The BLTS Archive - Ghosties
first in the Ghosties & Goblins series
 by R Schultz (cousindream@aol.com)

---

Warning! This story contains TrekSmut, which means no one under legal
age in the USA may read it. Neither may those living in a locale or
country which prohibits TrekSmut. So, go away, y'all.

Disclaimer: All Trek belongs to Paramount/ViaBorgCom, who do not
deserve it. This story mine under Berne Copyright Laws, 7,200 words
long. Written October, 2002, for the FFF.

Written for the FFF and archived at the ASCEM. Others may archive, but
I'd appreciate notification.

---

The sheer panicked pain, the compression, was what I recalled most,
when later I reviewed myself.

Once, in my youth, I had almost drowned. Back when I was young, sure
of my invulnerability, and at my first Leader's Inner Circle Youth
Camp. This was more of the same. Of course, back then, I was
incredulous to discover that the immortal me could perish like any
Prole in a warrants checkline.

This time I had been quite aware of my vulnerability, but on a
rational level only. Getting my larynx crushed and understanding my
imminent death was quite a different matter on a much deeper level.
Rationality had nothing to do with the way I felt.

Panic ruled, as I hopelessly struggled for breath.

They were efficient, here, on this strange ENTERPRISE or wherever I,
we, were, I'll give them that. They had knowledge and equipment I'd
never seen in the Imperium, that was for sure. No sooner had the
Captain turned on me, and slammed the side of his hand into my throat,
than their Security was rushing into our cell to separate us and save
me. If they could.

I was a jackass, of course. I'd known of the Captain's lethal mix of
capriciousness and instability from the first day I'd seen him beamed
aboard. Yet I'd assumed I could always stay ahead of his tantrums and
his sociopathy. His paranoia was a survival trait in the Imperium's
Command levels, of course.

Because I'd spread my legs a few times for him I thought he'd treat me
a little differently than he did the other bridge staff.

Fat chance.

Lying there in that BioBed gave me lots of time to reflect on my
errors. When I realized that I wasn't going to be transmuted into a
few bags of parts for transplants, I began to notice my surroundings.
Which were pretty amazing.

They spent next to no time fixing my throat, and apart from the
inattentive guard lounging at attention, there was no one to monitor
my activities. There didn't seem to be any stasis or cold boxes of
body parts in reserve, and no one inflicted the least amount of pain
on me. They were nice to me. Wonder of wonders.

Their Chapel smiled at me, failed to threaten me, and didn't once
grope me. Not that I'd have minded the grope. We'd had fun before, and
once she'd proven to her own satisfaction who was the boss, my Chapel
could even be gentle.

Yet this Chapel didn't even carry any knives. She studied charts and
spoke affectionately, this Chapel even smiled. She did, however,
manage to evade most of my questions. Me and Scotty had already
guessed this was my ENTERPRISE, but yet it wasn't.

No one walked around with guards in tow, and the only ones armed
seemed to be Security personnel. The Beta shift Doctor, Arnie
what's-his-name, he looked to be fifteen years younger and both eyes
matched. This one had been aboard two years, and my Arnie had been
aboard less than a month. When I'd mentioned court martials and time
in the Agonizer Chamber, this Chapel acted like she'd never given any
testimony against me. So I lay back on this BioBed and observed. I
watched, but I didn't act particularly healthy. So they let me lie
here.

Some things hadn't changed any. At one point when this Nurse Chapel
was running her odd-looking medical Tricorder over my prone body, I
accidentally let the back of my hand reach under her skirt to caress
her belly. She flinched, but kept her equilibrium. She gave me the
damnedest look, but didn't back off or knock my hand away. I think
this Chapel evidently had as much of a taste for the females as mine
did.

We smiled at each other, sharing our little secret. However, she kept
her body away from my roving hands after that. Whatever she might have
shared with her Uhura, I wasn't that particular Uhura.

That had been the hardest data to swallow. That there were identical
ENTERPRISE's, not quite identical, and I was on the wrong one. Or
should that be termed the right one?

After that I pretended to doze in and out, keeping an eye on the
guard, trying to determine any patterns to his movements. Chapel
brought him a cup of tea during the long wait. Evidently lower ranks
were addressed politely and given any number of perks here. But mostly
the interval gave me a chance to reflect on the possibilities, and
listen to my .... associates.

