The Man Trap - S1Ep1
Sometimes, he can be the most idiotic, lead-brained mental deficient to ever serve in Starfleet. Routine mission, Jim says. A good chance to get you some time planetside, Jim says. And then he mentions who, exactly, these 'routine' health checks are on. Sneaky bastard. And more the fool him, for not immediately delegating two of his medics to go! No, instead he's just been beamed down to this sandy, miserable planet so Jim can poke fun at him while they head to Carter's home camp. Flowers indeed. He can't understand why she'd be happy here. She loved San Francisco, the water, the clear blue sky...
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She hasn't aged a day. Not a single blessed day. Some people have all the luck. And she remembers his name (and, tragically, her nickname for him, Jim's never going to let that go), must've made more of an impression than he thought. He'll have to talk to Darnell later. Didn't his momma teach him any manners? Rigley's Pleasure Planet, honestly. At least the boy hadn't forgotten how to take commands in his attempt to drown in his own damn hormones.
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Bob Carter, at least on initial impression, is a very unpleasant sort of fellow. What the hell was Nancy thinking? She could have done better than to end up with a cranky old hermit like him. At least he knows when to back down. 'Archaic tools'. He's one to talk.
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Darnell. Oh hell, son... He was barely 21. Not yet a full doctor, he'd have to go back to Earth for that training, but he had a solid background, and was a fine EMT. A fine young man. And what eats at his conscious is he ran to Nancy first. God, what's wrong with him?
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Scratch that. What's wrong with Darnell? He'll be damned if he can find a single thing wrong with him. Other than looking like he ran into a grove of poison ivy, the boy's fine. Just dead, is all. Stone dead. Now Jim's angry, rightfully so, but he doesn't have any answers that'll make him less angry. Fact is, Nancy lied to them. He doesn't have any answer to that, either.
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Salt. Gently he thumps his skull against the nearest bulkhead. Maybe that'll rattle his brains back into order. He didn't check basic electrolytes. Well, actually, he did, he just ignored it, too busy looking for a poison. Ignored the big fat zeros where the values for sodium and chloride should be. Something he would have ripped his residents up one side and down the other for back at Starfleet General on Earth. There's nothing for it. He reaches out and presses a button. "Dispensary to the Bridge."
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My God. He's met some obstinate people in his day, but Bob Carter takes the cake. Can't he see they're just trying to help? Something's down here that can kill a man instantly. ... Something Nancy lied to them about. And then the damn-fool man runs. Some day he's going to write his memoirs, and in it, he's going to say 'and Bob Carter, famed archeologist, was an utter IMBECILE.'
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Sturgeon. Sturgeon is dead. That's two of his own damn section down. Sturges had a girlfriend, back on his home planet. Sent her letters every single day. Greene looks like he's got a touch of heatstroke too - damn glassy-eyed. But first they need to find Nancy. She might have lied to them, but... damnit, they have to find her. He can't have her on his conscious too.
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3F 127. Not the most romantic or poetic of addresses he's ever held, but usually it's a safe haven at the end of a long day. Tonight though. Tonight, he can't sleep. Thinking of Nancy. Of Nancy, and of Sturgeon and his poor girlfriend, and of Darnell. This whole damn mess that he can't quite make sense of. Red pills, he says. Like he doesn't have a bottle full right here. Cheeky bastard. Maybe he'll head down to the hydroponics bay. It's peaceful there, maybe some of it will rub off. But she's in the corridor, and yes, she does look older, twelve years older, but... Somehow... He's not sure how he got sweet-talked into taking the pills instead of staying up and talking to her, going to yell at Kirk for not telling him that Crater and Nancy had been found, answering that medical page... Nancy will take care of it.
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She's shaking him, crying, sobbing, near-screaming. Clawing his way out of the drugged fog he's in isn't easy, and he barely has time to comprehend that she thinks someone wants to kill her when Kirk sweeps into the room.
With a phaser.
It doesn't make sense, and the drugs aren't letting him think, but he's sure on one thing - no one is killing anyone around here. Kirk's acting like a madman, Nancy's frightened, and no one's answering questions.
It doesn't make sense.
He has a phaser in his hand. Kirk's phaser. It doesn't make sense.
Nancy has her hands on Kirk's face.
Spock, shouting that it isn't Nancy.
Spock hitting Nancy, over and over and over. It doesn't make sense. God, he wishes he wasn't drugged. He can't think. She shouldn't still be standing, Vulcans can hit like a pile-driver, and even one connected hit like that should have cracked her neck.
Then she hits back. It doesn't make sense.
It doesn't make sense, but that can't be Nancy.
And then it makes sense, all in a rush, as Nancy fades into another creature, one that can't look at him with loving, accusing eyes. He shoots, as Kirk screams.
