#beli total station

[schmergo]

Time for one of my long, rambling informal reviews! This one is for RAGTIME at Signature Theatre and unlike some of the other reviews I've written, this show is still running for 3 more weeks, but tickets are selling EXTREMELY fast, so I'd recommend you snap some up if you haven't already! I will add that Signature's discounted 'partial view' seats are extremely good value and actually not a bad view at all, so don't sleep on those.

TLDR: This show is absolutely amazing and totally does the material of one of my favorite musicals justice in an intimate, innovative staging.

Ragtime is one of those musicals with a name that belies the complexity and darkness of the subject matter (along with Parade and Carousel), and yet there's no other simple name that could tie together such a dense and varied piece of musical theatre. If you're not familiar with it, this musical set in the early 20th century follows three different groups in New York: a white suburban upper class family, a family of new Jewish immigrants, and a star-crossed young family in the emerging Black middle class of Harlem-- plus a half dozen real historical figures of the period. Their paths intersect and intertwine in many unexpected ways, changing all of their lives forever. Expect some very intense themes like racism, sexism, gun violence, and exploitation of the working class, but also moments of surprising levity and loveliness.

It's one of my favorite musicals of all time, but it's also so complex and such an example of the '80's-'90's megamusical' that it's expensive and tricky to stage. So you might not think of the intimate blackbox venue of Shirlington's Signature Theatre as a prime candidate for this piece. But I can report that director Matthew Gardiner and the whole cast and crew knocked this piece out of the park (teehee, yes, this musical has a song about a baseball game). It was a spellbinding night of theatre and there wasn't a dry eye in the house at the end of the show.

I've seen some other shows at Signature-- including Sweeney Todd earlier this season-- where the goal of 'get creative with the intimate space' actually distracted from the material, but the biggest sign that this staging worked was that I barely noticed it at all or thought 'ooh, what a creative idea'. It just... worked. Fitting 33 performers and a 16-piece orchestra onto a small stage, plus massive set pieces like a WORKING REPLICA MODEL T FORD (absolutely show-stopping when it drove out) without feeling cramped or sacrificing audience sightlines shouldn't have been possible, but it all flowed seamlessly. Actors hung around on the sidelines when not part of the action, observing and serving as a backing chorus. This was the first Signature show I've seen with a turntable stage and it helped the show glide from scene to scene without being overused or feeling gimmicky. The use of the aisle space, staircases, and sharing the upper balcony with the fully visible orchestra also served the piece well.

The arched industrial-chic design of the set feels gritty and elegant at the same time, easily standing in for a factory, seaside pier, tenement, ocean liner, or train station, with gorgeous lighting design by Tyler Micoleau adding to the seamless transitions between scenes. Sumptuous costumes by Erik Teague set the tone from the moment the show started. (Mother's dreamy outfits give her an extra shimmer while also giving the impression of extreme restraint; there are outfits for a person whose job is to be decorative rather than effective.) My only true complaint was the sound balance: at times, the orchestra and the backing vocals drowned out soloists. I'm sure it can be difficult to fine-tune this when you have a fairly large band in a small space where natural acoustics battle with amplification.

The theatre is so intimate that you can see the subtlest expressions in the characters' eyes and that makes Signature stand out among other local theatres as a place where musical theatre truly feels led by actors and not just spectacle. In a mega musical like Ragtime, that human element is desperately needed, and it's why this production and the one Ford's Theatre presented several years ago stand out to me as the best I've seen rather than the Kennedy Center production that transferred to Broadway.

Almost every single member of this cast was a standout, even the hardworking ensemble members. This is where I simply have to ramble on about everyone and how beautifully they acted and sounded. My personal favorite performer of the night, in a show more crowded with stars than a planetarium, was Awa Sal Secka as the desperate young mother Sarah. The challenging score sounded like it was written for her, which is saying something because her role was originated by Audra McDonald. Her powerful but sweet voice pours effortlessly from her mouth as though raw feelings have been distilled into pure music. Sal Secka’s simple, earnest characterization of the young woman is utterly heartbreaking. I won't spoil her character's trajectory, but expect to feel every possible emotion in the spectrum. She's incredible.

As her love interest and the show’s anti-hero, Coalhouse Walker Jr., Nkrumah Gatling is perfectly cast. I’ve rarely seen someone in a stage musical act so effectively with just his eyes, flitting from mischievously charming to stone cold in mere seconds. There’s an edge to his rich baritone that might remind you of Brian Stokes Mitchell, who originated the part, but he puts his own spin on the music and gives it a new texture. I’d have loved to have seen Gatling’s take on Sweeney Todd earlier this season. Still, I didn’t get the ‘main character energy’ from this character that I typically have in past productions. Rather than feeling like the show’s central figure, he blended into the rest of the cast—which may say more about how wonderful his co-stars were than any fault of his.

Teal Wicks did exude star quality as Mother, a disaffected housewife who awakes to the world’s injustices and starts to see her life through new eyes. She conveyed every turning point in her character’s life with clarity. Her mellifluous, creamy voice soars on big ballad numbers and her relationships with the show’s many characters feel fully realized. One of the only things I knew about her before seeing this show was that she had played Elphaba on Broadway in Wicked. But here she uses more of a classical-sounding mix voice that fits right into this antique setting.

Matthew Scott plays her stuffy husband, Father, as more sympathetic than I’ve seen before. He seems younger than most actors who’ve played this role (he and Wicks are both in their early 40’s, while I’ve often seen Father cast as significantly older than Mother), and as we see him try to fulfill his role as ‘patriarch,’ we can tell he’s insecure and uncomfortable there.

We had an understudy for the other major role, Tateh, a Jewish immigrant with big dreams and artistic gifts who wants above all else to give his daughter a better life. I was disappointed to see this because Bobby Smith, who usually plays the role, is one of my favorite local actors, but his understudy Edward L. Simon did an absolutely charming job. He imbues Tateh with an impish lightness at times that only make the dark moments more heartbreaking and nimbly navigates musical numbers with a lovely voice. Like many understudies, you could tell he was giving 110% at all times and his energy sparkled. Still, there were a few dramatic moments that I’d have loved to have seen given more power and the orchestra drowned him out more than any other character. I’m guessing that sound levels may have been calibrated to a performer with a bigger voice.

Simon is also by far the youngest-seeming Tateh I’ve seen. This works, adding to the earnest naivety his character shows when he first arrives in America, but I’d be so curious to see how the dynamic works with the usual actor, Bobby Smith, who seems to be about 30 years older than Simon. I’m so tempted to go see the show again with Smith and compare the two performances, but rest assured that if Simon is the understudy at your performance, the role is in deftly capable hands.

I loved Jake Loewenthal as Mother’s Younger Brother, an awkward young man in search for meaning in life. I previously enjoyed him as the Baker in Signature’s Into the Woods but thought, “This guy was born to play the Baker, but I can’t picture him in any other roles. He’s just TOO specific and TOO good as the Baker to play anyone else well.” I was wrong. He’s perfect here, filled with a tightly coiled intensity that is, in his character’s own words, ‘like a firework, unexploded.’ There’s a quirky piercing nasality to his voice, but it shines out in Younger Brother’s effusive self-discovery. Among other family members, Declan Fennell is adorable and NOT annoying as the family’s weird (and slightly psychic) little son Edgar and Lawrence Redmond is a hoot as the drily snarky Grandfather.

Among the smaller roles, standouts include Dani Stoller’s impassioned firebrand Emma Goldman, Jordyn Taylor as show-stopping soloist “Sarah’s Friend,” and Tobias Young’s Booker T. Washington, more memorable than I’ve ever seen this character portrayed. But more than any of these, Maria Rizzo stole her scenes as vaudeville sensation Evelyn Nesbit. She seemed to be having an absolute blast up there and gave the character both more depth (hints of trauma!) and risqué sultriness than I’ve seen before. If sometimes she verged into showboating, I couldn’t possibly complain. She was just too much fun to watch.

This is a score full of HARD-HITTING ballads and intense big production numbers, with almost every number including dramatic swells of the orchestra and singing to the rafters. Every time you think you've seen the showstopping number of the night, another one comes along to blow you away. Some of the standout songs in this piece include Sal Secka's haunting lament "Your Daddy's Son," Wicks' journey of self-discovery in "Back to Before," Gatling's anthem "Make Them Hear You" and the adrenaline-pumping duet "Wheels of a Dream," but you will find that some of the smaller numbers between them will also send chills down your spine and bring tears to your eyes. One of my personal favorites was the sweet duet "Our Children," which sees the spark of a potential relationship forming as two parents watch their children play together.

What does this show say about America? Basically everything up to and including the kitchen sink. Is it a land where people can triumph against adversity and succeed? Yes! Is it is a place where dreams are broken and crushed by reality? That, too! Is it a place where understanding can win out over hate and people find they’re more alike than different? Yes! But is it a place where hatred and bigotry can tear lives and families apart in the blink of an eye? Yes! Is there a hope of a brighter future for the country? Yes! But do we see the struggles of present day reflected in these characters from over a century ago? A resounding yes. Every audience member will come away with different moments resonating in their minds, but the rich tapestry of humanity in all its strengths and flaws showcased in this production is a marvel to behold.

I’m attaching a few clips from the show in the comments so you can see some of what it was like for yourself! Please consider seeing this show if you can. It’s the most powerfully affecting piece of musical theatre I’ve seen in the DC area since before the pandemic and will no doubt stick with you long after the cast takes its last bow.

[egretech]

EGRETECH Plume 300 Portable Power Station 300W/260Wh

300W/260Wh Capacity Power

Pure sine wave AC output

A4 body, Easy to carry

Support 100W solar panel Input

Plume 300W Specifications

Product model

Plume 300W

Battery type

Lithium battery

Battery capacity

 260Wh;14.4V;18Ah

Net weight

2.15kg/4.74Lbs

Dimensions

243*165.5*50mm/9.56*10.4*1.96In

AC Output

120V/60Hz,300W Max，pure sine wave

Total Discharge

501W（AC+DC）

Recommended temperature

0℃-50℃

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[javageotron]

Jual Beli Service Kalibrasi Total Station Topcon GM 103

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[tarmizihartanah]

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[erinaaustralia]

’serene' - Luxury apartments in tranquil setting in the heart of Gosford

[paolojcruz]

Cool Britannia Is Out Of Bounds

REVIEWS : COMICS

The Vinyl Underground is a serviceable rehash of early 90s Vertigo themes in gentrified contemporary London.

Originally posted on the Multiply page of Sputnik Fantastik, February 2010

I feel like I’ve read Si Spencer and Simon Gane’s The Vinyl Underground before, at least during its five-part opening arc, collected in Vol 1, Watching The Detectives. And you know what? It doesn’t matter – I thoroughly enjoyed it, just the same!

The basic premise is like The Invisibles crossed with Torchwood. A motley group of subcultural misfits come together in a disused Tube (subway) station, beneath London’s magical streets, to investigate the paranormal crimes that ordinary cops don’t have the resources or knowledge to solve.

Let me get one thing out of the way, early on: the characters are total ciphers, patched together from every conceivable aspect of British urban mythology. There’s the bad-ass footballer’s son with connections to the mob, whose Pete Doherty-like public image belies a sensitive side (and residual mommy issues). There’s a feisty, tough urban shaman of African descent, who’s in tune with London’s mythical psychogeography. There’s a reckless bisexual pervert who can talk with the dead. You probably get the idea, by now...

This is formula late 90s Vertigo stuff, right down to the plots about undead Russian hookers, aristocratic cults, African black magic, and Guy Ritchie-esque gangsters. As somebody who picked up on The Invisibles in college, I’m just happy to get a fix of more of the same kind of esoteric urban adventures.

Artist Simon Gane has been accused of being a Philip Bond imitator, a charge that’s not entirely inaccurate. (Though I personally think Gane’s style recalls Warren Pleece circa Deadenders a bit more.) It’s the same kind of approach that Bond and Pleece employ so well: using very bright, cartoonish designs to realize often macabre storylines. It’s not terribly distinctive, but I don’t think it’s fair to say Gane is an outright copycat.

This isn’t ground-breaking stuff, by any means. However, I do think it’s a subject that’s been in limited supply, in recent years, at least in American comics. I’d definitely recommend it for today’s high school-age readers who may be new to the genre. Likewise, it will probably be a worthwhile read, for those who liked the quirky superheroics of X-Statix, Global Frequency, or Morrison-era Doom Patrol.

[writer59january13]

Groundswell Of Emotional Blessedness

Ebullience exudes from mine every pore courtesy festive mood in the air,

thus acknowledgment to the following:

thank you All Poetry, COSMOFUNNEL, Facebook, Hello Poetry, My Poetic Side PoetryNook, Poetry Soup, PoetryVibe Tumblr, et cetera

anonymous global friends, Romans countrymen/women

whether spring chickens

or old roosters or hens.

A network of cherished kinships allied forged, and linkedin analogous to union of groom and bride

(case in point yours truly

linkedin with the missus) thru electronic bonds engender intrigue, nonetheless unconditionally accept, no matter I chide self, and reference mine existence as if...this mortal already died, now more appreciative than ever, cuz younger days witnessed

peers that did elide

me accompanied with relentless teasing, snubbing, roasting akin tubby kindled over a fireside,

thus...solitude shadowed me as sole silhouette guide peopled with books to escape and hide

from so called "real" webbed world, yet inside this former grievous lad through alienation,

emasculation, and isolation no joyride valuing myself less than a pawn on chessboard of life envying extrovert as kingside station depriving, insulating, and ostracizing yours truly belied

to Matthew Scott Harris marginally functioning, and denied him camaraderie, dating, enjoying female friendships due to lack of confidence and pride

and at the cusp of

pubescence...a slow descending ride (while donning a foghat) into the hungry (anorexic) maws of suicide, which ideations hammer psyche,

analogous to ego getting piston now aghast how I tried (without success)

to disappear sundering

mine complex edifice into the wide

abyss of nothingness, hence to treasure

those electronic connections, perhaps...totally no more'n four score (and seven years ago) all told of unbeknown village people comprising worthy chums, sans human league roar

ring (okay pardon the hyperbole), but letting this foo fighter explore

a greater range of interpersonal (no matter virtual), but each unnamed cyber buddy worth more than simple rhyming galore words express, some or all those who sprung from Earth, wind and fire, viz cosmic toreador this poet would their

physical presence adore, who realizes genuine experienced love second best option

loneliness I abhor,

nevertheless wistfulness

to communicate

thru the Internet...

finds me writing bonjour,

to random readers

familiar with literary nuances

of yours truly

within whose integrated circuits

central processing unit core

reasonable rhymes coalesce

as trademark décor

lapsing words to explore

his existential crisis

enduring seventeen years

subtracted from fourscore

orbitz athwart planet earth in the balance as informed

Former Vice President of the United States Albert Gore

his 1992 tree tease at that time hardcore

revelations now Greta Thunberg makes absolutely eloquently sure

Homo sapiens do not ignore.

[saturniandevil]

June 2022 Important Dates

AKA my notes from The Astrology Podcast’s June Forecast.

May Recap: We’re going into this month off a total lunar eclipse mid-May, of which Chris took some photos:

Speaking of eclipses, we’ll have another full solar eclipse over the continental USA on April 8th, 2024. Once again, here is the eclipse calendar for 2022:

As you can see, this year is all on the Taurus-Scorpio axis, and people with fixed sign emphasis especially have been seeing major shakeups and beginnings. With Uranus in Taurus (squaring Saturn), the nodes are now lighting up the disruptions the outer planet has brought us. Significations like the volatile market, dirsuptions in basic commodities, and labor struggles are all being amplified.

During the past month Mercury retrograde in Gemini andTaurus also showed itself in current events. Some examples in the US include appointing a head of disinformation investigations but then backtracking, the Supreme Court ruling draft leak, and George Bush’s Freudian slip about unlawfully invading...who, again? Straddling two signs, Mercury has been contacting both Jupiter and Saturn--our big, visible, society-level planets.

Speaking of the Supreme Court, it seems the leaked document was written around late February, when Venus was just finishing up her retrograde cycle conjoining Pluto and Mars. Issues of control over women, sexuality and privacy in general have all been raised. As I pointed out last forecast, we heard about this document right as Venus entered Aries, her sign of detriment. Jupiter’s presence in Aries also belies divisiveness over ideology, law, religion and morality, though bravery is here as well. Chris brings up Jupiter and the 9th house being associated with both religion & politics--our beliefs can be less logical than we think they are.

May 28th - Venus entered Taurus For most of the month, Venus will be in her home of Taurus, while Mars & Mercury are also at home in Aries & Gemini. She can provide some much-needed grounding in contrast to the other chaotic energies this month. However, she’ll run into Uranus & Rahu (the North Node) and square Saturn towards the end of the sign. Up until that point we might see some stabilizing in areas like stocks or basic needs (though not necessarily improvements). We’re also moving out of eclipse season, with the New Moon two days ago indicating regular, little beginnings & endings instead of the life-changing instability of eclipses. Venus and Saturn will square each other in domicile, which can be grounding. However, Saturn is a little stronger here, so expect to negotiate boundaries and structures.

June 3rd - Mercury stations Direct In late degrees of Taurus, he’s squaring Saturn, who stations retrograde the next day. This is a similar configuration to November 2020, when Mercury stationed direct square Saturn, bringing slowness and delays such as the recounts in the US election. We can likely expect postponements to be announced around this time. With the North Node & Algol close to Mercury, we’ve got a lot of imagery about losing one’s head--it’ll take awhile to tease out the truth, and Austin predicts that some terrible events may come to life. The story of Medusa (whose head is symbolized by Algol) is especially relevant right now regarding women and politics.

