Return to Valjiir Stories
Chekov was in the control room of the hangar bay when the Icarus from the Hood requested boarding clearance. He gave it, then hurried to the bay itself to begin the coordination with whichever officer the shuttle contained. When the tall, familiar figure emerged from the shuttle, the Russian strode over to him with his usual air of efficiency.
“Ah, Lieutenant Commander Paget,” he began, “I believe I have created a workable…”
“Not now, Tovarish,” Paget said as he moved past the navigator.
Chekov followed him. ”You are not here to coordinate…?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure why I’m here,” Paget replied. “I have to get to your Sickbay.”
Chekov’s brown eyes widened. “Is there a Security concern with our transporter accident?” he asked.
The TerAfrican stopped, turning to the Russian. “What do you know about it?”
Chekov frowned. “The Captain said that four of our officers were – ah – divided – um – into… I know it will sound impossible, but…”
“Spill, Pavel!” Jeremy ordered.
“They seemed to have been – split – along racial characteristics,” the navigator explained, trying not to let the absurdity of it show in his voice. “The Captain said there was a Vulcan Commander Spock and a Human one, an Antari and a Human Ruth Valley, an Indiian Mrs. Majiir and one who is Vulcan, although he couldn’t delineate what the distinction there might be for Sulu…”
“Sulu?” Paget interrupted, and the Russian could have sworn his dark skin paled. “Oh sweet Jesus!”
“And I do not understand what that ‘split’ may have been either, but…” Chekov went on.
“You don’t remember…” Jeremy began, then cut himself off. “That’s right, you didn’t spend a lot of time around... but we talked about it in Sickbay after…oh hell, never mind!” He turned on his heel, racing out of the hangar, leaving the navigator to stare after him with puzzled uncertainty and uneasy memory.
Without any deliberation, Daphne Gollub and Noel DelMonde spontaneously and simultaneously decided that in the face of the urgency and severity of the crisis facing them, the next best step would be to pause for a good stiff drink.
After they’d each been steadied by a bracing sip of Chekov’s finest vodka, the chemist turned to the engineer. “So…”
“Do I look like I wanna talk ‘bout this?” DelMonde snarled.
Gollub rolled her eyes. “If I waited for you to look like you wanted to talk about anything…”
“Shut up an’ drink,” the engineer advised.
Still shivering from the memory of double Spocks, his companion found this to be sound counsel and complied. As soon as another sip of the fiery liquid was warming her throat, the chemist’s thoughts once more rolled back to the idea of having a spare Ruth Valley roaming around. She turned again to the engineer. “So…”
“So?” he retorted belligerently.
Gollub put on a big fake smile, as if what she was about to say was a good thing. “I think Antari Ruth likes you.”
“Shut th’ fuck up,” DelMonde recommended before downing the rest of his drink in one swallow.
“Much, much, more than she likes Vulcan Spock,” she continued heedlessly.
The Cajun narrowed his eyes. “Now that you mention it,” he replied with acid defiance. “I t’ink I did notice that.”
“She’s not real,” Daffy reminded him firmly.
“Nope,” the engineer agreed, recapping the vodka bottle.
“Just a transporter malfunction,” Gollub continued.
“Yep.”
“Who will vanish as soon as we figure this thing out.”
“Yep.”
“However long that takes with the xeno-farkaktah-neurophene….”
“Yep.”
“Which,” Daffy pointed out as she swallowed the last of her vodka, “could give you just enough time to get in some quality hot and nasty time with Ms. Golden Pants of the Roving Purple Eye Clan…”
Del frowned at her mightily. “If you tryin’ t’ make a point…”
“…Before she disappears…” the chemist continued obliviously.
“…You best hurry up an’ fuckin’ make it, girlie,” the engineer warned.
“…And Ruth will hate you and herself for the rest of your lives.”
The two old friends glared daggers at each other as several silent, icy moments slipped past.
DelMonde picked up the bottle. “You done?”
Gollub shrugged diffidently. “Just want to make sure you’ve got a grasp of the basics here.”
“Oh, I do,” the Cajun assured her, gathering up the empty glasses.
“And you’re not going to forget when Ms. Flirty-path starts sending the come-hither auras in your direction?” she asked as the engineer returned the vodka to its straw-filled crate and deposited the glasses in the ‘fresher.
“What you want me t’ do?” he growled. “Tattoo a ‘Stop’ sign on th’ inside o’ my eyelids?”
“I was thinking about a different body part,” she replied. “And that’s not to mention Kam…”
Even the warm vodka running though his veins wasn’t enough to stave off the cold shiver that ran down the engineer’s spine. “Let’s not mention him.”
“He’s gonna come after you too…”
“An’ you,” he countered.
Gollub obligingly experienced a rather impressive shudder of her own. “And everything that moves, yeah,” she agreed. “And the hating-you-and-himself-forever-afterwards-when-this-is-all-over – because-it-will-be-over – because-we’re-that-brilliant thing applies there double.”
DelMonde replaced the clean shot glasses to the shelf over his bunk. “I not need no lecture…”
“Really?” Daffy put a hand on her hip. “Because you’ve never struck me as the Yields-Not-to-Temptation type.”
“Oh, you be surprised at what all I not give in to, missy,” he said, returning the crated vodka back to what his roommate erroneously believed to be a good hiding place.
“Good.” Gollub invited, crossing her arms. “Surprise me.”
“C’mon.” The engineer opened the cabin door and gestured her out crossly. “We got work to do. “
The chemist gave a deep, shuddering sigh as she rolled her eyes heavenward and headed for her lab. “Oy, do we ever!”
