The BLTS Archive- Lemonade and Summer Nights by Istannor (Istannor@aol.com) --- Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them, I only check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back. Hello folks. As promised this is the story I turned into Pocket Books. I wrote it a year ago. I found it truly difficult to write with the constrictions set by the contest, because it seemed to make me automatically dumb down the tale I told. I found during this process that my natural tendency is to write PG13 and use rather adult formats and situations. I sent this off and then did not post it, strangely enough, because while I thought it was good enough for Pocket, I never thought it was good enought for the newsgroup. Weird, aren't I? So, in the spirit of cheering up Rob, this tale is shown to one and all. --- My heart is single and cannot be divided And it is fastened on a single hope; Oh you, who might be the moon Until I die, I shall not give up lovesongs. Oh God, forgive me my shortcomings SOMALI LOVESONG --- "Scotty, you rusty socket, how the hell are you?" "Fine, Jenkins. Couldn't be better. Have you found the Engine room yet, or are you still needing me help?" "Found it right where you lost it. Are you still counting with your fingers, Old Man?" Lt. Cdr. Corey Jenkins was the Chief Engineer for the USS. Glory. "No, Laddy, I'm using my toes too, still faster than you. Where are you on your way to?" "With you. We didn't finish that bottle of Scotch on our last shoreleave, and it was criminal to leave it open, so I had to finish it for you. But, I know you have something laying around." "I just might at that. Follow me, boy, and let me show you how a grown man drinks Scotch." Scotty led him off into the corridors of Starbase 16, where the giant ships had laid over to re-supply. He had a few hours to enjoy before he needed to be back on the ship and if he got too snookered he could always take a detox pill. Wouldn't be good to go back on board late, or drunk. The Captain frowned on that and he hated to disappoint his Captain. He'd just have to get drunk and be sober by 2100. "Jim, are you going back down to the base." "No, Bones, I already paid my respects to the base commander. I'm tired. I'd rather get some sleep." The Captain of the Enterprise sat in the Command chair, reviewing the orders for re-supply and requisitions from different department heads. "I'm coming up there and check your temperature. You gotta be sick as a dog if you're staying up on this ship." McCoy's voice came through the Com. "I'm fine, Bones, just tired." "I don't believe it. I'm on the way up." The COM went dead. "Captain, it may be wise for you to acquiesce and beam down with the Doctor. I do not think he plans to give up this particular campaign. You are aware of how stubborn he can be. Also, the leave would be beneficial for you. " "So would sleep, Spock, and Bones definitely doesn't want to sleep. He's planning to beam down there and go hogwild. Just not interested." "I am unsure what an unlicensed, untrained porcine have to do with the question before us, ...hello, Doctor." McCoy burst into the bridge like a caped avenger. "Hey, Spock. Jim, Captain, Sir, get your arse in gear. You need off this ship. Doctor's orders, and I mean it." "Bones." "Don't Bones me, dammit, let's go." Kirk sighed, gave Spock a look of resignation, then turned to the doctor. "I'm yours. Where are we heading?" "That's more like it. We have a dinner engagement at the Club Ratso. Let's hit it, Captain." "You've got the con, Spock. See you at 2200 hours, unless I pan out first," Kirk groaned. "Captain, I am certain that the physicians on board will find some way to get your pan back in, should that occur. I will be sure to beam you directly to Sickbay, if necessary." The Vulcan heard a mumbled "smartass," as his Captain exited from the bridge. Spock ignored the chuckles from the rest of the bridge crew as he sat down at his station to relax over some research. He always felt more at ease when he knew Kirk was safe and enjoying himself. "Now, Scotty, you know that anything you can do, I can do better. So why don't you just give it a break." One of their favorite pastime's over the years had always been bragging rights to who was best. Corey had abdicated on the areas of Captain and First Officer only. There just weren't any better than Kirk and Spock. Everything else was up for grabs. "Damn, man, does it have to be your royal arse, I be kicking now, too? You should know tis only a warm-up for me. The Enterprise is jus' better that's all there is to it, me boy, and don't you be forgetting it either." Scotty leaned drunkenly over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "I don't hol' it agin ye, Laddy, 'tis only plain truth I be speaking." His accent was so heavy that it was hard to understand him and it took several seconds for it all to filter through to Corey. "Look, Scotty, I de-double, double dare you to go head to head against us. You can't. You know we'll whale on you. Come on, boy, do it!" He slurred drunkenly. "Name it. You name it; we'll kick you through a black hole in it." "I'll name it and you name the meeting place and the date. Enterprise against us, fair and square. Do ya have enough guts to do it? Howse bout it, Scotty." "Boy," he leaned dangerously, "go ahead name your poison. We're game." "Basketball." "Basketball?" "Basketball, bucko, take it or leave it. Are you game or not?" "We ain't scared of nothing! Basketball it is." And, with that they shook, after missing each other's hands the first time. --- "Bones, why did you drag me here?" Kirk asked with more than a hint of exasperation. "Because you needed the break, Jimboy. You've been through hell, and your prescription's a change of pace. Also, I had something else in mind for you that you might find entertaining." "And what might that be?" They were in Café Ratso, the most notorious dive on Starbase 16. It was often closed to fleet personnel because of various and sundry transgressions, but they had been on good behavior for