From: rob4654@webtv.net (Rob Morris)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: REP/REV:Starting Over (TOS/NG/Au) 4/5, PG13
Starting Over
by Rob Morris
Chapter 4 - A Battle Of Comic Proportions
On Earth was a woman, an Admiral of some great note. She was 125, one
of seven people that everyone in StarFleet and nearly all the Federation
knew without knowing. To coin a phrase, she was the cute one. Once upon
a time, she was deathly afraid of becoming a hag, brutal, manipulative
and ruthless. But those who really knew her also knew the truth. She had
held her looks rather well. As to the rest, those qualities served her
well as head of StarFleet's Personnel ReAcquisition Authority. She found
the talent that had called it a day, and got them to take a night on the
town. For a woman whose name meant 'Freedom', very few entered her
office without re-enlisting, sometimes after long absences. Like a
century.
When James T. Kirk had made his most recent return from the dead, it
had been Admiral Nyota Uhura who had taken her now junior officer aside
and convinced him to take up the position he was seemingly born to. He
would always love her for getting him to once again be Captain Of The
Enterprise, and would never quite forgive the trick she pulled to get
him to do it. But that was a private concern between the two of them,
and them alone. So of course it was being whispered all over StarFleet.
That, tale, however, is the concern of another day.
Now, her old friend needed a new Chief Medical Officer. The former
one, the grief-stricken Beverly Crusher, was resigning from StarFleet
after the tragic death of Jean-Luc Picard on Veridian III. She was as
strong as they came, but she had never truly girded herself for the
possibility of her friend, Captain, and sometime lover simply not being
there anymore. In StarFleet, that was a career-threatening mistake.
Kirk's 'death' on the Enterprise-B had joined with other personal
tragedies to drive Leonard McCoy into a drunken binge. Not that the
other five had done that much better, at first. Pavel and Hikaru,
Captains of The B and The Excelsior, respectively, had gotten into a
sibling-type feud over Command procedure. Spock became a bit strident in
his Ambassadorial duties. Uhura, now Chekov's Number One, took a while
to realize that being XO meant kicking some Center-Seat Butt once in a
while. But they got past that bad time, and so would Beverly.
( Writer's note : Thanx To Randy Landers for the preceding paragraph,
precised from 'Chekov's Enterprise' - Read It!)
Before meeting with Beverly, who was helping her to find that
replacement CMO, she stood again in front of what, for 60 years, may as
well have been a coffin. In it lay her other Captain, her other friend,
and, at least on ten occasions, lover. In a life like hers, one
remembered the repeaters. But now, it was coffin no more. His disease
was cured, and Admiral Uhura was permitted to break the seal on the
stasis chamber. The sleeper awoke, and stared up at her. He smiled, and
tried to speak, but found he couldn't. So she did.
"Welcome Back....Captain Chekov."
She helped Pavel up, and showed him the refresher unit, and left a
privacy lock on the door so he could rest-or not rest-as the case may
be. After both a sonic and hydro cleansing, he dressed, breathed in the
air, and looked around. Assured that he was not being watched, he pulled
a decidedly non-StarFleet device from behind his left ear, and spoke
into it. Oddly, not a trace of the accent that was as much a Pavel
Chekov trademark as anything else was even remotely evident. But then,
perhaps this was not so odd.
"First things First. Beautiful job, people. Not that I'd allow you to
survive a bad job. The multiversal transporter worked like a Shadow
Fleet against a ship of Pilgrims.
Keep Pavel happy and bound over there, release him only if our beloved
President decides he needs to lecture me on ethics. They'll think I've
lost it. But I haven't. I've gained it all. This little corner of
reality is chock-full of our kind, and I can gain an edge just by
observing them. They all think I'm this second-tier hero, Chekov. That
will be my key to unquestioned access. Orders : Don't call me - I'll
call you. The next wave of human evolution rides on this study and
acquisition. So you do your jobs, I'll do mine. Bester out."
Putting his device away, Alfred Bester turned and saw a model of Space
Station Deep Space Nine. He shook his head.
"That is, without a doubt, the single ugliest space station I have
ever seen. At least Sheridan's people have taste! Yuck!"
In her office, oblivious to the crossover kidnapping, was Admiral
Uhura. She was looking over a short list of twenty-four possible
replacements for Enterprise-E CMO presented to her by Doctor Beverly
Crusher. Two names caught her attention. Husband and wife surgeons
living on the Korean peninsula. Beverly smiled.
"I thought you'd catch them."
Uhura laughed, and pointed at the names. She couldn't believe her
eyes.
"Henry and Lorraine Blake? Who do those two think they're fooling?"
"Nyota?"
"Yes, Bev?"
"I took the liberty of having a transporter circuit set up. It'll take
us straight to Number 4077 Klinger Way in Wiejanbou, Korea. Those two
are the best. Plus, they're old friends of--well--everyone!
I say, give Captain Kirk two CMO's."
Uhura considered Beverly's words, then grinned an evil grin.