The Antari version of Ruth Valley stared at the door through which Del and Daffy had exited, then turned to Jade Han. “About that whole confined to Sickbay thing?” she said casually. “I don’t think so.”
“Ruth….” Jade began, then stopped as the Antari vanished. “Damn it!”
“I’m the one who has trouble with teleporting,” the Human Ruth said ruefully. “Not that I could at all now, but…”
“We understand what you mean, beloved,” the Human Spock assured. “Hybrids have both certain strengths and certain limitations.”
“While I concur with the sentiment in general terms,” the Vulcan commander stated, “I confess I cannot think of a specific that could apply to our case.”
Ruth scowled. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
The Vulcan regarded her mildly. “That I cannot find any advantage of consequence within our usual state of being.”
“He hates me,” the Human Spock said quietly. “He thinks me weak and slow and emotional – and he thinks I cripple him.”
“So how is hating not an emotion?” Ruth asked.
Her husband gave her a soft smile. “You’d have to ask him that.”
“And if you did, I would point out that he is in error, a flaw due to the Human propensity for projection.” Spock turned to Jade. “Is that not a correct usage of the term, Doctor?”
Jade looked momentarily taken aback, as if surprised someone was actually talking to her.
“We don’t mean to ignore you, Jade,” Ruth put in. “This whole thing is so twitchy…”
The doctor’s surprise this time was genuine. “Why, thank you, Ruth,” she said, and the Human smiled at her. “While the usage is correct, Spock,” she continued to the Vulcan, “I would argue with your assessment of the situation.”
“Would you indeed?” he replied. “And why would you believe your conclusions would apply to a Vulcan?”
“Because I studied Vulcan psychology, remember?”
“And that study has not yet been accepted by the Council,” Spock reminded.
“Well, they wouldn’t, would they?” the Human Spock said. “They’d have to accept all that messy emotion.”
“The Way of Surak does not deny emotion,” Vulcan Jilla stated calmly. “It only relegates it to its proper place as subordinate to the factors of logic and peaceful intent.”
“You sound like you swallowed a travelogue,” Ruth told her.
“There’s no fanatic like a convert,” Kam joined in.
“Says the man who’s suddenly a Vulcan husband,” the Human Spock commented with clear disapproval.
Kam gazed at him, his eyes moving slowly over the lean figure. “Yes, well, whatever works,” he replied.
“Your thoughts are an abomination, husband,” Jilla said tightly.
“And ewww!” Ruth added.
“Get used to it, wife,” Kam snarled pleasantly at Jilla, then said to Ruth, “and don’t knock threesomes till you’ve tried it.”
“No need to worry, my wife,” the Human Spock countered. “I’m not the least attracted.”
Kam opened his mouth to refute the statement, then glanced at the Vulcan. “Now here’s a surprise,” he murmured. “Must be that ancient Warrior Bond shit.” He moved closer, radiating pure, seductive sensuality. “What do you say, tall, green and handsome?”
“Kroykah!” hissed from both Spock and Jilla, as Jade snapped “that’s quite enough from you, Mr. Sulu!”
Kam laughed. “That’s him,” he said, pointing to the still unconscious figure on the bed.
“Well, that’s taken care of,” Leonard McCoy stated as he entered the room. “Mr. Paget is on his way…” He glanced around then added, “Where’s Ruthie?”
“Right here, Bones,” Ruth replied.
McCoy flushed. “Yes, of course – I meant…”
“I know,” the Human said with sudden, soft sadness. “You don’t think of me as her.” She bent her head and Spock pulled her head to his shoulder. “She’s the one who doesn’t trust you, you know,” Ruth continued. “She doesn’t even really like you, except that she acknowledges you’re as decent a healer as Humans get.”
McCoy moved to her, taking her hand. “Now, Ruthie, honey, I didn’t mean…”
There were tears in the brown eyes when she looked up at him. “I know,” she repeated. “I’m nothing special.”
“That’s not true,” the Human Spock countered. “You’ve still got four doctorates, an A-8 computer rating, a brilliant mind, and all the grace and beauty a man could wish for.”
“But I’m not Antari.”
Spock smiled at her. “You think I love you for your race?”
She returned the smile and kissed him as the wetness slid down her cheeks.
McCoy nodded, a crooked grin coming over his features. “Well, now that we’ve got that settled,” he said, “where is our Antari?”
“She teleported out,” Jade answered with a frown. “She said something about us not being able to confine her to Sickbay.”
“We have to find her,” McCoy said stridently. “We can’t have we wandering around…”
“Why not?” Kam asked. “Why do any of us have to be here – except for the basket cases.” He gestured, indicating the unconscious Indiian and his other self. “I’m perfectly healthy.”
“As am I,” the Vulcan Jilla rejoined. “And I could be of much more use in Engineering.”
“It has already been pointed out that my knowledge would prove useful to Miss Gollub,” the Vulcan Spock added.
“You should make the case to Jim, Jade,” the Human version said. “With both of us – “ he paused, smiling down at Ruth. ” – all three of us working with Sciences, we can make three times the progress.”
“Now, just a damn minute!” McCoy interrupted. “There’s clearly something wrong with all of you, and I don’t let my patients wander all over the ship!”
Jade’s lips were pursed. “They do have a point, Leonard,” she said. “The only ones who need medical attention at the moment are Jilla and Sulu. The Indiian Jilla,” she corrected, acknowledging the Vulcan woman with a nod. “Though I’m not entirely sure – Kam – should be trusted away from surveillance.”
“You don’t trust me?” Kam said, placing a hand over his heart. “Doctor, I’m wounded!”
“You have not shown yourself to be capable of much restraint, my Bonded,” Jilla agreed.