Oh Nancy. Why did it have to change back into Nancy? He'll have nightmares about this for the rest of his life, he's sure. He asks for God's forgiveness as he shoots again, killing the creature that isn't Nancy, but he's pretty sure he's not going to get it.
___________________________________________________________________________
She hasn't aged a day. Not a single blessed day. Some people have all the luck. And she remembers his name (and, tragically, her nickname for him, Jim's never going to let that go), must've made more of an impression than he thought. He'll have to talk to Darnell later. Didn't his momma teach him any manners? Rigley's Pleasure Planet, honestly. At least the boy hadn't forgotten how to take commands in his attempt to drown in his own damn hormones.
_________________________________________________________________________
Bob Carter, at least on initial impression, is a very unpleasant sort of fellow. What the hell was Nancy thinking? She could have done better than to end up with a cranky old hermit like him. At least he knows when to back down. 'Archaic tools'. He's one to talk.
____________________________________________________________________________
Darnell. Oh hell, son... He was barely 21. Not yet a full doctor, he'd have to go back to Earth for that training, but he had a solid background, and was a fine EMT. A fine young man. And what eats at his conscious is he ran to Nancy first. God, what's wrong with him?
_________________________________________________________________________
Scratch that. What's wrong with Darnell? He'll be damned if he can find a single thing wrong with him. Other than looking like he ran into a grove of poison ivy, the boy's fine. Just dead, is all. Stone dead. Now Jim's angry, rightfully so, but he doesn't have any answers that'll make him less angry. Fact is, Nancy lied to them. He doesn't have any answer to that, either.
_________________________________________________________________________
Salt. Gently he thumps his skull against the nearest bulkhead. Maybe that'll rattle his brains back into order. He didn't check basic electrolytes. Well, actually, he did, he just ignored it, too busy looking for a poison. Ignored the big fat zeros where the values for sodium and chloride should be. Something he would have ripped his residents up one side and down the other for back at Starfleet General on Earth. There's nothing for it. He reaches out and presses a button. "Dispensary to the Bridge."
__________________________________________________________________________
My God. He's met some obstinate people in his day, but Bob Carter takes the cake. Can't he see they're just trying to help? Something's down here that can kill a man instantly. ... Something Nancy lied to them about. And then the damn-fool man runs. Some day he's going to write his memoirs, and in it, he's going to say 'and Bob Carter, famed archeologist, was an utter IMBECILE.'
__________________________________________________________________________
Sturgeon. Sturgeon is dead. That's two of his own damn section down. Sturges had a girlfriend, back on his home planet. Sent her letters every single day. Greene looks like he's got a touch of heatstroke too - damn glassy-eyed. But first they need to find Nancy. She might have lied to them, but... damnit, they have to find her. He can't have her on his conscious too.
___________________________________________________________________________
3F 127. Not the most romantic or poetic of addresses he's ever held, but usually it's a safe haven at the end of a long day. Tonight though. Tonight, he can't sleep. Thinking of Nancy. Of Nancy, and of Sturgeon and his poor girlfriend, and of Darnell. This whole damn mess that he can't quite make sense of. Red pills, he says. Like he doesn't have a bottle full right here. Cheeky bastard. Maybe he'll head down to the hydroponics bay. It's peaceful there, maybe some of it will rub off. But she's in the corridor, and yes, she does look older, twelve years older, but... Somehow... He's not sure how he got sweet-talked into taking the pills instead of staying up and talking to her, going to yell at Kirk for not telling him that Crater and Nancy had been found, answering that medical page... Nancy will take care of it.
___________________________________________________________________________
She's shaking him, crying, sobbing, near-screaming. Clawing his way out of the drugged fog he's in isn't easy, and he barely has time to comprehend that she thinks someone wants to kill her when Kirk sweeps into the room.
With a phaser.
It doesn't make sense, and the drugs aren't letting him think, but he's sure on one thing - no one is killing anyone around here. Kirk's acting like a madman, Nancy's frightened, and no one's answering questions.
It doesn't make sense.
He has a phaser in his hand. Kirk's phaser. It doesn't make sense.
Nancy has her hands on Kirk's face.
Spock, shouting that it isn't Nancy.
Spock hitting Nancy, over and over and over. It doesn't make sense. God, he wishes he wasn't drugged. He can't think. She shouldn't still be standing, Vulcans can hit like a pile-driver, and even one connected hit like that should have cracked her neck.
Then she hits back. It doesn't make sense.
It doesn't make sense, but that can't be Nancy.
And then it makes sense, all in a rush, as Nancy fades into another creature, one that can't look at him with loving, accusing eyes. He shoots, as Kirk screams.
Oh Nancy. Why did it have to change back into Nancy? He'll have nightmares about this for the rest of his life, he's sure. He asks for God's forgiveness as he shoots again, killing the creature that isn't Nancy, but he's pretty sure he's not going to get it.