that metaphor aloud.
With a weary grunt, Bones dropped himself into the other armchair. “The Vulcan Ambassador came to sickbay last night while I was on-shift.”
“The Vulcan... wait, there’s a Vulcan onboard?” Jim felt a flash of excitement. “That’s great, Bones! They’re touch-telepaths with really specialized mental disciplines... the Ambassador might be able to figure out what’s wrong with Doctor Brex... what?”
Bones had closed his eyes, and was slowly, deliberately beating the back of his head against the cushion of his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Encyclopedia Gallactica, rogue genius and professional pest. Yes, you’re smarter than me, I know.”
Taken more than slightly aback, Jim blinked as though he’d been slapped. Why would his scant knowledge of Vulcans, little more than from his Federation Cultures class had taught him, make Bones upset? “Bones... I’m... sorry, just... tell me what the Ambassador said.”
Bones sighed. “You’re right. She did this touch-telepathy thing. She said it wasn’t a mind-melt or mind-meld or whatever they call it, but she sat up at the head of the biobed, touched his temples, and kinda went into some sort of trance. Sat there for a good while. It was the strangest thing I’ve seen in a good long while.”
“I guess you haven’t seen Ensign Zreen yet.”
“Jim.”
“Sorry.”
Bones shifted in his chair to face Jim a little bit more. Damn, he looked even more exhausted now. “She said he’s not fully unconscious under there, so there’s some awareness... but he’s confused and disoriented.”
“Can’t she help him get... uh... oriented?”
Bones shook his head, his frown deepening. “She’s not a Healer. She only knows some basics, so she had to get special permission from the Vulcan Council of Healers, and then... only to assess him. Not to treat him. And I understand why. I wouldn’t let some random idiot perform surgery with nothing more than first aid training.”
“Thanks, Bones,” Jim said, jokingly acting stung.
“Wasn’t talkin’ about you, kid. But this is the same deal. She’s got the equivalent of first aid training, and the mind is a delicate thing. Brex is a telepath, with a brain structure I’ve only seen in medical databases until now, and until we know how he was injured, we can’t even begin to consider treating the injury.” A ghost of a sly smile crossed his face. “And that would be like sending our hypothetical first aid idiot to do surgery without even telling him what was wrong.”
“I’ll make sure the idiots leave stuff like surgery to the experts,” Jim said dryly. “But Bones... that’s not what’s got you so worked up. I know you.”
“Yeah, Jim.” The faint smile disappeared without a trace. “So Ambassador T’Val said he was confused, and disoriented. He wasn’t really sure if he was awake or asleep. And... she said there were gaps.”
Jim frowned. “Gaps? Like his memory? Didn’t you tell me that he’d forgotten asking to meet you early that morning?”
Bones nodded. “And that he seemed to remember just before he passed out.” He rubbed a hand roughly over his face and jaw. “Based on the areas of the brain with the odd electrical activity, it makes sense that there are memory gaps. T’Val couldn’t tell me what he was actually missing, which makes sense, but simply that she sensed that his recent memories had been... scrambled.”
Jim nodded slowly. He knew where this was going. “And you think his memories were scrambled by someone.”
“I don’t have a scrap of proof, Jim.”
“But you’ve got the second-best gut-instinct of anyone I’ve ever met.” Jim flashed a smug grin.
Bones only rolled his eyes. “Kid, if you’ve got the best gut instinct, then I’d think you would have amassed fewer broken bones and slapped cheeks over the years.”
“Very funny,” Jim deadpanned, but he wasn’t going to let himself be sidetracked. Maybe he’d promised himself he wouldn’t start digging, but Pike had told him to trust his instincts. And honestly, his instincts were to trust Bones’ instincts. “Come on, Bones. What else do you have?”
Bones stared at the floor for a moment, then met Jim’s eyes straight on. “The only other thing T’Val could pick up with any certainty is that Brex is uneasy about the Axanar. That’s nothing that I didn’t already know. Doctor Brex and I discussed it briefly. But...” His eyes flicked towards the door, then back again. “T’Val couldn’t get any specifics, but it seems Brex picked up an odd thought from the Axanar, and it was still strong enough for T’Val to find, even with Brex unconscious.”
“What?”
“That the Axanar don’t trust the Araxians.”
Jim let that sink in for a moment before slowly repeating it. “The Axanar don’t trust the Araxians.”
“We don’t know that.”
“But you just said - !”
“Jim,” Bones said in a low tone, and damn, he really looked exhausted. “What I said was that T’Val, a Vulcan who is not a certified Healer, picked up a stray thought from an unconscious Betazoid with memory problems, which he seems to have picked up from the Axanar... one or more of them, we can’t be sure. And, if all of that is correct, which it might not be, then the conclusion floating around in Brex’s unconscious brain is that he believes the Axanar don’t trust the Araxians.” He shook his head. “And my gut instinct is to believe Brex... even when he’s unconscious. I sure feel like there’s a hell of a lot more to this mess, but... you tell me if there’s any way we can pin something solid on that.”
Jim stared back at Bones. The obvious response was no, there wasn’t any way to tie up anything cohesive with that string of information. At least, not officially. Not enough information to accuse the Axanar of attacking Brex. Not enough information to even begin to investigate why - or if - the Axanar don’t trust Araxians. He didn’t personally know any of the people involved, including T’Val, so he had no idea how much he could trust any of them.
Besides, as a cadet, it’s not as if he could do anything about this. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to know. He was sure the actual officers were looking into this. Still, they were heading down to a new planet in two hours. It was a situation with too many variables to count, and plenty of unknowns. There was no such thing as wasted information. Pike would agree with that much, he was sure.
“Bones... what does your gut instinct say on this one?”
“Honestly?” Bones leaned back in his chair and let out a slow breath. “There’s a man unconscious in sickbay, he’s my patient, and even though I’ve known him less than two weeks, I’d say he’s my friend. He has no history of neurological problems or memory issues, but his memory is full of holes like a wheel of Swiss cheese... at least according to our Vulcan friend, and my scans support it. My gut instinct says that it’s not natural causes, and that whoever did this to him is trouble, Jim. Big trouble.” He closed his eyes. “That’s what my gut instinct says.”
Jim slowly settled deeper into his own chair, trying to stave off a shiver that was threatening his spine. Yeah, he trusted Bones. He just had no idea what to do about it.
“Something else, Jim.”
“What’s that?
Bones opened his eyes again, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Before she left... T’Val... she reached out and took my hand. Then she looked me in the eye and told me that I was... that I was both a Doctor and Healer... and that Brex is in the best possible hands. She... said I was a good friend, and a good man. And then she told me to ‘live long and prosper.’” Bones’ eyes blinked slowly. “I only realized later, that when she touched my hand, she must’ve read my mind.”
Jim opened his mouth to speak, then realized his throat had gone dry. He swallowed tightly, then said, “Well, Bones... it took a mind reader to figure out what I’ve known all along.”
For the first time in days, Bones smiled. It was threadbare and exhausted, but it was real. “Thanks, Jim.”
*********
Jim stepped up onto the transporter pad, trying to ignore his stomach, which was currently having a war of hunger growls and nervous jitters. He’d grabbed an apple from the mess hall after leaving Bones’ room, and ate it while running to his final assignment briefing. It wasn’t enough, but it had taken the worst edge off his appetite. His nerves, however, hadn’t been dulled at all, and it didn’t help that Bones wasn’t coming.
Justifiably, and understandably, Bones had contacted Doctor Singh from his quarters and gotten himself medically relieved from duty for sheer exhaustion. In all honesty, Jim was pretty sure that if Bones hadn’t done it, he’d have called Doctor Singh himself. Bones had been ready to collapse. He’d miss today’s landing party, but he’d make it up another day. Still, something about going down there without Bones wasn’t sitting right with Jim.
Actually, a lot wasn’t sitting right. And he had plenty of reasons to be nervous. Aside from the fact that this was an incredibly important mission, and forgetting that there was still a man unconscious due to an unknown cause, and ignoring the clues that the occupants of the planet below might or might not be as trustworthy as they seemed... he’d just received his assignment for the first landing party.
He glanced to his right, where the Tellarite Ambassador Skavrin was standing. He was assigned to be Skavrin’s shadow and assistant for the duration of the welcoming ceremony and the afternoon’s events. That would be easy, except for the fact that he still owed the Ambassador a debate.
Skavrin gave his ceremonial robes a rustle and looked over at Jim with a gleam in his eyes. His snout twitched. “I understand that they keep you cadets exceedingly busy, but I believe you turned coward and avoided the debate! We’ll cross words during the reception, and show these Araxians what a proper discussion looks like!”