When I smelled the copper of blood, I shifted my eyes and saw Number
One come into the sickbay. I looked at the guard, but she waved a
'no-can-do' at me in return. The rules, she always said, she couldn't
do anything for me, I had to do it myself. It always seemed so unfair
they could roam freely, but I was always under some form of real-life
restraint.

She had a nice turquoise scarf today, fresh, she looked pretty, and
feminine. She was still a Dominant Top of the first order, but she had
taken to being soft and friendly since her death.

"I see this Chapel still has those long legs,"she said, patting my
shoulder. "Whatya think, hum? Here, in this Alternate Universe, Chapel
is a cute Nurse, not a Doctor Third Class.

"Here she's courtesy and kindness. Here she's turned her back on you
twenty times, and doesn't even known what a NeuralWhip is for, or a
hand-held Agonizer." She patted my shoulder with a big grin on her
face.

"I saw the way you caressed her. She liked it a little. Looks to me
like once more you fell in the dumper and you're coming out smelling
like the proverbial Rose."

When I smelled the burning leather, I turned to find Commander
Mitchell smiling that big Country-Boy grin of his at me.

"Number one is right on,"he smiled. "I watched her, this Chapel likes
you,"he said. "She's helped fix you up, she held your hand, she didn't
once cut you. A universe of difference.

"Looks to me like you've made another conquest, Lieutenant. Gonna toss
her on this BioBed tonight and have her eight or ten times?" He was
always urging me to unleash the animal, the predator in me. Gary was a
damned agent provocateur now, just as he had been when alive.

Of course I had to admit this Chapel looked at me a little differently
once she'd caught me scoping her, sizing her up.

There was the guard, of course. He never left, but he looked bored and
distracted. I could have killed him easy, and the skinny Beta Shift
doctor as well, and even this Universe's kinder, gentler Chapel. But
to what purpose? I'd still be aboard the wrong ENTERPRISE.

I knew enough to realize I had to take this opportunity to garner
information. I also knew I was considering staying here, on the wrong
ENTERPRISE.

"Better play the almost-innocent with this one,"Number One told me
when this Chapel nurse-person came in to check on me again. Number One
smiled at the guard, sizing him up.

"Try to pump her without being too obvious about it, Na? Knowledge is
power, right? And if you can't learn anything, just try to fuck her.

"You were always ready to fuck someone, you little bitch, even when we
were sharing the same cabin. Might as well put all that experience to
work for you now."

Tonight Commander Gary Mitchell ignored me, mostly. He probably
thought I was a big girl and I could take care of myself.

The smoking bacon smell preceded Yeoman Colt. I didn't like looking at
her, she looked so normal, even now. It was kind of hard avoiding her,
though. I might try to ignore Number One and Commander Mitchell, but I
was wearing the Yeoman's right arm and hand. She'd wouldn't take
orders from me after the transplant took place, not worth a damn.

She must have been deadly cute and sexy back before the Salt Creature
on Crater's World. I'd never noticed. Gary kept a Holo of her on his
workbench in his quarters. They'd shared the Talosian experience
together, her and Number One, back before we dropped a few Lithium
Cycle Events in their sun.

Every time Yeoman Colt dropped by, my right hand itched. The skin
pigmentation matched mine, now, but I knew who'd been the donor.
McCoy, the nit-picking bastard, he'd been completely pissed because
less than half of the Yeoman had been salvageable as spare parts for
his CryBank.

Commander Mitchell smiled at Nurse Chapel when she came by again.
Always an eye for the ladies, always searching for the next step up.

The way I heard it no sooner had Mitchell polished off Captain Pike,
than the Talosians captured him for breeding stock. That didn't work
out, and after we Nova'ed their sun, the Review Board brought in Kirk
to be Captain over him instead of letting Mitchell stay Captain.
Commander Gary Mitchell was under a loyalty cloud after being a
prisoner of the Talosians. Exposed to contra-indicating disinformation
was what they always wrote on the fitness reports.

Very bad blood between Kirk and Mitchell after Mitchell had to step
out of the Captain's chair. Not only had he lost the Captaincy, he'd
wound up in the Second Mate's chair as well. Number One had stayed
Number One. Helga had managed to make THAT Command upheaval without
loss of status. It was inevitable that Commander Mitchell would have
an unfortunate mishap in the back after a decent interval. Guards or
no guards.