"Did he--get you?"
"Ohhh, yes. You, too?"
"Mmm. Of course, he wasn't married then. She'd kill us if we tried
anything now. Hey, Bev?"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Let's do it."
In Korea a tall man, impossibly and deceptively strong and fast, laid
flowers at a grave. It simply read : "Endora-Beloved StepMother,
1273-2373."
"You okay in there? Y'know, Walter and Erin were by. She thinks you
would've liked this spot. Me, I dunno. Shade was never your style, Mom.
I know, you liked 'Mother', but Sam called you 'Mother'. You married my
dad so close to his death. After that Cigarette jerk decided to get at
me through him, you were all I had left. Mom. Mom No. 2. Dad. And now
Mom number 3. Damn you, Endora, witches aren't supposed to......"
He was crying, and so his wife pulled him away, and wiped his face.
She held his head between her hands.
"Hey! You crazy galoot. 400 years, and you're still a sore loser. She
died happy, after a long life. She loved this place, and she loved you.
And you wonder why Samantha never visits. You kill her with you grief,
darling."
Through his tears he laughed.
"The first-the first time we met, she tried to turn me into a chair.
My God. I'll be older than Methos before I accept a single death. I
don't lose to death. I cheat it. Honey, I can't stay here anymore. Can
we--move on?"
She half-frowned.
"Well, we've certainly done it enough times. It just feels
so--repetitive."
"But what else can we do besides move on? I mean, what other options
do we really have?"
Then, from behind the couple, came Uhura's voice.
"Well, you could always try Starting Over. You seemed to do it okay
after beating Khan, back in 2003. Now, the only other man to beat Khan
needs a couple of good CMO's-he deserves the best."
The woman ran over and embraced the pair.
"Nyota! Beverly! Oh, I haven't seen you two since the days of the
1701st!"
The man was quizzical.
"Then its all true? Jim is back?"
Uhura smiled in victory. She had them, whether they knew it or not.
She allowed Beverly to counter their reluctance, and work out the fine
details. She watched as they both signed the PADD's, then pulled Beverly
aside.
"Good job."
"Glad to help, Admiral."
"Like to do more than help?"
"How so?"
"By taking over my job, kiddo."
"Nyota, I told you, I'm leaving StarFleet. Besides, they have you for
Reacquistion."
Uhura put down her head, then half-smiled.
"Not for long. I'm dying, Beverly."
Expertly, Uhura let Crusher take that in while she proclaimed the new
Co-CMO's of the Enterprise-E.
"I, Nyota Uhura of Personnel Reacquisition, do hereby accept the
Doctors once known as Henry and Lorraine Blake to handle the duties of
Chief Medical Officer of The Starship Enterprise. Welcome Aboard,
Hawkeye and Margaret Pierce!"
On Space Station Deep Space Nine, two men were clashing with
battleth's, and taunting one another as they went. They were good at the
taunts--they just weren't very good with the weapons.
"Hey, Ben? If you don't know how to handle that thing, I could call my
friend, The Ambassador, to give you a few pointers. He's quite good."
"Oh, really, Jim? Well, I've seen little Molly O'Brien swing that
weapon in a harder arc than you are! Get off my station, Relic. I'll
fetch your cane, after you lose."
"Lose? Lose to a glorified Frontier Deputy? Ben, you overrate
yourself. Tell you what, I'll get the E's tractor beams to tow this
station up to the wormhole. It hasn't been terribly effective as a
deterrent to The Dominion. Maybe it'll serve as a cork, instead."
For all their bold talk, the fight was less deadly than hilarious. The
battle of Kirk vs. Sisko, inspired by the tensions between them, seemed
to consist of slapped heads, pulled noses, and strikes with the
battleths' blunt ends. In back with the observing Gowron was a sneering
General Martok, sniper of the peace talks.
"Pfah! They fight less like two warriors than two stooges. Chancellor,
how much longer must we observe this stupidity?"
Gowron shrugged.
"The men find it amusing, but I have had enough. To think, they sought
to impress me back to the table with their warrior skills. Martok, go
out there and tell them the show is over, and so are The Khitomer
Accords. We depart thereafter."
Gleefully, Martok made his way through the crowd of chuckling
Klingons. Kirk and Sisko took note of this."
"Captain, lets end this!"
"Captain. Lets."
They banged their weapons together in an odd pattern, and began to
chant in unison.
"Peas Porridge Hot; Peas Porridge Cold; Peas Porridge In The Pot-NINE
DAYS OLD!"
With that last word, they slashed at the approaching Martok, whose
flesh and blood was revealed to be--anything but. Bashir and O'Brien had
been on transporter/sickbay standby in case their Captains were wrong.
They weren't. General Martok-or rather the shapeshifter who had replaced
him-stood stunned.
"That's two, Kirk! The Dominion shall not forget its enemies. But how
did you see through my guise?"
Kirk shook his head.
"Actually, that's three. Maartia was one of your people, wasn't she?
Had the same 'I'm in charge of everything' look about her. Oh, well.
