Out of his shell

What if they never served on the same ship and never became the legendary crew Star Fleet regarded? What if they all met at a nursing home? What if it Spock was in a shell of his own? Much like Jim would be. And all it took was McCoy to be there to tow them both out as much as he will regret it. Inspired by Jim Carrey's second parody of Star Trek in living color.

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James T. Kirk's autobiography was published, and released through the quadrant. Including through the Bajoran wormhole to the gamma Quadrant. The Delta Quadrant was in the beginning of being mapped out in the areas that The Voyager had not gone on its return home. Specifically the beginning of the Delta Quadrant. The novel was released under the title "Jim Kirk,Admiral Kirk." It was a relative of Jim that pressured the publisher to publish it. All the stories that were never told to them of how back in the day it was from his perspective of events.

Byanne had recently acquired it on her padd and was eager to return to it. The novel was split into various books. Within the book Many, many, many books as originally planned. They were stylized episodic like. They concerned different parts of his life. Childhood, teenage life, adulthood, and the last novel regarded his novelty toward being a elderly. How surreal it was when he realized it after so long. The transition was carried by describing a mind meld. There were many stories he had to tell of his original crew. All that he could get out. Uhura had help to translate the novel into Swahilli as she wasn't that fast as she was. Regardless, it was well crafted. The later translations would require volunteers. There was only English and Swahilli for now.

"Captain," Byanne said. "If we help them. . . we are going to make ourselves not a cargo pirate ship but a passenger ship."

"We are not that." Smart said.

"This ship is too small to be a passenger ship," Marek commented. "We're lucky she can hold four hundred twenty-nine people." Marek sighed. "I love the girl but . . . Her engines wearing out, captain. We're going to need a new engineering room installed."

"And we don't want to be back stabbed like we were last time." Byanne said.

"Last time we made a Vulcan get posioned and die with a disease that he shouldn't have." S'chess said it. "He was old . . . but I do not think he would have wasted that early." He cleared his throat. "We have two . . . but very. . . difficult decisions to make." S'Chess leaned back. "I honestly thought that Captain Stellar knew what she was doing."

"You were her first officer." Smart said.

"That passenger was my adopted brother." S'Chess said. "How could I not trust him?" S'chess sighed. "When he betrayed me. . . he betrayed our family." He turned his head away looking down toward his hands clasped into a grasp on the table. "And my crew." He looked over toward Chief Security Officer Green. "Mr Green?"

"Doctor McCoy's files indicates he is a worth able threat when threatened," Green said, slightly tilting his head as if finding it curious. "But in person, as I have seen, indicates it would be unexpected to find oneself pinned down by him to the ground."

"Threat level for the ship?" S'Chess inquired.

"None," Green said. "But I advise you not provoke him. He is human."

"Miss Cidel." S'Chess said.

Cidel, the male Deltan, looked up from the padd.

"Sir?" Cidel signed.

"Has he used the padds on this ship to contact anyone outside?" Green asked.

"Negative,sir." Cidel signed back. "Except he had activity on a unregistered padd regarding photographs earlier."

S'Chess looked over toward Smart.

"What do you think about the Ambassador's condition, doctor?" S'Chess said.

"Ambassador Spock is half Vulcan," Smart said. "Every hybrid goes down differently. I can't say for sure if he could die by a heart attack or a stroke, they are unpredictable, or going down blind randomly."

"Doctor," Marek said. "He is Sarek's son. The Vulcans likely made sure that never happened."

"Sure they did," Smart said, with a grumble. "You can't just mess with mother nature. She'll pinn you down, terrify you, and then deliver the killing blow as she eats your organs first." Marek could feel chills going down his skin. There was dead silence in the room. "A long, sharp tooth being lost in the skin. Ziz-zagged scars on the chest. Feeling pain as they munch on you. Lhying helplessly on the ground. Bones being chewed upon. . ."

"Doctor!" Marek said, horrified. "We are not talking about dinosaurs!"

"A wise man once said, "Life will find a way". I am sorry but Vulcans should not meddle in a hybrids fetus." Smart said. "Yes, I am fine with designer babies but . . . what if they made a mistake with the Ambassador?"

Everyone was looking toward S'Chess.

"I know," S'chess said. "But I must be informed if what the admiral said is possible."

Smart sighed.

"Captain," Smart said, leaning forward with hands clasped together on the table. "My opinion aside, I would take it with a grain of salt."

"Byanne?" S'Chess asked.

"I sensed the admiral's concerns for the Ambassador," Byanne said. "They are very real."

"Sir?" Marek piped up.

"Yes, Mr Marek?" S'chess asked.

"I would like to meet Mr Scott," Marek said. "But honestly getting lost is not worth it."

S'Chess looked over toward Cidel.