Kam turned to her. “I haven’t kicked your possessive little Vulcan ass, have I?” he countered with dark fury. “Or is that what you’ve been provoking me towards?”
“You do understand you’re making my point,” Jade interrupted.
“What I understand is that there’s no one who can keep me here if I don’t agree to stay,” he snapped.
“There are such things as restraints…” Jade began, then closed her mouth abruptly as if realizing what she’d just said. The sudden lascivious glee in Kam’s dark eyes confirmed the realization.
“And here I thought you couldn’t possibly know me,” he murmured.
“I didn’t mean for me,” Jade countered, trying to keep herself from flushing.
“I can go both ways, honey,” Kam assured, then glanced over his shoulder to the Vulcan Spock. “Keep that in mind, won’t you, kahlrn?”
Both Vulcans both drew up in clear shock as Kam chuckled.
“Okay, babe, cut that shit out,” said the voice of Jeremy Paget.
“Cobra,” Kam breathed, his voice caressing the name like silk. He took two swift steps forward and pulled the taller man into a blatantly passionate kiss.
He is MINE! thundered through every mind present, and Jeremy pulled away, firmly but carefully.
“Your pardon, Lady,” he said to Jilla. “You know how he likes to provoke people.”
“And you’re not shocked?” Kam asked the Hood’s Security Chief pointedly.
“I was told what to expect,” Paget answered.
“Hi, Jer,” Ruth said, and waited while the TerAfrican stared at her.
Finally, he nodded and said, “Shalom, Spike.”
The Human shuddered. “Please, that was her. You wouldn’t catch me dead even near a needle.”
“Because with her level of skill,” Kam interjected, “the only way you’d catch her near a needle is dead.”
“Your constant deprecation is hardly necessary,” a very Human Spock said sternly.
Jade cleared her throat. “Mr. Paget,” she said, “the reason we called you here is…”
On the bed nearest the door, Sulu suddenly bolted upright, screaming “Jeremy!”
“…that,” the doctor finished grimly.
Jeremy was at the bedside before she finished speaking. “I’m here, babe,” he murmured, and Sulu flung himself into the strong arms, sobbing. Paget quickly glanced at the monitors above the bed, then asked, “What’s wrong with him?”
Before either Han or McCoy could respond, Kam said, “I’m not there to protect him from all the big, bad, nasty things our dear Mentor Sick-Fuck did.”
Jeremy stared at him, then shuddered. “Jesus Christ, you mean…?”
Kam snorted. “You didn’t think he was strong enough to deal with it, did you?”
“What in blue blazes are you talkin’ about?” McCoy demanded.
“You’re the Collector!” Ruth suddenly gasped, staring in horror at Kam. The words Sulu had used to try and explain his wrong-headed thinking about LiLing came back to her. “You’re the one who’s promiscuous and egotistical… terrible, vile, odious… the worthless, arrogant, using whore...”
“All except the ‘whore’ part,” Kam admitted with a wicked grin. “That’s somebody else.”
“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod….!”
“Must be a Jewish thing,” Kam commented wryly.
“Enough!” Jade demanded. “Ruth, Spock – Spocks – Jilla, you’re free to go. I’ll clear it with James. Just stay in the labs or Engineering until he has a chance to explain this to the crew.”
“And just who do you think you are, Dr. Han?” McCoy interrupted. “I’m the Chief Medical Officer and until I give the go-ahead…”
“Leonard, there’s too much chaos here,” Jade rejoined. “We won’t be able to treat Sulu, and when Jilla wakes up the emotional atmosphere will cause her to overload. We have to have some semblance of order.”
McCoy grumbled, then gave a curt nod. “All right,” he said, “but you – ” He pointed at Kam. “ – stay here!”
“Make me,” Kam countered.
A soft moan came from the other bed, and Ruth said, “To help her.”
“Why would I want to?” was the blithe retort.
“Christ, Kam, just look at her,” Jeremy said in exasperation.
Kam did. He smiled. “Well, you certainly have a point there,” he said in a sensual murmur.
“Husband…” Jilla began.
“She’s his wife, too,” Jade pointed out quickly.
Jilla frowned. “There is no Bond, Doctor.”
“Except the emotional one,” Han countered.
The Vulcan woman considered, then nodded, though her frown remained.
“Thank you, Lady,” was Jeremy’s heartfelt response.
“See that he behaves appropriately, Mr. Paget,” Jilla warned.
“I’ll do what I can,” the TerAfrican promised.
“Though you might not like what he can do,” was Kam’s cynical rejoinder.
“Oy geveult, can we just go, Spock?” Ruth said.
Both the Vulcan and the Human turned to her with a nearly identical, “Of course, my wife,” then both paused. The Human Spock frowned, the Vulcan Spock inclined his head slightly to one side.
“Uh – I meant…” Ruth stammered, then glanced up at the Vulcan, down at the floor, and leaned against her Human husband’s arm. “I guess I meant him,” she whispered.
“I see,” the Vulcan said. “You are aware that you are my wife as well, are you not?”
“Well… yeah… I guess…. I mean…”
“You don’t act much like a husband,” the Human said tersely. “You’ve spent all your time trying to convince the Antari of it.”
“I assumed the facts were not in question,” the Vulcan responded. “Ruth ani Ramy made it evident that, for her, they were.”
“If you wouldn’t mind, can you continue this discussion somewhere else?” Jade said impatiently.
The Human Spock rose, bringing Ruth with him. “Our cabin, beloved?” he asked.
“Does he have to…” she began.
“Out!” Jade snapped.
“I will be in the Chemistry laboratory,” the Vulcan said, and left the Sickbay without another word.