B'bye, 'General'."
As every weapon in the room was emptied on the Changeling, Constable
Odo felt two kinds of pain. The death he felt through the Great Link.
The shame he felt in himself, for Kirk was right. His people's arrogance
might well be their undoing.
Gowron smiled at the smoking remains, and looked with those crazy eyes
of his at two men he had new respect for.
"The Changeling was stupid, Kirk! You always beat us. What chance does
The Dominion have? The invasion of Cardassia is done, and The Khitomer
Accords restored."
All races cheered at that. But Gowron continued.
"On one condition."
Kirk looked to Sisko, who asked the obvious.
"What condition would that be, Chancellor?"
"A real fight, of course! Take the strength and skill you used to
create that parody and show these dead gagh how warriors throw down!"
Joyfully, the battle began in earnest.
O'Brien looked at Bashir.
"Julian?"
"Yes, Miles?"
"Let's remain on standby."
"Good idea."
Later, down in Sickbay, the men who had undone the Dominion's most
intricate plot to date talked of victory-and disaster.
"You did it, Jim. The entire quadrant is lined up against The
Dominion. This won't stop them, but it has to throw a spanner in their
well-oiled works!"
"Thanks, Ben. But I almost destroyed the Alliance, maybe beyond
eventual repair. Things went well in the end, but Martok or no, the way
I approached Gowron was bound to rub him the wrong way. I have to
remember that this isn't my time, and prepare accordingly. Slapstick may
not be enough, next time. Hey, Ben?"
"Yes, Jim?"
"Want to trade keys for a day?"
"Jim, I thought you'd never ask."
For a day, Sisko felt the fabric of a Sovereign-class vessel beneath
his feet. But he also did some head-hunting. Kirk, after feeling the
power of The Defiant, took the loss rather well.
"I'm sorry to lose you, Mr. Worf. Somehow, I felt safer with a Klingon
at Security."
"Of course you did, sir. But a Klingon liaison is badly needed here,
as we have seen. Add to that, Captain Sisko has offered me the Command
Track. Good fortune, Captain Kirk. It was an honor serving with you. My
son will miss your stories."
Geordi La Forge made a similar announcement, leading Kirk to
half-wonder if he had a hull breach.
"Captain, with all due respect, and you are due a lot, my loyalty was
to Captain Picard. Besides, Dr. Brahms has recently divorced, and
working with her at Utopia Planitia, making the breakthroughs at the
starting-gate--well, sir, that's something of a dream come true. I
really hope you'll understand."
"Geordi, sometimes it seems I spent my life fumbling opportunities like
that. Good luck. But--I do need a Chief Engineer."
Geordi smiled a cat-canary special.
"No, sir. You do not need a Chief Engineer. You need--A Miracle
Worker."
Then, from behind a pylon, stepped just such a man as Geordi described.
"So you want me to take over those sorry-looking engines? Eh, it'll be
a twelve-hour job!"
Kirk beamed with utter joy. In all the universe, only one other face
could make him smile any wider.
"Twelve Hours? But you'll have it for me in Six, won't you--Captain
Scott?"
"Its as I told Geordi, Jim. Call me Scotty. All my best friends do."
As two old friends shared tales of miracles, the Enterprise-E finally
got under way. Watching it depart were Benjamin Sisko and Jadzia Dax. He
whispered to his mentor/student.
"Toldja so, Old Man."
But all Jadzia saw was Worf passing by.
"Talk later, Ben. Hunk alert!"
1 Week Later....
"Captain Kirk, Sir?"
"Come in, Counselor. Oh, is this your mother? Welcome, Ambassador
Troi."
Lxwana looked around.
"I liked the old ship a lot better. And this picture? What sort of man
keeps a portrait of himself? Its quite vain, you know."
Deanna remembered something.
"Oh, my! Mother, I'm late for a counseling appointment. I'll just
cancel and then be right back. Captain, I...."
Kirk's face was not that of a happy camper.
"Come back soon, Counselor!"
As Deanna left, her mother continued.
"So, I told Sarek--he was the Vulcan Ambassador, you know--that IDIC
symbols would be viewed by the Daxamites as a representation of Lead,
which is a deadly toxin to them...."
Kirk just rolled his eyes, and waited for Deanna's return.
But Deanna had forgotten that her two patients were new Engineer Scotty
and newly emotional Data. She only finished with them after six hours.
She was now exhausted, and went to her quarters.
Deanna quietly looked in the mirror, splashed her face, and then heard
a door chime. She invited the person in, and was glad to see it was Will
Riker.
"Yes, Will?"
"Hey, Deanna, the locator's off-line. Do you know where Captain Kirk
is? No one can seem to find him, anywhere."
"Oh, I'm sure he's fine. Last I saw him, I left him with........."
Her face drained of color, and she turned towards Will. Either through
intuition or their past relationship, he realized Deanna's unspoken
words. They spoke as one.
"Oh----Shit."
---------------------------------------------
Part 5 soon!
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