Scuttlebutt said Kirk and Number One had cooperated in order to pull
off that little accident. Didn't save Number One. In my humble opinion
she then knew too much, and Kirk eventually, some fine day, mentally
contrived justification for having her toasted.

Yeoman Colt sniffed at the sight of Chapel. She didn't like any Chapel
under any circumstances, and she liked even less females that went to
bed with other females. Must have come from a really Retrograde
colony. It was my luck I would be saddled with her.

"Mind you,"she said, "I don't approve of your deviancy, but it strikes
me as a positive measure if you were to explore the possibility of
staying in this universe.

"Especially since the Captain has already attempted to assassinate
you. He'll reinforce his actions and negative feelings until it seems
a rational course of action for him to get you turned into spare
parts, and to hell whether or not you're useful to him.

"You go back to the Imperium with him, McCoy, and Scotty, and you'll
become donor segments before you can say 'Help!' Staying here seems
your only viable option, Na?"

"How might she accomplish that?"Commander Mitchell asked.

"Obviously by engaging in yet another unnatural relationship, this
time with this universe's Chapel,"the Yeoman stated.

Number One bent to lick my chin, and nodded in the direction of the
part of Sickbay this Nurse Chapel had disappeared into.

"Unnatural relationships suits you, my love. Not only that, it sounds
like your only viable option,"she said. "You'll need help from
someone. Or would you care to try seducing Commander Spock? Not very
likely, Na? Then Chapel it is.

"It's either get her on your side or off you go back to the real
ENTERPRISE. It'll become the Die Vonnisdag Masjien, the Death machine,
for you, my little faithless Khaffir."

Number One had always thrown in those Afrikaans phrases when talking
to me. She'd still been trying to work her way through her damned
possessive love of me and her damned racism when I .... she died. For
that matter so was I. We never had resolved our mutual lust and our
mutual distaste. It'd made for some hot nights, though.

When she wasn't beating on me for a little sleeping around. I ask you,
what was a woman to do, if she wanted advancement in the Empire? Rely
on positive fitness reports? Fat chance, and Number One knew it. To
get to her position, she'd probably known more males than an Orion
bordello ship.

Being Number One's woman was always like dancing blindfolded through a
minefield. Yet, at nights, I still missed her lanky warmth next to
mine. I almost caressed her arm, but I knew that was impossible. And
besides, the guard might wonder why he saw me waving my hand in the
air.

Yeoman Colt sniffed her little disdain when Nurse Chapel returned.

"This is .... what? The tenth time she's been back to check on you
since you pretended to wake up? It appears this Chapel is as depraved
sexually as yourself." Sigh. "I suppose you might as well begin
weaving your debauched net of sin now as later." With that she walked
away through the bulkhead wall. She wouldn't want to stand around and
watch. Not this possible seduction.

Commander Mitchell, however, sat down on the next BioBed. He always
was a voyeur, amongst his other quirks. Helga -- Number One -- gave
him the finger, to which he smiled more broadly.

My ex-lover settled herself on the side of my BioBed. She was a voyeur
as well. Even if she said she was studying technique.

It was almost too easy.

I touched here, touched there, held Chapel's hand for a second, and
suggested the guard might as well stand guard in the corridor. They
locked down my feet in restraints, and had already signatured the
scalpels and other cupboards to the Doctor's thumb.

Chapel brought me some tea, real Terran. Black, hot green Chinese, the
way I liked it. Two sugars, real, not subs. My sweet tooth accepted
the small favor and immediately complained how it had been weeks since
my last Chocolate.

"Does this ENTERPRISE's Uhura drink hers this way?" Chapel nodded a
wry yes. She knew details like that about this ship's Uhura. She also
let me caress her hand as she gave me the cup. She traced my chin with
a stray finger. Suddenly this wasn't just another maneuver. The touch
felt good.

I'd always had a weak feeling whenever my Chapel was in one of her
affectionate moods, when she'd been all touches and kisses, for a
change. I'd wanted her to be my new Top, she always reminded me of
Number One. It was the pain and sarcasm I had trouble dealing with.

"Nurse .... you know I like women, don't you?"

"In what way, Lieutenant?" Teasing.

"I take them to bed and have sex with them,"I explained. "But the
thing I most accomplish with women, is that I fall in love with them.
Have you ever been in love, Nurse Chapel?"

"Yes,"she smiled. "I've been in love with a few good men. It hasn't
worked out very well, though."

She'd just told me she was bisexual in this universe.