All Jim wanted to offer was a bleak “Yes sir,” but he put on his game face. “I didn’t avoid you, Ambassador. I was too busy privately entertaining your mother.”
Jim swore that Skavrin actually puffed up in momentary indignation before letting out a raucous laugh. “Well, Kirk, let the games begin.”
Jim gave a steady nod in reply as the transporter room door opened, admitting the Vulcan Ambassador with Cadet Buhari, her assignment for the landing party. Her poise was solemn as she followed T’Val up to the transporter pad, but her eyes were laughing as she stood next to Jim and hissed at him softly.
“Can’t wait to see you get your ass handed to you in debate with Ambassador Skavrin.”
“Thanks. I needed that,” Jim whispered back.
The transporter room doors opened again, this time admitting the Axanar entourage, Captain Porter, the First Officer Commander LaSalle, a security officer, and...
“Is that a Kazarite?” Jim whispered in surprise to Buhari.
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. I passed Cultures class, but if it’s not made of conduits and energy matrices, I’ve forgotten most of it.”
Jim nodded vaguely, because he was pretty damned sure that was a Kazarite. They were Federation members, and Jim remembered that quite a few of them had come to Earth to work as ecologists and zoologists, but he’d never seen one. Must not be a lot of interesting ecology in Iowa. Definitely not as interesting as the Kazarite himself. Or herself. Or something else. Jim had no idea.
The attention was at the front of the room, and certainly not on the cadets at the back of the transporter pad, so Jim stepped a bit closer to Buhari. “He’s definitely a Kazarite. But... they usually only go on assignments that require ecological help, or handling animals.”
Buhari gave him an eyeroll. “Well, maybe there are animals on Araxis, Kirk, and he’s here to assess the local ecology. Or maybe he’s representing his planet... almost as if he was an Ambassador or something. What a funny idea.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Now that was a great way to feel dull-witted. Just what he needed before a debate with a Tellarite. “Welcome to Starfleet,” he mumbled to himself.
The Kazarite joined them on the transporter pad, along with the security officer who stood at the front of the platform and nodded to the transporter chief. “That’s everyone.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the lieutenant behind the controls. “Ready.”
“Energize.”
The transporter room dissolved away, and even in the transporter beam, Jim found himself trying to squint as the brightness of daylight hit him. As the beam faded away and his eyes adjusted to natural light, Jim took in the sights.
They had beamed down to the center of Parliament Square, which was the governing district of the capital city. The city itself was named Araxis - the cultural briefing said that the capital was intended to be the heartbeat of the whole planet, hence the same name. If first impressions were any indication, they had gotten it right.
Unlike the incredibly ornate detail of the architecture and the imposing size of the buildings on Axanar, the parliament building here was composed of clean lines, simple decor, and stately elegance. It seemed less overbearing somehow, without the fortress-like quality of the Axanar buildings. If anything, it just seemed more welcoming. It wasn’t small by any means, but it wasn’t excessive either. Despite its simplicity, and the notable lack of opal windows, Jim liked this place better than the capital of Axanar.
The buildings around the square looked like this species’ equivalent of office buildings, with an open design at all street-level entryways. The roads were straight and level, running away from the central square like spokes on a wheel. Tree-like plants dotted the walkways, completely unlike the purple-green plants from back on Axanar. Since they had only seen the regal buildings of Capitol Square on Axanar, Jim had no way to compare the architecture of normal buildings, but he got the impression that it was different from this, too.
In two hundred years, the Araxians had completely developed their own style, their own architecture, and... their own planet. The place felt brilliantly established. Comfortable. Jim had been on a colony planet once, and it had felt like a scattered frontier settlement. This, however... this felt like its own place.
Araxis.
Nice.
But very unexpectedly... quiet.
Jim frowned. Nice buildings, beautiful walkways, good streets, the landing parties, the Araxian delegates posed so properly on the front steps of the Parliament building, but... it was completely deserted.
There was no foot traffic along the streets. All the delegates, the Araxian security teams posted at key points around the Square, and now Captain Porter and Commander LaSalle, and the Axanar Ambassadors materializing in front of the steps of the Parliament building, but no pedestrians. No civilian crowds. For such a historic event, Jim expected to see people lining the Square, watching the whole affair.
“Where are the people?” Jim muttered, not even sure to whom he was asking.
The security officer who had beamed down with Jim’s group took a step closer to him. “The Araxian security forces decided that in order to ensure a formal reception, they weren’t permitting crowds around Parliament Square, just for this afternoon. After the meet-and-greet, the square will open again.”
“Understood, sir,” Jim said softly, even though he really didn’t understand. On Earth, this would be a widely attended event. But hey, each culture had their own way of dealing with formality, so who was he to judge?
It didn’t matter at the moment because an Araxian, obviously the one in charge, stepped forward. He didn’t approach Captain Porter, or any of the other delegates, but walked directly to the Axanar delegates. He bowed slightly to the junior delegate, then reached out and rested his hands on the arms of the senior delegate.
“Ambassador Ghizan, it is my privilege to welcome you formally to the planet of Araxis, home of the Araxians... now, once again, Axanar. Rejoined with our kinsmen. No longer alone. We welcome the protection of Axanar. All that we have... is yours.”
“Prime Minister Xhathan, we accept your welcome, and gladly take you and the rest of our lost family, back under the protection of Axanar. We accept the gift of your trust.”
Jim was quite sure the words were rehearsed, but they still gave him an odd chill. He watched as the two nearly identical beings maintained their pose for a moment, then broke apart smoothly. The illusion of Axanar and Araxis being so different seemed a bizarre contrast to how identical their people were. They were androgynous, so there wasn’t even a visible gender difference to help tell them apart. It was... yeah, weird.
Welcome to Starfleet, Jim thought to himself again.
The Prime Minister of Axanar stepped back, and bowed to the entire assembly. “Delegates, Ambassadors, distinguished and honored guests... please follow me to the House of Parliament for opening statements.”
Jim looked at Ambassador Skavrin, who merely shrugged jovially and quickly followed the retreating crowd. Jim cast one glance back over his shoulder at the oddly deserted square as he forced back a shudder. It wasn’t just the absence of spectators that seemed off. Something was making him uneasy, but he was at a loss as to what else was making him feel like this. He pursed his lips, shook his head to himself, and hurried after Skavrin and the rest of the delegates.
*********
“- and you know that the Zhitoran authorities had a standing policy of turning a blind eye to the activities of the triglobulin poachers!” Skavrin’s eyes were wild and delighted as he banged his empty cup against the table surface to emphasize his point. “The poachers had a reach far too broad to be controlled, and would only have led to societal degradation of their infrastructure due to the reallocation of resources. Any fool would see that!”
Jim leaned over the tabletop and gave Skavrin a feral grin. “Then this fool insists that the Zhitoran government had their own agents involved in the poaching. That’s why they turned a blind eye! Government operatives would happily look the other way because their own people were bringing in millions of credits worth of triglobulin, all at the expense of the Axanar.” Damn, this was fun. He should have debated with Skavrin sooner.
“If the Zhitoran government was profiting so grandly from their inside operatives,” Skavrin shot back, “then why would they have conceded so easily to the Federation demands that they cease their harvesting? A preposterous suggestion!”
“If the poachers were so far beyond the reach of the central government, as you claim,” Jim replied shrewdly, “then there’s no way the Zhitorans could have convinced the poachers to cease and desist. The only way they could have gotten the poaching to stop would have been inside operatives!” Jim narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I would have hardly called it an easy job to convince them. The Federation issued a standing order to track down poacher vessels and treat them as criminals against a Federation protectorate. The Zhitorans wouldn’t have stood a chance against that threat.”
Skavrin raised his glass and opened his mouth, ready to issue the next challenge, when Jim heard someone clear their throat behind him. Skavrin lowered his glass huffily as Jim turned around.
“Having fun, Kirk?” Lieutenant Finney looked at him wryly.
Jim grinned, knowing full-well that his face was flushed with excitement from the debate. “Yes, sir. I’d say it’s the best diplomatic conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
“Your cadet has been a most satisfactory associate,” Skavrin said with a satisfied grunt, stepping around the table to stand next to Jim. “If he does not have other duties, I would like to keep him on for the duration of this mission as my personal assistant.”
A crack of a smile brightened Finney’s expression. “We’ve got specific assignments that all cadets need to complete during their internship, Ambassador, but if Kirk has free time, I’ll send him your way.” He cast a deliberate glance over his shoulder and around the room. “You two seem to have an audience.”