“We’ll be at home,” Spock told Jade. “We can work from there. Is that all right?”
Ruth gave him a grateful smile.
“Fine,” Jade answered wearily.
“And I will confer with Mr. Scott,” Jilla announced, and she, too, left the room.
Jade sighed. “Leonard, if you can help Mr. Paget with Sulu, I’ll see what – Kam – can do for Jilla.”
“Sorry about pullin’ rank back there, Jade,” McCoy offered apologetically.
Jade shook her head, a wan smile curving her lips. “No need, it’s not like we’re under any stress.”
McCoy returned her smile, then turned to Jeremy as Jade gave a small bow in Kam’s direction.
“If you will?” she said.
“Only if you will,” he replied, then leered and added, “or not.”
“I’m not there to protect him from all the big, bad, nasty things our dear Mentor Sick-Fuck did.”
The words thundered inside Jeremy’s head as he closed his eyes, trying to think of some way to help his best friend. Memory was assailing his mind, and he could only imagine how much worse it must be for Sulu. In all the times he’d thought about the Divine Wind – Noel DelMonde’s term for the darker side of Sulu’s personality – he’d never considered that Kam had actually protected Sulu from the terrible knowledge of all Ruis Calvario had done. He was, of course, well aware that there had been times at the Clave and the Penthouse when Sulu didn’t seem to remember certain details of things that had happened, but he had always put that down to too much amber. But if Kam actually was a separate second personality, and if he actually did keep knowledge from Sulu’s awareness, that could only mean…
“God, Jer, make it stop, make it stop!” Sulu moaned.
Jeremy let the arms that were around him clutch tighter as he strengthened his own embrace.
“I’m here, babe,” he murmured. “It’s gonna be all right.”
“Never,” Sulu sobbed. “Never, never… oh god, it hurts!”
“It’s all over now, darlin’,” Jeremy soothed. “Years and years ago. He’s gone, locked up for the rest of his life, he’ll never…”
“He’s HERE, inside me!” the Asian screamed. “MAKE IT STOP!!”
There was a quiet hiss and Sulu collapsed. Jeremy turned his head to see a very worried Dr. McCoy standing next to the bed with a hypospray.
“I think, son, that you understand what he’s talkin’ about,” the doctor said gruffly, “and I think you need to tell me all about it.”
He’ll never forgive you if you do, came Kam’s taunting voice inside Jeremy’s head.
If I can save his sanity, it’s worth it, Jer replied silently.
Still the same self-sacrificing, pitiful martyr, I see.
Still the same cruel, callous bastard,Jeremy responded.
Kam chuckled. And you love it.
Since there was nothing to say to that – it being absolutely true – Jeremy turned to McCoy.
“I’ll tell you what I know,” he said slowly, “but I’m not sure how much it’s gonna help.”
“You let a doctor be the judge of that,” McCoy responded, and Jeremy ignored the ironic laughter in his head.
Kam sat down on the bed next to Jilla, and stared down at her slightly glowing face. She was beautiful, no doubt about that…
And warm and willing and accepting… she anchors him, gives him the strength to keep me out. Do I really want to help that?
And do I really want to be stuck with just the green icicle?
Could be a challenge.
But you’d only get the heat once every seven years.
From her. Isn’t there that whole Vulcan concubine thing?
And who’d make a better concubine that this sweet, silver perfection here?
He smiled to himself, then leaned over, kissing the awakening Indiian until she started, gasped and pulled away.
“Calm down, honey,” he said. “Daddy’s here.”
She blinked at him, the terror in her grey eyes an aphrodisiac to his senses.
”Su – Sulu…?” she stammered.
He decided to let the incorrect appellation go.
“It’s all right," he murmured, well aware that he was imitating Jeremy’s response. “I’ll take good care of you.”
She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “You cannot,” she whispered. “I am damned.” She swallowed, her voice breaking. “I must go to Court, I must face Aema…”
“In time, sure,” he said, “but what’s the rush? You’ve got eternity, right?”
She moaned, curling in on herself, and Kam grasped her left arm, forcing her tightly-fisted hand open.
“This,” he said, running his thumb along her scar, “belongs to me. You belong to me. Beloved, sainted Selar can damn well wait his fucking turn.”
Jilla gasped, beginning to glow brightly, and Jade Han said, “That’s not exactly the help I had in mind.”
“You want her to live,” Kam answered without looking up at her. “I’ll make her live.”
“What I want…” Jade began, and then Kam did look up at her. She froze under the hawk’s gaze, just as he knew she would.
“We can talk about that a little later, honey,” he said, and grinned. Jilla gasped again, and he returned his attention to her.
“You’re mine,” he said to the Indiian, and pushed his emotions at her. Mine, mine, mine!
He felt her responding and again leaned toward her. “Kiss me,” he murmured, and again reinforced it with a silent command.
Jilla was sobbing, tears washing down her face, but she did as he ordered. When her lips touched his, he grasped the back of her neck, forcing her harshly to him. He put all the skill at his command into the oral embrace, and it took only seconds before Jilla was responding passionately, her hands grasping at him, her body straining towards his.
“That’s my girl,” he chuckled as he broke the kiss. He pulled her close to him, ignoring her shudders of guilt and shame.
“See?” he said to Jade with another fierce smile. “Nothing to it.”
“You haven’t made her want to live,” Jade pointed out.
“But she will,” he countered. “After that, what do you care?”
Ruth and Spock actually made it to their cabin without meeting anyone in the corridor. Once they were inside, they simultaneously pulled each other into a shared embrace.
“If you were ani Ramy,” Spock murmured, “I’d say you did a great job of clearing the corridors, but since you’re not, that was something of a minor miracle.”