"Captain," Cidel signed. "I agree with Marek." The light skinned but dark Deltan nodded. "A mute would not survive in unexplored space so far away from federation outposts." Cidel looked over toward the captain. "But it is your decision alone."

"Captain," Byanne said. "The admiral could be bluffing."

"Scotty made a remote control that controlled a starship from orbit while stranded from federation space," S'chess said. "I take that with full accountability from him. Humans are very good at macgyvering." He cleared his throat. "I have made my decision." He out reached hitting the button on the center of the table. "S'Chess to bridge."

"Ahmad here." Ahmad said.

"Do we still have the federation tracker on?" S'Chess inquired.

"It has not been updated but I can look." Ahmad said.

"Thank you, Ahmad." S'Chess said.

"Which ship do you want us to station by?" Ahmad said.

"Enterprise E." S'Chess said.

"On it." Ahmad's fingers glided on the updated console then set in code to activate the tracker. A few beeps and whirs later the screen had another option up displaying the flow chart of several starships in action. "I have found the Enterprise E."

"Inform Miss Martinez that our destination has changed to the Enterprise E." S'Chess said.

"Sir, that would take days at normal warp drive." Ahmad said. "By the time we get there, the starship will be gone."

"Turn on Transwarp." S'Chess said. "We are doing a favor."

"Aye, sir." Ahmad said.

"S'chess out." S'Chess turned the screen off then faced the crew. "This meeting is adjoined."

The core officers stood up then started to file out of the room. Byanne remained in the room. The paintjob to the room was peach. There were plates of metal installed into the wall ranging in size and shape. S'Chess turned in the direction of the beastazoid. S'Chess sighed,stepping aside from the chair. The seat had a soft, warm pad.

"S'Chess," Byanne said. "We do have a shipment."

"The shipment can wait," S'Chess said. "It is not important."

"Not important?" Byanne asked. "If we don't get it to Alph'ek, then our zoologist Mister Ponz will be murdered on live stream by a underground movement that originated from Romulus ten decades ago. They have killed six hundred humans and Mister Ponz will be the six hundredth first."

"The needs of the few outweigh the needs of the one." S'Chess said.

"Why does he want to be taken to the Enterprise E?" Byanne said. "Have you not taken that into consideration?"

"His daughter." S'Chess said.

"S'Chess, I have known you for years, and this is highly unlike you to go on the blood of kin." Byanne said.

"I have decided this is my last mission." S'Chess said.

"They kill in the name of your laughing god. " Byanne reminded. "You told me you were in on this mission."

"Mission is off," S'Chess said. "You can't kill a movement. It always comes back like a weed."

"This is an organization." Byanne said.

"Section 31 will take care of it when the movement takes a star fleet officer," S'Chess said. "We did what we could."

"Sending them the wrong animals?" Byanne said. "You know the flack we got for that."

"Gassy and annoying animals native to Andoria." S'Chess said, then he walked past her toward the doors. "They could have had allergies toward them and lost some of their men. "

"They have not killed a thousand, yet." Byanne said.

"Which is good and bad at once," S'Chess said. "Ambitious movements would have hit two thousand by two years."

"They call us names: pirates, smugglers, movers," Byanne said. "But I do not want to serve them."

"Then don't," S'Chess said. "Disband the team and make something good out of it." S'Chess said, as Byanne got in the way. "Like a freelance search and rescue team."

"You know what happens to those who cut off deliveries to them." Byanne said.

"It will not be my problem." S'Chess said, then he went through the doorway.

S'Chess walked the halls. Knowing he had a announcement to make. Despite it being a pirate ship that operated under murky territory, S'Chess operated it much like a star fleet vessel except for many of its obligations were different. He could hear his footsteps echo in the hall. He needed privacy at the moment. And he would need to make the announcement from the bridge of the change. He remembered how the halls of the USS Nimoy were when he first came. They were a shade of gray, the walls lined with red support beams, the red comn terminals installed into the wall with a black screen, the soft red klexons were intact, and the floor was gray. All clean and built together. It was a historical starship. One that had served alongside the Enterprise on various missions. It was lost on its last, where it went missing, but the crew were found on a planet that was later deemed a federation planet. It was only roughly eleven years or so since he had first came on this ship. The Nimoy had been the subject of animal stampedes,unsatisfied employers firing upon him, ion storms, and anomalies. The klaxons still wailed but the glass had been long shattered. The floor was covered by a blue rug. There were dents in the walls. Pieces of scrapmetal covered the holes.

S'Chess went into the turbo lift.

"Risa or Romulus. . . ."  S'Chess said, taking the leveler. "Or Andoria. . . " He paused, with heavy consideration, his eyes darting back and forth with his head lowered toward the floor. "Maybe I should enter the security corps."

The turbo lift doors closed as the leveler was raised upward.

 

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