Carefully now.... "Do you love Uhura Nyota?"I asked. By the stricken
cloud that filmed her eyes for an instant, I knew something more
important.

"Your Uhura doesn't love women, does she?"I guessed. I carefully laid
a few finger tips on her hand and placed it on my hip. "You've fallen
for a straight girl, haven't you?

"It's okay, believe me, it's okay. I've done the same thing. Fallen
for a straight gal.

"In my ENTERPRISE I'm an on-again, off-again lover of my Chapel. My
Chapel is a ring-tailed bitch, but she's still my lover, at times, and
she's saved my ass and my sanity more than once.

"I owe her a lot, even if she's been impossible to live with on more
than one occasion.

"She's a very good lover, when she isn't being terrible. She can't let
herself love, she's afraid of being thought weak, but still she can
reach out and love me as well as have sex with me.

"She's a very special person to me." When she's sane.

"Are you a good lover of women? I'd like it very much if you were to
show me how good...."

Touchings, caresses, I kissed the palm of her hand, I tried to be
gentle. Then she said; "I've never done it with a woman before. I've
wanted to do it with Uhura, I've wanted to do it with her for the
longest time, but I'm.... I've never done this...."

Oh damn!

I stifled a laugh, and Chapel caught me. I held her hand when she
became red in the face, trying to apologize.

"Please,"I begged. "Forgive me, it just came out that way, as a laugh.
I've never had a virgin before. I think it's terribly cute and
appealing."

"I'm not a virgin!"she spat.

"You are in this way...."I crooned. Then my hand let go of hers, so
that it might find her hip and belly and groin area.

"It turns me on. It turns me on a LOT, Christine. You're still
Christine in this universe, on this ship, aren't you? I loved that
name, when I first heard it in connection with you. With my Chapel.

"You reminded me of my last lover, loved one, my last woman.

"Most of my women have been cauks, Caucasians. I like blondes, have
for more years than I care to remember.

"My Chapel is a natural blond, and she has a pussy mound like silk.
Are you blond, Christine? Does your mound feel like a thick delicate
scarf of softest silk?"

Massaging her through her panties and hose. Knowing I was getting
hotter and hotter, doing this. Doing her with a guard on the other
side of a door. Seeing the fire in her face, feeling the quivering of
her as I traced her cleft with my thumb knuckle.

Doing all this while still confined to a BioBed wasn't all that easy.
But hearing her breath quicken, seeing the flush on her cheeks and
throat, feeling how wet she already was, right through her clothes she
felt slick and ready.

If I could throw her on a nice bed, even this BioBed, I'd go out of my
mind.

A virgin Christine, a gentle Christine, a soft feminine Christine
instead of the sadistic Dom butch who used to slice my nipples with
her knives. A Christine waiting to open to me and my tongue and my
hands and my love.

I could love this one.

I looked down at her groin as my shaking hand wormed it's way between
her clothes and her exciting quim. The scent of excited woman hit my
nostrils like a physical blow, prompting my mouth to water, and my own
pussy to flood. My other hand confirmed my own steamy flow, and I now
heard sloppy sexy wet noises from both seeping female cunts.
Christine's and mine.

"You feel fantastic,"I told this soft giving Christine. "You have the
most delectable fuzzy little pussy, Christine, you always have.

"I love to eat my Christine. I bet I'd die if I could eat yours.

"My Christine tastes so clear and clean, she doesn't eat meat. She
tastes like only slightly oily nectar of the Greek Goddesses. Do you
eat meat, Christine?"

"Only a few men,"she stuttered. "And even then it's been soooo
long...."

"Then bring that solid cute little ass of yours closer, doll. I'm
about to give your first woman come.

"After that you can tell me if you liked it. If you don't like it,
I'll never touch you again."

"Uuhuuurraaa..."

I moved her until she was facing me and her hip was up on the BioBed.
I moved her clothes down her hips and began sticking fingers where
they would do the most good. Using Yeoman Colt's hand. Yeoman Colt
wouldn't like that. Well, damn her to hell for a prude.

Christine was SOOOO wet, she sounded so suckey and obscene as my
fingers worked her soaked clit and big red lips and snickery sounding
cunt and then I twisted my first finger into her.

Before I could start a good fucking rhythm, Christine draped herself
against me, hard. She hurt my shoulder and waist as she welded herself
to me. Jerking, crying tears, convulsing, wriggling, shaking.