a whole week. At least the liquor wasn't blatantly watered. McCoy leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear, "I want you to teach me how to pick up women." "What?" Kirk half shouted. "Bones, I ought to leave now. You brought me down here, kept me from getting some rest, dammit, just so I could give instructions on picking up women? Are you out of your Southern-fried mind?" "No, Jim listen, help a man out. I'm getting older now and it isn't as easy. Just give me a few pointers. Like, for instance, show me how to pick up that woman over there." "Where, what woman?" "Over there, against the wall." Kirk turned to look where McCoy was pointing and looked straight in to the face of Areel Shaw, Federation Legal Counsel. She smiled broadly and waved at him as she got up to walk over. Kirk smiled before he realized his face was moving. He liked Areel a lot. She was brilliant, entertaining, and...entertaining. "Bones, remind me to kill you later." He sat back to watch her saunter and oh, she did saunter across the room. "I don't think you'll be able to, boy. I've got some business to take care of. See ya later." Kirk waived abstractly at him, never taking his eyes off Areel as she strolled over. He felt a little shiver of anticipation as he remembered how talented Areel truly was. "Hello, Jim." Her voice was pleasantly husky as she slid into the booth and gave him a peck on the cheek. "How's the defending the Galaxy business?" "Better by the second, Areel." He leaned over, close enough to catch her scent. "Did you arrange this, or is this all Bones' idea?" "We're in cahoots. He was worried about you and I was thinking about you." She leaned and whispered into his left ear. Do you still...?" "Only with you," he replied. "Would you like me to demonstrate?" His smile made her shiver. "I though you'd never ask. Come with me, Captain Bligh. " "Damn, I have great friends," he thought to himself as he followed Areel out of Café Ratso and to their own little private nightclub. --- At 2200 hours precisely, Kirk's and Scotty's communicators beeped. Scotty lifted his head off the table where he had passed out next to Corey in the Hole in the Hole Bar. Kirk moaned quietly and reached for the communicator. They flipped them open. "Kirk, here." "Scott, here." "Beam up in 15 minutes." "Acknowledged. Kirk out." "Humph, leave me be, don't you see I'm dying. I'll be there. Scott out." "Areel." "Hmm." "Areel, wake up. It's time for me to go back to the ship." "Hmm." "Areel, really, wake up." "Jim, you can't leave, we didn't get to the part about hoisting the sails yet," she complained sleepily. "Sorry, Areel, ships calling, got to go. Why don't you meet me tomorrow at 1700 hours? I can show all sorts of things about dropping anchors." He kissed her slowly and seductively on the neck, as he stroked her arms and hips suggestively. "Can't, Jim, I have a case tomorrow. Sorry." He felt a fine tremor begin. "Can't you be a little late for beam up?" He looked at her and smiled wickedly. "There has to be some rewards for being the Captain." At 2300, he beamed back to the ship. --- They left the Starbase at 1900 the next day. All of the crew was on board and safe, if not entirely sound. The ship glided out of the Starbase dock like a 3 master tacking to a strong wind. Kirk found himself patrolling the corridors alone, at 0130, checking on the ship. He turned into engineering and found Scotty there, leaning over one of the consoles, shaking his head. "Scotty, what are you doing up? You're not on duty for another 6 hours." "I just thought I'd check on the new parts before I turned in." He sat looking at his captain nervously. "Jim, I, ah...have something I sort of need to tell you." "Yes, Scotty, what is it?" Kirk sat on the edge of the console next to him and waited quietly. "Well, ah, Jim, that is, Captain, I think you need to know something that happened before we left Starbase 16." Kirk said nothing, just sat, and looked. Scotty shifted in his chair and tugged his shirt down. "It seems that I made a bet last night with Corey Jenkins. You remember him, don't you?" Kirk just nodded, never taking his eyes off his Chief Engineer. "It's us against the Glory. We were challenged." Kirk still didn't comment. "It's a matter of honor, Captain." Kirk relented and decided to help Scotty out, a little. "You got drunk, and got us into some sort of contest. What is it, speed trials, efficiency ratings, what? "Basketball." "Basketball?" "Basketball." "How in the heck are we suppose to compete against the Glory in basketball? We won't even see them for another month." "I know. But we have set it up to happen at our next rendezvous at Starbase 16. We have to have the teams ready by then. Jenkins gets to pick 3 out of 6 of our players and we have to meet his team for a winner take all. It's for the honor of the ship." "Scotty, I'm at a loss as to how basketball has anything to do with the honor of the ship. What else did you bet?" "A month's pay." Kirk chuckled. "You're on your own, Scotty. I'll okay any shift changes you need to get people to practice, but this sounds like a pretty inane bet to me." Kirk turned to leave. "Ah, Jim." Kirk pulled up short and turned to look at him again. He definitely didn't like the sound of that last phrase. "There's a little, itty, bitty problem." "Uh Huh. What is that "little, itty, bitty problem," Scotty?" "He picked you," Scotty rushed to finish before he chickened out, "and Spock, and Chekov." "He did, did he? Well you let him know: it's no deal." Kirk shook his head vigorously. The last thing he wanted to do was be involved in this hare-brained scheme. "I gave my word, Jim. I can't, we can't back out," Scotty pleaded. He knew Kirk would relent. He truly was a pushover for matters of honor. "NO. N-O, NO, No way, No way in hell, No. See Ya, Scotty. You're on your own." He turned and walked out without a backward glance. "Ball bearings, " Scotty muttered. He thought deeply for a moment. "McCoy. He can get him to do it. This calls for Leonard's help." Satisfied with his