“You’re not sorry I’m not, are you?” Ruth asked, biting her lip.
“No,” he returned with a gentle smile, then added, “It’s not easy to love her. You, on the other hand…” He bent his head to kiss her, and she melted against him. “You’re not sorry I’m not him, are you?”
Ruth shivered. “He scares me,” she whispered.
“He can be pretty scary,” Spock acknowledged.
“So can she,” Ruth replied.
“More annoying than frightening.”
“But she’s got all this power…”
“And the Zehara to restrain her. You don’t need to worry about her, beloved.” He kissed the top of her head, then disentangled himself from her arms and took a step toward the desk. “We should tie into the Chemistry lab,” he began.
“Spock?”
He turned back to her.
“Do we have to – I mean, right away?” she said hesitantly. “I mean can’t we just – be for a minute longer?”
He smiled, taking her hand, leading her to the bed. She flushed, and one non-up-swept eyebrow rose.
“This is what you actually meant, isn’t it?” he asked.
Well, no – not that I would say no,” she returned. “I just want to – get comfortable in this skin.”
Spock nodded thoughtfully, “It must be very disconcerting for you,” he offered.
“Yeah – like I don’t know what you’re feeling – or thinking,” she replied.
He smiled again. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t have any reservations about telling you, isn’t it?”
Her brown eyes gazed at him in wonder. “You’re so different…” she began. “Not that I didn’t know you were always in there, it’s just that…”
“I’m much more Vulcan when I’m all together,” he said, then sighed. “I know. He’s so paranoid about seeming Human…”
“It’s funny, I – we… no, I – was always paranoid about seeming too Antari.”
He nodded, and they sat down on the bed together. “You wanted to fit in, and the place you had to fit in was Earth.” His gaze lowered. “I always had to try to fit in on Vulcan.”
“It was really bad, wasn’t it?” Ruth asked softly.
“At times,” Spock replied, then gave a rueful chuckle. “My father never made it any easier.”
“What, no ‘my father is worthy of respect’?” Ruth said with a wry grin.
Spock leaned forward. “That’s Vulcan for ‘he’s a bastard, but he is my father’,” he confided.
She giggled. “I know.” They stared into one another’s eyes for a moment, then Ruth said, “Spock…” then interrupted herself. “You know, that sounds so – harsh.”
“I thought you thought it was a strong name,” he said.
“Well, it is – for a Vulcan. But for you…”
“My mother would have named me Daniel,” he broke in gently.
“Such a good Jewish name!” Ruth responded, deliberately thickening her Israeli accent. She smiled, then said softly, “Daniel.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’d recognize it as me if you called me Daniel.”
Ruth made a face. “Well, there is that,” she conceded.
“However, in private,” he went on, “as an affectionate nickname…”
She put her arms around him, drawing him close. “Daniel,” she whispered in his ear, and he answered, “My beloved,” and pulled her down to the bed with him.
Scotty was carefully continuing the disassembly of the transporter unit that he and DelMonde had begun when Jilla stepped into the transporter room.
“Ach, look at this!” the Chief Engineer was muttering to himself. “That damned film is all over everything!”
“You should be wearing gloves, Mr. Scott,” the Vulcan observed calmly.
Scott jumped, pumping his head on the underside of the console. “Lassie, you near scared me out of my wits!” he exclaimed.
“I would hope not,” she replied, “as you would be of little use without them.” She bent down, handing him a pair of thin, latex work gloves. He took them but scowled at her.
“If Gollub is right about what’s gotten in th’ beastie, it shouldna affect me,” he grumbled.
“To what creature do you refer?” Jilla asked.
Scott blinked at her, then sighed. “Ah, you’ll be as stiff about nomenclature as Spock, now, won’t ya?”
“Correct terminology is important when discussing engineering problems,” was her mild response.
“Aye, but you’ve always known what I meant before, lass.”
The Vulcan paused, staring at him, then repeated, “Yes, but correct terminology is important when…”
“And I said aye, didn’t I?” Scott interrupted. “Get yer gloves on and tell me what ya make of this mess.”
Jilla did so, and visually examined the pieces of machinery before touching anything. “There seems to be ongoing degradation of the circuitry,” she observed.
“That’s why I’m tryin’ to get it all apart,” Scott rejoined. “That should at least slow it down until we know how to clean it.”
“Logical,” Jilla returned, and began working with careful but swift precision.
“At least ya still know engineering,” Scott murmured.
“Of course I do, Mr. Scott,” the Vulcan responded. “Why would you think I would not?”
In answer, the engineer simply shook his head.
One eyebrow rising, Jilla kept working.
Noel DelMonde blinked when a gloved hand landed on his with as much of a resounding smack as heavily padded material can have when landing on more heavily padded material.
“What th’ hell you doin’?” he asked the person standing next to him crossly.
“Quit touching it!” the chemist warned for the thousandth time.
The two of them were working side by side at a protective, sterile-field-generating worktable in the Chem Lab. Elbow-length shielded gloves inserted into the field, allowing them to manipulate the samples of the material found in the transporter’s circuitry.
DelMonde frowned. “You t’ink I jus’ gonna dip out a good scoop an’ start lickin’ it off my fingers or somet’ing?”
Gollub scowled back at him. “So far, the fact that this yummy xenoneuro-treat is mixed into an indigestible solution of accelerants and lubricants has held you off, but I know fear of sudden, painful death only goes so far with you.”
The engineer blew out a long, impatient breath. The memory of Dreamland and the Cajun’s near-fatal attraction to the deadly blue chemical was still fresh enough to prompt Gollub’s over-protectiveness and to explain why DelMonde seemed to keep finding reasons to examine the most cerulean-tinted of the samples.