Skavrin gave a sniff. “The finest aspects of diplomacy, Lieutenant. We are brightening this planet with the thrill of debate! Exposing them to new means of communication.” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you would deny them this privilege. I would challenge you -”
Finney held up his hands in a show of surrender, laughing lightly. “No challenge necessary, Ambassador! I concede! I concede!”
Ambassador Skavrin snorted. “Concede! Hrrrgh. Your cadet clearly learned his debate skills elsewhere.”
“That he did,” Finney said with a nod, sobering his expression. “Can I borrow Kirk for a moment?”
“He’s your cadet.” Skavrin waved his hands in a shooing motion. “I’m the one borrowing him... for now. I may yet decide to keep him.”
Jim was grinning even as he followed Finney through the room. It was a large ante room adjacent to the main hall, full of tall round tables without chairs, set up for socializing. Chairs lined the walls for those who wanted to sit, but most of the delegates and guests were milling through the room, standing around tables, eating and talking. Jim nodded politely to several of them as he followed Finney.
He also took a moment to appreciate the room. High ceilings, lots of light, and soft colors. Like the outside, Jim had discovered that the inside of the Parliament building was built and decorated in clean, uncluttered style. Simple decor, open floor plan. It was a stark contrast to the Axanar, highlighting yet again that these were two separate people... even though they seemed identical in both appearance and behavior. Not for the first time since they’d beamed down, Jim wondered how they could have been different enough to cause such a complete split two centuries ago. It was yet another thing he hoped to learn on this mission.
Finally, Finney veered off towards a side table.
Jim approached the table, slowing as he saw the expression on Finney’s face. “Sir?”
Finney leaned heavily on the table. “Drawing a lot of attention... cadet?” The meaning in the tone was obvious.
Jim felt himself deflate a bit. “I’m sorry, sir, but wasn’t it my assignment to act as Skavrin’s assistant and shadow?”
Finney blew out an exasperated breath. “I should have known better than to pair you with a Tellarite, but the Ambassador specifically requested you.” He shook his head to himself. “Yeah, I should have known. Only you would manage to hold up to a debate with a Tellarite.”
“The Ambassador seems pleased,” Jim said hopefully.
Finney smiled enough to let Jim relax just a bit. “Yes, Kirk, he is. And you’re not in trouble. I just want to suggest that you tone it down... not because you’re not performing well as Ambassador Skavrin’s assistant, but because... well... consider the issue of situational awareness.”
Jim frowned. “Sir? The situation is a multi-species reception and diplomatic function following a very successful set of opening remarks in Parliament.”
“When did you become a Vulcan?” Finney sighed, and Jim suddenly realized he looked exhausted.
“Sir... are you okay?”
Instantly, Finney straightened up a bit, standing taller, but his face still looked drawn and there were shadows under his eyes. “It’s been a long day, Kirk. By the time you saw me at the security briefing, I’d been up for several hours. That’s why I looked so awake. I’d already had enough coffee to wake the dead.”
Jim’s mind spun, and he suddenly realized that Finney must have been involved in what Bones had discovered overnight. Of course he was. Bones was a cadet, and Finney was involved in training all cadets on the ship. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Finney waved him off. “All I’m saying... is to remember to read situational awareness outside of the mission briefing. Beyond the obvious. Kirk... Jim... I read your whole academic profile before I accepted you to this internship, and reviewed the results of your Survival and Tactics course before you left sickbay that first day. You’re incredibly observant, and you notice things and put together details that far more seasoned officers might miss.”
“I... uh... thank you, sir.”
Finney just waved him off again. “I’m not saying that to expand your already over-inflated ego.” A friendly smile took the sting out of that one. “I’m telling you that you need to have that ability of yours in full gear at all times on a mission like this. Situational awareness. You were so engaged in your debate with Skavrin... did you notice how many people were listening to every word?”
Jim tilted his head, trying to remember. “There were a few... the two tables next to ours, the Caitian delegate, three of the wait-staff, and...”
“Did you notice the Zhitoran?”
“Wha - oh shi-... no, sir.”
Finney was nodding slowly. “Do you want me to go make nice with the Zhitoran, or are you going to fix it, if it needs fixing?”
Jim swallowed the nausea rising in his gut. “I’ll fix it, sir. I’m an officer intern. I’ve got to fix my own messes, right?”
Finney favored him with a grin, and finally leaned back from the table. “I knew you’d learned a thing or two over the past couple of years.”
“Occasionally,” Jim replied.
Finney gave him a nod of agreement. “Go on. Back to your assignment. We’ll be heading back to the ship in approximately two hours, so there’s still plenty of time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Kirk?” Finney’s grin suddenly became much wider, and somewhat conspiratorial. “I’ve never seen any human hold their own that well against a Tellarite. And you should know... there’s a reason they made Skavrin an Ambassador. He was a champion debater.”
Jim nodded vaguely and turned to work his way back through the crowd as that information sank in. Champion debater? Damn, now he wished he’d captured the debate on holovid. Who would ever believe him?
For ten minutes, Jim worked his way back through the crowd, looking for the Zhitoran Ambassador before giving up. He was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d left for the evening. Maybe Jim’s debate with Skavrin had put him off. Or... maybe Finney had been screwing with Jim, trying to get him to be more situationally aware.
Jim felt a brief flare of annoyance, bordering on defiance, at possibly being played like that... but then... he hadn’t noticed the Zhitoran Ambassador either way. He hadn’t even looked to see if the Zhitoran had been nearby before starting that debate, which meant that Finney was right anyway - he needed to pay more attention.
Feeling like an idiot (almost hearing the word in Bones’ voice), Jim worked his way back to Skavrin’s table, where he found the Ambassador having a slightly less boisterous discussion with... one of the wait-staff?
“...which is a perfectly normal way of - ah, Kirk! We’ve got ourselves a curious Araxian!”
Jim walked up to the table a bit cautiously. Thus far, all evening, the wait-staff had been just as hyper-courteous as the servers on Axanar. Perhaps even more so. Actually... situational awareness, Kirk. Whereas the Axanar waiters had conversed easily, these people almost seemed nervous to engage in conversation. They had offered plentiful refreshments and prompt service, but they had kept their distance, almost - and Jim wasn’t pleased that his mind supplied this analogy first - like a once-abused dog skirting just beyond reach.
Just as quickly, he reasoned that the Araxians had been isolationists for 200 years. When they’d left Axanar, their species was being hunted like animals. Perhaps it would take a while for them to get more comfortable with the idea of other sentient races that weren’t out to kill them.
Pasting a broad, friendly smile on his face, Jim tilted his head - less than a bow, more than a nod. “Hello, I’m Cadet Kirk of the Federation starship Athena. Pleased to meet you.”
The Araxian’s eyes widened slightly, and he gave a deep bow. “My apologies for intruding!”
Jim felt his smile falter. “Apologies? Uh... no need to apologize. After all, this whole event is about meeting new people. And your name is...?”
“I do not -” He stopped and glanced sideways at Skavrin, who gave a solemn nod. “I am called Zhareth,” he finally said. “But I’m here to serve, nothing more, sir.”
Jim spared a glance at Skavrin before focusing on Zhareth. “What are you curious about?”
Zhareth hesitated, then fixed Jim with a gaze that was surprisingly steady, despite the uncertainty in his words. “Well, I... you were arguing, sir. Challenging the Ambassador. He... he outranks you?”
Jim felt his eyebrows go up. So that’s what this about? “The Ambassador is a civilian, so he doesn’t outrank me in terms of Starfleet, but his position is...” Damn, he had to pick his words wisely here. “... superior to mine. I’m here as his assistant. But... okay, so in a way, I was challenging him, but I wasn’t challenging his position or authority. We were having a debate.”
“A glorious debate, Zhareth!” Skavrin interjected. “The interchange of words, testing your mettle, challenging one’s assumptions and seeing whether your own assertions can hold up to scrutiny. It’s the finest form of communication!”
Zhareth’s face screwed up in thought, as if he couldn’t make sense of it. “But your subordinate challenged, you, sir,” he said meekly, then his eyes widened. “And I am challenging you by questioning what you tell me! Oh, I can’t be seen doing this. I should return to my duties.”
“Whoa, hold on,” Jim said, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re supposed to be serving the delegates, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, we’re telling you to relax and join us for a minute.” Jim gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Anyway, as far as the Federation is concerned, even if two people hold different ranks - in Starfleet or society at large - both people have equal value. And when we interact, it’s about mutual respect.”
“Even if you’re challenging a superior? In a debate?” For a brief moment, there was a spark of something sharp and scrutinizing in Zhareth’s expression, eyes narrowing just slightly, but he quickly looked down at the floor then back up at Jim, wary and nervous.