solution; he turned in for the night. "No, Bones, I won't do it." Kirk shook his head. "He got himself into this mess; he needs to get himself out of it. If you think I'm going to play basketball for a drunken bet, you have another think coming. I'm not asking Spock, either. He should've never given his word. Nope, I'm not doing it. Later that day, Kirk sat with Spock over a chess game. They had eaten dinner together and worked out as usual. The silence was comfortable for them both. Spock began without preamble. "Is there a specific reason behind your reticence in requesting my participation in the planned athletic challenge between the Glory and the Enterprise? Kirk looked up . "How did you find out about that?" "Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy both approached me. They are under the impression that your reluctance to participate in the contest is due to a desire to spare me embarrassment. I can assure you I would not be embarrassed, or unduly distressed, by such an event. It would raise ship morale, and succeed in casting all of us in a favorable light before the crew." "No, I don't think it's a good idea. It is a scheme by their Captain to get one up on us. They picked me, Chekov and you. Neither Chekov, nor I, break 1.5 meters, and they have assumed you can't play. You know I don't like playing a game by someone else's rules. I see no reason to put our reputation as top dog on the line because of a drunken bet. Ten will get you twenty that it was planned on their part from the beginning." "Jim, I happen to know that you have a deadly jump shot. Chekov loves the game of basketball and plays it at every opportunity. I am Vulcan, so I will be proficient by the time of the tourney. You will be able to tutor me in any area of weakness I may encounter. I doubt there will be many, as it is really a quite mathematical game. It is about angles, torque, acceleration, and position. I am able to easily calculate trajectories of a single round ball, after all." Kirk stared at him for a long moment then broke into a slow smile. "Spock, you never cease to amaze me." Spock felt warmed by that smile, as well as the open affection that accompanied it. "Wait, I didn't know you play basketball." "In fact, I do not. However, I am familiar with the concepts, and I do not see how it would be too difficult to acquire a certain level of skill with the fundamentals of the game. I am Vulcan after all." "You're nuts, you egotistical Vulcan, you. Come on down to the gym. I'll go over some things with you and if you're still interested, we'll play. However, I still want Scotty to suffer a little. Drunken bets are a bad habit to get into. How high can you jump anyway?" --- Kirk was climbing out of a Jeffries tube after he finished his inspection of the updates and repairs where he had been checking the changes made to the schematics of his ship. He could still get down under the consoles and fix almost any system on the ship, given the time. He was one of the few captains who could. He was satisfied with how the work was going so he made for his quarters to finish his weekly report to Starfleet. After that, he and his little team would practice some more in secret. Scotty managed to bump into him every day, but Kirk still hadn't given him a yes. He had however, already recruited the rest of the team. He, Spock, and Chekov had been chosen by Williams. Added to them was Ensign Jason Kluge, a very large, very young, very excellent, basketball player. Then, Kirk got Lt. Sheila Weathersby, the crew-woman who had challenged him to a match, in her attempt to get more shoreleave. She had the wickedest jump shot he had seen in years, and moved like a panther on the court. He had only beaten her by one shot in their match. Both of them knew that had been plain luck. Last, but not least, he had added a secret weapon and he had decided to play the game on more than one level. That way he could have fun with Scotty, and the Glory crew. The ship had been ordered out to patrol the sector shipping lanes for one week and then they were going to do a little deep space exploration. Kirk was looking forward to the deep space foray with great anticipation. He loved blazing new trails for the Federation, finding new worlds, new races, new challenges. The patrol was short and sweet. All they had to do was carry a big stick for a week, and cover for the cruiser normally on patrol in the sector. The other ship needed the time for some urgent refit work and Starfleet wanted the Enterprise to keep the lanes safe. The ship was ready. He was ready. There was nothing else to do, really, except wait and hope he didn't have to kill anybody, and nobody got hurt. Only the truly psychotic would try to raid shipping lanes with a Starship around, especially the Enterprise. It should be a relatively calm cruise for the next week. That should give him enough time to help Spock get down his post play moves. The wonderful thing about his friend was that you only ever had to show him anything once. He smiled to himself as he thought back to their last practice. They had fun, real undiluted fun. Even Spock got into the flow, and smiled with his eyes only, of course. James T. Kirk, was playing basketball having a ball. Kirk had played solitary contests, or at most chess, only with Spock really, for so long that he had forgotten how it felt to play a team sport. A team activity that didn't have life or death consequences was a surprisingly refreshing blast of clean air for him. Perhaps, he had forgotten how to just have real fun. He had even played basketball solo for years. He would shoot whenever he was on leave and found a court, or in the gym late at night when he couldn't sleep. The sound of the thump on the floor and rattle of the hoop, followed by the whoosh sound as the ball flowed through the net took him back. He was in Iowa playing with his brother, Sam; his mother, Winona; and his grandfather, George, on the court out back. He had been the smallest, so he had learned to depend on his outside shot and the free