50. Splinter50. Splinter
Pavel Chekov could still remember when he was a boy and his mother dropped a glass bowl onto the hard floor of their kitchen. The bowl had shattered, shards of crystal skidding across the marble surface. To a six year old it had been terrifying to watch the ancient and sturdy bowl almost explode and in a second become nothing. That idea, of something breaking so quickly, so totally had been earth shattering for the boy.
Then, years and years later, he saw it all over again. He never would have guessed that the Five Year mission would end this way. Becoming a ship's navigator at twenty-two had been insane. Working with legends has been unimaginable. And for three years he'd watched one of the most fascinating and strange bond form, not just between three incredible men, but the whole crew. Not to sound like a child, but Pavel had learned to adore his captain and in time to love his commander and other officers as well. They were the unbreakable team; Kirk, Spock and
49. Dice49. Dice
Spock rolled the two cubes in his hand, frowning in concentration as he analyzed the markings on each of the six sides. "Fascinating, even in a culture as different from earth as this, beings still have the need for such devices of chance."
McCoy grinned. "Everyone loves a good game of chance. Nothing like the thrill of a little uncertainty."
"It seems an illogical and dangerous habit for one of your position."
"Well I think I can indulge on occasion, seeing as how I've got you to balance things out."
48. Cold48. Cold
Spock heard the whispers long before any of the ensigns finally addressed him. The woman was tiny, with large nervous eyes and messy hair; her overall appearance showed long nights of hard, endless work and stress. Stammering, she handed over a data pad.
"S-sir, this is the completed data for trials A through D b-but... E and F need to be redone. There was some contamination with the samples..."
Spock's eyes narrowed. "I expressly said that the samples would need special care. This will set back our research by three-point-seventeen days time..." The Vulcan was already calculating the extra work that would need to be done to get the project back on track.
"We're so sorry." The ensign whimpered. "I know that you told us to use the containers at all times but-"
"It would have been the correct procedure as I stated at the beginning of the experimentation process. In the future, please, endever to follow my instructions."
As he walked off he could hear the young woman's fri
47. Autumn47. Autumn
"I love when the trees change color." McCoy sat on his friend's bed, lounging back with a glass of ale and a grin on his face. "Cool air, cloudy skies, all in all it's a pretty nice time of the year."
"If feels too…drab for me." Jim smiled down at him and sipped his own drink. "But to each their own. Sorry you had to leave?"
Hauling himself up, the good doctor shrugged. "I suppose. Wasn't planning on traveling around in one of these blasted things but I figured this way I could keep an eye on you."
The young captain bit back a giggle. "Glad to have you on board."
The country doctor's eyes softened. "I hear it's been a rough start."
"You heard right." Jim's eyes seemed to darken and shut off. "I never thought I'd be burying a friend so soon. I know it's always a risk but…"
"It's a part of life Jim." McCoy quickly moved to his side, throwing a friendly arm around his shoulder. "I know Gary and I never got along but I was sad to hear about what happened."
46. Grove46. Grove
"I can still appreciate it, doctor."
"Like hell you can."
"You make an error in assuming that my-"
Jim tuned out his friends and smiled up at the blue sky, shrugging off his jacket absentmindedly. The Starfleet captain was more relaxed than he had been in months and the grounds of the latest castle they'd visited were lovely. Lush green trees flecked with deep red fruits and golden-green vines towered over them in orderly lines; seated on soft, thick grass. Leaves danced on the cool evening breeze as the three men walked through the fruit grove.
Spock and McCoy had trailed off as they realized that Jim had wandered ahead with a dreamy look. The doctor sighed and raised his voice.
"Dammit Jim, put on your jacket. It's too chilly for that."
"I'm fine Bones." The young man tossed it to Spock, who frowned at him but accepted the extra layer. "They had places like this in Iowa. Always loved picking fruit in the summer."
"It is truly a lovely location."
"I still say that som
45. Jail45. Jail
Spock sank to his knees and rested, sending one last look at the barred window. He had to admit there might have been some…irritation in said look, but even a Vulcan would be slightly affected by such a situation. He was becoming increasingly aware that landing in cells such as the one he currently found himself was a regular part of his job. Whether or not it was his Captain's fault, they did seem to be incarcerated quite often. For someone who went through much of his life without so much as a reprimand, Spock had become quite a trouble magnet; no doubt a result of his proximity to humans.
Looking from his own cell to the one next to it, he had to bite down a call. He'd been trying to make contact with his friend for a hour and fifteen-point-thirty three minutes and if Jim hadn't responded yet then there was a good chance he wouldn't this time. Spock could see just a little bit of Jim's shoulder and head from around the corner but couldn't see the extent of his
44. Burn44. Burn
"Dammit Spock…" McCoy looked up nervously at the sound of footsteps above and put a bit more pressure on the wound that marred the Vulcan's side. Spock eyed his blood soaked shirt and tried to sit up.
"It's fascinating how effective their muskets are… For such unwieldy weapons they certainly-"
"Spock, dammit, I am covered in green blood and Jim's been gone for almost fifteen minutes-"
"Fourteen minutes and thirty-nine seco-"
"Spock shut up! I am not in the mood for your Vulcan stoicism or logic, just hold still and let me help you!"
Spock wisely kept silent and settled back against the cellar wall. McCoy sighed.
"Only on this blasted ship… You know that of all the current commanding officers onboard starships, you and Jim comprise half of the injuries sustained over the last year." The doctor shook his head. "Some of the other CMOs wonder how I keep sane."
Spock actually opened his mouth but then decided against it. "If my calculations are correct,
43. Pest43. Pest
Spock absentmindedly stroked the small ball of fur on the table at his side and read. It was a quiet, uneventful evening after an uneventful shift and the Vulcan was enjoying the calm before whatever storm they would no doubt be pulled into soon enough. Then the pounding on the door started and Spock sighed as the door swished open and Jim barreled in with his usual enthusiasm before freezing in mid-step.
"...I did ask for all of those to be removed from my ship, right?"
"I would use a term closer to 'ordered' than 'ask' but, yes, you did."
Jim stared distrustfully at the creature, which purred and moved slowly around the table. "So what do you call that?"
Whoever decided that Vulcans had no concept of humor or sarcasm needed to be shot. Jim gritted his teeth. "And what is that pest doing onboard?"
"It seems our sweep of the ship missed one. I planned on keeping it in my quarters until we reach a planet or base where we can safel
42. Boot42. Boot
Scotty looked up from his computer as the doors swished open. It was late and only the skeleton crew was at their posts since they were currently docked at a base for new shipments. So the engineer wasn't really expecting anyone to come calling. He blinked at the sight of Chekov standing awkwardly in the doorway and looking around.
"Lad? D'you need my assistance with somethin'?"
Starting, the ensign shook his head. "No… No, I am fine. I was just…Some of the others have taken my boots…"
Scotty frowned. "They…took your boots?"
Chekov shrugged. "It's a game."
"Not a very funny one."
The young Russian shuffled his feet. "No… Not a wery funny one."
"Not at all. Do the lads do this to you often?"
Chekov wandered over, his sock clad feet silent on the hard floor. "Not as often as when I was in ze academy."
"Hard being a young 'un. Imagine you were the youngest in all your classes?"
"Mostly, yes." Chekov shrugged. "It's not so bad, I don't thi