June 4th - Saturn stations Retrograde Saturn does so in late Aquarius, squaring newly direct Mercury. Saturn generally says no to things, and combined with Mercury can bring about hyper-criticism that may freeze us in place. Saturn is in domicile and terms, with Mercury in his decan, so Saturn is going to win out in any struggles here. Meanwhile, Jupiter and Mars have just conjoined, propelling us to motion in other areas of life. This is also the furthest Saturn has made it into Aquarius and the furthest he’ll get for awhile, really affecting fixed placements.

June 11th - Mercury reenters Gemini Once out of range of Saturn’s influence, Mercury is fast, strong in domicile, and receives a further boost of jet fuel from Jupiter and then Mars. What has been slow will suddenly speed up; think hot, fast, and bold for the second half of June.

June 12th - Full Moon At 23° of Sagittarius

We’re experiencing this lunation just as things are starting to pick up speed again: Mercury just entered Gemini the day before, Venus has been forced into contact with Uranus and Rahu, Saturn has stationed, and dignified Mars is just within trine distance (depending on the orb you use). The lights are square Neptune, so although there is light on the Sagittarius area of our charts, it may be a clouded or illusory vision. In contrast, Saturn is trine the Sun and sextile the Moon, which may have a grounding effect.

This is also the first lunation in Sagittarius since 2019 that isn’t an eclipse, so mutable risings and any planets here can breathe a sigh of relief as we see Sagittarius lit up in a healthier way. Sagittarius likes to quest, and especially with Neptune contacting the lights and Jupiter in Aries bringing general bravery, it can be a good time for seekers and inspiration.

Venus will get pushed into motion a few days earlier by Uranus, which Chris thinks may introduce us to something new and exciting, breaking our routine. Austin advises caution in Venusian efforts around this time, though, since Uranus is so unpredictable and Saturn is waiting nearby to refuse our requests.

June 21st - Sun enters Cancer As we begin summer, the activity in fire & air signs may overshadow Cancer’s nurturing nature. Mercury is already strong Gemini, but he’s also treading new ground once he passes about 10°. Meanwhile, Mars & Jupiter in Aries are all energy.

June 22nd - Venus enters Gemini She joins Mercury, further quickening the pace and making things more social & chatty. Sometimes it’s refreshing to be superficial or just have some light banter instead of probing the depths of one’s psyche. Venus in Gemini seeks variety and enjoys sampling many different things.

June 26th - Auspicious electional chart for the month

Adjust time to about 10:55AM local time, or Virgo rising. The chart’s ruler Mercury is dignified in Gemini in the 10th whole sign house, and Venus is there as well. The Moon is also in Gemini, separating from a conjunction with Venus, a sextile with Jupiter in Aries, and applying to a conjunction with her ruler Mercury. This chart emphasizes 10th house & Mercury/Virgo/Gemini themes such as communication, career, and reputation. Venus is also applying to a sextile with Jupiter in the 8th, and though Jupiter is there, Mars’s copresence in a day chart means we should curb our ambitions in the realm of taxes and debt. Overall this is one of the best Mercury charts for the year that Chris & Leisa have found. It’s a good time for writing & talking about things, sharing on social media if content creation is part of your career, and generally putting out important communications like requests, proposals, and pitches.

June 28th - New Moon in Cancer, Neptune stations Retrograde Here is the chart for the New Moon:

The Moon is at 7° of Cancer. Venus and Mercury are in Gemini, and the moon is closely square Jupiter, which in turn is sextiling Venus. Guest host Catherine Urban predicts a change in the baby formula shortage situation considering the nurturing and motherhood significations of the Moon and Cancer. The Moon is unafflicted, and with a trine from Neptune in Pisces, so the emphasis is on water energies and restfulness. What do we need to feel safe and secure, and to thrive? Get ready to accomplish more Jupiter in Aries things by taking a day or two off to replenish.

As for Neptune, this is the furthest he’s gone into Pisces this time around, but it’s not going to contact other planets too much this month. It may be worth noting that Jupiter and Neptune play big parts in both lunations this month. Mercury does have a square with Neptune going into July, so be careful of illusions in communications as the month changes.

June 30th - Mars square Pluto (not pictured) In classic terms this is a struggle between the seen (Mars) and unseen (Pluto) powers. Power dynamics will become exaggerated and untenable. Catherine points out that, while the world may seem to erupt, there is also a bit of powerhouse energy or clearing of the path that we might be able to tap into as individuals. Chris describes it as Mars moving forward while Pluto calls the shots from the shadows--we might be moving foward while unaware of larger forces manipulating us. Mars being so late in Aries means he’ll enter Taurus soon, joining Uranus and Rahu; and furthermore he’ll square Saturn on July 4th, reactivating that whole T-square with Uranus. Rest up now, because July's starting off with a bang!

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“...the most common precisely defined charges against Welland county residents were related to alcohol: being drunk, drunk and disorderly behaviour, selling liquor without a licence, violation of the Ontario Temperance Act (1916–27), and, from 1927, violation of the Ontario Liquor Control Act . The analysis of alcohol-related crimes thus affords an especially useful way to consider both the development of Anglo-Canadian views of immigrant offenders and the ways in which the resulting stereotypes hid the complex role that the production and consumption of alcohol played in immigrant communities. Anglo-Canadian temperance advocates and local newspapers blamed foreign immigrants for making Niagara communities among the most drunken places in the country. They claimed that “the illicit sale of liquor” throughout the Niagara region was “almost entirely in the hands of foreigners.” Immigrant women involved in bootlegging attracted special censure in the press. At a time when many scholars believed that the lack of differentiation between the sexes was a mark of primitive or savage societies, some residents of Niagara saw the participation of women in such illegal activities as evidence of their lack of femininity and, hence, of primitivism and racial inferiority. The Thorold Post, for example, reported with disgust that a female immigrant boarding-house keeper hid a liquor bottle under the baby in her arms when the police raided her home. During another raid in Thorold’s foreign quarter, the newspaper noted disapprovingly, police discovered liquor bottles hidden in a cradle under a sleeping baby.

Welland County jail records belie the accuracy of such newspaper accounts. In the decades under consideration here, Niagara residents of British descent outnumbered foreigners among those charged with alcohol-related crimes. Foreigners were over-represented among those arrested for alcohol-related offences in 1920, while Niagara residents of British descent were under-represented, a situation that reflects the suspicion of foreigners that prevailed as a result of the First World War and the labour unrest that followed.

By 1930, however, despite an increase in the proportion of foreign-born residents in Welland County, their presence among those arrested for alcohol-related crimes declined significantly.  They made up only sixteen percent of those in this category. The proportion of British residents arrested for drunkenness and related crimes grew appreciably to seventy-two percent of the total. According to the chiefs of police of Crowland and Port Colborne, an important reason for this change was that the decriminalization of brewing and winemaking for home consumption made it difficult to catch those who sold home-made wine and beer without a licence, a category that included most foreign bootleggers.

There were a number of reasons in addition to racism that drew the attention of Niagara’s dominant groups to immigrant drinking and bootlegging specifically. Because their crowded quarters were not ideal for relaxation, many immigrant men spent their leisure time in public places. They loitered on public sidewalks, finding refuge in railway stations in the wintertime. In good weather on holidays and weekends, they moved from urban sidewalks to the “bush.” They were visible in these locations and, hence, vulnerable to arrest. In June 1919, for example, “a lot of foreigners” were “drinking wine and carousing” in the bush near Stamford. While most escaped when the opp came upon them, the four who were caught faced the choice of paying steep fines or serving three months in jail.

Ontario’s early twentieth-century liquor laws also helped to criminalize immigrant alcohol consumption. Both Ontario’s Temperance Act (1916–27) and the Liquor Control Act (from 1927) permitted the possession of liquor in a private residence. Boarding houses with more than three boarders, of the type that housed a great many foreign immigrants, however, did not qualify as private residences. Both boarding-house keepers and residents were thus subject to prosecution for behaviour deemed perfectly legal for people who could afford to live in single-family homes. 

While foreign immigrants were not alone in running and living in boarding houses, the attention of the press and public officials, including liquor inspectors, focused largely on immigrant boarding houses, which least resembled Anglo-Canadian households. As noted above, many foreign migrants, married or single, came to Canada on their own. The boarding houses they inhabited were frequently all-male establishments. In the eyes of English Canadian observers, therefore, they lacked the stabilizing, moral influence of women. Because of the desire of the sojourners to live as inexpensively as possible, even boarding houses run by immigrant couples were often very crowded. One reason that women joined their partners sojourning in Canada was that they hoped to increase household income by keeping boarders. To do so, however, they placed as many beds as possible in every room, at times renting the same bed to two men who worked and slept in shifts. Many boarding-house keepers – men and women – sold alcohol, just as they provided food for their boarders. Because their economic prospects were limited, boarding-house keepers, as well as other petty entrepreneurs in Niagara’s immigrant communities, such as grocers and operators of ice-cream parlours, billiard halls and even gas stations, also engaged in more than one type of enterprise, including bootlegging. Paying hefty fines on occasion was less expensive than purchasing a licence to sell liquor. Despite the involvement in bootlegging of some career criminals, such as John Trott, Police murderers, and the sensational stories about foreigners in Canada collaborating with American gangsters who drove fast cars and carried automatic weapons, immigrant bootlegging in Niagara was primarily on a modest scale. Even so, it was lucrative. In 1916, for example, when a large scale police raid netted twenty-three blind-pig operators, most were fined, but none had any difficulty paying the $300 fine on the spot.

The possibility of profiting from the sale of alcohol was especially appealing in a context where other economic prospects of immigrants were limited. Not surprisingly, therefore, the recollections of immigrants who came to Niagara before 1930 and their children offer a very different perspective on immigrant bootlegging than the views of English Canadian newspapers, temperance advocates, and officials. Foreigners recognized that offering such services was a way to increase their income with very little expense. Indeed, according to a Hungarian sojourner, they regularly had to sell liquor if they wanted to succeed during the interwar years. The trade-off was that they frequently had to put up with their boarders’ drunken behaviour.

The innocuous name given by foreigners to establishments engaged in bootlegging – social clubs – indicated the wider acceptance of this practice among immigrants than within the host society and may also have been intended to hide what was happening in these businesses. Some bootleggers bought by the gallon and sold by the glass. Others made the wine and beer that they sold. Their chief appeal for customers was that their prices were lower and their hours of operation were longer than those of hotels. In the 1920s, hotels were closed during the dinner hours, just when the day shift was ending for workers. Some social clubs enhanced their appeal by offering home-cooked food as well.

Peter Santone, a barber and Crowland township councillor, endowed immigrant bootlegging with epic proportions. No doubt exaggerating for effect, he recalled with amusement that Charlie Jary, a Hungarian immigrant, “sold more wine than the liquor store.” According to Santone, most of the Italian businesses in Welland “did a little bootlegging on the side.’ The practices of small business owners from other ethnic groups were similar, and bootleggers and their clients were not necessarily of the same ethnic origin. In the 1930s, when Adam Farioli was working at the Electro-Metallurgical plant in Welland, he and his friends from work patronized Markoff’s gas station on King Street. Markoff was also a bootlegger. “Going to Markoff’s,” he remembers fondly, “was a ritual.” After they cashed their paycheques on Thursday nights, Farioli and his friends stayed around for drinks. Rather than discrediting them, the engagement of ethnic businessmen in such lucrative illegal activities enhanced their standing in their communities. Speaking of Tony Nero, for instance, Santone recalls: “He treated the Italians good.” He carried many people through the lean times when he gave them credit. “He sold groceries in the front, used to bootleg in the back.”

The recollections of an immigrant family from Bologna provide us with the clearest illustration of bootlegging driven by a sense of mutualism among working-class immigrants. When the family of seven arrived in Welland, the father had difficulty finding work, so the family rented a house that was not much more than a shack. A mere two months later, an explosion destroyed the house and killed the father. Families from the same region of Italy came to the aid of the widow and her children. For a while, five of the children were taken in by different households of paesani, while they helped the mother find an apartment that could accommodate the entire family. The mother then took in two boarders, and her paesani helped her to set up a social club. She made wine, and, as her daughter recalled in the 1980s, “a few friends would come and drink it. That way she made a little money because she was desperate to.” This is how the family survived until the children were old enough to go out to work.

That is not to say that all foreign immigrants approved of illicit activities by their counterparts. Mary Samson (née Botari) recalled that her parents believed that the area around Tony Nero’s store was unsafe because Nero and other businesses there engaged in bootlegging. They advised their daughters not to walk through that part of Welland. Other illicit business dealings also appear less as the actions of immoral or dangerous foreigners than as small-scale business undertakings that fulfilled certain needs. Sex work involving immigrants also appears to have taken place in small, multi-purpose immigrant enterprises such as boarding houses and rooms attached to restaurants. For example, after her husband was killed in action during the First World War, Rosy Cristofono took a position as a waitress in her cousin Antonio Mosoco’s Welland boarding house and restaurant. In addition to her wages, Mosoco provided her with room and board, and Cristofono used the room to carry on “an immoral business with the customers.” She handed half of her earnings to her cousin.” - Carmela Patrias, “Foreigners, Felonies, and Misdemeanours on Niagara’s Industrial Frontier, 1900–30.” The Canadian Historical Review 101, 3, September 2020. pp. 435-439.

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[luminess-brightcoil]

No Matter What You Do

All instruments recording the ongoing spread of the scourge pandemic indicated a rapid increase in risk of safety, up to and including the roaming dead in the very streets of Stormwind. What was once recommended to simply be a matter of staying off the streets and increasing security measures has changed with similar rapidity, up to and including the recommendation of immediate evacuation for all citizens of Stormwind, leaving only the Stormwind Patrol, the Argent Crusade, the Ebon Blade, and any of Azeroth’s Champions that were so moved to contribute to containing the absolute carnage at hand.

As the topic was broached for what this means for the great underground metropolis of Mechagon, Luminess Brightcoil balked at the data, though she Observed it in totality and took it upon her processing parameters to integrate this new data into her daily routine. To say the outlook was grim would be an understatement. To say that she was growing exhausted of grim outlooks would be even more of one.

Even a Beacon is prone to bouts of personal dismay. It was quickly becoming one Titans-damned thing after another for her. Starting and ending a revolution. Joining and ending the Fourth of Four Wars. Defeating the encroachment of the Old Gods. The Return of the San’layn. And now, this: Death itself, and whatever forces direct it upon Azeroth. And all of this within a single year. 

On days like these, a Beacon would wonder why she ever left the island in the first place... 

Luminess sat amongst her peers in the Think Tank that was assembled for the purpose of analyzing and developing an expedient solution to the matter of the scourge invasion with the Gnomish population at its focus. The scent of recirculated air through coppered ducts intertwined with the effervescent presence of warm, freshly applied toner as gnome and mechagnome alike scanned through document after document. Every finer point addressed, every corollary counter-examined, every contingency remodeled and re-assessed… And yet it was the general consensus of those present that not much headway was made just yet. 

Except for Walton Cogfrenzy, Chief Architect of Mechagon, who maintained that he had a very simple and direct plan of response, that in any other context would have been seen as antithetical to their current societal trajectory, and now perhaps its only chance for survival: 

Complete Lockdown.

“We will establish a temporary teleportation network between here and Tinker Town,” Walton explained. “Citizens of Gnomeregan can be funneled into our now half-vacant halls along with all our Gnomadic kin. Following that, remaining available space and resource accommodation can be afforded to our Dwarven cousins, though it is projected very few would be willing to retreat from their own beloved city. Still, we must press them to do so, and once we have evacuated all that we may hold and accommodate safely, access to the network will be severed from all entry points.”

The King shifted his weight from one side of his seat to the other. By far, the once High Tinker but now King Gelbin Mekkatorque would be the least Kingly King you could meet. He was conscientious to others. He yielded space and listened more than spoke. He sought counsel for all decisions, tall or small. Betraying the good will of his people was unthinkable, just as he would strive against working against their humbler wishes. And more often than not, you had to remind him of his now-regal station. A station, it is said, he has been working to reform away from the obsolete protocol known as the 'Divine Right of Kings.' Perhaps such topics could be addressed more directly when things were Quieter. But in either regard… Luminess, for one, was grateful to have someone so unlike the Mad Tyrant that, for now, she was willing to give the whole Monarchy thing one more chance.

“It will be difficult to convince the Gnomereganians to take refuge,” sighed King Mekkatorque wearily. “Many believe they’re perfectly safe within the walls of Ironforge, despite the surrounding snowy climate being far more tactically advantageous for the Scourge than even the tranquil forests of Elwynn or the unimpeding flats of Durotar. And even so, their pride is at stake to some extent. They won’t take easily to being confined to another underground kingdom, even if it is ostensibly theirs. Over time, we of Gnomeregan have become more and more like our Gnomadic cousins than not as the impossibly high toll taken by Thermaplugg continues to plague our once-hallowed halls, figuratively AND literally.”

“And so I would hope they would be difficult to convince, your highness.” Intamin Diveroll, renowned prosthetist and out-speaker, swiveled his chair towards Mekkatorque just slightly as he respectfully interjected, but kept his gaze upon the Chief Architect. “Your plan puts our now-combined kingdom at risk of recreating the exact same scenarios for destruction that had befallen either of them. Suppose we are all holed up here and one of our vaunted city’s life preservation systems should fail, or worse: sabotaged by ne’er-do-wells known or unknown. Suppose the invasion never ends, and to quell a dissatisfied populace, a new Mad Tyrant emerges to place them back into order under the guise of Public Safety. And should neither fate befall us, and we merely survive through the ordeal to a ruined Azeroth or… continued indefinite life underground, even in prosperity… that would make cowards of us all.”