“Daphne Esther Gollub,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Sometimes I am astounded by th’ high regard o’ me you have managed to develop over th’ decade or so of our acquaintance.”
“You just keep meeting and exceeding my wildest expectations so consistently,” she retorted gruffly as she retrieved the test tube of bluish material he’d been reaching for.
He placed a pair of conspicuously brown samples in the centrifuge. “You know, I t’ink I finally come up wit’ an upside fo’ you datin’ T-Paul.”
“Which is?”
“Ridin’ herd on his dumbfuckery don’t leave you so much time t’ aggravate me.”
“Feeling neglected, are we?” she asked as she removed a pair of tiny, almost completely blue test tubes from the machine. “Don’t worry. I’ll pencil some time in for you and the meshugenah-storm that follows you.”
“Don’t be doin' me no favors.” DelMonde removed his hands from the sleeves so he could place a new set of instruments on the conveyor belt that would take them inside the sterile field. “Where your boyfriend anyway? Too excited by th’ prospect o’ havin’ Double Spocks to moon over t’ work?”
“He’s on non-stop shuttle duty for the duration.” She consulted the chronometer imbedded in the worktable beside them. “If he’s lucky, he’s probably napping in the back of one right now.”
“Wit’ Monique DuBois?” the engineer asked with a faux-innocent smile.
“Oh, yes.” Gollub acknowledged the well-placed barb with a nod. “I definitely need to pencil some time in to deal with you, don’t I?”
“Hey,” the engineer protested, his attention turning back to what the chemist was doing. “What you doin’ wit’ my slides?”
“These are my slides.” Daffy inserted them into the waiting maw of a piece of machinery. “You can have that one if you want one.”
“I gonna need more than one slide to get a good electrospectrograph readin’.”
“Yeah, but we’re obviously going to run the chronoamperometry first,” Gollub said, punching instructions into her equipment. “You can work on a nonlinear regressive voltammetry if you want to get started.”
“Obviously, my ass,” the engineer retorted. “Th’ firs’ t’ing we gotta figure out is how t’ get this shit out o’ the transporter mechanism.”
Daffy nodded, but continued to feed slides into the machine of her choice. “Right after we figure out exactly how it’s able to affect the mechanism at all.”
“Oh, hell, no. By th’ time we done that…”
“By that time,” a new voice interrupted, entering the lab abruptly, “perhaps the two of you will have ceased to engage in childish bickering and managed to satisfactorily complete at least one simple task with a modicum of professionalism.”
Vulcan Spock somehow looked bigger, taller, and more… pointed than the old Spock ever had.
“Oh God!” Gollub exclaimed, so rattled she almost dropped the remaining prepared slides she was holding.
“Oh hell,” DelMonde growled.
“Emotional outbursts are as unnecessary as they are counterproductive.” The Vulcan swept past the engineer with icy disdain. “I advise that you cease to waste valuable time on them. Report, Lieutenant.”
Before Gollub’s suddenly non-functioning lips could turn her panicked stammer into anything resembling words, DelMonde crossed his arms and said, “I thought you was still confined t’ Sickbay.”
The Science Officer turned to stare contemptuously down his long Vulcan nose at the Cajun. “You are working on out-dated information, engineer.”
Even to a non-telepath, it was clear his comment was more about Del’s past relationship with his wife than about his own duty status.
Daffy saw a muscle in the engineer’s cheek clench dangerously. “Del…” she tried to warn him.
“Oh, am I now?” the Cajun asked, his eyes narrowed.
“As usual, I find your lack of military decorum offensive and your refusal to pay proper deference to a superior unacceptable,” the Vulcan replied, his lip curling contemptuously. “Amend your tone and correct your manner or I will be forced to place you on report for insubordination.”
“Del….” Gollub pleaded.
The engineer ignored her as he crossed his arms insolently. “An’ how much store you t’ink Starfleet gonna put on a report from a figment of th’ transporter’s imagination?”
Daffy swallowed. “Oh, God…”
“If you check the duty roster,” the Vulcan replied with deadly chill, “I believe you will find that I am still listed on the active roll.”
“Yeah, but they two o’ you now,” the Cajun retorted readily. “I ‘fraid I be needin’ some further clarification on which end o’ the jackass I supposed to salute.”
Gollub closed her eyes. “Oh God…!!”
“Lieutenant,” the Science Officer began.
“Vulcan!” Antari Ruth managed to make an even more abrupt entrance than her partner had, seeming to pop in out of thin air. “evan Louisa is under my protection,” she proclaimed, stepping between the two men, her violet eyes blazing. “Threaten him and you’ll have to deal with me.”
“My wife,” the Vulcan said, loading the word with twenty times the emotion than someone of his race was supposed to feel in a year. “You will cease to make a spectacle of yourself over this….” He loaded the word with a lifetime-worth of scorn. “…Human. You will return to Sickbay immediately.”
“If I was your wife,” ani Ramy replied with a brilliantly sarcastic smile. “I guess I might.”
“To hell wit’ this shit,” DelMonde said, snatching up his toolkit and heading for the door. “Daf, send the damned results t’ me in Engineering.”
“Consider yourself on report, Mr. DelMonde,” the Vulcan sneered at the engineer as he passed.
“I assure you I give it all th’ consideration it merit, Mr. Half-Spock,” the Cajun retorted as he stalked out into the corridor.
Gollub winced. “Oh, Del…”
“My wife,” the Vulcan ordered, turning on his heel to exit from a different portal without waiting to see if he’d be obeyed. “Attend.”