throw line. He would spend summer nights shooting in the dark, with his Grandpa murmuring words of encouragement. He dreamed of the big game, cheering crowds, and being tall so he could play college ball for a year or two before he got accepted for Starfleet Academy. Basketball reminded him of his last innocent years, the years before the deaths of his grandfather, the horror of Tarsus, the years before the death of his father, Sam, and Edith. Basketball was lemonade, summer nights, and laughter. Basketball was his grandfather telling him to follow the ball into the basket with his hand. "Touch. The game is touch, boy. You might never get big enough to play the power game, so you go for touch and finesse. Never did get big enough, Grandpa. You were right, touch is the key." He found himself at the door to his cabin. Suddenly, he wanted to be alone for awhile. Spock was sitting in the science lab going over the data from a recently published paper on cold starting a warp engine and comparing it to what they had actually done when they had imploded their warp engines to cold start them years ago. Jim had remembered the obscure theory on that fateful day, and insisted they try it as a last ditch effort to keep the ship from spiraling into destruction along with the collapsing world of PSI 2000. This paper cleaned up some of the calculations so that the result would be free of temporal distortion. Their effort had taken them back in time 72 hrs. Spock hoped he wouldn't have to use the information, but having it was wise, just in case. Spock had sensed Kirk's melancholy at lunch. Kirk and he had become friends, as close as brothers, and they both had relaxed their barriers. Strangely enough, it had been hardest for Jim to release his self-imposed restraints, his defensive exile. It had been only recently, that he had begun to allow the Vulcan to see his uncertainties and fears. Always before, he had ruthlessly battened down his hatches over any sign of hurt, or of weakness, even to Spock, and kept them next to his chest, to worry and pick at them like fresh scabs, alone. His T'hy'la's need drove Spock to reach out and help whenever he could. He had agreed to the basketball game, not so much for shipboard morale, as to see his friend have fun. In that regard he had already been rewarded. Kirk loved group activities, team triumphs, circles of people, but his need to be a Starship Captain had in isolated him. His notoriety limited him even further. While he was playing, he was only a guard, nothing more. Kirk had been hit by something called a "moving pick" so hard yesterday that it had flattened him and he cut his lip. Spock had watched Kirk lay on the ground laughing uproariously while Lt. Sheila Weathersby kept repeating: "no foul, no foul, you're still breathing." "Humans," he thought, "wonderfully complex creations, especially my Captain. Spock decided he would give Kirk a bit longer to work himself out of what the Captain called his "blue funk". Then, he would go get Kirk for dinner, and later they would return to the gym and review their Tai Chi forms. Spock reviewed Kirk's strategy. Kirk's secret weapon had proven to be formidable. If his captain's computer searches of the crew of the Glory were reliable, the Enterprise crew's chances of success were 64.3%. However, Williams could be planning to come up with a fallacious substitute or "a ringer" as Jim called it. His strategy for the game had its usual level of brilliance. Each member's current strengths were to be used to the fullest with a simple but elegant rotating offense and defense easy to learn, difficult to defend against, at least for the opposing team. All in all, the "odds were favorable." Spock allowed himself a strand of satisfaction to be braided into his anticipation. This could prove to be quite enjoyable. However, it would be most important to keep Leonard from catching him smiling. The Doctor would never let go of the memory. In the Captain's quarters, Kirk had a conversation with himself. "Enough JTK, pull yourself out of your funk," he told himself. "No time for it." He got to work on some reports on his desk and had almost cleared it when Spock came to get him for dinner. The Vulcan's look told Kirk that Spock had sensed his melancholy come and go. Kirk's shrug said: what else is new; I'm a moody human. They spoke of temporal shifts with warp implosions as they walked to dinner together. --- "Captain, we have picked up a distress signal from the Space Liner Sunquest, en route to Starbase 16. They are requesting emergency assistance and help with a systems failure. They have no gravitation field and their synthesizer is off line. They report a passenger complement of 476 and a crew of 183. "Notify the Sunquest of our position, Uhura, and our expected time of arrival, then patch their Engineer through to Scotty. Maybe he can give them some quick fixes before we get there." Kirk was all business as he rattled off orders in a stream. The crew waited expectantly. Once he had decided a course, everyone would be quickly given a task. "Sickbay." "Sickbay, " the voice of Dr. Chapel filtered over the COM. "Doctor, we will be rendezvousing with a passenger liner that has lost its gravity controls in," he paused and looked at Chekov at navigation, who hearing his pause, filled in the blank. "4.72 hrs, Sir." "4.72 hrs, Dr. Chapel. Be ready for injuries. They have 476 passengers and 183 crew. We need your medical team ready to beam over on arrival." "Understood, Captain." "Spock, sensors on widest possible array. I want to know if anything sneezes in our vicinity while we are sitting ducks." "Yes, Sir." "Scotty, " he hit the COM. "Here, Captain." "Anything you could do for them to patch them up until we get there?" "I gave them a few new things, Captain, but they blew their gravity generator, and they can't manufacture any couplings to pull power off the warp engines, so I'm going to fabricate a generator for them on board to meet their specs and just replace the whole unit." "Scotty, I'm impressed as always." "Thank