“I’ve challenged plenty of my superiors,” Jim said, trying not to laugh. “Sometimes, I might have pushed it a bit too far... but there’s nothing wrong with challenging or debating someone else, regardless of rank, if you still have respect for their experience and status. At least, that’s how humans work, and so do a lot of other Federations species. Are you telling me that Araxians don’t have debates?”
“We have debates, sir, but... we have been told that we should never debate against a superior, if we’re to remain under his protection.”
That... was an odd statement, Jim thought. “You’ve been told?” That didn’t sound like a person referring to his own wishes. “I thought the Axanar and Araxian system of service and protection was cultural tradition?”
“It is, sir! That is what I meant. I...” He looked over his shoulder, and suddenly shook his head. “Please, allow me to return to my duties. I shall bring you more refreshments, if you desire.”
Jim looked over at Skavrin, who merely shrugged and said, “I would enjoy another round of this exquisite beverage, and perhaps another fruit tart. Anything for you, Kirk?”
Jim shook his head. “No. Nothing.”
Zhareth bowed deeply and hurried off. Jim watched him go. Zhareth didn’t act quite like an Axanar, but then, he was an Araxian. Not that they seemed so different, but then maybe they were. Either way, he was obviously hung up on something.
“Cadet Kirk?” Skavrin asked in the softest tone Jim had ever heard a Tellarite use. “Something of concern?”
Jim looked sideways at him. “I don’t know.”
*********
To Chapter 10
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8,489 for chapter 9
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?
Notes: So... epic fail in my plans to post this in a timely manner. The semester kicked my ass. I got no sleep, and by the end of it, I was a nervous wreck. But I've completed my EMT class, my knee is healing, and I've finished my work contract. I'm taking a bit of time off... partly to do my national registry testing, apply for jobs, and other responsible stuff... but also to relax, recover, and indulge in the hobbies I've missed so much. Of course, that includes finishing this story. The rest of it is coming in short order. I hope it's been worth the wait.
Happy Christmas. :)
Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven, Eight
Chapter 9
Jim swore his skin tingled if he stood close enough to the protective barriers around the warp core. Sure, he’d personally checked the radiation and energy sensor readings around the core, and he knew it was absolutely safe, but there was still something about that much raw power that was intoxicating. Not to mention, the engineers were a hoot. Sven, his sociopathic roommate from last spring, seemed to be an anomaly amongst them. Yeah, Jim was pretty sure that if he hadn’t already been completely set on command and tactics, he’d join the Engineering branch without a second thought.
But for now, Engineering was being set aside. Jim had only been on the warp core team for two days, and it wasn’t enough, but he’d finish that rotation later. All cadets had been pulled out of their current rotations for Security training and landing party briefings.
They’d arrived in orbit around Araxis.
The next week or more would be a whirlwind of security and diplomacy assignments. Barring unforeseen circumstances, Finney told them they’d be going down to the surface at least three times. The first time would be for the welcoming ceremony, and the others would probably be for various security assignments or maybe a tour of the main city. If he could finagle it, he’d try to get them into the Parliament building so they could witness some of the negotiations and discussions.
Now that would be something to write home about.
Most crew members - real crew members - weren’t even going down to the surface at all, and here were a bunch of cadets, getting to go down not once, but three times? For an event like this? All in the name of, as Finney had put it, “an unparalleled training opportunity”?
Oh hell yeah.
It was definitely worth leaving the warp engines behind.
The cadets had woken up early to catch breakfast in the mess before the first briefing, which would start at 0600 hours. It was an early morning, but the excitement was enough that the early hour didn’t bother Jim at all. Based on the bleary eyes and lack of discussion over breakfast, he and Herrera were the only ones who didn’t mind.
Nadeau had pounded down three cups of coffee and left the table to get to the briefing room early. To the guy’s credit, he’d stayed up late re-reading the entire mission brief. Jim had found him asleep on top of his blankets with his face flattened on the screen of his PADD. The guy still had the imprint from the screen on his forehead. Nobody had told him.
Herrera and Buhari had followed him a moment later, talking rapidly about the chance to see new scientific and engineering marvels. Wilcox hadn’t wanted to leave her coffee until the last possible moment, and Liu seemed indifferent, so the three of them had sat around the breakfast table, absorbing caffeine and watching the chrono until they had no choice but to run to the briefing.
Jim crammed the last bite of his toast into his mouth as stepped out of the turbolift with Wilcox and Liu, and they saw Finney standing at the door of the briefing room. He was wearing a broad grin.
He clapped a couple of times, looking far too energetic for that hour of the morning. “Come on, guys, the real party is just about to begin here! One morning of briefings, and then we get to step foot on a new planet. The climate is supposed to be vacation-perfect this season. Wilcox, you look like you need some more coffee.”
She groaned lightly, not even bothering to deny the fact that she had deep circles under her eyes and was practically dragging her heels. “Lieutenant Kim kept me up late last night, sir. Goldberg and I messed up the energy grid on deck three, and -”
Finney held up a hand, stopping her. “Excuses, cadet?”
“Never, sir,” she said without missing a beat. “Just an explanation. I’m here on time anyway, right?”
Jim chuckled to himself, vaguely wondering how many cups of coffee it was taking to get Bones through his crazy schedule.
Finney just gave her an easy smile. “As long as you can stay awake. Besides, it’s good that Kim is working you hard. You’ll learn a lot on that team. But for now... adventure awaits. Get your tails in there.”
They filed into the briefing room, and Jim almost stopped short in surprise. Almost.
Grinning broadly, he sauntered over to the back corner of the room where Bones was clutching his coffee canteen and scowling blearily. He elbowed Bones lightly as he sat down, which only made Bones scowl harder. “I take it you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Jim said in a low tone.
“For your information,” came the gravely reply, “I’ve been awake since yesterday at 1500, and it’s been....” He shook his head. “We’ll talk after the briefing.”
Jim nodded slowly, sympathizing. He wasn’t trying to mock his red-eyed friend. Really. “Sure, but... why are you at this meeting?”
Bones graced him with a tolerant eye-roll. “What’s my rank, Jim?”
“Cadet.”
“See? You are a genius,” he said with his thickest sarcastic drawl, before taking a swig of his coffee. “All the cadets who got accepted to this internship get to go along for this little joyride... including me.”
Jim frowned. “But they’re short-staffed in sickbay.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He tipped back his canteen again, then shook his head. “It’ll be fine.”
There was something in Bones’ expression... he had something else on his mind, but it seemed like the sort of something that required a distraction approach. Jim gave him a sideways look. “You know you’re not supposed to bring drinks in here.”
Bones took another sip of his coffee, swallowed, and said, “Funny, that’s what the Lieutenant out there said, too.”
“Finney?” Jim’s felt his eyes widen just a bit. “How’d you get it past him?”
At that, Bones raised an eyebrow, staring at the canteen in his hands. “I may have implied that it was medically necessary for my sanity, and that removing this stimulant from my possession would have dire consequences.” He looked back at Jim, giving the appearance of being just a touch crazed.
Jim nodded vaguely. “Uh... right.”
The only reply was a grumble, drowned by another swig of coffee.
Jim was beginning to hope the meeting would start five seconds ago when the door slid open.
Finney burst into the room, still looking far too energetic, with another Lieutenant in an Ops uniform following him. The cadets stood (Bones may have groaned in the process) as the security officer took the front of the room. Finney stood off to the side.
The Lieutenant turned a sharp gaze over the room. Short brown hair, and the obvious remnants of a natural tan from before the mission started. She wasn’t particularly tall, and there was nothing overt about her that seemed imposing, but between the muscled shoulders and the way she carried herself, Jim got the impression that she could twist him into a pretzel. He wasn’t about to test it, either.
Her expression softened slightly, and she nodded. “Good morning, cadets. I’m Lieutenant Voorhs. I’m one of the section leaders in Security, directly under Security Chief Gaynes. He’s more than occupied babysitting a bunch of diplomats -” she let a grin crack through “- so I get to babysit a bunch of cadets.”
Jim felt himself relax a bit. Next to him, he heard Bones’ classic long-suffering sigh.
At the front of the room, Lieutenant Voorhs activated the computer display and pulled up a map of the planet’s largest continent. “The people of Araxis have settled several regions across the main continent, mostly in small farming and research communities. Our mission will be isolated to the Araxian capital city.” The map zoomed in on a region near the southeastern coast of the continent, and resolved into a grid of city streets. “We’ll be covering all the basic security concerns for the duration of the mission, as well as specific roles you might be expected to play between schmoozing with the delegates. This is a training mission for you, so you’re going to be involved with various security functions as we go.”
