The BLTS Archive- Christine's Interesting Shuttle Trip
by J. Juls (jjuls@tbc.net)

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Disclaimer: Good ol' Paramount still owns them. Well, they always
have and always will, I guess. Poor me.

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"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the Starfleet shuttlecraft Kepler,
to any Federation vessel. We have a medical emergency onboard and
are in need of assistance."

From the passenger compartment, Christine heard Commander Spock's
recorded message repeat itself for the umpteenth time. She doubted
that any ship would respond, though; here in the remote space between
Planet Artesia and the Federation, not many ships had reason to
travel. They could only make best speed to Sector Beta Three, where
the Enterprise would detect their call. In the meantime, while Spock
fine-tuned the engines to squeeze another millicochrane out of them,
Christine struggled with her patient.

Captain Kirk lay before her on the passenger couch, diaphoretic and
semiconscious, struggling against his restraints as if possessed by
alien beings. He had been ill for over a standard day now, his state
having begun to deteriorate rapidly a few days out from Artesia. She
now labored with all her skill to keep him stable. And to think that
this situation had all happened for no reason! She became lost in
thought as she remembered working in Sickbay that fateful day, as
usual ...

---

Commander Spock walked into Sickbay.

"I require vaccines for a journey to Planet Artesia, Doctor. I'm
bound there for a cybernetics conference."

"Artesia? Why in stars do you want to go to that dump? There must
be cybernetics conferences on more interesting planets. If you
insist on wasting your R & R that way."

"I assure you, Doctor, I do wish to attend this *particular*
conference. And I will spend my R & R any way I please, with no help
from illogical humans."

McCoy grumbled but gave Spock the hypos anyway, and everything got
back to normal around Sickbay. Except Christine herself.

Just the thought of Mr. Spock, all alone in a shuttlecraft, sent her
head and body spinning almost out of control! The day seemed to
stretch out forever as she worked, formulating her plan at the same
time. After work, she ran back to her quarters to look up Artesia on
a space map. It turned out to be a five-day journey. Imagine, five
days in a shuttle, alone with Mr. Spock! The thought was almost too
enticing for her to bear. Consulting her terminal, she found a
conference on microbiology that was going on at the same time, so she
signed up for it. Then she had to visit Dr. McCoy's quarters and ask
him for leave.

Doctor McCoy paced back and forth through the room in annoyance.
Finally he stopped to stare at her in incredulity. "Christine, why
in stars do you want to go to that conference? You know that the
Artesians are more interested in making *beer* than doing any serious
medical research." He paused then, bouncing on his toes, that
knowing look slowly coming over his face. "It's Spock, isn't it?
You want to be alone with him in the shuttle." He shook his head,
chuckled. "Can't say I'm surprised." After a few minutes, he shooed
her out of his quarters with an "Okay, you can go. But don't do
anything I wouldn't do now, y'hear?"

---

She had still needed permission from the Captain, however. And,
Christine thought now, it hadn't really been a surprise when he
decided he was going to go along, too. She studied his flushed,
delirious face and saw him again as he had been that day in the
transporter room, not too long ago:

"If you think for one moment, you shameless hussy, that you are going
to get your talons into my precious Spocky, you have another think
a-comin'!" he'd bitched, danger in his eyes. "I'm going *with*
Spookykins, and I'm going to see to it that no harlot like you *ever*
even gets *near* my Greenums!"

Okay, Christine remembered now, he hadn't actually said any of that.
But she could tell that's what he'd been thinking. In the false
smile which didn't quite reach his eyes, in the overly-jolly way he'd
uttered, "Ensign," all had been made clear.

But what about now? What was this strange malady that had put her
captain in such a state? And how could she possibly help him?

"No ... no ... Spock," he murmured as she scanned him once again.
Nothing. She tried another frequency. "Spock, how could I have, how
could I have? Glue. I need ... to find ... the glue." No, this
frequency wasn't showing any results either ... but wait. What was
this?

"Commander! I think I have something on the scan, but I'm not sure
what it is!"

Commander Spock hastened toward the passenger compartment. "Report,
Ensign."

"Sir, I was scanning the captain with Dilurian rays when I saw this
disturbance in the lower abdomen." She examined the results further
as she turned it to show Spock and was hit by a realization. "It
almost looks ... Tholian." They had encountered the Tholians only
weeks before, and the Captain had been captured by their web for an
extended time. Thorough scans afterward had been negative, but what
if ... ?

"Yes, Ensign. You may be correct. Little is known about the Tholian
reproductive method; perhaps the model we have is incomplete."

"Do you mean that the Tholian egg case is actually even smaller than
it was thought to be?"

"Yes. As you can see, the scan detects hundreds of lifeforms. I
believe these to be Tholian larvae."

"I've broken it, Spock. Your Christmas ornament. I don't know what
to do! I'm oh-so-sorry." The captain sobbed.