“It is not… Cowardice to prioritize survival! It is the only acceptable option,” pressed Cogfrenzy with just as much proud conviction on display as he hid his secret guilts. His servos whined under his weight as he leaned forward against the conference table with the coiled-bulb lamps glowing above his exhausted, perspiring brow. “And the only safe one. Our Kingdom is the most secure against external threats of any on Azeroth. Our doors open and close only to us, and our walls are impenetrable against all alien threats. Anyone who enters without the aid of our own kind is instantaneously vaporized by our unparalleled city defenses. For five hundred years, a full-length default gnomish lifetime... our security was so assured that the rest of the planet knew not even of our existence. We were effectively anonymous. Fel, we even have the capability of sealing off all access to the Azeroth’s vast network of Arcane Leylines, guaranteeing that not a single soul enters or leaves through the mightiest of mage portals!”

As the King ran his fingers through his whiskers, Luminess’s face belied only a hint of bemusement as her gaze slide sideways to one of her closest companions to examine his face for a reaction to that last sentence. Indy would offer none. But she knew. They both knew.

“My King,” Indy gently prodded, turning his trademark winning smile towards his liege. “The Rustbolt Revolution demonstrated to us that the answer to our prosperity lies not here exclusively in Mechagon. It lies in Greater Azeroth. And to that end it is not only such that we should not run away, but we should fight to defend it alongside everyone else.”

King Mekkatorque smiled at Indy gently, reassuringly. “On that, we are in total agreement, Good Doctor. We are no longer two kingdoms of Gnomes. We are one, and beyond that, we belong to the mighty Alliance as well. And defending our world from imminent threats within and without is the Alliance’s primary function, after all.”

The Beacon stirred in her seat, squeaking it at the hinge as she leaned forward onto her elbows, fingers tented before her face. She refused to comment on the political trajectory of the Gnomish populace, for now. Instead, she turned to another of her companions that she insisted be included on this Think Tank for the sake of the wealth of information he contains as a single entity. “Cornelius,” she addressed him from across the table.

“Hello, User!” came the chipper response from Mister Tribulatus, self-aware as ever, and the Beacon remained quite proud of him for achieving that.

“Known methods of Scourge Incursion, please, listed."

“Query accepted! Running diagnostics…”

The room fell silent, save the soft stirring of seats in anticipation, and the soft ting-ting of a spoon inside a cup of coffee, one of a great many that were filled and spilled on this auspicious day. 

“Results compiled. Scourge are known to make entry into populated areas through the following means, alphabetically: Aerial Delivery. Burrowing. Contagion. Localized Necromancy.”

All eyes in the room, save Cornelius’, slowly drifted over to a mechagnome seated at the end of the table, brow bedecked with ostentatious horn modifications. His focus was trained on an asymmetrical paper football formed out of one of the documents on the table, and his attempts to ‘kick’ it through a ‘goal post’ made from used coffee creamer cups and stirring rods. His clamps fail to provide the manual dexterity needed to perform the maneuver, but after eighty-seven attempts so far, the man was not about to back down now. However, he felt the familiar sensation of an entire room of his alleged peers judging him all at once, and so he looked up.

“... What?! Titans Testes, I’m not a Necromancer, I resurrect myself with CLONES,” protested one Doctor Theodorp Wimblewomble the Sixth. Or was it Seventh, now? The people of Mechagon had only his word for the answer. 

“The Fel practices are adjacent to Necromancy are they not?” the Beacon inquired, with earnest sincerity. “Perhaps in this way you can offer us insight?” 

“You’re asking an electrician to fix your toilet,” chided Theodorp as he unceremoniously failed his eighty-eighth attempt to score a field goal. “Fortunately for you I am learned of a multitude of means of delivering Doom.” 

The King rubbed his eyes with a gloved hand before flipping open the box of donuts on the table, deciding which of the remaining flavors might quell the madness he felt in this moment for including a pseudo war criminal on this Think Tank. Take him away, Blueberry Glazed.

“For certain, this Kingdom is advantageously impervious to outside threats, as the Chief Architect asserts. Titans know I’ve tried and nearly succeeded countless times to perviate it myself. Yes, that is a real word.”

All of the eyes that were cast upon Theodorp quickly volleyed to Cornelius. Instinctively, he clicked and whirred in place before speaking: “Perviate. Transitive Verb. To enter, bore into, or run through. Would you like me to search for more information regarding Perviation?"

Professor Theodorp Wimblewomble the Sixth silently threw his clamps into the air, victorious over all who dared to doubt him, once again. As the gnomes around him (save Cornelius) collectively stifled their groans, he permitted them immediate reprieve of a well-deserved gloating, and continued...

“As my criminal record shows, I’ve only had so much luck attempting to bring various forms of Fel into our kingdom. The Titan-Energy Interference from the Engine that we’ve made our home into is a natural repellent to both the Fel and Necromantic efforts from exterior sources. Our Previous King spared no effort or expense at seeing such impure practices all but eradicated or imprisoned.”

He takes a moment to feel very smug about being the only practitioner of either who isn’t currently technically imprisoned before continuing: “Ultimately, our greatest concern, second only to simply allowing the plague to enter our halls through contamination of persons or produce… would be someone like me infiltrating Mechagon and finding a way to succeed. For the Fel, we have no particular need of concern as ever. But in the case of Necromancy, they would not need to open a portal, they would simply need to locally source some corpses right here. Which could be remarkably easy, considering the whole proposition to keep the walls closed and sealed that no one could possibly enter or leave.”

The Think Tank of gnomes, already silent, somehow fell even more deathly quiet. No one liked that.

“Then it would not be enough to simply close the doors and shutter our windows,” the Beacon spoke wielding a voice laden equally with certainty as hesitance. “It would require a near-constant monitor of every individual’s vital signs, and restricted movement for all throughout the densely populated areas. We would effectively not be merely bunkering in for our physical safety, but we would need to place the population under a functional quarantine for the first few weeks simply to ensure there is no undetected viral agent is able to spread. We would require anyone taking refuge here to comply with these regulations, or…”

She gulped as she choked on her words in this moment. Indy peered at her searchingly. Cornelius smiled at the wall. Theodorp was on the edge of his seat, waiting for her to finish her thought. King Gelbin Mekkatorque simply listened, chin upon thumb, cheek against finger, elbow against armrest. 

“... Or be placed under secure, supervised quarantine. Just for the duration. And ethically, of course. This is for… public safety.”

Theodorp clinked his clamps excitedly under the table with a wide, toothy grin while Luminess attempted to meet Intamin’s gaze. But when her optics searched for his, he had already turned away. She sank in her seat just slightly as her lips tightened and her face drooped just a bit. 

The King nodded slowly as his own eyes searched in the far distance, into the invisible thinkspace we all have for flaw in this reasoning. And whether he found zero flaws to be had, or he simply accepted the known flaws as they were, it was not made clear in his exhausted sigh that set his moustache billowing in the wind blown forth from his lips.

“You speak the Truth as ever, Beacon,” decreed the King. “If we are going to do this then it would be folly to employ any half-measures. BUT... we will make sure that all who are so quarantined for the duration will have the inconvenience of their sacrificed time compensated, their needs of survival and personal comfort fully provided for. They are our people, our family and friends, and we will make their stay at home a veritable paradise until the situation is under control. To do any less would call into question the foundations and integrity of our very society’s principles in a manner we simply do not have time for right now, or possibly ever. Have we reached consensus?”

The assembled members of the Think Tank all offered their agreement in unison in low grunts of affirmation and/or raised hands. Even Intamin, after a moment. Luminess quietly sighed in relief, allowing her jaw to finally un-clench itself.

“Then the matter is settled upon. Beacon Brightcoil, I am counting on you to ensure that the quarantine efforts are carried out in a safe and ethical manner the people will find agreeable. Spare no expense. The rest of us will reconvene after a one hour biological break to discuss our efforts abroad aiding the campaign in Icecrown and the Eastern Kingdoms. Titans Observe that it will be Gnomish Ingenuity and Determination that brings a swift resolution to this crisis!”

The King’s counsel and subjects before him all responded with an assured nod and an equally assured utterance of “Titans Observe,” even Doctor Theodorp Wimblewomble the Sixth or Seventh.

With that, King Gelbin Mekkatorque bowed his head with a soft chuckle and made haste towards the door, eager to get out of being in a meeting for however long he can manage it today. Luminess, making similar speed, exited behind him as the others shuffled their belongings in order. 

Intamin gave chase.

“Beacon? Oh, Beacon?” cried the man playfully behind his companion, who laughed as she slowed her pace to allow them to walk on parallel paths. “I was simply wondering which personal liberties I would still be afforded while imprisoned in my own private paradise prison.”

Luminess rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow, shaking her head as she chuckled softly. “Really, Indy, the situation is dire enough without you nagging at my personal principles over my duties as a Beacon.”

The prosthetist cackled quietly beside her, grinning all too wide as he satisfied himself with her acknowledgement of such a Truth. “I am teasing, of course, my dear… Nothing about this is easy, and though it burns at my very soul to admit it… this is a necessary action to take. So long as it remains a stopgap, and not a solution. And Titans Observe that I may rest easy knowing you are at the lead of such a project.” 

“Titans may Observe it so… but they shan’t,” Luminess responded softly.

Intamin jogged in front of her to impede her movement, narrowing his ocular sensors to thin lines as he looked over her features for any sign that she might be joking. She was not.

“... You will not be staying? But you said--”

“I know that I spoke in favor of quarantine and I stand by that. It is what is right for our people, both of them, all of them… But it is not my place. For certain, This Unit could perform the task and do it well, but I am by no means the only one capable of doing so."

Intamin looked her over curiously. "Did not the King ask you to do it yourself?"

Luminess allowed a sly smirk. "He merely asked me to ensure it will be done. I will reach out Wenzli Cogsalvage to manage this in my stead. She is the finest community organizer I have seen since the end of the Revolution. And though I am beloved by many, as a Beacon I am still mistrusted by the same amount or more for our ties to the Mad Tyrant’s Orthodoxy and the work that remains in our reform thereof… By contrast, she is of the people in a way I can never truly be ever again, and will therefore be more efficient in inspiring trust in this time. In addition, since it is Wenzli... I will have the added bonus of most people simply mistaking her for being me anyway, as normal."

The prosthetist clicked his teeth. She certainly had a point, if not several, but he was not letting her off the hook so easily. "And so if your place is not here, Miss Brightcoil… Then where is it?" 

A brief question inspires an eternity in a split second of consideration. Where, indeed? Was her place in Stormwind, with the Embassy as an Ambassador? Was her place with Prince Erazmin and the Rustbolt Resistance, now expanding their field of operation to fight back against the emergent Scourge threat? Was it with the other medical professionals of the Azeroth Medical Association, searching for a long term solution against the contagion and the short term efforts of caring for those currently afflicted? Was it with her mercenary allies in the Dragon Corps or the Fence Macabre, beating back the hordes with them and other Champions? Was it by the side of those she held dear, one small clutch of beloved friends or another? 

Luminess smirked just for a moment before lifting her gaze to Intamin. Her eyes flickered Gold with the Light before she answered him with a warm tone.

“Uncertain. But what you said earlier rings true again: Wherever my place might be… it is quite clear that the answer is not here, in Mechagon. It is out there… in Azeroth.”

Intamin couldn’t help but allow a smugly satisfied grin plaster his face, flashing that perfect one-millimeter gap in his front teeth as they bit lightly upon his tongue to stifle a boisterous guffaw that would otherwise spoil what could be looked back upon as a tender moment.

“Titans Observe,” he said simply, and embraced his friend tightly with both arms, squeezing as hard as he can, as he always did, knowing that once again, this could be the final opportunity to do so. “But I shall not allow you to continue your adventures abroad unaided. Your previously requested modifications are complete and awaiting installation back at my workshop over a splendid Torcolato I’ve been saving for just such an occasion.” 

“Mister Diveroll, there is absolutely nothing that I would enjoy more at this precise moment,” said Luminess, as she sniffled once and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the collar of her ceremonial garb after returning the embrace of a beloved friend and confidant. She then grabbed hold of his arm for escort down the winding path from the High Tinkertory, down to into the city which she held so dear, the city which until only still so recently was all she had known.

And as she walked, audibly promising the matter was settled to her companion, she continued to silently deliberate within herself over it all... whether she was making the right or wrong choice, whether there was an optimization to their plans she failed to find, whether or not it was hopeless to even try, endlessly as she would, as she does, and as she has, every single day of her life.

And as such... she prayed to the Titans, as she did, every single day of her life, that they may Observe her following the ideal path.

Tell me what your spirit says Show me what you pray Teach me every single part I'll be your guide You are a prisoner Looking for to be You can change your face But can't change your mind No matter what do you do No matter what do you do No matter what do you do No matter what do you do

[noona-clock]

I’ll Be Fine

Genre: College!AU/Fluff

Pairing: Jae x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, The Great Cookie Bake-Off

The first thing you did after swinging open the door to your dorm room was let out a long, very frustrated sigh. And then you flung yourself onto your bed, burying your face in your pillows and whining desperately.

“So,” your roommate chirped. “I’m assuming you had a good Thanksgiving.”

You rolled over onto your back, groaning as you did because you were simply exhausted. Drained of all energy. “Oh, yeah,” you replied sarcastically with a deeply furrowed brow. “Very good. I spent the entire time dodging questions about my boyfriend.”

“...You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Exactly!”

Your roommate sighed softly, turning around in her desk chair to face you. “Well, I spent the entire week doing homework, so I guess we’re both outta gas, huh?”

“Holidays are supposed to be relaxing! You’re supposed to come back refreshed and eager and ready to get back to the grind! So why do I just want to go to sleep for the next ten hours?”

“Go eat something,” she suggested as she turned back around and began typing. “You’re like the embodiment of those Snickers commercials. You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, managing to sit up even though you truly could’ve laid on your bed for the rest of the week. “Come with me?”

“I can’t. I’ve got this paper to finish up.”

“I’m sorry, but being a Pre-Law major sucks. I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m glad I did not,” you said with a grimace. She was constantly writing papers and doing homework, and you were just too lazy for that life.

Your roommate shot you a somewhat sassy look, quirking her brow and pursing her lips. “Speak to me again when I’m making double -- triple -- the amount of money you are, Miss Education Major.”

You were about to snap back with ‘Well, I’ll be teaching our future and making a difference!’ But... she would also be making a difference as a lawyer, so... There went that argument.

“Whatever,” you sighed. “I’ll just marry rich.”

“You have to find a boyfriend first,” she reminded you cheekily.

“Okay, I’m leaving.”

“Wait! I think Jae is back already. You should ask him to go with you. I don’t think he’s ever said ‘no’ to a meal before.”

“This is true,” you murmured as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. You brought up your message conversation with Jae, typing out your question as quickly as you could. You’d just realized how hungry you actually were, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could wait to head off to the dining hall.

Jae must have been just as hungry as you because he replied back almost immediately.

“All right, see you later,” you sighed as you rolled off your bed and lifted an arm to wave goodbye to your roommate.

“Can you bring me back a slice of pizza?” your roommate asked quickly as you opened the door.

“Ya snooze, ya lose.”

“I’m not snoozing, I’m working!”

You cackled as you closed the door behind you, though both of you knew you would definitely bring her back a slice of pizza. You had a habit of pretending to be mean and uncaring when, really, you had one of the softest hearts. You would do anything for your friends.

Since Jae lived in the dorm next door, you figured he would meet you at the dining hall just across the street. It was the closest one, so why would you go anywhere else?

Lo and behold, when you walked into the spacious room filled with tables, you saw Jae already waiting at one of them.

“Well, well, well,” you announced as you approached him. “Pink hair. This is new.”

Jae was actually one of your roommate’s friends from high school; a tight-knit group of them had enrolled here together, so when you’d been randomly picked to be the roommate of one of them, you’d initially felt totally lost and left out.

But both your roommate and Jae had taken you in almost immediately. You got along extremely well with the both of them, and they’d actually become two of your closest friends over the past year and a half.

Jae quickly looked up at you, a somewhat embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah... just needed a change.”

“I like it,” you grinned as he stood from his seat.

He murmured his thanks as the two of you headed over to the sushi station, collecting your trays and placing your orders.

“So, how was your Thanksgiving?” Jae asked, apparently deciding to get most of your talking done now as you were waiting for the chef to make your California rolls. I mean, honestly, once you both got started eating, your mouths would be too full to say anything, so it was just as well.

“It was awful,” you replied with an angelic smile. “My family wouldn’t get off my case about the boyfriend I don’t have.”

“Ouch,” he hissed with a shake of his head.

“Same. I mean, I don’t understand why they’re so concerned with the fact that I’m single. I’m only in my second year of college! I’m still very young! Wouldn’t they rather I focus on school right now?” You simply rolled your eyes before asking Jae in return, “What about yours?”

“Well, about the same. Found out Jamie was cheating on me, so I broke up with her.”

“Oh, my god!” you gasped. “Seriously?!”

Jae nodded, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “She’s been hounding me ever since, trying to apologize and get back together.”

“But you’re not having it?” you asked, clasping your empty tray to your chest.

“Nope. I mean, she did it once. If we got back together, there’s every chance she would do it again. I’m not gonna put myself through that.”

“...Are you gonna be okay?” you asked softly. After all, they’d been together since high school. It had to be rough.

“Yeah,” Jae replied with a nod. “I’ll be fine. Live and learn.”

You frowned, reaching out with one hand and putting it on his fluffy, pink head. You stroked his hair gently as you let out a soft sigh. Jae was one of the nicest, coolest people you knew. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that!