Jim sat up a little bit straighter. He’d expected to be a passive observer, making small-talk and trying not to cause an interstellar incident. This? Was much better.
Voorhs continued talking. “While a security officer’s entire job is about planning for security, it’s also an important consideration for every member of Starfleet, especially during a landing party. Someday, most of you will be working hand-in-hand with security personnel to plan missions. This time, you get to play the pawns yourselves.”
The map zoomed in to the parliament building and other major structures around the settlement. The maps had just been updated with data from the Araxians, which showed far more detail. It was incredibly impressive. It was a settlement of only 200 years, and they not only had a complete advanced infrastructure, but also multiple towns and smaller settlements across a sizable region of the main continent. Jim wondered how many Axanar had originally gone to Araxis, how fast they reproduced, and how much technology they’d brought with them. The original records from Axanar had been sparse. And he wondered what their world would be like if the Axanar hadn’t reestablished contact.
Jim cast a sideways glance at Bones... who was staring solemnly at the screen, and frowning. He had that same look as before the briefing started - the one that said he had other things on his mind. Carefully, Jim leaned an elbow into Bones’ arm, and when Bones looked sideways at him, Jim furrowed his eyebrows in the universally recognized sign for, What gives?
Bones shot him back a look with a barely-visible shake of the head, which Jim knew to mean, Not now, Jim!
“Gentlemen? Is there something relevant to the security of this mission that you wish to share with your fellow cadets, your instructor, and myself?” Lieutenant Voorhs was drilling holes through them with her eyes. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips, and Jim was starting to fear that he might yet experience that pretzel-like shape, and he probably wouldn’t like it. Yeah... never try to get away with anything in front of a good security officer.
Jim opened his mouth to apologize, but Bones cut in before he could get a word out.
“Sir, how sure are we that the Araxian intel is good enough to base security protocols on?”
Jim felt his jaw drop as he gawked at his friend. What the hell did Bones know about security protocols? For that matter, what did he care? “Bones?”
“Shut yer mouth, Jim.” Bones said, in an undertone. “If there’s a fly on this ship, you’ll catch it.”
Voorhs, for her part, was giving them both a searching look. She seemed to be debating several possible things to say, and finally let her hands fall to her sides. “Cadets,” she said, addressing the whole room, but looking at Bones, “We’re never sure if our intel is good enough. And we always have to plan as if our intel isn’t good at all. We get information, and we make the best educated guesses that we can. We have to bend for the needs of diplomacy, account for the variables, and prepare for the possibility of complete disaster... for every mission we run.” She gave a slight nod. “This mission is no exception. Does that answer your question, Cadet?”
Jim expected Bones to answer and just let the matter drop, but instead, Bones pressed his lips together and got that expression of his that threatened a more terrifying debate than a Tellarite could give.
Huh. That was an idea. Bones debating a Tellarite. Jim mentally filed that away as something he had to see before he died.
But right now, he was worried about living long enough to see the surface of Araxis. “Bones?” Jim whispered, not that anyone in the room didn’t hear him. “Come on, man, what the hell?”
Finney stepped forward. “Is there something you need to tell us, McCoy?” he asked, and it had none of the sarcastic tone that Voorhs had used.
Bones opened his mouth, cast one last sideways glance at Jim, then squared his shoulders and stood. “I’m a doctor, not a command or ops cadet. I know security and command and tactics and stuff aren’t my specialty, but -”
“Ah, you’re the medical cadet.”
Bones bristled just slightly. “Not just a medical cadet. It’s Doctor McCoy. And... it’s just that... aw, hell, I don’t know what I’m allowed to say here.”
Voorhs narrowed her eyes just slightly. “I believe I may know what you’re talking about. I’ve already received that briefing, McCoy, and we’ve taken that information into account for our plans. And while I appreciate your concern over our safety protocols, yes, we do know what we’re doing. I was up most of the night myself, reworking the security protocols with Chief Gaynes based on that information. Thank you for your work last night, but... really, we’ve got this under control. As you said... security isn’t your specialty.”
Bones gave a thinly proper, “Thank you, sir,” as he sat back down, and if Jim knew Bones (which he did), that man’s mind was racing.
So was Jim’s. What sort of work had Bones done last night? What could he have done that ended up in a security briefing? And why did Jim feel like he was going to jump out of his skin if he didn’t find out for himself?
One last glare from Bones stifled any inclination Jim had to push him for information during the meeting.
He’d grill Bones as soon as they broke for lunch.
*********
Jim was pretty sure his head was swimming by the time they were dismissed from the security briefings. Sure, he knew security was more than a bunch of chumps beating each other up, and he’d taken Basic Security and Tactical Ops Security classes at the Academy, but damn, there was a lot for these people to consider in a real mission, especially the officers.
Still, all that information wasn’t enough to drown out Jim’s burning curiosity about what the hell was going on with Bones. As soon as they were a few paces away from the door, heading (Jim assumed) towards the mess hall for lunch, he turned towards Bones to begin drilling his best friend for details. Before he could say a word, however, Bones’ hand latched onto his upper arm in a claw-like vice grip, and he found himself tugged down a different corridor.
“Ow! Bones, where are we going? And what the hell was -”
“Put a sock in it, Jim. We’re going to my quarters.”
“But the mess hall...” Jim cast a desperate glance back over his shoulder, thinking of everyone else headed down for lunch. “Come on, if we don’t eat now, we won’t get a chance until after the welcome ceremony, and that could be hours!”
“There’s more important things than stuffing your gullet, kid.”
“I know, and I figured I’d ask you over lunch... was that about Doctor Br - !”
Bones’ free hand clamped over his mouth, none too gently. “Dammit, Jim, you really don’t know how to shut up!” he hissed.
“Mmmphfff.”
“That’s better.”
They rounded another corner to a second set of turbolifts, and Jim swore Bones looked back over his shoulder before getting into the ‘lift. “Deck eight.”
“Bones?”
“Wait, Jim.”
It was less than a minute, but it seemed to take forever before they were securely ensconced in Bones’ quarters. Jim sat down in one of the armchairs, but Bones didn’t. In fact, the guy started pacing. Fucking pacing.
“Bones.” The man kept pacing, and Jim tilted his head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding... Bones!”
Bones stopped mid-pace, almost stumbling. Two owlish, slightly bloodshot eyes blinked back at him.
Jim sighed. “You’re making me dizzy just watching you. So sit down before you fall over and I have to drag your sorry ass to your bunk.” Damn, this felt like a role reversal. “And tell me what the hell is going on here.”
Leonard shook his head and resumed pacing. “It’s classified and I’m not supposed to say a word about any of this.”
“And since when has that stopped either of us from discussing things?” He shook his head, thinking about what he’d told Bones about Brex’s deleted messages, even though he shouldn’t have said a word. But it was true - they never could keep anything from each other. “Come on, Bones... you brought me down here to tell me, so just spill it already. What happened with Doctor Brex?”
It was like someone flipped a power switch. The look of sheer exhaustion that Bones had held at bay during the briefings seemed to crash down on him. It was mingled with thick, nervous energy, and he seemed like he was running on fumes but unable to let himself land.
Jim decided not to use that metaphor aloud.
With a weary grunt, Bones dropped himself into the other armchair. “The Vulcan Ambassador came to sickbay last night while I was on-shift.”
“The Vulcan... wait, there’s a Vulcan onboard?” Jim felt a flash of excitement. “That’s great, Bones! They’re touch-telepaths with really specialized mental disciplines... the Ambassador might be able to figure out what’s wrong with Doctor Brex... what?”
Bones had closed his eyes, and was slowly, deliberately beating the back of his head against the cushion of his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Encyclopedia Gallactica, rogue genius and professional pest. Yes, you’re smarter than me, I know.”
Taken more than slightly aback, Jim blinked as though he’d been slapped. Why would his scant knowledge of Vulcans, little more than from his Federation Cultures class had taught him, make Bones upset? “Bones... I’m... sorry, just... tell me what the Ambassador said.”
Bones sighed. “You’re right. She did this touch-telepathy thing. She said it wasn’t a mind-melt or mind-meld or whatever they call it, but she sat up at the head of the biobed, touched his temples, and kinda went into some sort of trance. Sat there for a good while. It was the strangest thing I’ve seen in a good long while.”
“I guess you haven’t seen Ensign Zreen yet.”
“Jim.”
“Sorry.”
Bones shifted in his chair to face Jim a little bit more. Damn, he looked even more exhausted now. “She said he’s not fully unconscious under there, so there’s some awareness... but he’s confused and disoriented.”