“As if,” the Antari replied, unmoving. She turned her huge purple eyes on the chemist in a manner that clearly communicated that she was fully aware of how much blame Gollub was placing on her for the current situation. “You want to say something, Human?”
“Slut,” Daffy pronounced unrepentantly.
“Bitch,” the Antari retorted in a more serious than usual version of their name-calling game.
“Whore,” Gollub replied in kind.
“Jealous,” the twin Ruth concluded with a particularly bratty smile.
“Desperate,” the chemist accused.
“Hardly,” the Antari replied with a laugh, then faded away Cheshire-cat style until only her dazzlingly superior grin briefly remained. “Divine, actually.”
“Oy.” The suddenly alone chemist turned and spat on the floor to ward off the evil purple eye of particularly bratty, all-powerful Antaris.
“Okay,” Gollub muttered to herself as she switched the equipment over to run the test DelMonde had asked for. “Job One: Turn scary, nasty twins back to being their old, merely annoying selves...”
It took a while, but Jim had finally composed the announcement he knew he had to make to his crew. He’d consulted with McCoy and Han, and though he wasn’t entirely sure he approved of their decision to let the newly created twins out of Sickbay, he understood their reasoning – and realized that there wasn’t anything anyone could do about the Antari Ruth Valley in that regard anyway. Which was another worry altogether. He was glad they’d kept the alternate version of Sulu under wraps. The thought of the darker side of Sulu’s nature with Antari-like powers running loose on his ship made his skin crawl.
He took a conscious deep breath, then signaled to Uhura for a ship-wide link.
“Ladies and Gentleman, this is the Captain,” he began. He noted that everyone on the Bridge turned to him. “There has been a rather strange mishap with the ship’s transporters, due to a contamination from the surface of Theraxa 3. We don’t, as yet, know precisely how this malfunction occurred, but it somehow created two versions of Mr. Spock, Lieutenant Ruth Valley, Lieutenant Jilla Majiir and Lieutenant Commander Sulu – in the first three cases, causing a split along racial characteristics, which means we now have a Human and a Vulcan Spock, a Human and an Antari Miss Valley, and an Indiian and a Vulcan Mrs. Majiir. The splitting of Mr. Sulu is less clear, though it is fair to say that the differences are just as obvious. Both Engineering and Sciences are working to find a way to correct this problem and return our officers to their usual states of being. However, the – twins – have been given leave to aid in this endeavor, as each possesses all the knowledge of the whole person. You will react to each of them as you would to the whole. I’m afraid that’s all the information we have at present. Kirk out.”
As he closed the intercom, and heard the murmurs around him, all variations of “holy shit,” it occurred to him that, at least in the Antari’s case, it was likely literally true.
That’s not very nice, evan Dorothy, came dulcet tones in his head.
Having half-expected it, Jim wasn’t startled. Sorry, Miss Valley, he thought as loudly as he could. Humans don’t usually censor the thoughts in their heads.
Don’t I know it, ani Ramy giggled. You usually think of me as ‘angel.’
Which is usually followed by thoughts of giving you a good spanking, Jim scowled.
And other things, she agreed blithely. Both of which I found thoroughly enjoyable, by the way.
The captain felt himself flushing. You’re a married woman, Miss Valley.
Says who? she asked, then gave a deliciously sexual laugh and was gone.
Jim took a completely unconscious deep breath, and turned slightly as Uhura came up behind him.
“This is going to pose a problem, isn’t it Captain?” she said, her worry clear in her tone of voice.
“Uhura,” he sighed, “you don’t know the half of it.”
“Alright, Mr. Paget,” McCoy said as he led the Security Chief into his office. “What can you tell me about what’s wrong with Mr. Sulu?”
Jeremy sat down in the chair McCoy indicated, and let out a deep sigh. “This is gonna be doctor-patient confidential, right?” he began.
McCoy frowned. “I can’t promise that,” he answered. “I may have to consult with Jade, and the captain will have to know some of it…”
“As much as possible then?” Jeremy insisted.
“I can’t say that until I’ve heard what…”
“Then I can’t say much,” Paget interrupted. The two men stared at each other, then Jeremy sighed again. “Can I at least have some kind of say in what you tell Captain Kirk?”
“I think I can give you limited veto power,” McCoy replied, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners, then he leaned forward. “Whatever you’re gonna tell me is some kind of whopper, isn’t it, son?”
“You could say that,” Jeremy responded. There was sudden, dark laughter in his head, and he ignored it. He spread his hands on his knees, took a deep breath, and blew it out. “What do you know about the case involving Ruis Calvario?”
The doctor scowled. “Who?”
Shit! “He was a rich, Terran entrepreneur who was convicted of a rather lengthy string of murders about eight years ago,” Paget said keeping his voice as neutral as he could.
Can’t say ‘Hunter,’ Cobra? Kam murmured silkily.
If he doesn’t know who Cal was, how would he know the name? Jer replied silently, then continued to McCoy. “He’s on Elba II now – and I hope he rots there.”
Kam’s chuckle was grim and yet somehow provocative.
“These murders…” McCoy broke in. “Friends of yours?”
“Some of them,” Paget admitted.
“And of Sulu’s?” the doctor pressed.
Jeremy nodded.
McCoy sat back and rubbed his thumb along his jaw. “He’s re-living something to do with them, isn’t he?” he said with what Jeremy thought was rather amazing perceptivity.
“Yeah,” Paget said.
Wow, he’s good, Kam smirked. Better keep a close eye on him, babe.
After a moment’s silent contemplation, McCoy stated, “Post traumatic stress.”
“Something like that, I guess,” Jeremy agreed.
The ‘something’ being less than half the truth, Kam remarked.