Just then, Jamie herself walked through the dining hall doors. She spotted you petting Jae’s head, obviously, because her eyes narrowed.

“Oops,” you murmured, quickly pulling your hand away.

“No, no,” Jae whispered. “Do that again.”

“Do what again?”

“Pet my head!”

“Why --”

“Just do it!”

You reached out yet again, smoothing your palm over his hair and trying to look as sorry as you just had.

Jae’s eyes flitted over toward Jamie, and you saw she’d now pursed her lips and stomped off to another part of the dining hall.

“Oh, my god, I have an idea,” Jae said in a tone of slight awe.

“...What?” 

The sushi chef handed over your orders then, and you thanked him before heading off back to the table Jae had occupied just a few minutes ago.

“Okay, this might sound crazy,” Jae began, sliding into the seat next to you. He leaned in, lowering his voice so only you could hear. (There was literally no one around you so it didn’t matter how low his voice was, but whatever.) “But I think it could work.”

“What could work?”

“Your family is going to hound you again when you go home for Christmas, right?”

You simply rolled your eyes in response.

“And did you see Jamie’s reaction when you were petting my hair?”

“Yeah...” Okay, where was he going with this?

“What if we pretend to be dating?”

“What?!” you cried. You immediately clapped your hand over your mouth because your voice had been a lot louder than you’d intended.

“What?!” you repeated in a whisper. “That doesn’t just sound crazy. That is crazy!”

“But think about it! I can visit you at home so your family will get off your case about being single. You can act like my girlfriend around campus where Jamie can see. Your family will shut up, and Jamie will realize we’re not getting back together and stop stalking me. We both win!”

The expression on Jae’s face made it clear he thought he’d come up with the most genius, fool-proof plan ever, and it was actually pretty difficult to say no to that face...

But you were going to, anyway.

“No way.”

“Are you sure?” Jae asked, looking awfully skeptical.

“Yes, I am sure! That would never work!”

He simply let out a sigh before grabbing his chopsticks and picking up a roll of sushi from his plate. “All right. But if you change your mind...”

“I’ll let you know,” you told him with a disbelieving chuckle. Because you were quite sure you weren’t going to change your mind.

The rest of your meal panned out in a very average way: you talked about your upcoming finals, what you wanted for Christmas, the latest Memes... y’know. Normal college stuff.

Thankfully, Jae didn’t bring up his crazy fake dating scheme again, though he did say, “And remember. If you change your mind...” when you parted ways at your dorm building.

You were still chuckling softly to yourself and shaking your head when you arrived back in your dorm room, prompting your roommate to swivel around and eye you curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, man,” you groaned as you plopped onto your bed. You held out the to-go box with the pizza you’d grabbed for her on your way out, your smile growing when you heard her joyful squeal. “Jae -- well, first of all, if you didn’t know: Jamie cheated on him, so he dumped her.”

“I knew it! I never trusted her. Didn’t I say --”

“And he came up with this ridiculous idea,” you interrupted. (Your roommate had a penchant for going on preachy rants, and you’d learned to just stop her before she got started.) “I told him about my family, right? And he said we should pretend to be in a relationship to get my family to stop bothering me and to get Jamie to stop bothering him. Apparently, she keeps texting him wanting to get back together, but I immediately --”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” she mumbled, her mouth half-full of pepperoni, hot cheese, and freshly-baked dough.

You stopped talking mid-sentence, your mouth hanging open with your unspoken words.

“...I’m sorry, what?” you asked after a few awkwardly silent moments.

“It’s not! I mean, you two are friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You know each other, so it’s not like people wouldn’t believe it. And if it gets you guys both free from your demons... what’s the harm?”

“Uh... the harm is it’s weird?”

“It’s not that weird! You’re helping each other out! You like helping friends. You got me this pizza, didn’t you?” She held the box up with a very angelic look on her face.

“That is not even remotely the same. Getting Jae pizza and pretending to be his girlfriend are two -- I mean, you can’t even compare them. Apples to oranges.”

“Well, all I’m saying is, I don’t think it’s as crazy as you do. I think he’s right. It could totally work. But, hey, it’s not me who would be in the fake relationship, so...” She shrugged before shoving more of the pizza into her mouth and swiveling back around to face her laptop.

You were about to continue on with your argument, bringing up the fact you weren’t living in a Netflix movie or something. Pretending to be Jae’s girlfriend would only make it awkward between you two once you “broke up,” and you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him!

But what was the point, really? Your roommate was going to be a lawyer. Whatever argument you made, she would be able to refute it and top it.

So you simply got out your phone and pulled up YouTube, preparing to watch a Vine compilation or five. Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, and you would start studying for finals then. Today, you would relax and de-stress from your Hell week at home.

Truthfully, you almost cried when your alarm went off the next morning.

You weren’t ready to get out from under your warm, cozy blankets. You weren’t ready to get dressed or brush your teeth. You weren’t ready to gather your books and put on your backpack and trek to class in the cold. You weren’t ready to sit in your seat for an hour and attempt to pay attention.

As much as you’d suffered over the Thanksgiving holidays, you were not that much happier being back at school - actually going to class.

You flung your arm out, grasping for your phone and pressing the ‘Snooze’ button on the screen. But rather than going back to sleep, you slid your phone off your side table and brought it up to your face to check your notifications.

Email, email, Instagram, Twitter, email, text from your mom, text from your aunt -- wait, holy crap.

The two messages from your mom and aunt were part of a group chat, one you had no idea you’d been added to, and as you scrolled down... you saw at least two dozen more messages.

You slid the notification over, opening the chat and navigating up to the very beginning.

The very first message was one from your cousin. She’d sent it last night after you’d fallen asleep, and the rest of your family had been responding since then, including this morning.

The message?

It was a picture of her left hand. With a ring on it.

A diamond ring.

Oh, fuck.

You thought it had been bad over Thanksgiving, but now that your cousin was engaged?! The questions and quips and remarks about your own love life would get even worse.

And you really didn’t think you could handle that.

You shouldn’t have to! Not over Christmas!

You slammed your phone back down on your side table before lugging yourself out of bed, sluggishly starting to get ready for class.

Unsurprisingly, you started off your day in a pretty foul mood. You trudged over to the English building for your first class of the day. You scowled as your professor lectured about archetypes and symbolism. You picked at your breakfast, barely touching it even though you were one to rarely ever skip a meal.

And then, as you were pushing your scrambled eggs around on your plate with your fork. you had an idea.

Well, not really an idea.

The more accurate term would be ‘you changed your mind.’

You stood immediately, picking up your tray and hurrying over to the kitchen window to deposit it. And then you weaved your way through the tables of chattering students, your heart racing and your mind whirling.

Within three minutes, you were standing in front of the door to Jae’s dorm, out of breath and knocking as gently as you could manage. You were kind of shaking, so you were finding it just a tad difficult to control your body right now.

As soon as the door opened, you made sure it was Jae answering - not his roommate, Wonpil - before blurting out, “Let’s do it.”

“...Let’s do what?” he asked groggily, his pink hair adorably mussed up. Lucky him with no morning classes.

“Let’s date -- fake date. I changed my mind. Let’s do it.”

Part 2

[spacedancer1701]

On Borrowed Time - a Star Trek fic (Chapters 21 - 30)

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Friendship, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Mild H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy McCoy Word Count: This is a long one 😄 (61 chapters - 120k)

Read it on AO3: On Borrowed Time 

Chapter 21

Hope was very quiet that evening, McCoy noticed. Not necessarily sad, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. After she’d told him not to worry so much, she’d mostly been staring out into space, slowly sipping her coffee, and he was content to just sit back and watch her.

Knowing that he’d be here, she’d obviously come looking for him, and he was glad that, after the emotional rollercoaster he’d put her on by stupidly mentioning her family, she still felt comfortable around him. If just sitting here, next to him, quietly enjoying her coffee was what she needed, that was all right with him. Whatever helped her find back to her cheerful self again, quite obviously her most pressing issue.

Moping about was just not in her nature, and he could almost see her fight the ‘negative vibes’, as she’d probably call them, that stood between her and her natural state of happiness.

Looking at her beautiful face, so deep in thought, softly lit by the observation deck’s dim lighting, he couldn’t help thinking how a single person had changed his life so much for the better in so short a time.

Despite his reputation as a curmudgeon, which he rather enjoyed, McCoy was actually an affable person, always good for a laugh. But he had to admit that he hadn’t laughed as much as he had since Hope arrived in a long time. She could be hilarious, her wit and cheerfulness infectious.

When she was there, she was the heart and soul of the rec room. And when it was just the two of them in his office or over coffee, she could always make him smile over something or other, even after a hard and frustrating day.

Like with the patients, she always seemed to know what he needed. Be it a deep conversation to help him get closure over something or just playful banter to cheer him up. Belying her youth or the fact that he’d always assumed that was what buddies – male buddies – were for, she was the perfect friend for both.

And if, at times, she read him wrong, he could simply tell her. He could always speak his mind with her, it was refreshing. He could even ask her to leave him alone without her taking offence. Theoretically. Since this had yet to happen.

Jim was and would always be his closest friend. He trusted him completely and knew he could tell him anything. And there was Scotty, of course. But there were things that you just didn’t discuss with a mate.

Uhura was lovely, too. He knew he could always count on her where it mattered. But their relationship was a flirty one. They’d never had a deep or really personal conversation.

Christine, on the other hand, was anything but flirty. Always calm and professional. And he admired and appreciated her for it. He knew he could totally rely on her and her confidentiality. She was great to discuss medical matters with. But she somehow lacked the warmth that encouraged more personal, intimate conversations.

Well, thank God for Dr. Hope, he thought with a dreamy smile, taking a sip from his coffee.

Maybe it was because they were not too different in some ways. They were both people who others came to for help, or advice, or an open ear. And they were good listeners. But even though they appeared very chatty and open, they were, in fact, both rather private people who didn’t easily share personal matters.

Most people didn’t seem to notice, of course. They were happy to unburden themselves, and that was enough. Come to think about it, he’d already shared a lot more personal matters with Hope than with anybody else. Joanna, for example. Because Hope genuinely cared. And because she didn’t judge.

He briefly thought about how his and Joanna’s life would have turned out with a different wife at his side. Someone warm and caring like Hope.

Don’t even go there, Leonard, he scolded himself, pushing the thought to the farthest reaches of his mind.

At any rate, it had really done him good to open up to Hope about Joanna. And he genuinely hoped she’d let him return the favour soon and share her sorrows with him, too.

********************

With a sinking feeling in his heart, Chekov watched Jenny and McCoy from the other side of the observation deck. No matter what he did, they seemed to be growing closer every day. Huddled together on that couch, they seemed so intimate, so familiar with each other, it made him cringe. At least they weren’t touching.

Perhaps he was imagining things, maybe Jenny and the doctor were really nothing more than friends after all. Like she was friends with her buddies from the band. But then again, lovely as Jenny was when they danced or worked out together, their relationship was definitely not evolving the way he’d like it to. Whenever he tried to tell her of his feelings, she’d just laugh it off and change the subject, talking about her career being her number one priority. Or worse, rattle on about this ‘brotherly/sisterly’ feeling between them.

For the past couple of weeks, Chekov had taken to joining Jenny and McCoy over breakfast or dinner, whenever he could, the latter seeming to ‘supervise’ every single one of her meals as of lately. If he couldn’t have Jenny, he figured, at least he wouldn’t leave her to the doctor without a fight.

But strangely, they didn’t seem to mind and even asked him to join them at their table whenever they saw him. The thought struck him that they might just want him around to divert from their own budding relationship. And fond as he was of the doctor, the idea was killing him.

He’d tried talking to his friends about it several times, but they’d just smiled and said variations of ‘What will be will be’. Only Uhura had sometimes gently suggested that, doctor or no doctor, he would surely notice if Jenny felt more than friendship for him.

********************

Uhura sometimes tried to get Jenny to talk about her feelings. But while she quite openly admitted that she was not in love with Chekov, she always avoided talking about her feelings for the doctor. She’d say things like what a great physician he was, or how kind or fun to be around, but that was it.

“Right, you’re definitely not in love with poor Pavel,” Uhura said to Jenny as they were jogging side by side on the treadmills in the gym. “But what about the doctor?”

“What about him?” Jenny glanced at Uhura, grimacing at her impish smirk. “What do you want to hear? I just like being around him. I find his presence incredibly soothing.”

“Soothing?” Uhura chortled, surprise making her lose her rhythm and nearly slide off the treadmill. “We’re talking about Dr. McCoy here, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Jenny, I like him a lot, I really do. But soothing is about the last word that comes to mind when I think of him. He’s so hyper and bouncy and irascible and talkative, always good for discussions and confrontations.”

“That’s how you see him?” Jenny looked at Uhura pensively. “I mean, yes he can be rather restless. And passionate. Especially in his capacity as a physician. But he is also really kind and caring, a very good listener and observer. Which means he can be calm and quiet, too. Maybe you just don’t notice how often he takes a backseat and just watches?”

“You might have a point there. He’s certainly one of the good guys. Fun and sweet, too. Maybe I just see what he wants us to see.”

“Yes, maybe. He certainly likes to cultivate his image as curmudgeon,” Jenny giggled. “But just think of how calm he is in emergencies. So focused, so in control, every move executed precisely and expertly. I find that immensely reassuring. Simply watching him makes me feel safe.”

“I get what you mean. You’re right. He’s incredible in crises,” Uhura admitted. “I always feel safer on missions when he’s part of the landing party. Like whatever injuries you might incur, he’ll fix them.”

“Exactly.”

“So, to get back to our actual topic,” Uhura grinned at Jenny, “apart from ‘soothing’, do you find him anything else?”

“Uh, leave me alone, Nyota, will you?” Jenny shook her head and increased the pace on her treadmill a little. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not looking for a man? I’m perfectly fine building my career and living the dream of being a starship officer.”

Uhura fell silent. She still had her suspicions, of course, but it could well be that Jenny really just wanted a career and was in no hurry to hitch up with a man. The doctor, on the other hand, was another matter. Even though he’d probably never act on it, he was clearly as smitten with Jenny as Chekov. That was plain for everyone to see. Even poor Pavel.

Chapter 22

“Captain, I’m receiving a subspace signal,” Uhura’s voice startled Kirk out of the report he was reading and he looked up excitedly.

Even though it had only been a few days since Scotty had given the all clear after the rock exploding incident, the captain was already getting bored again, as uneventful shifts seemed to drag on.

“Who’s it from? What does it say?” he asked eagerly.

“Unknown, Captain,” came Spock’s immediate answer.

“Come again?” Kirk spun round to the science station, frowning.

“Unknown, Sir,” Spock repeated, unruffled. “The planet it originates from is uninhabited. No intelligent life found there, no animal life at all, more precisely.”

“And the message is just gibberish,” Uhura added, sounding mystified and a little miffed.

“A code of some kind?” Kirk asked, knowing quite well that Uhura would already have checked every possibility.

“No, Sir,” came her crisp reply, “there is no pattern to the signal whatsoever.”

“Spock? Anything?” the captain turned back to his science officer.

“Negative, Captain.”

“Maybe we should consult Dr. Hope?” Chekov piped up.

“Excellent idea, Ensign,” Kirk readily agreed. “Maybe her ‘intuition’ can shed some light on this. Call her to the bridge, please, Uhura.”

********************

Down in sickbay, an excited Hope asked McCoy for permission to leave for the bridge.

“Of course, Hope, you go, girl!” he smiled, taking a stack of vaccines off her hands and waving her off with a friendly pat on the back.

This will do her good, he thought.

Happy as she seemed here in sickbay, she was certainly thrilled at the chance to put her qualifications to good use, the thought of working in her actual field of expertise again for a change, definitely appealing.

Maybe that was exactly what she needed. Her mind taken off whatever was bothering her by a challenging task in her area of competence. The area she was so passionate about.

McCoy was, of course, still determined to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding her, but dwelling on it was certainly not the right way to do so. He’d learned long ago, that you couldn’t force anyone to open up. Not if you wanted to get to the truth, anyway. No, he’d let her know that he’d be there, if she wanted to talk. Now it was up to her.

He needed her to trust him, not to scare her off by constantly nagging and prying. And he certainly didn’t want her to be continuously reminded of her sorrows. Not if she just wanted to be happy.

Less than an hour later, after Hope hadn’t managed to gain any more information from the signal than Uhura and Spock had, explaining to Kirk that all of the intuitive equipment needed to be close to the source to function properly, McCoy and Kirk were having a heated discussion in the captain’s quarters over whether or not Hope was ready to be included in a landing party.

“I simply don’t think it’s a good idea, Jim!”

“Why not? She’s proven herself more than capable over the past few months. And I have orders to give her a full all-round training, remember?”

“Since when do you give a damn about orders, Jim?” McCoy groused.

Kirk just gave him a wry look.

“But then I’ll come, too. I have a bad feeling about this,” the doctor insisted.

“You have a bad feeling about every mission, Bones,” the captain chuckled, and then, giving his friend a sly grin, continued, “or do you have more personal reasons this time?”

“Oh, please, leave me alone, Jim,” McCoy groaned.

“Well, you do spend an awful lot of time with her.”

“So what? So does Chekov. And Scotty. And Uhura. Even Spock for that matter. And by the way, so do you!”

“Well, she is delightful to be around!” Kirk snorted with laughter.

McCoy chose to ignore the silly teasing and, giving a resigned shrug, resumed their original discussion.

“I’m just saying, I’m her doctor, and I’ve only just begun to understand her medical issues.”

“I thought they were only minor?” Kirk shot him a hard glance, all teasing gone from his voice.

“Yes, they are,” the doctor conceded, “but not very common these days and I don’t have any experience with them at all.”