“Can’t she help him get... uh... oriented?”
Bones shook his head, his frown deepening. “She’s not a Healer. She only knows some basics, so she had to get special permission from the Vulcan Council of Healers, and then... only to assess him. Not to treat him. And I understand why. I wouldn’t let some random idiot perform surgery with nothing more than first aid training.”
“Thanks, Bones,” Jim said, jokingly acting stung.
“Wasn’t talkin’ about you, kid. But this is the same deal. She’s got the equivalent of first aid training, and the mind is a delicate thing. Brex is a telepath, with a brain structure I’ve only seen in medical databases until now, and until we know how he was injured, we can’t even begin to consider treating the injury.” A ghost of a sly smile crossed his face. “And that would be like sending our hypothetical first aid idiot to do surgery without even telling him what was wrong.”
“I’ll make sure the idiots leave stuff like surgery to the experts,” Jim said dryly. “But Bones... that’s not what’s got you so worked up. I know you.”
“Yeah, Jim.” The faint smile disappeared without a trace. “So Ambassador T’Val said he was confused, and disoriented. He wasn’t really sure if he was awake or asleep. And... she said there were gaps.”
Jim frowned. “Gaps? Like his memory? Didn’t you tell me that he’d forgotten asking to meet you early that morning?”
Bones nodded. “And that he seemed to remember just before he passed out.” He rubbed a hand roughly over his face and jaw. “Based on the areas of the brain with the odd electrical activity, it makes sense that there are memory gaps. T’Val couldn’t tell me what he was actually missing, which makes sense, but simply that she sensed that his recent memories had been... scrambled.”
Jim nodded slowly. He knew where this was going. “And you think his memories were scrambled by someone.”
“I don’t have a scrap of proof, Jim.”
“But you’ve got the second-best gut-instinct of anyone I’ve ever met.” Jim flashed a smug grin.
Bones only rolled his eyes. “Kid, if you’ve got the best gut instinct, then I’d think you would have amassed fewer broken bones and slapped cheeks over the years.”
“Very funny,” Jim deadpanned, but he wasn’t going to let himself be sidetracked. Maybe he’d promised himself he wouldn’t start digging, but Pike had told him to trust his instincts. And honestly, his instincts were to trust Bones’ instincts. “Come on, Bones. What else do you have?”
Bones stared at the floor for a moment, then met Jim’s eyes straight on. “The only other thing T’Val could pick up with any certainty is that Brex is uneasy about the Axanar. That’s nothing that I didn’t already know. Doctor Brex and I discussed it briefly. But...” His eyes flicked towards the door, then back again. “T’Val couldn’t get any specifics, but it seems Brex picked up an odd thought from the Axanar, and it was still strong enough for T’Val to find, even with Brex unconscious.”
“What?”
“That the Axanar don’t trust the Araxians.”
Jim let that sink in for a moment before slowly repeating it. “The Axanar don’t trust the Araxians.”
“We don’t know that.”
“But you just said - !”
“Jim,” Bones said in a low tone, and damn, he really looked exhausted. “What I said was that T’Val, a Vulcan who is not a certified Healer, picked up a stray thought from an unconscious Betazoid with memory problems, which he seems to have picked up from the Axanar... one or more of them, we can’t be sure. And, if all of that is correct, which it might not be, then the conclusion floating around in Brex’s unconscious brain is that he believes the Axanar don’t trust the Araxians.” He shook his head. “And my gut instinct is to believe Brex... even when he’s unconscious. I sure feel like there’s a hell of a lot more to this mess, but... you tell me if there’s any way we can pin something solid on that.”
Jim stared back at Bones. The obvious response was no, there wasn’t any way to tie up anything cohesive with that string of information. At least, not officially. Not enough information to accuse the Axanar of attacking Brex. Not enough information to even begin to investigate why - or if - the Axanar don’t trust Araxians. He didn’t personally know any of the people involved, including T’Val, so he had no idea how much he could trust any of them.
Besides, as a cadet, it’s not as if he could do anything about this. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to know. He was sure the actual officers were looking into this. Still, they were heading down to a new planet in two hours. It was a situation with too many variables to count, and plenty of unknowns. There was no such thing as wasted information. Pike would agree with that much, he was sure.
“Bones... what does your gut instinct say on this one?”
“Honestly?” Bones leaned back in his chair and let out a slow breath. “There’s a man unconscious in sickbay, he’s my patient, and even though I’ve known him less than two weeks, I’d say he’s my friend. He has no history of neurological problems or memory issues, but his memory is full of holes like a wheel of Swiss cheese... at least according to our Vulcan friend, and my scans support it. My gut instinct says that it’s not natural causes, and that whoever did this to him is trouble, Jim. Big trouble.” He closed his eyes. “That’s what my gut instinct says.”
Jim slowly settled deeper into his own chair, trying to stave off a shiver that was threatening his spine. Yeah, he trusted Bones. He just had no idea what to do about it.
“Something else, Jim.”
“What’s that?
Bones opened his eyes again, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Before she left... T’Val... she reached out and took my hand. Then she looked me in the eye and told me that I was... that I was both a Doctor and Healer... and that Brex is in the best possible hands. She... said I was a good friend, and a good man. And then she told me to ‘live long and prosper.’” Bones’ eyes blinked slowly. “I only realized later, that when she touched my hand, she must’ve read my mind.”
Jim opened his mouth to speak, then realized his throat had gone dry. He swallowed tightly, then said, “Well, Bones... it took a mind reader to figure out what I’ve known all along.”
For the first time in days, Bones smiled. It was threadbare and exhausted, but it was real. “Thanks, Jim.”
*********
Jim stepped up onto the transporter pad, trying to ignore his stomach, which was currently having a war of hunger growls and nervous jitters. He’d grabbed an apple from the mess hall after leaving Bones’ room, and ate it while running to his final assignment briefing. It wasn’t enough, but it had taken the worst edge off his appetite. His nerves, however, hadn’t been dulled at all, and it didn’t help that Bones wasn’t coming.
Justifiably, and understandably, Bones had contacted Doctor Singh from his quarters and gotten himself medically relieved from duty for sheer exhaustion. In all honesty, Jim was pretty sure that if Bones hadn’t done it, he’d have called Doctor Singh himself. Bones had been ready to collapse. He’d miss today’s landing party, but he’d make it up another day. Still, something about going down there without Bones wasn’t sitting right with Jim.
Actually, a lot wasn’t sitting right. And he had plenty of reasons to be nervous. Aside from the fact that this was an incredibly important mission, and forgetting that there was still a man unconscious due to an unknown cause, and ignoring the clues that the occupants of the planet below might or might not be as trustworthy as they seemed... he’d just received his assignment for the first landing party.
He glanced to his right, where the Tellarite Ambassador Skavrin was standing. He was assigned to be Skavrin’s shadow and assistant for the duration of the welcoming ceremony and the afternoon’s events. That would be easy, except for the fact that he still owed the Ambassador a debate.
Skavrin gave his ceremonial robes a rustle and looked over at Jim with a gleam in his eyes. His snout twitched. “I understand that they keep you cadets exceedingly busy, but I believe you turned coward and avoided the debate! We’ll cross words during the reception, and show these Araxians what a proper discussion looks like!”
All Jim wanted to offer was a bleak “Yes sir,” but he put on his game face. “I didn’t avoid you, Ambassador. I was too busy privately entertaining your mother.”
Jim swore that Skavrin actually puffed up in momentary indignation before letting out a raucous laugh. “Well, Kirk, let the games begin.”
Jim gave a steady nod in reply as the transporter room door opened, admitting the Vulcan Ambassador with Cadet Buhari, her assignment for the landing party. Her poise was solemn as she followed T’Val up to the transporter pad, but her eyes were laughing as she stood next to Jim and hissed at him softly.
“Can’t wait to see you get your ass handed to you in debate with Ambassador Skavrin.”
“Thanks. I needed that,” Jim whispered back.
The transporter room doors opened again, this time admitting the Axanar entourage, Captain Porter, the First Officer Commander LaSalle, a security officer, and...
“Is that a Kazarite?” Jim whispered in surprise to Buhari.
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. I passed Cultures class, but if it’s not made of conduits and energy matrices, I’ve forgotten most of it.”
Jim nodded vaguely, because he was pretty damned sure that was a Kazarite. They were Federation members, and Jim remembered that quite a few of them had come to Earth to work as ecologists and zoologists, but he’d never seen one. Must not be a lot of interesting ecology in Iowa. Definitely not as interesting as the Kazarite himself. Or herself. Or something else. Jim had no idea.