you, Captain, but I'd prefer something else other than your high regard right now." "I'm still considering it, Scotty. Kirk out." He turned and gave Spock a mischievous grin before he turned back to the woman who stood at his side with another report to review. "Mess!" "Yes, Sir. Lt. Lester, here." "We have a liner, 659 people on board that will need to be fed. Do you think you can handle that kind of load? You have 5 hrs until we'll need it." "No problem, Sir, it won't be fancy, but it'll be ready. I'll need extra staffing, though." "Pull in Beta shift now and requisition additional crew as you require. Just clear it with Mr. Spock first. Kirk out." "Yes, Sir. Lester out." --- When they arrived, the liner was dead in space. They beamed aboard to rampant confusion. The liner's crew was able to handle null gravity, but the passengers were in a state of hysteria. Kirk had some of his crew in magnetic boots and others he sent careening through the ship taking full advantage of the lack of gravity and their skills. Kirk himself loved null gravity, but felt it more appropriate to wait on board ship and direct traffic until they got most of the passenger's back into their cabins and strapped into their bunks. After that seemed to be going along smoothly, he beamed over to speak with the Captain of the luxury liner. It was the kind of ship that used to ply Earth's warmer, friendlier oceans. It had state rooms, gambling casinos, theaters, gyms, all the luxuries of home, to entertain idle passengers as they traveled the by ways of space. All of it designed to take their minds off how dangerous space travel really was. However, random events had conspired to forcefully remind them all, of the ultimate supremacy and the vastness of the void. The Captain's name was Roland Gaston. He was a human, originally from one of the more conservative outer colonies. Kirk would have been charitable if he had said he was not impressed, but he decided to keep that opinion to himself. They were on the bridge of the liner when the First Officer and Chekov entered together to report. "Captain, we have every crew member accounted for and all the passengers are secure in their cabins except two children, aged 5 and 7." "Well, I'm sure they'll turn up, Captain Kirk. I understand that your Mr. Scott is ready to activate the new gravity generator, so why don't we do that and we can look for the little ones once we get underway. We're behind already by 16 hrs and, it means some of these folks could miss their connecting ships if we delay any longer." Kirk looked at the Captain quietly for a moment and then turned to Chekov. "Tell me about the kids, Chekov." "One boy, aged 5, named Joey and one girl aged 7, named Samantha. Both the children are the Asonye's. They are pretty distraught. It seems they were out looking for them when the gravity went. The kids are known to be very curious and precocious." "Do they have a habit of hiding or running away? Were they about to be punished?" "Negative, Sir, just playing in the cabin. The parents fell asleep, and when they woke up, the kids had left the cabin. They weren't too worried until the gravity went, now they're almost hysterical." "Well, Captain, we have a lot of experience with irate passengers and lost children, so why don't you let us handle this from here? If your Mr. Scott can do us the honor of...." "I think not, Captain Gaston. Two missing kids, on a ship that has lost its gravity, make me uncomfortable. I want to find them with the gravity off. Then, we'll restore it." "Captain," irritation crept into Gaston's voice, "we have a schedule to make. Time means credits. There is no reason why we can't look for them once we're under power. This is not a Starship. We don't have the internal sensors to do any kind of search like that." "You don't need internal sensors, Captain Garret. I apologize for the delay, but I'd truly appreciate it if you'd humor me for now." He flipped open his communicator. "Spock?" "Yes, Captain," the calm baritone responded immediately. "We have two kids lost, aged 5 and 7, no internal sensors, and lots of neat hiding places. You know what I need." "I will beam twenty white noise inhibitors over, within ten minutes, Captain." "Thanks, Kirk out." "Captain Kirk," Gaston sputtered in frustration. " What are you going to do? What in heaven's name are white noise inhibitors?" "Devices that will mask the heart beats of all the folks we can account for aboard. Any sounds left are your kids. We find their heart tones, we'll isolate them on the ship, go get them, and take them to Momma and Poppa." "Why don't you leave them with us and we'll do that in route and then we can be on our way?" He asked angrily. "Why are you insisting on this unnecessary delay?" Kirk looked at him blandly. "I guess I'm just an overbearing, controlling kind of guy, Captain Gaston. Unfortunately for you, I command. So, if I'm being overly cautious and they're safely under the bed in the cabin, you can blame the delay on me. Does that make it any easier to digest?" Before the Captain could answer, Kirk took advantage of the null gravity to ricochet off a wall and off the bridge with Chekov following behind. It took 78 minutes for them to block out all the heart sounds on board until they filtered it down to two rapid little heart tones. "Spock, pinpoint those." "Shaft number 5, Captain." Spock paused, rechecking the readings. "They are at Y +125 meters sir from the bottom of the shaft." "Thanks, Spock. Chekov, with me." He flipped open his communicator. "McCoy?" "Yeah, Captain." "Have someone lead you to engineering shaft number 5. We have two little kids in there floating." "Okay, Jim, be there before you can say..." "Too late, I already said it. Kirk out." When they reached the shaft, little Joey and Samantha were floating at the top of it, clutching each other for dear life. The null gravity had hit them while they were "exploring," and they had ended up ricocheting all over the shaft until they floated free, 125 meters up and unable to grab onto anything. Had