“Will her performance be impaired?” Kirk was being serious now.

“No, not in a crucial way.”

“So that’s settled then,” the captain said impatiently. “She’s coming. And so are you.”

McCoy’s head shot up at that last sentence, and he gave Kirk a grateful nod.

********************

When McCoy entered the transporter room, medikit slung over his shoulder, fully prepared for every eventuality, Hope was already there, nervously checking her utility and weapons belt.

She looked up at the hiss of the doors and smiled at him, trying to radiate confidence and professionalism like she always did. And, of course, he didn’t let on that he saw right through her. That he clearly - and fondly - saw the apprehension and insecurity beneath that confident and cheerful smile.

He wanted to say something reassuring, but before he could even open his mouth, the doors hissed open again, and Kirk entered in his usual energetic stride, avidly awaiting the next adventure.

“Welcome to your first landing party, Hope!” he grinned at her. “Ready for some excitement planetside?”

McCoy knew, of course, that Jim didn’t know Hope as well as he did, didn’t recognise the slight tremor in her eyes giving away that she feared the new experience as much as she was looking forward to it. Had never seen the timid and vulnerable side to the confident and sassy personality she wanted the world to see. But he still could have punched the captain for his thoughtlessness, when he saw Hope slightly wince and pale before rearranging her features into a dazzling smile.

“Can’t wait, Sir,” she beamed at him, “thank you, Sir!”

********************

Jenny felt her heart hammering against her chest as she watched Peterson from Security calmly arranging his belt. She’d known this day would come and been looking forward to it immensely, but suddenly wasn’t so sure she was ready anymore.

Nothing hostile on the planet, the captain had said. No animal or intelligent life, only lush and abundant flora, a nice, breathable atmosphere, and a little linguistic mystery. The perfect setup for her first landing party. They’d be back before dinnertime.

Spock had wanted to come, too. But the captain had told him to stay on the ship. Just in case, he’d said. And it was then that Jenny had realised this was it, this was real.

She’d been tremendously relieved to hear that McCoy was coming with them, his mere presence making her feel safe. When they stepped onto the transporter platform, and she felt his reassuring hand resting briefly on her shoulder, she could have kissed him.

The last thing she saw before fading out in the tingling transporter beam, was the doctor’s kind smile as he mouthed, “You’ll be fine!”

Chapter 23

As soon as they materialised, they quickly looked around and took a few scans to secure the area. Kirk was amused to see Hope following protocol down to a T, probably having rehearsed it like one of her dance choreographies. But he was also satisfied to see that she’d clearly done her homework.

While she was focused on her purpose-built linguistic tricorder, the captain took out his communicator to check in with Spock.

“Impressive scenery here, Spock,” he said, taking in his surroundings. “Everything’s just huge!”

“I did inform you about the flora of this planet being superior to most, Captain. In scale, colour and scent,” sounded his first officer’s unimpressed voice from the communicator.

“Of course you did, Mr. Spock,” Kirk smiled, “but it’s even more gigantic when you’re standing right in the middle of it.”

“Captain, I don’t see how …”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” the captain quickly cut in, before Spock could start to dissect his last statement in earnest. “I’ll check in with you again in one hour. Kirk out!”

Then, still grinning, he turned to Hope.

“Found anything yet, Hope? Where do we get our answers? Lead the way!”

But Hope just shook her head, looking somewhat dismayed.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I can’t get anything. There’s just no signal.”

Frowning, Kirk pulled his communicator out again.

“Uhura, we’re not getting any readings down here. What’s your status on the signal?”

“It stopped while you were talking to Mr. Spock, Sir,” the communications officer replied. “I’m trying everything to get it back, unsuccessfully so far.”

“Keep trying, Uhura, and let us know of any progress. Kirk out!” he shut his communicator a little too forcefully, and Hope winced at his obvious displeasure.

McCoy’s heart went out to her. She was clearly taking the sudden absence of the signal as a personal failure. Taking a step closer to where she was standing, he surveyed the enormous trees and man-sized flowers. A giant redwood wouldn’t look giant here at all.

“This is like out of a storybook,” he said reverently, drawing Kirk’s attention away from Hope. “The trees and twines seem to go on forever. It looks like even the sky is higher up here.”

“Good thing, Spock couldn’t hear you, Bones,” the captain laughed. “He might have to say a thing or two about the sky being higher or lower.”

“I see what you mean, Doctor,” Peterson chuckled. “I’m just waiting for Jack to climb down his beanstalk.”

Looking up from her tricorder, Hope added, “You’re right, this landscape looks so unreal, maybe we’ll even come across some oversized teacups or the big white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland!”

She was quite taken aback, when that earned her a disgruntled look from McCoy and an exaggerated chortle from Kirk, who obviously found this hilarious.

“Better not talk to Bones about Alice or the rabbit, Hope,” the captain warned, still chuckling, as she just looked on in bewilderment. “He holds a personal grudge against them, against all of Wonderland, actually. But that’s a story for another day. I’m sure the good doctor will be happy to tell you all about it.” 1)

McCoy snorted, then returned his gaze to his tricorder and mumbled, “Let’s just focus on the task at hand here, shall we?”

Kirk had Peterson and McCoy scout out wider parts of the area to one side of where Hope was still busy with her tricorder, while he made his way to the other side. Just when he was starting to get really impatient, his communicator beeped and an audibly relieved Hope reported that the signal was back. So did Uhura mere seconds later.

The captain quickly contacted McCoy and Peterson, and by the time they arrived back at Hope’s location, they saw her standing in the middle of the small clearing, her phaser drawn and pointed at what could only be described as a giant beetroot, moving slowly, but threateningly towards her, secreting some kind of acid and burning everything in its path.

“Shoot!” Kirk shouted, realising that she was just standing there, frozen, and drew his own phaser.

He hit the ‘creature' an instant before Hope’s phaser beam had the already staggering beetroot drop to the ground, where it lay motionless.

“Why didn’t you shoot sooner? It could have killed you!” Kirk snapped, evidently unhappy with her poor performance, while McCoy and Peterson cautiously approached the ‘thing’ on the ground.

“It’s dead, Jim,” McCoy called out. “Assuming it ever lived. It’s got some sort of roots that look like they’ve been ripped out of the ground. Presumably that’s how it moved. We can’t touch it, though, it’s highly corrosive.”

And straightening up again, he added a grumbling, “So much for ‘nothing hostile’ on this planet.”

Turning back to Kirk, who had already flipped open his communicator and was talking to Spock, McCoy saw that Hope hadn’t moved an inch. Phaser still in hand, she was standing in the same spot, staring unseeingly at the downed creature.

Realising that she was in a state of shock, he hurried to her side, put an arm around her shoulders and gently took the phaser from her, all the time talking soothingly to her.

“The Captain’s just scared for you, dear,” he murmured, “that’s why he snapped at you like that.”

He held her a little tighter and gently shook her, until she finally came round and immediately broke away from him to throw up behind a bush.

“I’ve never killed before in my life,” she whispered, when she heard him come up behind her.

Crouching down in front of her, McCoy gently cupped her face in his hand to get her attention, and when he caught her eye, looked at her intensely. He needed to pull her out of her shock. And quickly. Kirk expected nothing but efficiency from his crew. He had no patience for insecurities on a mission. Hope would have to deal with the emotional fallout of her first kill later. And he’d help her with it, like he’d helped many a rookie before. But now was not the time.

The touch of a gentle hand roused Jenny from her dizzy thoughts, and she looked up to find the doctor’s kind blue eyes only inches from her face. Her first instinct was to lean into him for comfort, but his piercing gaze brought her back to reality and she pulled herself together.

“You’re going to be alright, Hope, I promise,” he said softly, standing up and pulling her to her feet. “We’ll talk about all of this back on the Enterprise, but now we just need to move on, ok? Can you do that?”

“Of course, Doctor, thank you,” she whispered and gratefully wiped her face with a tissue he handed her while putting his arm around her shoulders to give her a quick hug and a reassuring rub.

This little gesture was all she needed to get her moving again. The doctor certainly knew how to comfort and reassure. Jenny felt an intense surge of affection and gratitude as she straightened both her uniform and her posture, and gave him a nod to say she was ready to move on.

Following McCoy back to Kirk and Peterson, she could hear the captain’s angry voice.

“What? You mean we’re stuck here?”

“Afraid so, Captain,” Scotty’s apologetic voice sounded from his communicator. “A delayed aftereffect of that blasted rock exploding in our face, Sir.”

“How long?” Kirk barked.

“Couple of hours, Sir, if there’s no further surprises.”

“Right. Get on it then, Mr. Scott!” the captain sighed, and, snapping his communicator shut, informed the others, “Guess we’ll get to follow that signal’s trail after all. Everybody, watch out for hostile vegetable!”

Kirk allowed Hope a couple more minutes to recover and adjust the settings on her tricorder. As soon as McCoy indicated that she was good to go, the small party set off, following traces of unintelligible babble.

It was her very first landing party and everything was going sideways. She should really be afraid, scared even. But strangely enough, she wasn’t. Looking from the captain to Peterson, and then on to McCoy, she was suddenly, inexplicably certain that everything would be all right in the end.

********************

1) Reference to the TOS episode “Shore Leave”

Chapter 24

They moved along at a steady pace, with Peterson leading the way and Kirk bringing up the rear, and Jenny thought how nice it was to actually walk on soft ground and breathe unfiltered air again for a change. It didn’t matter that it was nothing like Earth, that the smell was not entirely pleasant, or that you constantly had to watch your back. She could fully understand why people scrambled for every chance to be included in a landing party, never mind the dangers that came with it.

The captain filled them in on his conversation with Spock, who had already investigated why there were no recordings of hostile or dangerous species. The First Officer had found out that most of the existing data was just the result of a number of simple scans from a distance, while the first and only team of explorers to ever actually set foot on the planet had spent less than three hours here. Since it had no valuable mineral resources to offer, the uninhabited planet had obviously never been of great interest.

Walking right behind her, McCoy kept a close eye on Hope. He didn't want to risk a repeat of the beetroot incident, the need to protect her stronger than ever. Neither did he want to embarrass her by being overprotective, of course, especially not in front of the others, but he needed to make sure she knew that he had her back. Although she’d probably never admit it, perhaps wasn't even aware of it, he knew how deeply engrained her longing to feel secure was.

Behind them, Kirk smiled as he watched McCoy follow Hope like a guard dog. His friend was a healer with all his heart, his prime concern to protect his patients from any harm, no matter his personal feelings towards them. But with Hope, it was definitely more than that. There was something about her that seemed to touch a special place in the doctor’s heart and made his concern for her well-being go far beyond professional duty.

Following the slowly but steadily increasing signal, they had already passed through a forest, and were now crossing a meadow, feeling like ants fighting their way through blades of bright green grass twice their size. That way, at least, they were protected from the sun that had started to really burn down on them.

But just as McCoy was starting to complain about the heat, making sure they were all drinking enough to stay hydrated, heavy rainclouds began to form in the sky, and mere minutes later, it was raining heavily. They quickly sought shelter under a giant kind of toadstool, and when Kirk was nearly hit by a hailstone the size of his fist, he brusquely pushed Hope and the doctor further towards the trunk, motioning Peterson to follow suit.

Jenny stood with her face against the trunk, feeling McCoy’s body warm against her back, a protective hand cupping the back of her head, as he tried to shield her from stray hailstones. Despite her rather uncomfortable position, she couldn’t help enjoying the unexpected bliss of the moment. A whole army of tall and beefy Petersons couldn’t have made her feel as sheltered as she felt now, pressed against the caring doctor.

No more than a couple of minutes later, however, hail turned into the softest snow, and McCoy could release her again, almost sorry to let her go, since this was definitely the closest he’d ever come to holding her in his arms. Not counting the day she’d passed out in sickbay, seemingly ages ago, of course, as she’d not even been conscious then.

********************

Grateful for the material of their Starfleet uniforms, that protected them, at least moderately, against the heat and the cold, they continued on their hike, admiring the way the huge snowflakes drifted through the air, and at the same time hoping the sun would soon be back out to warm and dry them again.

Their wish was granted within less than ten minutes, when the cold and windy winter’s day turned back into a lovely spring day.

Kirk pulled out his communicator to check on Scotty’s progress.

“You’d better hurry, Scotty,” he urged. “The weather here’s worse than in Scotland! They may have all seasons in one day, while we, here, had all seasons in half an hour!”

Unfortunately, the chief engineer had only bad news for them. They’d had an unexpected power drain on the Enterprise, and needed several more hours to recharge the transporters.

“At that rate, you might as well send a shuttle, Mr. Scott,” Kirk suggested, starting to sound really annoyed. “It’ll be getting dark soon, and I’d rather not stay the night.”

“Err, about that, Sir,” Scotty began, then faltered.

“What now?” Kirk asked exasperatedly, his voice suspiciously quiet.

“Well, that power drain I talked about? If we recharge the shuttles, too, we’ll take away energy form the transporters.”

“I see,” the captain said wearily. “We’ll try to get comfortable for the night then. But you’d better come up with one of your miracles shortly, Mr. Scott. This is getting really tiresome.”

Concentrating on finding shelter rather than the source of the signal, the little group headed towards another forest further downhill. Luckily, they had brought enough food and water rations to last them another two or three days, thanks to McCoy’s prudence.

Less lucky, however, was the fact that Hope’s medical pouch was ripped out of her hand and carried away by a sudden, forceful gust of wind, just as she was about to take her eye medication.

Horrified, she watched the pouch being lifted ever higher into the air, while frantically holding on to the three men surrounding her, so as not to be carried away by the storm, too.

The wind died down again as quickly as it had started, and Hope stared incredulously after her pouch.

“Seriously?” she yelled angrily in the direction where it had vanished. “Can’t I do anything right? No wonder Starfleet won’t have me!”

To McCoy’s surprise, the captain was at her side before he was, and kindly but decidedly told her to stop the self-pitying, and get going again instead.

“This is only your first assignment,” he added encouragingly, “there’s still plenty of time for you to learn. You’re doing a great job so far.”

Hope looked thoughtfully at the captain for a moment, then nodded, brushed down her uniform, fixed her windswept hair – rather ineffectively – in a knot again, pulled herself up to her full height, and smiled at her three companions.

“Let’s go, gentlemen!”

Seeing Kirk give her a satisfied smile, seemingly impressed by how quickly she’d pulled herself together again, McCoy felt incredibly proud of her.

The party got moving again, the hike to the nearest forest taking much longer than Kirk had expected. The rain and snow had made the ground slippery, and walking became more difficult by the minute. Especially, since they were getting tired, too.

Falling into step beside her, McCoy told Hope not to worry. He had, of course, brought some of her eye-medication, too, although only a little quantity for emergencies. He therefore wanted to save it as long as possible and not let her have any yet.

Kirk was getting concerned about Hope, but McCoy correctly pointed out that she was probably in better shape than the two of them put together. The only sign of her getting tired, too, was her starting to slip and stumble repeatedly, as her nystagmus started to affect her eye-sight.

With McCoy still hesitating to squander the little of the medication they still had, Kirk smiled, watching the doctor hold out a helping hand towards her over and over again, which she stubbornly kept ignoring.

The two of them are certainly a perfect match in the stubbornness department, Kirk chuckled to himself.

He understood, however, why she wanted to prove that she could take care of herself. Especially after her failure to shoot that beetroot earlier. But McCoy just couldn't help himself. Tired as he certainly was, preventing her from getting hurt was still his prime concern.

His friend was a man always more concerned about others than about himself. And offering a helping hand to steady Hope when she lost her footing, was a reflex action.

After having slipped and nearly fallen three times, Hope gave in at last, and accepted the doctor’s help. Leading her by the hand, sometimes putting a steadying arm around her waist, they soon made faster progress again.

Their hike seemed to go on forever, and it was almost dark, when they finally found suitable shelter in a den formed by rocks and covered by a thick blanket of roots.

Firing at one of the rocks until it started to glow and radiate heat, Peterson asked permission to take the first watch.

“All right, Peterson. You first, then me, then McCoy,” the captain ordered, then turned to Hope almost apologetically. “Don’t take offence, Hope, I don’t doubt your ability to stay awake for a minute, but you don’t have any experience, and seeing what happened earlier, I just can’t risk it. If you freeze again, and there’s no one awake to step in, we’re all done for.”

There, he’d said it. Hope hung her head, but, of course, knew that he was right.

“Of course, Captain, I understand,” she replied quietly.

Peterson took position by the entrance to their den, while the others found a stonewall dry and smooth enough to prop themselves up against and try to find some sleep in a sitting-up position. Exchanging no more than a quick glance, Kirk and McCoy made themselves comfortable on either side of Hope.

********************

Jenny was wide awake, half-lying between the captain and the doctor, eyes closed and trying to breathe evenly, hoping to fake sleep convincingly. She felt pleasantly protected, nestled in between the two men, yet her mind wouldn’t rest, replaying the shooting scene over and over again. She’d always known she’d get into situations like that eventually, but the reality had still hit her hard. The captain, trained to find rest whenever possible, had fallen asleep within moments, but she knew the doctor hadn’t. She could feel his concerned eyes on her, and, after some time, his reassuring hand on her shoulder.

McCoy knew that she was afraid. Mostly of Jim sending her back to this out-of-the-way starbase. After the beetroot incident, it had been obvious that she was worried about her performance, fearing the captain would not commend her for further starship duty after all.

“Can’t sleep, can you, Hope?” he murmured.

“No,” she admitted. “Too many things on my mind.”

“Take it easy. Nobody expects you to be perfect on your first assignment with a landing party. There’s no shame in admitting to being a little nervous.” She looked at him in the near darkness.