"That was my thought as well, Commander. And they are growing in
this area," she indicated a point on the tricorder screen which
showed a mass now grown to over three centimeters in diameter.

"Yes, deep inside the rectum. Should we attempt removal now or
wait?"

"One moment, Sir." Christine scanned the captain again. There was
no Dr. McCoy this time. She'd have to use her own medical knowledge
in this case, and actually she felt an odd sense of power to know
that her captain's life relied only on her.

"I have to ... kill myself! That's what I'll do! Where is my
phaser? No, I'm too afraid. I'll ask McCoy for a hypospray,
and ..."

It didn't look good. His temp and BP had been dropping for hours,
pulse ox was getting worse, he continued to dehydrate and she didn't
have infinite water hypos on board. Also, she had already given him
more than the maximum recommended dose of metacordrazine. Nervous
system scans showed that some larvae, until now too small to be
detected, were migrating toward the captain's brain, and some may
have already reached it. These larvae were the probable cause of his
current state. If the egg sac were removed now, it might be possible
to reverse his condition with regular hypos of Trocodrazil. If not
...

"Spock. Thank you ... for all our ... Christmases together ... "

"We need to remove it now, Sir."

"Understood. Do you require assistance?"

Christine thought about it. If the captain went into neural shock
from the procedure, there would be little that one more person could
do ... yet she realized that it might be important to Spock to stay
by the captain's side. Oh, he'd deny it until his dying day, of
course, the illogic of it ... but it was true nevertheless. She
turned to him. "I'm not sure; I may need some help. Can you get him
into position while I get the surgikit?"

"Certainly, Nurse."

Christine went aft to the stowage area, confident that Spock could
easily restrain the delirious captain with his Vulcan strength. She
heard movement; the captain moaned. "I'll make it up to you, Spock.
Don't leave me." She retrieved the surgikit and went back to the
captain. Spock had him prone on the couch and was refastening the
straps as Kirk stuggled against them. "No, I can't stay here, in
this time," he mumbled. "I have to save those people."

"It's all right, Jim. We're going to help you. Just be still."

Christine opened the surgikit.

And found only a few scraps of metal and plastic where the
instruments should be.

"Commander!"

Spock finished closing the last restraint. "Yes, Ensign?"

"The anal probe ... it's gone! In fact, almost all the instruments
are gone from the kit!"

Spock paused, slowly raising one eyebrow in puzzlement. Then the
other eyebrow joined it in realization. He allowed himself an
almost-human sigh. "I should have known. Logic has failed me here;
that much is obvious. I need to remember that when dealing with
Humanity, one often needs to use more ... circuitous logic."

Christine wanted in on the secret. "What are you talking about,
Sir?"

"Last week, Mr. Scott used this shuttle to travel to an engineering
conference on Rattis III."

"Yes, I remember giving him his vaccinations."

"While he was en route, however, a bomb threat was called in to the
conference site. The conference was moved to Temperance VII."

Christine was shocked! "Temperance VII?! But on Temperance VII ...
if Mr. Scott went there, and they don't ... "

"Undoubtedly, Ensign. Undoubtedly. Mr. Scott used the surgikit to
construct a primitive still."

Christine thought. Well, at least the kit still contained ultraplast
gloves and L-Z jelly. "I'll try to retrieve it manually, Sir." She
took a hypo of general anaesthesia and prepared to administer it.

"Be still, Jim," Spock cooed. "It will all be over in a moment."
Christine pressed the hypo to Kirk's neck.

Spock parted the captain's hospital gown and positioned his legs so
Christine would have access. She slid one finger in as far as she
could, probing. She couldn't locate the mass, though. Spock scanned
again with the tricorder. "I don't think success is possible this
way, Nurse. You are short by 18.2 centimeters. Another method will
have to be tried."

Confused and disappointed, Christine retrieved her finger and peeled
her gloves off. "Another method? What do you mean, Commander?"

"I'll be using the only logical method in this situation." With
that, he unsealed his trousers and pushed the front of his underwear
down. "I'm sorry you have to see this, Nurse, but I may require your
assistance in reaching the mass."

Christine, in those first shocked moments, couldn't help but stare at
Mr. Spock's large, green organ as he pumped it to ready it for entry.
Of course, she had seen Spock unclothed in Sickbay, and she had
studied Vulcan anatomy in nursing school, but she had never actually
seen the Vulcan penis-tentacle at full extension before. She finally
was able to look away but couldn't help watching out of the corner of
her eye as Mr. Spock continued to stimulate himself, and his penis
grew longer, firmer, the tentacle at the end writhing, searching with
blind instinct for the female Vulcan's ovary, to latch onto and pull
free its jealously-guarded egg.

"I shall endeavor to remove the organisms now," Mr. Spock declared as
he purposefully slid his penis into the captain's jelly-covered anus.
He worked his way inward, rocking gently, thrusting ever-so-slowly,
trying to reach the invading mass. But, even with his impressive
length, Christine saw, it would be a difficult maneuver. Spock
grunted, having difficulties.