The attention was at the front of the room, and certainly not on the cadets at the back of the transporter pad, so Jim stepped a bit closer to Buhari. “He’s definitely a Kazarite. But... they usually only go on assignments that require ecological help, or handling animals.”
Buhari gave him an eyeroll. “Well, maybe there are animals on Araxis, Kirk, and he’s here to assess the local ecology. Or maybe he’s representing his planet... almost as if he was an Ambassador or something. What a funny idea.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Now that was a great way to feel dull-witted. Just what he needed before a debate with a Tellarite. “Welcome to Starfleet,” he mumbled to himself.
The Kazarite joined them on the transporter pad, along with the security officer who stood at the front of the platform and nodded to the transporter chief. “That’s everyone.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the lieutenant behind the controls. “Ready.”
“Energize.”
The transporter room dissolved away, and even in the transporter beam, Jim found himself trying to squint as the brightness of daylight hit him. As the beam faded away and his eyes adjusted to natural light, Jim took in the sights.
They had beamed down to the center of Parliament Square, which was the governing district of the capital city. The city itself was named Araxis - the cultural briefing said that the capital was intended to be the heartbeat of the whole planet, hence the same name. If first impressions were any indication, they had gotten it right.
Unlike the incredibly ornate detail of the architecture and the imposing size of the buildings on Axanar, the parliament building here was composed of clean lines, simple decor, and stately elegance. It seemed less overbearing somehow, without the fortress-like quality of the Axanar buildings. If anything, it just seemed more welcoming. It wasn’t small by any means, but it wasn’t excessive either. Despite its simplicity, and the notable lack of opal windows, Jim liked this place better than the capital of Axanar.
The buildings around the square looked like this species’ equivalent of office buildings, with an open design at all street-level entryways. The roads were straight and level, running away from the central square like spokes on a wheel. Tree-like plants dotted the walkways, completely unlike the purple-green plants from back on Axanar. Since they had only seen the regal buildings of Capitol Square on Axanar, Jim had no way to compare the architecture of normal buildings, but he got the impression that it was different from this, too.
In two hundred years, the Araxians had completely developed their own style, their own architecture, and... their own planet. The place felt brilliantly established. Comfortable. Jim had been on a colony planet once, and it had felt like a scattered frontier settlement. This, however... this felt like its own place.
Araxis.
Nice.
But very unexpectedly... quiet.
Jim frowned. Nice buildings, beautiful walkways, good streets, the landing parties, the Araxian delegates posed so properly on the front steps of the Parliament building, but... it was completely deserted.
There was no foot traffic along the streets. All the delegates, the Araxian security teams posted at key points around the Square, and now Captain Porter and Commander LaSalle, and the Axanar Ambassadors materializing in front of the steps of the Parliament building, but no pedestrians. No civilian crowds. For such a historic event, Jim expected to see people lining the Square, watching the whole affair.
“Where are the people?” Jim muttered, not even sure to whom he was asking.
The security officer who had beamed down with Jim’s group took a step closer to him. “The Araxian security forces decided that in order to ensure a formal reception, they weren’t permitting crowds around Parliament Square, just for this afternoon. After the meet-and-greet, the square will open again.”
“Understood, sir,” Jim said softly, even though he really didn’t understand. On Earth, this would be a widely attended event. But hey, each culture had their own way of dealing with formality, so who was he to judge?
It didn’t matter at the moment because an Araxian, obviously the one in charge, stepped forward. He didn’t approach Captain Porter, or any of the other delegates, but walked directly to the Axanar delegates. He bowed slightly to the junior delegate, then reached out and rested his hands on the arms of the senior delegate.
“Ambassador Ghizan, it is my privilege to welcome you formally to the planet of Araxis, home of the Araxians... now, once again, Axanar. Rejoined with our kinsmen. No longer alone. We welcome the protection of Axanar. All that we have... is yours.”
“Prime Minister Xhathan, we accept your welcome, and gladly take you and the rest of our lost family, back under the protection of Axanar. We accept the gift of your trust.”
Jim was quite sure the words were rehearsed, but they still gave him an odd chill. He watched as the two nearly identical beings maintained their pose for a moment, then broke apart smoothly. The illusion of Axanar and Araxis being so different seemed a bizarre contrast to how identical their people were. They were androgynous, so there wasn’t even a visible gender difference to help tell them apart. It was... yeah, weird.
Welcome to Starfleet, Jim thought to himself again.
The Prime Minister of Axanar stepped back, and bowed to the entire assembly. “Delegates, Ambassadors, distinguished and honored guests... please follow me to the House of Parliament for opening statements.”
Jim looked at Ambassador Skavrin, who merely shrugged jovially and quickly followed the retreating crowd. Jim cast one glance back over his shoulder at the oddly deserted square as he forced back a shudder. It wasn’t just the absence of spectators that seemed off. Something was making him uneasy, but he was at a loss as to what else was making him feel like this. He pursed his lips, shook his head to himself, and hurried after Skavrin and the rest of the delegates.
*********
“- and you know that the Zhitoran authorities had a standing policy of turning a blind eye to the activities of the triglobulin poachers!” Skavrin’s eyes were wild and delighted as he banged his empty cup against the table surface to emphasize his point. “The poachers had a reach far too broad to be controlled, and would only have led to societal degradation of their infrastructure due to the reallocation of resources. Any fool would see that!”
Jim leaned over the tabletop and gave Skavrin a feral grin. “Then this fool insists that the Zhitoran government had their own agents involved in the poaching. That’s why they turned a blind eye! Government operatives would happily look the other way because their own people were bringing in millions of credits worth of triglobulin, all at the expense of the Axanar.” Damn, this was fun. He should have debated with Skavrin sooner.
“If the Zhitoran government was profiting so grandly from their inside operatives,” Skavrin shot back, “then why would they have conceded so easily to the Federation demands that they cease their harvesting? A preposterous suggestion!”
“If the poachers were so far beyond the reach of the central government, as you claim,” Jim replied shrewdly, “then there’s no way the Zhitorans could have convinced the poachers to cease and desist. The only way they could have gotten the poaching to stop would have been inside operatives!” Jim narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I would have hardly called it an easy job to convince them. The Federation issued a standing order to track down poacher vessels and treat them as criminals against a Federation protectorate. The Zhitorans wouldn’t have stood a chance against that threat.”
Skavrin raised his glass and opened his mouth, ready to issue the next challenge, when Jim heard someone clear their throat behind him. Skavrin lowered his glass huffily as Jim turned around.
“Having fun, Kirk?” Lieutenant Finney looked at him wryly.
Jim grinned, knowing full-well that his face was flushed with excitement from the debate. “Yes, sir. I’d say it’s the best diplomatic conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
“Your cadet has been a most satisfactory associate,” Skavrin said with a satisfied grunt, stepping around the table to stand next to Jim. “If he does not have other duties, I would like to keep him on for the duration of this mission as my personal assistant.”
A crack of a smile brightened Finney’s expression. “We’ve got specific assignments that all cadets need to complete during their internship, Ambassador, but if Kirk has free time, I’ll send him your way.” He cast a deliberate glance over his shoulder and around the room. “You two seem to have an audience.”
Skavrin gave a sniff. “The finest aspects of diplomacy, Lieutenant. We are brightening this planet with the thrill of debate! Exposing them to new means of communication.” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you would deny them this privilege. I would challenge you -”
Finney held up his hands in a show of surrender, laughing lightly. “No challenge necessary, Ambassador! I concede! I concede!”
Ambassador Skavrin snorted. “Concede! Hrrrgh. Your cadet clearly learned his debate skills elsewhere.”
“That he did,” Finney said with a nod, sobering his expression. “Can I borrow Kirk for a moment?”
“He’s your cadet.” Skavrin waved his hands in a shooing motion. “I’m the one borrowing him... for now. I may yet decide to keep him.”
Jim was grinning even as he followed Finney through the room. It was a large ante room adjacent to the main hall, full of tall round tables without chairs, set up for socializing. Chairs lined the walls for those who wanted to sit, but most of the delegates and guests were milling through the room, standing around tables, eating and talking. Jim nodded politely to several of them as he followed Finney.
He also took a moment to appreciate the room. High ceilings, lots of light, and soft colors. Like the outside, Jim had discovered that the inside of the Parliament building was built and decorated in clean, uncluttered style. Simple decor, open floor plan. It was a stark contrast to the Axanar, highlighting yet again that these were two separate people... even though they seemed identical in both appearance and behavior. Not for the first time since they’d beamed down, Jim wondered how they could have been different enough to cause such a complete split two centuries ago. It was yet another thing he hoped to learn on this mission.
Finally, Finney veered off towards a side table.