“It was awful, Doctor,” she whispered. “I’ve never taken a life before.”

“And you didn’t, the captain did,” he reminded her gently. “If it even was a living being in the first place. But you might have to, one day. Comes with the job. You knew that when you joined Starfleet.”

She was silent for a moment, considering his words. “Do you ever get used to it?” she asked uneasily.

“Yes, and no,” he replied sincerely. “You’ll get used to using your weapons, to fight and defend yourself if you have to. But you’ll always be affected by hurting someone or even taking a life. That’s what makes you a decent human being.”

“I’ve always known that the real thing would be very different from training, from drills. In theory. But I never expected it to be so infinitely worse than anything I’ve ever prepared for.”

“It’ll get easier with time.”

Hope looked at him doubtfully, and he felt with her. “We really need to sleep now,” he said softly.

She nodded and, unthinkingly, reached for his hand still lying on her shoulder, giving it a grateful squeeze. When he didn’t pull away, she held on to it, drawing comfort from the touch and his presence.

And as she drifted off to sleep, the enormity of being part of the crew of the Enterprise, of being in the middle of a dangerous adventure with the captain, no less, followed her into her dreams. McCoy squeezed her fingers gently, comfortingly, and let her cling to his hand until she was fast asleep and he felt her grip loosen. He’d take care of her, try to give her the feeling of security she needed. Until she trusted him enough to tell him about her real issues.

Chapter 25

Hope had slept surprisingly well, more sitting than lying on the hard ground. The hike and all the excitement of the previous day had obviously worn her out more than she cared to admit. Or maybe having her favourite doctor hold her hand had helped. She hadn’t even been roused by the men changing shifts, and she felt a little guilty about it. Like she hadn’t pulled her weight.

But McCoy, who’d had the last watch and was now waking everybody up, didn’t seem to hold it against her.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he smiled warmly, as he handed out nutrition bars, then added with a wink, “I’m not even asking you about last night’s dreams. This definitely doesn’t count as a new bed, does it?”

Jenny shook her head and laughed, touched that he still remembered their conversation from her first day aboard.

McCoy was relieved to see her well rested and cheerful again. After their whispered conversation the evening before, he’d been afraid that the beetroot incident, certainly the stuff of nightmares, might haunt her in her sleep. But when Jim had woken him to take over, Hope had been soundly asleep, looking perfectly peaceful, and he’d spent the bigger part of his watch just looking at her in the dim light of the still glowing rock.

She was so pretty. The longer he knew her, the more beautiful she became. And, if anything, her slightly dishevelled state after the hike in the wind and the rain only added to her beauty. He’d just sat there and gazed at her, enjoying that he could, for once, take his time to do so. She’d really grown on him since she’d arrived only months ago. And he’d rather not think about a time when she wouldn’t be in his life anymore.

The way she was sandwiched between Jim and Peterson made him smile. Quite obviously, he was not the only one to feel protective of her. Protectiveness just being one of the many emotions Hope evoked in him.

But the doctor didn’t want to examine his feelings too closely. Why he was so moved by her, why being near her made him feel so alive. Why she seemed to fill a place in his heart no one else could. What was the point?

He knew that he couldn’t let himself have romantic feelings for her. Not even if he were ready to be in a relationship again, which he most definitely wasn’t. No, despite all her qualifications, despite being wise and mature beyond her age, hell, probably even beyond his age, she was just a girl.

And he was not the one for her. He could see that clearly, whenever he watched her with other men, younger men. Like Chekov. He could tell that they had a lot in common, a lot of fun together, too. They made a lovely couple, and he really liked Chekov.

He’d learned to ignore, or at least live with the knot forming in his stomach, every time he watched them practice their dancing together, their bodies moving in total sync, Pavel holding her close and touching her in such an intimate way. This ridiculous feeling of jealousy, that he could never quite shake, was completely uncalled for. He had no right to feel that way, no rights regarding her in any respect.

Or was it even jealousy? He couldn’t be sure. Because what bothered him even more than the thought of Hope in someone else’s arms, was that this someone might not be gentle and considerate enough with her. But then, everything was a little different when it came to Hope, wasn't it?

No, he was most definitely not the one for her. But he could be her friend, and he was in the lucky position to protect and mentor her. That had to be enough. That, and the hope that, whoever she’d end up with one day, she’d choose wisely and find someone who’d treat her with the utmost kindness and respect, someone who’d give her all the love and tenderness she needed and deserved.

********************

“Bones?” Kirk’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Can you try your communicator? I can’t get through to the Enterprise on mine.”

McCoy pulled out his device, a frown on his face and a sense of foreboding in his guts. He couldn’t reach the ship, either. And neither could Peterson, for that matter.

All eyes were on Hope, who was fully focused on tying her communicator into her linguistic tricorder, adjusting the dials this way and that.

“You know what you’re doing?” Kirk asked impatiently. For the third time. Being stranded on a more or less unexplored planet was one thing. Not knowing what was going on with his ship, quite another.

“I certainly do, Sir,” she replied, remarkably calm and not taking her eyes off the display.

Spock would be proud, McCoy thought distractedly.

“And I can tell you two things.”

“Go on!” The captain’s patience was wearing thin.

“Firstly, that the signal we’ve been following has increased enormously, and I can now confirm with absolute certainty that the message is nothing but gibberish.”

“And secondly?”

She hesitated a moment, as if afraid to say it out loud.

“Just tell us, Hope, for heaven’s sake!” Kirk was at the end of his tether.

“Right. The reason we can’t reach the Enterprise is not some interference or shield. The Enterprise is simply not there. She’s gone.”

There was a shocked silence as they all took in the full meaning of her words, McCoy unconsciously taking a step closer to Hope. She seemed incredibly calm.

“Are you sure?” the captain finally broke the silence, and Jenny couldn’t tell whether he was doubting her abilities or simply grasping at straws.

“Positive, Captain,” she replied quietly. “Scotty has taught me some tricks, but above all, I do have a degree in linguistics, of which communications is a rather big part.”

“Of course, you do,” Kirk put an appeasing hand on her shoulder.

Then he looked at McCoy and Peterson.

“There could be a million reasons, let’s not expect the worst. They could be under attack, or have left for an emergency.”

“Or a parallel universe,” McCoy threw in unhelpfully, earning a glare from the captain.

“There will be a perfectly plausible explanation. I’m sure Spock has everything under control. We just need to make sure we’re still here when they come back for us.”

Kirk, never one to lose heart, gave each of his three companions an encouraging look. There was no doubt in his mind that they’d make it out of there safely. They always did.

“Come on, everyone, let’s go find the source of this blasted signal. I have a strong feeling we’re going to get some answers there.”

Chapter 26

Jenny walked behind Peterson, following the narrow trail of his footsteps, her mind racing. Behind her, she could hear snippets of the murmured conversation Kirk had with McCoy, exchanging ideas, discussing the best course of action, drawing on each other’s experience. She’d never realised before, quite how well attuned the two men really were to each other. It was greatly reassuring and made her feel cautiously optimistic in their current situation.

The general atmosphere was tense, but not at all hopeless. Jenny was surprised at how calm she felt in the face of having been abandoned on a strange planet with three men. By rights, the thought should be terrifying, but strangely enough, she wasn’t afraid. Probably because it just didn’t feel real. Yet.

Besides, she was with Captain Kirk, the man who beat all the odds. Surely, he’d find a way out of this one, too. And they had Dr. McCoy. He’d take good care of them all.

She had a sudden vision of the four of them living together in Robinson fashion, makeshift huts, tools and weapons, living on fruits and berries. At least her companions were interesting, decent people with considerable knowledge between them, and lots of stories to tell. It could certainly be worse.

“What are you smiling at?” McCoy was suddenly at her side, gentle eyes searching her face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Doctor, I’m all right,” Jenny assured him, feeling like throwing herself in his arms and just staying there forever. “I just had this funny vision of us as savages in grass skirts, collecting roots and berries.”

“Now there’s a prospect,” he chuckled, winking at her.

Then he turned serious again, breaking his stride to put gentle hands on her shoulders and look her straight in the eye.

“You know it won’t come to that, right? Jim and I have been in lots of similar situations and always found our way back home. The Enterprise had a perfectly good reason to disappear, and she will be back. It’s happened before.”

Jenny nodded, touched by his need to comfort and reassure her, when he was surely at least a little scared, too, and found that she actually believed him.

Kirk waited for his friend to finish his little pep talk, before joining them.

“How far to the origin of the signal, Hope?”

“We’re really close, Captain,” Hope looked at her tricorder to check the readings. “Five kilometres as the crow flies.”

“Right, close enough,” the captain murmured pensively, then, feeling the expectant eyes of his crew on him, added, “I don’t know, something just doesn’t feel right. I mean, who would go to the trouble of setting up a signal that sends out nothing but gibberish?”

“A trap?” volunteered Peterson.

Kirk look at him, nodding slowly. “My thoughts exactly. But who? And why?”

“You mean, why would anyone lure us here, on an uninhabited planet of no interest?” McCoy wondered.

“Well, only one way to find out!” Kirk clapped his hands and got going again.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” McCoy sighed, following right behind the captain.

********************

They walked in silence for a while, closely watching their surroundings, ready to draw their weapons at the first sign of danger. As the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, it got harder to keep up their pace.

Fighting their way through the increasing storm, McCoy saw Hope being almost lifted off the ground with every gust, thrown back every other step. He hurried to her side and resolutely grabbed her by the hand, allowing no argument, and pulled her along. But this time, she didn’t even hesitate and, gratefully accepting his help, let him walk right in front of her to shelter her from the full impact of the storm.

Less than ten minutes later, the wind had ebbed away again.

“Thank God,” Hope laughed, shaking her hair out and trying to tame it back into a knot. “It’s even harder to walk, when you can’t see!”

Kirk watched the doctor staring at Hope for a moment, mesmerised, before pulling a little box from his medikit and handing her her eye medication.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she smiled, taking the box from him. “I was actually talking about the hair in my face, but I’d really appreciate a little of the medication right now. When we get to the source, I’ll want all my senses operating at full capacity.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” McCoy nodded, and as they walked on, tried to cautiously broach the subject of accepting help with her. “And I’m really proud of you, Hope, for letting me help you through the storm and not putting up a fight today.”

“I guess, I’m making progress, accepting that I’m not the perfect officer, then,” she snorted, visibly embarrassed.  

The doctor was just about to reply, when Kirk, having overheard the last of their conversation, beat him to it.

“There is no such thing as a perfect officer, Hope,” he said emphatically. “The important thing is to be part of a team. That means doing your best, of course, but it also includes accepting help from the others. Everybody has their weaknesses, and knowing each other’s makes a good team. Hiding your inefficiencies could put yourself and your team in danger, because, if the others don't realise you're in trouble and trust you to do what you're expected to do, they may not be able to compensate quickly enough."

Kirk and McCoy exchanged a quick glance, knowing only too well that both of them, just like Spock or Scotty, had more than once hidden their fears in order to save their friends' lives. But then, that was the difference between high ranking officers and young, less experienced crew members.

Hope lowered her head self-consciously, murmuring, "I'm sorry, Sir. I just didn't want to be a hindrance."

McCoy could see Hope feeling she’d been put firmly in her place, and shot Kirk an angry look.

"I’m sorry, I didn't mean this to sound reproachful,” the captain relented. “I actually wanted you to realise that you don't have to pretend to be stronger or better than you are. Just be yourself - you're perfectly all right. And you'll become even better with experience.”

Their conversation was cut short, when Peterson pointed out fast approaching rainclouds, and they ran for shelter under the branches of one of the smaller trees, just as the first raindrops fell.

“Let’s hope that’ll be over quickly, too!” Hope exclaimed, thinking that their snuggling up under that toadstool only yesterday seemed like ages ago.

There were no hailstones today, but the snow that followed was much heavier and covered everything within minutes, the ground underneath frozen and slippery, the temperature dropping uncomfortably.

Not wasting a single word on it, the little group huddled together for warmth, and as soon as they could see their hands in front of their faces again, continued on their way, hoping to get out of the cold again soon.

Less than one kilometre, Jenny thought as they made their way across the slippery ground, anticipation intermingling with dread.

And then, everything happened so fast.

An enormous, falling branch hit Peterson hard on the head, sending him crashing to his knees, before he suddenly vanished through a hole in the ground. He’d obviously stepped on a thin layer of ice covering some kind of lake or pond.

In a flash, Kirk threw himself after Peterson, but when the ice cracked under his weight, McCoy was just in time to pull him back, before the captain fell through the ice, too.

“I can do it!” Hope shouted, dropping to the ground, flat on her stomach, slowly and carefully crawling towards the edge of the hole. Now it was Kirk’s turn to pull back a frantic McCoy.

The captain and his CMO were holding their breath, as they watched Hope reach the edge and plunge her arms, and then her head into the ice-cold water looking for Peterson.

"Don’t worry, Bones, she's a tough one, she’s going to make it,” Kirk tried to calm down his friend as much as himself.

“She’s just pretending, she’s not that tough at all, and you know that very well!" McCoy muttered under his breath, holding on tight to Kirk’s arm in order to restrain himself from going after Hope, not taking his eyes off her for a second.

“Trust me. She wants to be a good officer, and being prepared to risk her life for others, certainly makes her one.”

Just when McCoy thought his heart couldn’t take the strain any longer, he saw Hope come back up for air, holding on to a red-sleeved arm, trying hard to pull an unconscious Peterson back onto the ice.

And for what he thought were the longest moments of his life, he watched her struggle and strive, and finally manage to pull the much bigger man out of the water and then drag him, excruciatingly slowly, back to safety.

Immediately dropping to his knees beside Peterson, the doctor looked at Kirk and indicated Hope with his head, trusting the captain to take care of the exhausted, shivering young woman.

“Thank you for saving Peterson’s life,” the captain said with heartfelt gratitude, as he used his sleeves to rub her hair dry and ran his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up. “I am awfully proud of you.”

When McCoy had cleaned and closed the gash in Peterson’s head and made sure there were no further injuries, especially to his spine, or internal bleeding, he quickly got up to check on Hope, his heart aching as he saw her standing there, so frail and delicate, shivering as the captain rapidly rubbed his hands up and down her arms and back.

Kirk let go of her, letting the doctor take over, and McCoy just had to pull her close for a moment, overwhelmed by the relief of seeing her unharmed.

“Silly girl! Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he murmured affectionately in her ear, and it sounded almost like a sob. “I’ve been worried sick. Next time you want to impress the captain, find something less dangerous to do, please!”

Hope, still trembling, looked up at him fondly, and he saw a familiar glint in her eye.

“All this just to prove to you that being underweight has its advantages, after all,” she chuckled.

McCoy shook his head, exasperated, and then, hearing her teeth clattering looked over at Kirk.

“We’ll have to get them to a warmer place, Jim. And quickly, if we want Peterson to even have a chance.”

So, carrying the still unconscious Peterson between them, Kirk and McCoy followed Hope, tricorder in hand, leading the way to the source of the signal.

Luckily, it had stopped snowing, but the temperature was still low, and not a hint of sun in the sky. Jenny was just wondering where to find a warm place, when she suddenly spotted a bunker in the midst of all the greenery.

“Look, Captain!” she called out, but her companions had already spotted the bunker, too.

“Damn! How did a man-made building end up here?” Kirk cursed, while McCoy headed straight for the entrance.

“Stop, Bones!” Kirk hissed. “We can’t just go in there! We have no idea how it got here, or who or what to expect in there!”

“I don’t care, Jim!” the doctor snapped back. “If we don’t get Peterson out of the cold this very instant, we’re going to lose him. And Hope needs to warm up soon, too, or whatever we’ll find or not find in there, won’t matter anymore.”

Jim could see the anguish in his friend’s eyes, and relented.

“All right, Bones. But at least let me go in first and secure the place.”

Bones nodded, shifting Peterson’s weight so that Kirk could step away, grateful for Hope instantly taking the captain’s place, and a minute later, they were inside the windowless building, grateful to be out of the icy wind.

Hope was sitting on the floor with Peterson’s head cradled in her lap, holding a flashlight while McCoy gave him a heavy sedative and ran his tricorder thoroughly over the security officer’s body. And Kirk searched the apparently empty room for any clues to what they were up against.

Chapter 27

On the Enterprise, Spock and Uhura were listening intently to Klingon communication channels, as they had done incessantly for the past five hours.

With the riddle of the mysterious signal still unsolved, Uhura hadn’t been able to sleep, and had been working all through the night, trying to determine the source or find a code that would finally give the message some meaning.

She hadn’t succeeded in either, but in the early morning hours had picked up on inter Klingon communications instead. Being quite the expert on decoding Klingon channels, she’d soon been able to listen in on more than just snippets, and, putting two and two together, had run to the bridge, where she was sure to find Spock.

The First Officer had listened attentively, as she’d told him that there was obviously a rumour about a new human super weapon going round the Klingon Empire. A human named Jennifer Hope, no less. Somehow word had got out that Hope, to whose Starfleet file there might or might not exist a sealed supplement, had been assigned to the Enterprise on what they mistakenly thought was a secret mission.

Always trying to stay ahead of the Federation, the Klingons had come up with a plan to not only get rid of Hope before she could become a danger to the Empire, but to get rid of the greatly feared and unpopular Captain Kirk at the same time.

Obviously, the Klingons knew about the dangers that the planet’s flora held, and counted on whoever was setting foot on the surface to be killed within the first couple of hours. Choosing a remote, insignificant planet and using a seemingly harmless linguistic mystery as bait to ensure Hope’s participation, had been a stroke of genius, Spock had to admit.

It was only when he heard that, apparently, a Klingon ship was currently on its way to check if the Enterprise was still in orbit, that he’d been galvanised into action.