"I can feel ... the mass, but I cannot ... grasp it," he managed
between thrusts. "As you know, Nurse, the Vulcan penis tentacle
needs to be stimulated at its base in order for the prehensile reflex
to be activated. You will need to get behind me and push."

"I ... what? Oh, yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." Christine hurried over
behind Mr. Spock and, grabbing the captain by the hips, pulled him
back while simultaneously pushing Spock forward with her own hips, in
time with his rhythm. They tried this method for several minutes,
during which Christine had to forcefully remind herself not to get
horny. It was difficult, however, being so close to Spock, and in
this situation -- the captain began to moan.

"I'm afraid I had only the one hypo of general anaesthetic, Sir."

"I see."

"Oh, Spock, Spock, harder, harder," the captain murmured as he began
to wake.

"Nurse ... I'm afraid ... my technique ... will not be ...
successful," Spock finally admitted. He stopped so both of them
could catch their breath.

"To boldly go, to boldly go. I *like* the sound of that. I *like*
the sound."

Christine pried her fingers from the captain's hips. "Mr. Spock, I
... um ... don't think my arms are strong enough to pull the captain
back toward you. That might be the problem."

"Indeed."

"Maybe if I went to the other end and pushed with my ... legs?"

"Proceed, Ensign."

Christine removed her shoes and went to the other end of the couch,
by the captain's head. Bracing her back against the bulkhead, she
placed one foot on each of his shoulders. "I'm ready, Mr. Spock."

"Resuming." He started pushing again, and Christine applied an
opposing force in steady rhythm. Unfortunately, her rear end kept
sliding down the couch until it was right in the captain's face, and
there wasn't anything she could do about it without disrupting Mr.
Spock's efforts. "Almost there, almost there," he whispered.

The captain picked that moment to come fully out of the anaesthesia,
back to his delirium. "Almost there," he moaned. He turned his
head; sightless eyes took in Christine's bodily position, and they
almost focused for a moment. "Miramanee! Oh, Miramanee!" He
plunged forward and rooted in Christine's crotch, pushing aside her
thong panties with his nose.

"I'll absolutely *kill* that Mr. Scott the next time I see him," she
muttered to herself. Then she began to change her mind, however,
because she found out what a lucky gal Miramanee had been! She
almost didn't have the heart to push the captain away anymore, so
delightful was his oral action. Then Spock broke into her thoughts.

"Ensign, your plan is working! The captain is approaching the angle
of attack that I need. Just brace your arms against the wall and
press into the couch, lowering your genitals 3.8 centimeters. This
should draw his thorax down and allow for access."

"I ... what? My plan? Oh! Yes, sir!" Christine did as commanded,
although she wasn't exactly sure about the 3.8 centimeters as the
captain worked his ladies' man magic on her.

"Almost ... almost ... Got it!" Spock exclaimed, before letting go a
strangled sound from deep in his throat and collapsing forward onto
the captain's back. "Jim ... "

The Captain shuddered, shaking the couch; his mouth went slack on her
clit. "Spock." Christine groaned in frustration; not even happy, for
the moment, that Spock had removed the mass. Spock straightened and
withdrew, the glistening Tholian egg sac, now almost a decimeter
across, clutched in his dripping penile tentacle. He went to get a
specimen jar for the egg sac.

But as Christine rested, drained, the captain perked up. "Oh, Helen,
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ... of course I'll take care of your
needs." And he started to suck her again!

Mr. Spock merely looked askance and grabbed a tricorder to scan the
specimen.

Christine didn't need to push with her feet now, so she just leaned
back to enjoy the show, and what a show it was! She saw sparks fly
as the captain sucked her one way and the other, licked her, ate her
out and did it again. Finally, "Oh my stars, *Jim*!" she came.

"Areel," Jim murmured.

Slowly Christine rose and adjusted her panties to their normal
position. Then -- oh, what was she thinking? -- she grabbed the hypo
of Trocodrazil and injected it into the captain's neck.

Quickly she retied his hospital gown, overlapping it securely in the
back; then she moved him over to clean the stickiness from beneath
him. She looked at Mr. Spock, who had finished his scan and was
heading back to the pilot's seat. "Sir?"

He glanced back toward her. "Yes, Ensign?"

"Do we ever have to tell anyone, um, I mean, I wouldn't ... want Mr.
Scott to get in trouble."

Spock turned and placed his hands behind his back, looking
thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Yes. I find your statement highly ...
logical. We do not need to tell anyone exactly what has happened."

"Happened? What happened? Why am I like this?" the captain asked
groggily. Christine hastened to remove the restraints. Spock came
over and helped the captain to lie on his back.

"Jim. I'm ... gratified that you are again with us."

The captain, still appearing dazed, managed one of his sly looks at
Christine. "And you, Nurse?"

She felt flustered, but managed to reply. "It's a day I'll never
forget, Sir."

---

The End