I felt her soak my hand, I know she must have stained her panties and
hose, I felt fluid drip off my knuckle and finger joints. She came for
me.

I felt as if I were a burning bush, myself.

As Christine began to slack off, I forced her hand into my own
panties, under my hospital gown, the BioBed blanket to the side.

"Please, Christine,"I begged her. "Please, please, please, I need you.
I need you NOW...."

Not knowing what to do, she let me force her hand to rub me, to
masturbate me. I was so damned hot, I only needed to get my clit
rubbed a quarter or less of the time by her frozen hand for me to
stiffen and cry out in my come. I threw my fist in my mouth, knowing I
dared not be loud in my climax.

For three or four minutes we stayed frozen like that. Christine's
clothes were part way down her thighs, me with my hand hurting
Christine's hand as I kept it tightly against my wet hairy mound.
Hell, she'd only managed to even touch my clit a few times, but it was
enough to get me off.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love
you...."Christine repeated time and again.

"I love you, babe,"I whispered in her ear. And it was true.

I'd never stopped loving Christine Chapel, and this Christine Chapel
was several orders of desirability hotter and nicer and sweeter and
hotter and cuter and oh my. I think I WAS in love.

"Get your clothes off, sweet darling, no, not all of them, just those
damned panties and boots and hose.

"Then I want you to crawl on top of me on this bed and fit that
gorgeous little fuzzy-haired pussy to my face and get your first ever
real lesbian loving.

"That thing with the fingers, I'm going to consider to just being the
warming-up cycle. The real cooking cycle is about to begin."

When she was on her knees, straddling my body, I stopped her for a
second, then motioned for her to bring her delightful cunt closer to
my face. I wanted to give it a really intense and loving inspection.

"You have the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen,"I told her. If it
was an exaggeration, I couldn't ever remember seeing a prettier one.
So it had to be the truth.

"Please,"I begged. "Place that beautiful pussy on my mouth and let me
take you into heaven.

"Let me be the Angelic guide who takes you through the pearly
gates...."

Drool ran down my chin as she carefully (if clumsily) positioned her
heavily scented paradise upon my face....

We both moaned as the first contact took place.

----

We were all waiting for Christine when she returned. I had a feeling
we would not have a lot of time together before some sort of a
decision or crises occurred. We had to do something and do it NOW.

"Well?", I asked. "What did Commander Spock say?"

Christine could hardly restrain herself, it was obvious the interim
Captain had decided in the affirmative. I could be kept apart from the
other prisoners, and I could be left in his Nurse Chapel's care.

He would even consider letting me stay on this ship in this universe.

Number One rubbed my arm and caressed my hand in my lap. Even Yeoman
Colt appeared pleased. Commander Mitchell had long ago stated he was
in favor of staying on this ENTERPRISE. Anything that'd cause
difficulty for Kirk he was in favor of, and losing me would be another
black mark in his service records.

A cloud passed over Christine's face as she told me the good news.

"And the bad news?"I asked.

"He's not sure you're worthy of my trust, and said you must undergo a
mind meld. He must determine your sincerity before he'd even consider
leaving you aboard this vessel in this universe.

"Have you had any experience with the Vulcan mind-meld aboard your own
Imperial ENTERPRISE? It's dangerous, and painful, and might take some
time to accomplish."

Oh yes, I knew what a mind-meld was. The Changeling had discovered it,
much to it's regret. So had the Horta, and Doctor van Gelder.

A mindmeld. I think my face went white, as impossible as that might
sound. The bottom fell out of my stomach. Spock would know me, after
the mild-meld. He would know all my secrets, all my sins, all my
errors, all my scars and fears.

He would know all about Yeoman Colt. And Number One. And Commander
Gary Mitchell. How they died and who killed them.

---

"You may leave us now,"Commander Spock said to my faithful dog, my
guard. I heard the cabin door slide shut, but my eyes were already
riveted on the male who would soon know more about me than any other
male ever had.

It had been commendable for the Vulcan to receive me so quickly.
Remarkable for him to have accepted Chapel's recommendations so
easily.

He and this Chapel must share a great deal of trust, in this universe.
If I can stay here, I might some day learn all about trust. That
scared me most. The concept that I might lay myself defenseless before
someone else.

There weren't many preliminaries to the mind meld process, I
discovered. For the most part it consisted of quieting my case of
nerves and easing us into a mutually cooperative mood. He was quite
rational about it all. If I was cooperating and willing, the process
might even be painless. If I were unwilling and hostile, he would
suffer for days afterwards. And it wouldn't be a pleasure for me
either.