With the transporters still down, there was no way of bringing the landing party back aboard safely in time. So, Spock decided on a bold move that would have made Kirk proud.

Not even risking to open a channel to inform the captain, he had Uhura break off all communication between them and the landing party, and Sulu warp out of orbit immediately, certain that this would trick the Klingons into believing they had everybody safely back aboard already. Surely, they wouldn’t assume the Enterprise left orbit without their captain, abandoning him on a remote and dangerous planet.

What Spock had failed to take into account, however, as he learned now, listening to the ongoing communications between the nearby Klingon ship and some Klingon base, was that they also had a plan B in place, in case the planet’s flora failed to do its part.

They seemed to have built some sort of trap around the source of their fabricated signal, armed with explosives that could be activated remotely.

As the last piece of information sank in, Uhura looked at Spock, aghast, but the First Officer was already having Chekov set course back to the planet, Warp 8, then reminded Scotty that his priority was to have the transporters fully functional on arrival, and finally ordered Sulu to get the Galileo ready as backup, just in case.

********************

Having found no clues whatsoever, unable to determine even what strange material the bunker was built from, Kirk went back to the door. Certain that the daily hour of winter should be over by now, he wanted to have a closer look around outside.

He soon found, however, that the door, which the storm had slammed shut right behind them, didn’t open from the inside. They were locked in. Quelling the rising panic in his chest at the realisation, he first tried to kick it open, then used his phaser on it. But the door wouldn’t budge.

Kirk tried to burn a hole through it, then through the wall and even through the ceiling with his phaser. To no avail, since the phaser didn’t have the slightest impact on the material, even though it seemed to be permeable to air. He could definitely feel a breeze coming through the walls. At least, they wouldn’t suffocate in here.

Wanting McCoy and Hope to focus on Peterson and not worry them even more, Kirk turned around with a confident smile on his face.

“Only a matter of time until I’ve figured this out,” he said more to himself than to the others, earning him a trusting look from Hope and a rather sceptical one from the doctor.

Having suffered a severe concussion, Peterson was fading in and out of consciousness, and McCoy kept a close watch on his readings, hoping to God that he wouldn’t have to do any kind of field surgery with nothing but his medikit at hand, and praying that the Enterprise would just pop up out of nowhere, providing him with all the comforts of his well-equipped sickbay. He even vowed to never, ever again complain about the shortcomings of the ship’s sickbay, if only he could be back there again.

Looking at Hope, who made every effort to make Peterson comfortable, stroking his face and softly singing to him, the doctor knew they just had to get back to the Enterprise. This extraordinary young woman deserved so much better than going missing on her first assignment. There was so much potential in her. The brilliance, the resourcefulness, the creativity, the kindness, the love, just couldn’t be lost to the world. Not like this. Not, when they didn’t even know the reason.

Jenny looked down at Peterson’s pale face. She hadn’t known him very well before this assignment. But they had talked quite a bit during their hike, and she’d found him to be a really bright guy with very high expectations in life. She knew him in the best of hands with Dr. McCoy, of course, quite sure that his life was not in danger any longer. But what would happen to him, if they didn’t get back to the Enterprise? What would happen to all of them? Would this be the end? She’d come such a long way. And just for this?

Kirk was still relentlessly examining the room, scanning and patting down every inch of the walls, floor and ceiling to find some way to escape. He was worried about Peterson. About Hope and McCoy, too. But what was really driving him mad was the uncertainty of his ship’s fate. Where had they gone? Why hadn’t they informed him? Were they even still alive?

Feeling completely helpless, he kicked the floor hard in frustration, and suddenly heard the faintest echo, a sign that there was a hollow space underneath where he stood. Getting down on his knees, he groped around, hoping his fingers would find some sort of gap or crack, any proof that there was a door, an opening. When he didn’t have any luck, he tried his phaser again, and was immensely relieved, when he managed to burn a hole, and finally a bigger opening in the floor, revealing what seemed to be a narrow air shaft leading under the wall and outside or into another room.

McCoy was sitting on the floor next to Hope, her head resting on his shoulder, exhaustion finally having got the better of her, when Kirk gave them the good news. The captain had cleared the opening to an air shaft, which was, unfortunately, too narrow for him to squeeze through. Now he was searching their equipment for anything he could attach his tricorder to, in order to find out where the tunnel was leading.

“I could try,” Hope offered, suddenly wide awake again. “Maybe I can fit through?”

“Certainly not!” McCoy was appalled. “One heroic deed per day is definitely enough. We have no idea where this tunnel leads, how long it is, or what awaits on the other side.”

“Would you rather stay locked up in here?” Hope asked softly, then turned to Kirk, who didn’t look very happy with the idea, either.

“Please, Captain, let me try. I really want to get out of this place.”

Kirk nodded slowly, shrugging apologetically at McCoy.

“Sorry, Bones, but Hope is right. We can’t just sit around here, doing nothing.”

Jenny got up, gently turning Peterson over to McCoy, glad for the chance to stretch her tingling legs. But before she could follow the captain to the air shaft, the doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her back down towards him.

“Be safe!” he whispered, and she saw his eyes well up as he looked at her imploringly, his other hand softly caressing her hair and her face.

Just two little words, but seeing how much he cared gave her the courage she needed.

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” she smiled at him reassuringly. “I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

And surprising herself, she gave him an impulsive peck on the cheek, before turning away again, the ghost of his stubble still lingering on her lips as she squeezed through the narrow opening and slowly crawled through the tunnel, fighting the slightly claustrophobic feeling.

Gazing after her, McCoy distractedly touched his cheek, where Hope’s lips had just brushed it. Letting go of her hand had been a real physical challenge. He needed her here, safely by his side, where he could protect her. He would certainly never forgive himself, or Jim for that matter, if something happened to her now.

And what a great job of protecting her you’ve done so far, Leonard! he thought sadly, the image of Hope almost being pulled into the water after Peterson still fresh in his mind.

Was he proud of her? Of course, he was! She was awesome. But the thought of something happening to her was simply unbearable.

Their cosy evening chats over coffee seemed like ages ago, and he’d give anything to see her dance with Chekov or sing with Uhura again. The thought struck him that Jim nearly hadn’t let him come on this mission, and he was filled with a sudden sense of gratitude, to fate, or whoever else had changed the captain’s mind at the last minute.

********************

Hardly able to move in the narrow tunnel, Jenny was making slow progress, Kirk’s encouraging words the only thing to keep her from panicking. Luckily, the air shaft was just connecting the room they’d been in to another, smaller one behind the wall, and once she’d managed to push open the flap at the other end, and crawled out, she could breathe easy again.

Even though she knew he couldn’t come to her rescue, should she need help, she was glad that the captain was still within earshot, feeling less alone talking to him directly than on the communicator.

Taking in the small room, that was just as empty as the other one, the only thing that stood out was a sort of small device or computer, wires all over, leading in all directions, reminding her a little of the bombs found in almost every classic spy movie.

She froze.

“What is it, Hope?” Kirks concerned voice sounded from the air shaft.

“I think it’s some kind of explosive device, Captain,” she tried to report as calmly as possible.

There was a short silence, then Kirk asked, “Anything specific? Anything you can find out about its origin or how it works?”

Jenny circled the device slowly, careful not to touch it, and started to give a running commentary as she moved along.

“It doesn’t seem to be activated,” she observed, listening closely. “No lights, no noise, not even a hum. And it appears to be rather new. Very clean, anyway.”

Then she saw it, the tiniest plate, almost hidden by a bunch of wires. Angling the flashlight so she could see what was written on the plate, she gasped.

“Captain,” she swallowed hard, “it’s Klingon.”

“All right,” Kirk replied after a moment. “Save everything to your tricorder, and come back now.”

Jenny didn’t have to be told twice, even though she shuddered at the thought of having to crawl through that tunnel again, and made her way back in record time.

The first thing she saw, after the captain had pulled her out, were McCoy’s eyes lighting up, the immense relief written in his face, just like the worry had been earlier, and she felt his affection enwrapping her like a soft, warm blanket.

Just as Kirk started to wonder out loud, what in heaven’s name the Klingons had to do with anything, his communicator started to beep.

They all just stared at it in disbelief for a second, before the captain flipped it open and Spock’s beautiful voice filled the room.

Not even listening to what he was saying, Jenny first flung her arms around Kirk’s neck, squeezing him tight in a brief hug, then skipped over to where McCoy was sitting, and dropping to her knees, hugged him so tightly, he could hardly breathe.

Hugging her back and laughing with her, McCoy wanted nothing more than to hold her and never let go. But the doctor in him, of course, knew that Peterson had to be his priority right now. So, when Spock told them that two of the transporters were fully functional again, and asked them to return to the Enterprise immediately, he was more than happy to have Scotty beam him and a half-conscious Peterson up.

His happiness was brought to a sudden end, when the Chief Engineer cursed loudly on their arrival, and he could hear Spock tell the captain that, unfortunately, the transporter had just broken down again.

Feeling like the rug had been pulled from under his feet, McCoy had to draw on every ounce of professionalism he had, to stay focused on Peterson’s treatment, while his heart was filled with dismay at having left Hope behind.

Chapter 28

Hurrying along as Peterson was rushed to sickbay, McCoy felt sick to his stomach, his loathing of transporters at an all-time high. And as soon as the security officer was settled safely in sickbay and could be entrusted into Chapel’s care, the doctor left for the bridge to find out what was happening.

He arrived just in time to hear Spock tell the captain that it was imperative for him and Hope to either find a way to get out of that bunker, or defuse the device. Either way, they needed to hurry, since the Klingon ship was estimated to reach orbit in 1.8 hours.

Exchanging worried glances with Uhura, the doctor listened tensely, as Kirk discussed this with Hope and, for lack of escape routes, agreed to her going back through the air-shaft once more, in order to try and defuse the bomb.

“Are you insane?” McCoy exploded. “Hope is not a bomb disposal expert!”

Spock turned around and calmly looked at the doctor.

“I will guide her through every step, of course,” he said, then added almost as an afterthought, “Mr. Sulu is taking the Galileo to pick up Captain Kirk and Dr. Hope, Doctor. He is leaving in 7.3 minutes. I recommend you accompany him.”

McCoy didn’t care whether it was just to get him off the bridge, or because Spock thought his medical services might actually be needed. He gratefully grabbed the chance to have a part in getting the two of them home. And as he hurriedly left for the shuttle bay, picking up his medikit on the way, he was pretty convinced to have seen concern in the otherwise impassive Vulcan face, too.

With McCoy out of the way, Spock returned his full attention to Kirk and the matter at hand. He had to shield himself more than usual from the overflowing emotions of the bridge crew, sensing extreme distress, especially coming from Uhura and Chekov, his sensitivity probably heightened by his own burgeoning reservations.

Chekov was almost frozen with fear, working hard to keep his mind on his duties as navigator, while listening to Spock first talking to the captain, then to Jenny. He’d seen the terror in McCoy’s face, and although he didn’t have a clear picture of what had happened on the planet yet, he knew that Peterson had returned severely wounded, and that Jenny and Kirk were in immediate danger.

Jenny, his kind and sweet Jenny, having to defuse a bomb. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Hanging on every word that was exchanged between Spock and the two remaining members of the landing party, he could hear Kirk and Jenny having another hushed discussion about whether she should really take the risk, and pictured his brave friend singlehandedly disarming an unknown Klingon weapon.

********************

In the bunker, Kirk tried to stay calm, wanting to radiate nothing but confidence, as he gently rested his hands on Hope’s shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes.

“Be careful, Hope,” he said softly, “You’ve proven yourself an impressive Starfleet officer these past two days. I couldn’t be prouder. And I have complete faith in you getting us out of here.”

Hope smiled up at him, touched by his praise and faith in her.

“I can do this, Captain,” she said in a steady voice, then turned around determinedly and slid into the tunnel.

Kirk stared after her, wishing it would be him rather than her, facing the danger behind the wall, and trying not to think about what McCoy must be going through right now. Knowing him, the poor doctor was certainly overcome with guilt at having left his friends behind.

When Hope had reached the other side, Spock had her carefully check the whole room for any other way to escape, wanting to leave the defusing of the bomb as their last resort. But when she was positive that there was no other exit, he knew there could be no further delay.

Before he let her touch any of the wires, however, Kirk heard Spock go through a couple of meditation exercises with Hope. They’d obviously done these exercises before, and Kirk was touched by his first officer’s thoughtfulness.

After taking one last deep breath, Hope started on her task. With Spock monitoring her every move via tricorder, she followed his directions to the letter, untangling, bending and cutting wires with the nimble fingers of a keyboard player. Even so, it took her longer than Spock had calculated, and if he’d been prone to nervousness, he might certainly have begun to feel that way.

Hope was so focused on her task, that she’d almost failed to notice a rectangular shape in the far wall starting to glow, then open like a door. It was only the sudden cool breeze that made her look up in surprise.

“Take your hands slowly off the wires,” she heard Spock say, audibly struggling to stay calm. “Get out at once, see if you can free the captain, and then run as fast and as far as you can. It appears the Klingons have joined us and are now activating their device.”

Fighting the urge to simply freak out and be done with it, Jenny grabbed her tricorder and sprinted through the opening. She ran around the building to the door through which they’d initially entered, and found it opening easily.

The captain was out in a flash, momentarily squinting against the sun as he mouthed a quick ‘Thank you’, then, breaking into a run, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along.

They were less than a minute away, when they heard, and felt, the explosion behind them, throwing them to the ground. Scrambling to his feet as fast as he could, Kirk pulled Hope up with him and told her to just keep running.

The explosion had started a fire that seemed to be spreading extremely fast, setting off a number of smaller explosions all around the area. Not breaking his stride, Kirk pulled out his communicator.

“Spock! We got away, but we need to keep moving,” he panted. “The fire’s spreading fast. Any chance for a beam-up?”

“I’m sorry, no, Sir,” came the instant reply, and the captain could clearly hear the relief of knowing they made it out in Spock’s voice. “But Mr. Sulu and Dr. McCoy have taken the Galileo and are already close. They are scheduled to land in 20 minutes. Keep going in this direction, I’ll give them your coordinates.”

Looking back and seeing the flames and smoke approaching fast, Kirk shouted at Hope to pick up speed. He could see she was doing her best already, but he feared it was just not good enough. Then, distracted only for a second by the crackling flames gaining on them, she tripped and fell, her boot stuck under a root, and the captain could see her leg twisted at an awkward angle.

He hurried to her side, trying to help her up, but her agonised cry as she fell back to the ground told him that she was badly hurt. Not thinking twice, he removed her leg from under the root, trying not to look at her tear streaked face, scrunched up in pain, as he did so. Then he hoisted her inelegantly over his shoulder and set off running again.

Kirk tried to ignore the burning ache in his chest, focusing on keeping ahead of the flames, but after a few minutes, he had to stop and set her down for a moment. Hope was certainly anything but heavy, but still quite a weight to carry, if you were running for your life.

Seeing that the captain had reached his limits, Jenny pleaded with him to continue without her.

Maybe this was it, she thought, maybe she’d beaten death once too often.

“Please, go, Captain!” she cried. “I’m just slowing you down. You need to get back to the Enterprise!”

Shaking his head vehemently, Kirk bent down to pick her up again, and she realised that he was never going to just leave her there. So she did the only thing she could do. She reached for his hand to pull herself up, and started to hobble as best she could, fear and shock pushing her beyond her limits.

Drawing on everything she’d ever learned from Spock regarding self-control, she managed to convince the captain that she was good to run on her own again. And whispering Dr. McCoy’s name like a mantra, visualising his kind face as he treated her injured leg, she somehow made her way to the shuttle, not quite sure if the Sulu and McCoy she saw there were real or just figments of her imagination.

********************

When Spock informed Sulu and McCoy about the circumstances of Kirk and Hope’s escape, McCoy nearly had a heart-attack, not knowing if he was dying from fright or relief.

“My God, I should never have left without them!” he lamented, not even listening to Spock pointing out that his wish was illogical, since he couldn’t have helped them, anyway.

Sulu landed the Galileo at the coordinates the First Officer had given them, and McCoy could have cried with happiness, when he spotted Kirk and Hope come racing towards the shuttle.

Panting heavily, her face twisted in pain, Hope looked at him strangely as she reached for his outstretched hand and let him pull her up into the shuttle. The moment she was inside, she fell into his arms and promptly passed out, taking him completely by surprise, once again.

Cradling her limp form in his arms, he carried her further inside, throwing Kirk a questioning glance over his shoulder. The captain, who’d been hauled in by Sulu right behind Hope, shouted, “It’s her right leg, Bones,” then joined Sulu in the cockpit for immediate take-off.

McCoy eased her gently into a seat, reclining it as far as it would go. He was about to give her a stimulant to wake her up, but thought better of it and carefully pried the boot off her right leg. What he saw there made him wince. This ankle was not just broken but shattered. He switched the hypo from stimulant to heavy sedative and got to work immediately. Beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he concentrated on his bone knitter, his mood alternated between rage with Jim, admiration for Hope‘s toughness and frustration with her silly recklessness. As soon as the shuttle was safely on its way, Kirk left Sulu to it and joined McCoy at the back of the shuttle where the doctor was working on a still unconscious Hope’s ankle, muttering under his breath, a fierce look on his face.

When the captain approached, McCoy turned on him with accusing eyes.

“What happened, Jim?” he ranted. “How could you let her run on a broken ankle? How did she even manage to? No wonder she passed out from the pain. I can’t even begin to imagine how much it must have hurt.”

Kirk felt terrible, even without McCoy shouting at him. He should have realised the pain she was in. He should have insisted on carrying her.