the gravity come back on, they would've fallen all the way down, to certain death. Chekov grabbed Samantha, and Kirk got Joey. McCoy checked them over and when he was satisfied they were both fine, they left the shaft. The children held the Enterprise officers tightly as they made their way back to their parents' cabin. When they were safely back in their parents' arms, Kirk let Scotty reactivate the ships gravity. He then ordered the away team to rendezvous at the entry deck of the ship to transport back over to the Enterprise. He was sitting there waiting for Scotty, when both the Asonye family and Captain Gaston entered from opposite end of the deck. Gaston reached him first. "Captain Kirk," Gaston began quietly. "Thank-you. You definitely saved those children's lives and you most probably saved my career. I'll never forget you for this. Anything I can do, anything at all, you name it. I am at your disposal." Before Kirk could respond, the Asonyes rushed him and began hugging him like a long lost brother. "Captain, we will never be able to repay you, " the father began tearfully, his wife continued. "You have our eternal gratitude." "No ma'am, you have the wrong person. I was just following Captain Gaston's lead. You should thank him, not me." Kirk could see the shock and gratitude in Gaston's face as the Asonye's turned to him and hugged him gratefully. Then the children joined in. While they were busy, Scotty came, and the away team beamed back to the Enterprise. As they were leaving the transporter room, Chekov grabbed his Captain's arm and held him back so they could speak in private. "Captain, why did you do that? He would've turned the generator on and killed the kids in the process. Why let anybody think that he had anything to do with it?" "I didn't need it, Chekov. He did. He knows he almost made a flaming screw up. He'll never forget it. Now, he'll always think about lives and lost children before money and time. Anyway, to those who show mercy, mercy is given. I've got to build up points for when I screw up again. My bank is low." "Captain, you never screw up." Chekov said with a touch of open reverence. Kirk laughed. "Then how did you beat me yesterday at one on one? Come on, I demand a rematch. I had a spasm yesterday, that's the only reason I missed that last shot." "Captain, of course you know Basketball was inwented in Russia. You are doomed." Chekov rubbed his hands together with a gleam in his eyes of Machiavellian delight. "Chekov, if you make one more crack about Russia and basketball, I think I'll space you without a suit, without a moment's regret. I have been dreading how long it would take you to finally say that." --- The Enterprise arrived 3 weeks and 6 days later back at Starbase 16 to discover the whole base eagerly awaiting the contest with the Glory. Someone, (Scotty suspected Williams,) had leaked the news. reserved the base gym for the event and sold tickets to benefit the Space Explorers Survivors fund. The maneuver had neatly forced the Enterprise to participate or abdicate their position as the Best, or so it seemed. Kirk had refused to answer Scotty's inquiries until they arrived at Starbase 16. "Captain, now tell me, its one thing costing me a month's pay. I was stupid to bet it, but are you going to keep the survivors fund from benefiting, also? Och, Jim, I dinna think you could be so cruel." "I tell you what, Scotty. I'll get a team together and play on one condition." "Anything. You name it, Laddy." "If we win, all your winnings go to the charity of my choice. Deal?" "It's a deal!" He grabbed Kirk's hand and shook it until the Captain felt his shoulder was being pulled from its socket. " You are a prince, Jim. Can I help you select a team? Remember, it's four men and two women, all officers. What can I do to help?" "Nothing, Scotty. I think I can manage. Just be there on the day, and keep me up to date on the line on us. That's all I want you to do. You've done quite enough all ready." "I can do that. I can do that." The chief engineer's head bobbed enthusiastically. "Right, see you." Kirk smiled sweetly and left. When he got to their hidden practice gym everything was already in motion. "How's the practice going, Chekov? Have you finished the drills yet?" "Yes, Sir. You should see Jason and Mr. Spock go one on one, Captain. It's like they both are Russian. Which I have always suspected." "Chekov!" Kirk interrupted his security chief with a wince and his hands up at the same time. "Please, you're killing me here." Chekov laughed as he turned to watch their team work out. Spock was power forward; Kluge would play center. Chekov was point guard and the rest would play the shooting guard/forward positions. If necessary, Kirk could rotate as point guard. Kirk had instituted an offense called the triangle, which he had stolen from a long gone team. It had proven to be devastating. They had secretly had 2 scrimmages: against a team from Security, and the winner of the previous year's shipboard tournament . They had blown both teams away, or as Spock had said: "The wins were most satisfactory." Kirk had finally relented and let Scotty come to watch them practice. The Scotsman was positively glowing with anticipation. Afterwards, he was heard singing ancient Highland dirges as he walked the corridors of the ship. The day arrived. It was time to play ball. The Enterprise team ran onto the court in mismatched clothes with numbers handwritten on their shirts. The Glory squad was in matching shiny uniforms, with their numbers etched on the fronts and the backs. A picture of the Glory was painted in relief on the side of each pair of shorts. Kirk looked at the Glory squad. Scotty had picked his three carefully. Abdul Singh was twelve years older than Kirk, and not in great shape. He had been desk bound for five years. His First Officer was human and shorter than Chekov, Tom Michaels; his navigator was a human, Lt. Syd Jones, a known tennis fanatic, who hated basketball. The next three were ringers. Singh had picked his Andorian helmsman