Will you shut up? Jeremy retorted irritably.
And the ‘I guess’ was a nice if feeble attempt to keep him from knowing you’re a doctor too, the disembodied voice went on.
I asked you to shut up.
You did, didn’t you? Kam mused. Well, since it was a request…
The voice faded with wicked laughter.
“Can you get him to realize that what he’s going through isn’t in the present?” McCoy suggested.
“I’ve got to get through to him first,” Paget returned grimly.
“Which he can’t do if Sulu remains sedated,” Jade Han put in, and Jeremy turned his head to see the pretty Asian doctor leaning against the doorframe of McCoy’s office.
“How’s Jilla?” McCoy asked her, with, Jeremy noted, no sense of annoyance that she’d been eavesdropping.
“She’ll live – for now,” Jade answered, her tone making it clear that she wasn’t exactly satisfied with that state. “Mr. Paget, how long did Sulu associate with Mr. Calvario before he was apprehended?”
“Not too long,” Jeremy prevaricated. Then, with a small start at the mental kick Kam gave him, clarified, “Uh – about three years – ” Another silent, painful nudge. “ – on a regular basis, then another two on breaks from the Academy,” he added ruefully.
“Years?” Jade repeated. “He spent years with that madman?”
“You know about him, Jade?” McCoy asked.
“I was asked to consult on his case,” Jade informed them. “I declined.”
Smart woman, Kam commented. “What can you tell us about him?” McCoy said.
Can’t wait to hear this, Kam chuckled.
What happened to you shutting up? Jeremy scowled.
I did, Kam retorted. For almost a minute. Aren’t I wonderful?
There was no way Jeremy could stifle the unconscious shiver of both dread and longing, so he didn’t even try. He swiftly considered all the words he could use, then settled on the description that was now almost universally used for the old man.
“He’s a sick-fuck,” he said. “A manipulative, jaded, conscienceless, evil sick-fuck.”
McCoy frowned. “Surely, a man that openly…” he began.
Jade cut him off. “And?” she prompted.
Paget didn’t like the way she was studying him, but he conceded her expertise and went on. “And he was charming and friendly and generous and persuasive. No one suspected what he was capable of.” Except me.
And those of us who knew better from personal experience, Kam interjected. And you never liked him.
Because I knew something about him was evil, Jeremy said in silent agreement.
And you at least tried to warn him, Kam went on, surprisingly gently. Then the darkness returned, doubled. Which is more than I can say for certain telepaths.
You can’t blame him, Jeremy replied, his thoughts filled with sudden fear for Noel DelMonde. He was dealin’ with a shitload of his own…
Like that’s en excuse? Kam said with a snort that didn’t sound at all amused. But pay attention now, honey, the pretty doctor is talkin’ to you.
Jeremy returned his attention to the doctors in time to catch the last of Jade’s sentence.
“…relationship did Sulu have with him?”
Paget scowled, even though he knew this was one of the things he was going to have to reveal. “This has got to be in confidence, Dr. Han, Dr. McCoy,” he warned.
They glanced at each other, then both nodded.
“We were racers,” the Security man said, his voice low. “Illegal needle racing...”
“At the Clave?” Jade interrupted.
The TerAfrican glanced quickly at her.
Does she know everything? Kam mocked, voicing the words that had formed in Jeremy’s mind.
Looks like, Jeremy answered him, then answered Jade as well.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “And Cal – Ruis Calvario was a patron. He gave financing and parties and provided crash space and…” He actually had to swallow before he continued. “… free food and drink and sex and drugs.” He paused. “Lots and lots of drugs.”
Lots and lots of sex, too, Kam chuckled with wicked innuendo.
I don’t wanna know, Jeremy growled.
You didn’t seem to mind then, was the cool reminder, and Paget shivered.
“And Sulu…?” Jade asked after a significant pause of her own.
“Was his favorite,” Paget said quietly.
“Favorite for what?” McCoy rejoined.
Jade rolled her eyes. “Leonard, please,” she said. “Even you aren’t that provincial.”
“Just gettin’ the facts on record, Jade,” the older doctor clarified.
“Well, the facts are that the sick-fuck did a real number on Sulu’s head,” Jeremy continued.
And on the body… and the spirit… and the soul, if there even is such a thing... Kam supplied, his tone more than insouciant.
“And,” Jeremy went on before his protective instincts could censor his mouth, “Sulu blames himself for not knowing what Cal was. For not stopping him.”
“And Mr. Calvario was a charming and friendly and generous and persuasive manipulative, jaded, conscienceless, evil sick-fuck – ” Jade took a breath. “ – with Sulu.”
Jeremy ignored the dark laughter, mocking applause, and cries of Brava, Doctor, brava! that sounded in his head and nodded.
“For years,” Jade pressed.
Paget gave another, more miserable nod.
“Which is why he feels he should have known Calvario was the Hunter,” the doctor pushed. “Because he knew what the man was capable of.”
“The Hunter?” McCoy asked.
“That was the name Calvario used when he was killing,” Jade answered, then gazed at Jeremy, waiting.
“Yes, all right!” Jeremy finally snapped. “And what you’re seeing now is the hell Sulu lives in inside his head all the damn time!”
Except when I’m there to keep it all from his delicate little sensibilities, Kam reminded with impious amusement.
After a moment, Jade asked gently, “And just why is it coming out now, Mr. Paget?”
Jeremy groaned inwardly as Kam’s laughter ran all through him, then decided to tell the too-perceptive doctor the absolute truth and risk opening up the entire can of worms, because he couldn’t think of any other way to help the poor, agonized man he loved.
“Because Kam’s not there to keep it from him,” he said.