“I did carry her for quite a bit,” he tried to explain quietly. “But we were going too slow, and she convinced me that she was all right running on her own, again. I’m not a doctor, Bones, and we’d probably both have died in the flames. You can’t outrun fire carrying someone even as light as Hope.”

“But you can, of course, run on a shattered ankle,” the doctor grumbled surlily, relenting a little when he saw Jim tenderly brush Hope’s hair from her face, looking genuinely remorseful.

When Jenny came to, she felt two things: pain and gentle hands combing through her hair and squeezing her shoulder. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see the captain’s worried face smiling down on her instead of the doctor’s.

“I‘m so sorry, Hope,” he said guiltily, “if I’d known how seriously injured you were, I’d never have allowed you to run.”

“There was no other way, Captain,” she whispered, her voice still hoarse from the smoke. “You wouldn’t have left me behind, and we’d both be dead now.”

Then she swallowed hard, worried, as Kirk’s words about her being seriously injured sank in.

“How serious are my injuries, anyway?” she asked hesitantly.

But the captain didn’t get a chance to answer, as a familiar grumpy voice told him to stop worrying his patient, and a disgruntled McCoy shoved him out of the way. Kirk’s friendly face was replaced by the reassuringly disapproving one of Dr. McCoy, who promptly started to rant at her.

“How could you do this to yourself? Torturing your ankle like that? Don’t you know there’s a reason why we feel pain? To stop us from hurting ourselves even more when we’re already injured? And with your bone material, too! You really should have known better!”

Jenny closed her eyes and let his words wash over her, taking comfort in the knowledge that the doctor would never rant at a patient like that, if it were really serious. He was just venting, pouring out all the pent-up fears and worries she’d caused him.

When he was done, she opened her eyes again, smiling up at him apologetically.

“You fixed my ankle, I take it?”

“Well,” he admitted grudgingly, “it took all of my surgical skills and then some, and we’ll still have to make improvements when we get to sickbay, but basically, yes, your ankle will be fine.”

“With time,” he added after a moment, emphasising those last two words.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she smiled fondly, feeling wonderfully cared for and happy despite the pain.

McCoy sat down in the seat next to her and studied her face for a minute.

“Torturing your ankle like that!” he frowned, shaking his head. “Has it never occurred to you that I might not be able to fix it?”

Jenny pretended to think for a second or two, then grinned widely at him.

“No, Doctor, it hasn’t.”

“You’re as bad as Jim,” he grumbled, sighing exaggeratedly, his eyes betraying the strong affection he felt for both her and the captain.

Chapter 29

When they’d transferred Hope from the shuttle to sickbay, and he was finally satisfied with his work on her ankle, McCoy gave her a stronger sedative to ease the pain and let her rest.

Thank god for biobeds, he thought, as she kept trying to play down the pain that was so clearly visible from the readings above her head.

Watching her features slowly relax as the sedative took effect, he thought what an admirable, brave young woman she was. Trying to imagine what pain running all the way to the Galileo must have caused her, made him shudder. It had certainly done some major damage to her nerves and sinews and given him and his bone knitter a run for their credits.

He was relieved to see Hope slipping further into restful drowsiness, her eyes becoming more unfocused, and her breathing slowing down.

“So lucky, living on borrowed time,” she mumbled sleepily.

Or at least that’s what he heard.

“Sorry, what was that, my dear?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

But she’d already dozed off.

Shaking his head fondly, he gently brushed a strand of sweaty, sooty hair from her forehead. She’d want to clean up properly, when she woke up again. And so might he, for that matter. With everything going on, he hadn’t had a minute to shower or change since he’d beamed up with Peterson. He’d do that as soon as he was sure that Hope was fast asleep and would be for some time.

Feeling a wave of affection washing over him, he let his hand linger a little on her cheek, smiling when she nestled comfortably into his touch.

“Sleep tight, love,” he whispered softly.

And just as he turned to leave, she murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, “Love you, too!”

So typically Hope. So sweet, it put a wide grin on his face while his heart skipped a beat. He was just glad no one else was close enough to overhear. He’d never hear the end of it, and she’d be mortified if she ever found out what she’d just said in her sleep.

Unable to leave her side just yet, McCoy sat down on the edge of her bed, tenderly caressing her face. But this time, she didn’t lean into his touch. She was truly out cold. And suddenly he realised that he missed it. That he wanted it, needed it, her response to his touch.

Uh oh, he thought, pulling his hand away quickly, tread carefully there, Leonard, there’s a very fine line between caring for a patient, a friend even, and ... this, whatever this is. But you definitely don’t want to cross that line.

He left sickbay without another glance at Hope, trying to think of anything but her. But, of course, every other thought was soon replaced again by the image of her trusting face and the memory of her small form snuggled so unreservedly into his arms as he carried her out of the shuttle.

********************

Jenny woke up to a bustling crowd around her bed, making her smile even before she was quite awake. There were Uhura and Chekov, and the guys from the band, all chatting animatedly, obviously having a good time.

Somewhere further away, she could hear McCoy grumbling.

“This is still sickbay!” he blustered. “If you lot can’t behave, I’ll have you removed!”

Everyone just laughed, confident that he wouldn’t do so, and Jenny couldn’t help joining in.

Hearing her chuckle, there was a collective intake of breath as all eyes turned on her. Jenny was overwhelmed by all the affection she felt coming her way.

Uhura was the first to spring into action. Bending down to press a smacking kiss on her cheek and envelop her in a bear hug, she squeezed her so tightly that Jenny let out a squeak.

“Oh don’t be a wuss!” Uhura laughed, “I’m nowhere near your leg, and there’s nothing else wrong with you, is there?”

Chekov was next. Unlike Uhura, he bent down carefully, pecking her lightly on the cheek, treating her as if she were made of glass, and Jenny couldn’t resist reaching up to tousle his full shock of hair.

“Missed me?” she asked no one in particular.

“You scared the shit out of us, Jen!” Ben, their lead guitarist blurted out, earning a withering look from Uhura.

“Don’t mind him, love,” she turned back to Jenny. “Maybe when he grows up, he’ll remember his manners.”

Jenny looked around. She’d missed that. The easy banter with her friends. Even though she’d only been gone for a couple of days.

A big, grateful smile spread across her face as she realised that she’d found a new home, a new family on the Enterprise. And when she spotted McCoy through the doorway and their eyes met, she had a feeling he might just have thought the same thing.

********************

McCoy enjoyed having her in sickbay, where he could keep a close eye on her, immensely. After the recent events, he felt he deserved a break from the constant worrying. And seeing her happily surrounded by her friends warmed his heart. Exactly what she needed. Although, being as popular as she was, the constant stream of visitors never stopped, and he had to intervene sometimes. She was still on painkillers and needed to rest.

Jenny was amazed by how many people came to see her, enjoying the visits that made her days confined to bed seem to go faster. But lovely as everyone was, sometimes she just wanted to sleep and was grateful that McCoy turned her visitors away, when it got too much for her. He knew that she didn’t have the heart to do it herself. One of the many little things he did for her, she thought affectionately.

Thinking of McCoy made her smile. He seemed to spend even more time than usual in sickbay now, which she’d noticed with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. He had no idea, of course, how much his care meant to her. And sometimes, she felt sorry for him being such a worrywart, since he was never able to relax. But knowing that he cared so much, that he was always looking out for her, filled her with a blissful sense of security, she’d never dreamed of finding.  

Like right now, late into Beta shift, when she saw him coming in, carrying two mugs of coffee. Having decided that sickbay was as good a place as any to have coffee, the doctor had suggested they resume their evening routine, and Jenny enjoyed the continuation of their cosy chats immensely.

Setting the mugs down on her bedside table, he searched her face in this kind but earnest way that was so typical of him, while gently helping her to a comfortable position.

“Beetroot on your mind?” he asked softly, his face full of compassion.

“How did you know?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

The doctor just smiled.

“I’m a mind reader.”

“Sure,” Jenny laughed, feeling a little uneasy. But maybe that was exactly what he wanted. He was a pretty good psychologist. She knew that he would bring up her ‘troubles’ again, too, sometime, and just hoped that it would be later rather than sooner.

“Maybe you’re not as unfathomable as you think you are,” he went on, his twinkling eyes never leaving her face. “I’ve known you for a while now, Hope. And just as I can see when you’re in pain, I can see when something is bothering you. You’re usually such a cheerful person, it’s not difficult to spot the difference when you’re not.”

“Can’t fool you, can I?” she asked, hoping to sound flirtatious rather than worried.

McCoy just tilted his head a little to the side and shrugged.

Damn, if he didn’t know how to coax someone into opening up.

Chapter 30

Hope’s ankle was healing very slowly, which she bore with poorly concealed impatience, but which was to be expected, as McCoy kept reminding her, considering her bone structure.

At least Hope never lacked entertainment, as visitors kept coming and going at all times. Some coming just to keep her company, others coming for a talk with the ‘agony aunt‘, as the doctor often affectionately called her. They kept her busy, and she obviously didn’t mind. And neither did he, as long as she got enough rest as well.

“You’re certainly my most popular patient,” McCoy smiled, pleased to see her returning to her happy, untroubled self a little more with every day.

“How can you even walk on those tiny feet of yours?” the doctor joked, standing at the foot of her bed, gently checking her ankle and watching her face intently for signs of pain as he carefully tilted her foot this way and that.

Then he put on a stern face, and Jenny knew she was in for another lecture.

“You’ll want to be more careful in the future, my dear. If you torture your ankle like that again, next time, I might not be able to fix it,” he grumbled good-naturedly, then added with a wry grin,” At least your nail polish hardly got scratched.”

“Thank God for small mercies!” Jenny laughed, McCoy’s sense of humour never failing to cheer her up, and thinking how much she enjoyed the delicate touch of his hands on her foot.

********************

Hope’s next visitor was a very subdued Scotty, gingerly slinking into her room, then, after the slightest hesitation, surprising her with a brief but very tight hug.

“Ach, lassie,” he sighed, “I’m so sorry I put you through all of this! I’d have come to see you sooner, too, but that bloody excuse for a transporter just wouldn’t give me a break.”

“Don’t apologise, Scotty,” Hope smiled at the dismayed man. “It’s hardly your fault! You did everything you could. You always do.”

Shrugging helplessly, Scotty smiled at her apologetically.

“If there ever was a time for me to pull off a miracle, it would surely have been when the Enterprise’s queen of hearts was in danger.”

“Enough already!” Hope laughed, blushing a little and slapping Scotty’s arm playfully.

“Seriously, lassie,” the chief engineer went on, “I was dying a little every time I had to give you lot the bad news of yet another problem with the transporter. Turns out Spock’s blasted rock left little souvenirs all over the ship when it exploded. You never know where the next one will pop up. Spock and my lads are still trying to figure it all out.”

“I won’t keep you long, then, Scotty,” Hope smiled, sensing his restlessness. “Thanks for coming by! Now get back to your lads. I feel a lot safer knowing that you’re taking care of the ship.”

*********************

“How’s my favourite human super weapon?” Uhura bounced on the edge of Jenny’s bed.

“Almost as good as new,” Jenny beamed at her bubbly friend, chuckling at yet another one of the strange terms of endearment Uhura always came up with. “The doctor says, I can go back to my quarters by the end of next week.”

Uhura didn’t miss a certain lack of enthusiasm at the prospect, questioning, not for the first time, Jenny’s true feelings for McCoy. But right now, there was a more pressing mystery on her mind.

“Sounds great, sugar! And now I want to know everything about the real Jennifer Hope.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny frowned, not sure where this was going.  

“No need to be coy, darling, this is just between us,” Uhura assured her with a conspiratorial wink. “That’s why I didn’t bring any of the gang! You can tell me, I’m your friend, and I’m just dying to know!”

“Know what exactly?” Jenny was getting really confused and a little worried now.

“About you being a human super weapon, silly!” Uhura exclaimed, getting impatient.  

“A what? I thought this was just another of your weird nicknames for me.”

“You mean you don’t have a secret sealed Starfleet file?”

“What? You tell me, since you seem to know so much about me, anyway! Or ask Starfleet, I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you out.”

Jenny was getting a little annoyed now. She knew and adored Uhura’s nosiness, but this was starting to sound like an interrogation.

“So, you’re saying the Klingons have no reason to believe you’re this super weapon?”

“The Klingons?” This was getting really peculiar now. “Why would the Klingons think that?”

“Well, it’s why they tried to kill you and the captain in the first place!”

Jenny was shocked.

“This was about me? What are you even saying, Nyota?”

“They thought you were here on a secret mission,” Uhura admitted, realising that no one had obviously bothered to fill Jenny in on the details, and beginning to wonder if she might be barking up the wrong tree. She was certainly sorry for having upset her friend.

Jenny had to laugh at the very idea of a secret mission.

“Nyota, I’m far from being a human super anything!” she assured Uhura. “Starfleet agreed to give me a chance to serve on a starship despite my handicaps. And Captain Kirk is the one to make the final decision after my trial period on the Enterprise is over. Maybe that’s not something I like to advertise, but it’s certainly not a secret mission!”

Before Uhura got the chance to say anything else, McCoy came barging into the room, shooing the communications officer away under some medical pretext. The two women had been talking loudly enough for him to hear in the next room, and he couldn’t listen to Hope being badgered another minute. Her referring to her medical issues as handicaps had especially upset him. After all she’d achieved on her first mission with a landing party, they hardly seemed to matter at all. She should be so proud of herself!

He hadn’t forgotten about Hope’s other issues, of course, and he still wanted to find out everything about her. But not Uhura’s way. Not by interrogating her like this. That would only serve to make her clam up again.  

Besides, Hope needed to come to terms with the beetroot incident first. Helping her with that had to take precedence over everything else. He certainly didn’t want to lose her trust by excessive prying.

********************

Jenny was getting fed up with having to ask for help for every little thing. So, when Chekov came to see her the next time, and knowing that he wouldn’t refuse her any request, she talked him into helping her get up to try how far she could walk on her own.

Not very far, as it turned out when she went crashing to the floor after only her second step, with Chekov barely able to catch her in time, and McCoy coming running at the noise.

The doctor stood there, hands on hips, his face thunderous, as he watched Chekov clumsily lifting Hope back into bed.

“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” he roared, picking up a tricorder and hurrying to her side to scan her ankle.

Jenny had rarely seen the doctor so furious, feeling really bad about having caused this. She looked sheepishly at Pavel, who’d turned a deep shade of red at McCoy’s outburst, quite obviously intimidated.

When the doctor had finished his scan with an angry grunt, he turned on Chekov, eyes blazing.

“And you, young man,” he told the navigator in his best no-nonsense voice, “don’t give her any more stupid ideas! She doesn’t even wiggle a toe without my say-so!”

Jenny’s heart went out to Chekov, when she saw him visibly shrink in the face of the doctor’s wrath. She’d have to make this up to him somehow.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor!” she tried to sooth McCoy’s anger. “It was my idea, not Chekov’s. And I promise to be a model patient from now on!”

How could he stay angry with her, when she looked at him with those puppy eyes?

Heaving a sigh, he made for the door, and with another grunt and a glare over his shoulder, told them, “Chekov, out! And Hope, you’ll need to rest for a while now, but I might just give you the sedative after I’ve fixed the damage you’ve just inflicted on your ankle. Some people need to be taught a lesson.”

Returning a minute later, hypo in hand, he let Hope worry for another moment, before smiling mildly at her.

“You didn’t really think I’d be so cruel?” McCoy asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Hope just shrugged, looking a little doubtful.

“Lesson learned?” he asked, grinning at his clearly remorseful patient.

“Yes, Doctor,” Hope nodded eagerly, then added with the most heart-warming smile, “and I’m really sorry. This was terribly stupid of me.”

And just like that, McCoy’s anger was gone.

********************

Even with the sedative he’d given her, Hope was in enough pain when McCoy was done with her ankle for him to give her another, stronger dose for the night. It would make her drowsy and a little woozy, but also help her find much needed restful sleep.

When she’d stopped fidgeting and started drifting off, he perched on the edge of her bed and couldn’t resist caressing her cheek soothingly, smiling as he felt her snuggle into his hand, as he’d thought she would. In her dazed state, she didn’t even try to hide how comfortable it made her feel.

She was such an incredibly strong woman, he thought, and yet, looking at her lying here, she was just a little girl in need of security and protection.

When he thought she’d finally dozed off, she opened her eyes again and sleepily murmured, “Thank you, Doctor, for always taking care of me. I haven’t had that before.”

“Oh, I find that hard to believe,” he replied softly, continuing to gently run his thumb over her cheek, and thinking that most everybody would gladly take care of a lovely and brilliant girl like her.

“How can I ever repay your kindness?” she asked quietly, lifting blurry eyes to his, her words slow and a little slurred under the effect of the sedative.

McCoy’s chest tightened a little at that.

“Why would you even think you’d have to repay anything?” he asked, hoping that it had just been her clouded mind speaking and instinctively cradling her head protectively in his hand. “We care about each other here on the Enterprise. You of all people should know that. And you surely have shown enough kindness of your own since you came aboard.”

“I haven’t had that before,” she repeated drowsily before finally succumbing to sleep.

McCoy regarded her sleeping face thoughtfully, his hand continuing to caress her of its own accord, his heart breaking at the thought that she might really be so unaccustomed to being cared for.

How could a warm and beautiful woman, who everybody adored, have felt so alone?

********************

Continue to: Chapters 31 - 40 Chapters 41 - 50 Chapter 51 - 61

Go back to: Chapters 1 - 10 Chapters 11 - 20

Or read it on AO3: On Borrowed Time 

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

[helmifadlilah]

New Post has been published on CV. AKURASI MISI SURVEY

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