as a woman. Huoic was pre-female, but she definitely was not a woman. He picked his Chief of Security as the other woman. She was two full meters and over a hundred thirty kilos of red-haired, brown-skinned muscle from a heavy gravity world. Kirk had anticipated those two, but it seemed Singh had a temporary officer posted to the Glory from Earth to get some deep space experience, Commander Dickey Simmons from Los Angeles, California, Earth. The same Dickey Simmons who had played point guard for the LA Lakers for four years before going back to college and then to Starfleet. Fortunately for the Enterprise crew, the man was only 1.8 m tall, short for the NBA. "Ouch," Kirk thought, "Williams is sneakier than I thought, but," he smiled, "not sneaky enough." He had his own ringer and she was straight up legal too. Christine Chapel had used the name of Chris Chaps when she played in the WNBA and she could still dunk. "Ah, this is gonna be good. Savor this moment, Singh; it will be your last." The crowd was pretty evenly divided between pro-Enterprise, pro-Glory, and "what the heck is Basketball anyway". When the Glory team hit the floor, they ran a flawlessly executed series of warm-ups drills to the raucous cheers of the crowd. The Enterprise squad had already warmed up on the ship, so they arrived loose and sweaty. Kirk sat on the bench and watched Spock do some esoteric Vulcan stretches while the rest of the team shot around lazily. Scotty sat next to him anxiously. "The spread was 2 points for the Glory until they came in those uniforms. Now, it's a 5-point spread for the Glory." "Good. Bet the wad when the spread hits better than 7." "Got ya." Scotty moved off to check the line again. Captain Singh strolled casually over to where Kirk was sitting. "Mighty intimidating team you have there, Jim. You want to resign now, and save yourself the embarrassment?" "Nope. Anyway, it's for charity, Abdul. We wouldn't want to disappoint the survivors fund, now would we?" "Hey, Jim, I like you. I promise to keep the whipping below a fifty-point spread." Kirk looked at him with a half smile. "You are really too good to me, Abdul. See you on the court." McCoy came over to sit next to his friend as the opposing Captain walked off. "How's it going, Jim?" "According to plan, Bones, my friend. All according to plan." Singh reached his bench and motioned Corey over. "Are you sure he doesn't have something up his devious gold sleeve? Kirk is too darn relaxed, like he's hiding something." "Captain, what can he be hiding? The Vulcan has never played basketball in his life; Kirk is not a big guy. He went into the Academy at 15 years old and never played on a team. He has two women, a short Russian, and the only one who looks like he can play is that Kluge guy. It's a done deal. We're going to be able to coast to a victory." "I don't like this. You know his reputation." "This isn't battle, and we aren't Klingons. Maybe he just doesn't care. It's only a game after all." "Game my behind. This is the only chance we will ever have to beat Kirk. I want him served to me on a platter. If I didn't, I never would've suggested that you get Scotty drunk in the first place. If this works, I'll have bragging rights for twenty years." "Just get ready to brag, then. I guarantee a win." Singh looked at his smartly drilling, identically suited team going through their warm-ups, led by a former NBA point guard. Then, he looked at Kirk's disjointed crew, stretching and laughing with each other at the other end of the court. He suddenly felt very nervous. --- Opening tip went to the Glory team. They led by eight at the end of the quarter. Kirk sat on the bench, watching Singh's team. His own team was playing good ball; he had no complaints there. Spock was having a little problem keeping up with Simmons, but Jason and the Security Chief from the Glory were evenly matched. He had Christine playing against the Andorian and Chekov was matched up against Syd Jones. All in all, a good quarter. As he sat, Scotty came over next to him, and quietly whispered, "Spread's up. I bet it all, Jim." "What's the spread?" "Ten points. But Williams is giving 9:5 odds that they win." "Put an extra hundred on us to win, with Williams." "Jim!" "Come on Scotty, where's your sense of adventure?" Kirk laughed as the whistle blew for the beginning of the second quarter. He walked over to substitute for Chekov, and moved Spock to defend against the Security Chief. He sent Chapel against Abdul and moved Sheila onto their other forward. Then Kirk called the first play. The whistle blew and the ball went up. The tip went to the Glory. Dickey Simmons moved to his left, faked, and made a pivot and a pass. Kirk signaled and Spock filled the passing lane and intercepted the ball. Kirk had already broken for the other end of the court, for a two-on-one fast break. He faked right to the basket and passed off to Spock. The Vulcan went up for an easy lay-up. Enterprise down by six. "Nice play, Kirk," Dickey sneered. "I hope you don't think you're gonna do that again." "Nope. Just happy to be playing on the same court with you, Mr. Dickey, Sir." Kirk smiled and waited for them to bring in the ball. Third quarter buzzer sounded. Enterprise down by two. "Chekov, you're in for Chapel. Take Abdul. He can't move to his left at all. Jason, you can switch off on to their chief again. Spock, I want you on that Andorian; the mismatch will let you post up. Okay guys, this is for all the marbles, let's fire all tubes. I'll guard Simmons. Spock, fill the lane when he tries to take me into the basket." Simmons walked up to Kirk and stood leaning over beside him, where the refs couldn't hear him "I'm going to spank you real hard, now. So, don't hold it against me." "Oh, the pleasure of pain. Did your mother really name you Dickey, or is that descriptive?" Simmons pulled back with a look of surprise. Kirk laughed and ran to catch the inbound pass from Jason. He dribbled right, and passed to Spock who fed the ball in quickly to Jason, who had cut straight to the