Jim approached the table, slowing as he saw the expression on Finney’s face. “Sir?”
Finney leaned heavily on the table. “Drawing a lot of attention... cadet?” The meaning in the tone was obvious.
Jim felt himself deflate a bit. “I’m sorry, sir, but wasn’t it my assignment to act as Skavrin’s assistant and shadow?”
Finney blew out an exasperated breath. “I should have known better than to pair you with a Tellarite, but the Ambassador specifically requested you.” He shook his head to himself. “Yeah, I should have known. Only you would manage to hold up to a debate with a Tellarite.”
“The Ambassador seems pleased,” Jim said hopefully.
Finney smiled enough to let Jim relax just a bit. “Yes, Kirk, he is. And you’re not in trouble. I just want to suggest that you tone it down... not because you’re not performing well as Ambassador Skavrin’s assistant, but because... well... consider the issue of situational awareness.”
Jim frowned. “Sir? The situation is a multi-species reception and diplomatic function following a very successful set of opening remarks in Parliament.”
“When did you become a Vulcan?” Finney sighed, and Jim suddenly realized he looked exhausted.
“Sir... are you okay?”
Instantly, Finney straightened up a bit, standing taller, but his face still looked drawn and there were shadows under his eyes. “It’s been a long day, Kirk. By the time you saw me at the security briefing, I’d been up for several hours. That’s why I looked so awake. I’d already had enough coffee to wake the dead.”
Jim’s mind spun, and he suddenly realized that Finney must have been involved in what Bones had discovered overnight. Of course he was. Bones was a cadet, and Finney was involved in training all cadets on the ship. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Finney waved him off. “All I’m saying... is to remember to read situational awareness outside of the mission briefing. Beyond the obvious. Kirk... Jim... I read your whole academic profile before I accepted you to this internship, and reviewed the results of your Survival and Tactics course before you left sickbay that first day. You’re incredibly observant, and you notice things and put together details that far more seasoned officers might miss.”
“I... uh... thank you, sir.”
Finney just waved him off again. “I’m not saying that to expand your already over-inflated ego.” A friendly smile took the sting out of that one. “I’m telling you that you need to have that ability of yours in full gear at all times on a mission like this. Situational awareness. You were so engaged in your debate with Skavrin... did you notice how many people were listening to every word?”
Jim tilted his head, trying to remember. “There were a few... the two tables next to ours, the Caitian delegate, three of the wait-staff, and...”
“Did you notice the Zhitoran?”
“Wha - oh shi-... no, sir.”
Finney was nodding slowly. “Do you want me to go make nice with the Zhitoran, or are you going to fix it, if it needs fixing?”
Jim swallowed the nausea rising in his gut. “I’ll fix it, sir. I’m an officer intern. I’ve got to fix my own messes, right?”
Finney favored him with a grin, and finally leaned back from the table. “I knew you’d learned a thing or two over the past couple of years.”
“Occasionally,” Jim replied.
Finney gave him a nod of agreement. “Go on. Back to your assignment. We’ll be heading back to the ship in approximately two hours, so there’s still plenty of time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Kirk?” Finney’s grin suddenly became much wider, and somewhat conspiratorial. “I’ve never seen any human hold their own that well against a Tellarite. And you should know... there’s a reason they made Skavrin an Ambassador. He was a champion debater.”
Jim nodded vaguely and turned to work his way back through the crowd as that information sank in. Champion debater? Damn, now he wished he’d captured the debate on holovid. Who would ever believe him?
For ten minutes, Jim worked his way back through the crowd, looking for the Zhitoran Ambassador before giving up. He was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d left for the evening. Maybe Jim’s debate with Skavrin had put him off. Or... maybe Finney had been screwing with Jim, trying to get him to be more situationally aware.
Jim felt a brief flare of annoyance, bordering on defiance, at possibly being played like that... but then... he hadn’t noticed the Zhitoran Ambassador either way. He hadn’t even looked to see if the Zhitoran had been nearby before starting that debate, which meant that Finney was right anyway - he needed to pay more attention.
Feeling like an idiot (almost hearing the word in Bones’ voice), Jim worked his way back to Skavrin’s table, where he found the Ambassador having a slightly less boisterous discussion with... one of the wait-staff?
“...which is a perfectly normal way of - ah, Kirk! We’ve got ourselves a curious Araxian!”
Jim walked up to the table a bit cautiously. Thus far, all evening, the wait-staff had been just as hyper-courteous as the servers on Axanar. Perhaps even more so. Actually... situational awareness, Kirk. Whereas the Axanar waiters had conversed easily, these people almost seemed nervous to engage in conversation. They had offered plentiful refreshments and prompt service, but they had kept their distance, almost - and Jim wasn’t pleased that his mind supplied this analogy first - like a once-abused dog skirting just beyond reach.
Just as quickly, he reasoned that the Araxians had been isolationists for 200 years. When they’d left Axanar, their species was being hunted like animals. Perhaps it would take a while for them to get more comfortable with the idea of other sentient races that weren’t out to kill them.
Pasting a broad, friendly smile on his face, Jim tilted his head - less than a bow, more than a nod. “Hello, I’m Cadet Kirk of the Federation starship Athena. Pleased to meet you.”
The Araxian’s eyes widened slightly, and he gave a deep bow. “My apologies for intruding!”
Jim felt his smile falter. “Apologies? Uh... no need to apologize. After all, this whole event is about meeting new people. And your name is...?”
“I do not -” He stopped and glanced sideways at Skavrin, who gave a solemn nod. “I am called Zhareth,” he finally said. “But I’m here to serve, nothing more, sir.”
Jim spared a glance at Skavrin before focusing on Zhareth. “What are you curious about?”
Zhareth hesitated, then fixed Jim with a gaze that was surprisingly steady, despite the uncertainty in his words. “Well, I... you were arguing, sir. Challenging the Ambassador. He... he outranks you?”
Jim felt his eyebrows go up. So that’s what this about? “The Ambassador is a civilian, so he doesn’t outrank me in terms of Starfleet, but his position is...” Damn, he had to pick his words wisely here. “... superior to mine. I’m here as his assistant. But... okay, so in a way, I was challenging him, but I wasn’t challenging his position or authority. We were having a debate.”
“A glorious debate, Zhareth!” Skavrin interjected. “The interchange of words, testing your mettle, challenging one’s assumptions and seeing whether your own assertions can hold up to scrutiny. It’s the finest form of communication!”
Zhareth’s face screwed up in thought, as if he couldn’t make sense of it. “But your subordinate challenged, you, sir,” he said meekly, then his eyes widened. “And I am challenging you by questioning what you tell me! Oh, I can’t be seen doing this. I should return to my duties.”
“Whoa, hold on,” Jim said, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re supposed to be serving the delegates, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, we’re telling you to relax and join us for a minute.” Jim gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Anyway, as far as the Federation is concerned, even if two people hold different ranks - in Starfleet or society at large - both people have equal value. And when we interact, it’s about mutual respect.”
“Even if you’re challenging a superior? In a debate?” For a brief moment, there was a spark of something sharp and scrutinizing in Zhareth’s expression, eyes narrowing just slightly, but he quickly looked down at the floor then back up at Jim, wary and nervous.
“I’ve challenged plenty of my superiors,” Jim said, trying not to laugh. “Sometimes, I might have pushed it a bit too far... but there’s nothing wrong with challenging or debating someone else, regardless of rank, if you still have respect for their experience and status. At least, that’s how humans work, and so do a lot of other Federations species. Are you telling me that Araxians don’t have debates?”
“We have debates, sir, but... we have been told that we should never debate against a superior, if we’re to remain under his protection.”
That... was an odd statement, Jim thought. “You’ve been told?” That didn’t sound like a person referring to his own wishes. “I thought the Axanar and Araxian system of service and protection was cultural tradition?”
“It is, sir! That is what I meant. I...” He looked over his shoulder, and suddenly shook his head. “Please, allow me to return to my duties. I shall bring you more refreshments, if you desire.”
Jim looked over at Skavrin, who merely shrugged and said, “I would enjoy another round of this exquisite beverage, and perhaps another fruit tart. Anything for you, Kirk?”
Jim shook his head. “No. Nothing.”
Zhareth bowed deeply and hurried off. Jim watched him go. Zhareth didn’t act quite like an Axanar, but then, he was an Araxian. Not that they seemed so different, but then maybe they were. Either way, he was obviously hung up on something.
“Cadet Kirk?” Skavrin asked in the softest tone Jim had ever heard a Tellarite use. “Something of concern?”
Jim looked sideways at him. “I don’t know.”
*********
To Chapter 10