basket after he inbounded the ball. Two points; tied up. The gym was louder than photon torpedoes. Everyone was screaming and jumping up and down. That's when Simmons took the ball around the left side of the key. Kirk moved to follow and as he turned, Singh turned sideways with an elbow and clipped Kirk hard across the temple, flooring him with a thud. His head bounced against the wooden floor. When he could see, Kirk was looking up at the concerned face of Leonard McCoy. Spock was restraining Jason before the Ensign could get to Singh. Even in a basketball game, you weren't supposed to strike a superior officer. Jason was very protective of his Captain Kirk, and was hollering something about knocking a certain Captain clear to glory. Security had formed a barrier in front of the seating section, as they had noted a dangerous movement from the Enterprise crew towards the floor. A few redshirts wished silently for phasers on stun. McCoy's lopsided grin came into focus. "You okay, Jim? How many fingers do I have up?" "Twelve." "Shoot, still can't count worth a damn. Get up, slowly. I'll walk you over to the bench. You should see the beauty he gave you. Your forehead looks like a knobby grapefruit right now. Come on, get up." "I'm fine, Bones." Kirk wheeled drunkenly to his knees. Chekov grabbed his arm to steady him. "Uh, huh, sure you are." "Jim?" "Yes, Spock?" "Perhaps it would be better if you sat out the rest of the game. You do have a rather impressive hematoma forming on your forehead." "No frigging way. I'm about to do a Jordan on him." "What is that?" "That's when somebody pisses you off and you come back and scorch them for game high points and win, Spock." McCoy informed him confidently. "It's a phrase that actually predates the eugenics war, probably from the late twentieth century." "Ah yes, I recall the reference. Then, perhaps I should do a Rodman on them. If memory serves, that is where I begin to play with utter abandon, and grab every single rebound." Kirk began to laugh, and had to stop abruptly to hold his head with a groan. "Let me go shoot these free throws. I get three for a flagrant foul." Kirk made all three, then staggered back to the sidelines. "Chekov, you go in. I'll rotate in after a few." The game went up and down for the next few minutes. Finally, after a little of McCoy's magic, Kirk was only seeing ten fingers again. He went in for Chekov. His first shot was from the top of the key. Nothing but net. Thirty seconds were left on the scoreboard. Glory was leading by one and had the ball. Kirk called a time out. "Jason, you take Simmons. He's been playing the whole game and your legs are younger. I'll take Singh. Chapel, you've got Jones, and Spock you have whoever's left; they'll probably put in the Chief. Spock, we need the ball." "Now, Captain?" "Now, Spock. Do a Rodman for me." Glory took it out from under the basket. Twenty seconds. Singh passed to Simmons, who drove around Christine. Jason filled the lane. Simmons passed off to the Andorian who came thundering in for a dunk. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a green tinged hand came up above the rim and slapped the ball out to Kirk, who had started running full tilt down the court to the other end. Simmons turned in angry frantic, pursuit, ready to block the shorter man's lay-up. Kirk faked and passed to the trailing Christine. She floated the ball up into the air in front of the rim. Jason Kluge slammed it down with a thunderous swoosh. Kluge hung from the rim, swinging joyfully. Enterprise by one. The stands emptied. People were shouting, jumping on Jason, and hugging them all, with abandon; even Spock was not spared. McCoy was jumping up and down, his voice like a croak of drying leather. Scotty and Uhura were dancing a jig in the middle of the floor. It was glorious pandemonium. Later that evening, the party roared around the combined crews of the two Starships. Bones was drunk, Scotty was drunk, Kluge was drunk, and ...well, the whole crew was drunk, except Spock. "Where the hell is Jim, Spocko? He should be basking in Glory too, ya know. I haven't seen him for a while. Hey, basking in Glory, I made a joke here." "I'll go find him, Doctor. It is obvious you are in no condition to locate anyone. Especially if you think that remark was amusing." McCoy snorted as Spock walked away. He watched the Vulcan's retreating back through bleary eyes. "You are a barrel of laughs, Spocko." He staggered as he returned to the party, especially Glory's big, beautiful, security chief. Spock looked around. Kirk, Singh, and Simmons had been together earlier, but there was Singh, and Simmons was trying to get very close to Sheila Weathersby. "Where would he go?," the Vulcan asked himself. "Of course." When Spock got to the Starbase observation deck, he could just make out a solitary figure against the backdrop of the stars and the inky black of space. "Jim." The figure didn't turn. "Spock." "Dr. McCoy is searching for you. I did not wish to risk his health by allowing him to wander in his current condition." Kirk chuckled. They sat and watched the stars in companionable silence. "What do you plan to do with our winnings, Jim?" "I'll give a party for the ship with fresh food, no reconstituted anything. The rest will go to the surviving families of the crew we've lost, unless you want something different." "No, those choices are acceptable." Kirk turned away from the viewport and smiled at his friend. "Nice block, Spock." "It was most satisfying. Did you enjoy yourself?" "I'm tired. I hurt. I have a shiner and a bump on my forehead the size of an apple and you want to know if I had fun?" "Yes." "I loved every minute of it. How about you?" "I also found it to be a gratifying experience." The Vulcan sat silently again. Spock finally shifted to look at his friend, sitting against the wall, one leg stretched out lazily in front of him. Kirk held a drink in the hand resting on his leg. "What are you drinking, Jim?" "Lemonade, want some?" "Yes, that would be refreshing." They shared. --- The End