He told me all this, letting me deliberately brace myself to be open
and willing. He and I both knew I could never become completely open.
Non-hostile would be acceptable in lieu of trust and loving.

He talked to me, he talked to me, he had those damned scented candles
burning, and he called the lights down into a twilight gentleness. All
the harsh edges of the universe seemed to go away, and we both eased
into a mood of wary experimentation.

He kept touching my face, I allowed it, and he talked to me and he
talked to me and he talked to me and....

"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...." Those hands
seemed to .... so gentle, fearful, large, sinking through my skin and
skull and I felt his touch in....

There was feedback as he .... we .... us .... the ....

He continued to speak to me as we sank together. He praised me for my
cooperation, he said I had such a strong and fearing and marveling
mind and I could feel for the first time the borders of the Galaxy and
he said I was doing so good and I was relaxing and it was becoming
sooooo easy for me to be us....

I'd first heard how slushy and liquid my heart beat was years ago. It
was such a moment now as I carefully slowed my heart until it only
beat once or twice in a minute. Spock touched my hand and shook his
head at my soul, smiling at my childishness and lifted my mind from my
heart and touched it to return it to it's usual fluidic pumping....

We died. We lived. We died. We were reborn.

I introduced him to Commander Mitchell, all smiles and boyish charm. I
told Commander Spock of the time he had Petty Officer Palt transported
to a point above the surface of an M-class planet, wired for sound,
and listened to his screams as he fell eighty five kilometers. Thus
perished would-be assassins.

Number One shook his hand reluctantly. Yeoman Colt was skittish and
shy when introduced, and flushed pink when Spock bent low and kissed
her knuckles.

My progenitor, the nobleman from the L'Wanda Bantisi Empire slapped
him on his forearm, recognizing the warrior qualities in the Vulcan,
and my child me let him touch her fingertip before she scurried back
within the magical circle of my GrandMaMa's strong arms.

He took me to a jungle glade, where he stripped my clothes off,
without lust or hurry. He guided me into the stream, ignoring the
wetness of his own immersed clothing. He cupped cold water and bathed
my head and hair in it, handful after handful. By this ritual he
washed me clean of the blood of Commander Mitchell, and Number One,
and Yeoman Colt.

Spock bent my head back and cupped more water in his hands, letting
the cold water wash away my tears and the dark stains left by the
passing-through of other lives. It was peaceful there, in that glade,
though not quiet. No forest ever is, not if you listen carefully. The
stream burbled questions and forgiveness at me. Poisonous snakes
writhed across the surface, but did not come neigh me.

Commander Mitchell took the clothes from Yeoman Colt, and they made
the beast with two backs on the bank of my stream. Number One smiled
at me, laid down, and went to sleep in the long grass. The light moved
across the grass as the day waned.

A dark and shambling beast parted the brush on the opposite bank,
gazing at me with malevolent eyes. It stared at the giggling coupling
of the naked Commander and Yeoman, then returned to the darkness from
which he spewed.

Spock left me for an hour while I dangled my thighs in the cold
stream, thinking. Wondering. Searching for solidity in my life.
Dreaming, seeing so many of my past's so clearly, so foggily, so much
with a sense of rediscovery. When he came back to the glade, he was
dry, and beckoned me with a hand. I did not want to go, and ignored
his out-stretched hand for long minutes. His formidable strength
helped lift me from the waters, my skin shivering in the sudden warm
air.

"We must,"he said. I rose in my nakedness, wondering if he enjoyed the
black-skinned beauty he saw. Vulcans do not think as we do. Spock ran
his strong hands over my many scars, including the ones inside me, and
made no judgments on me, none whatsoever.

The sun was down behind the trees by now, and we turned around and we
sat down in his cabin and he placed his Vulcan hands on my head and I
shed tears when he lifted his hands from me.

I bent my head to cry into my sleeve, and he let me. After a while I
lifted my eyes to see his own troubled ones. We both knew pain, we
both felt a sense of loss, and I now knew why Vulcans did not casually
engage in mind to mind contact. I knew now why it hurt so much. I
could not for a nano-second imagine what levels of hell an unwilling
mind must experience.

I clung to him as a second round of crying overtook me, and he allowed
it. At that moment he was just another male, and one I could lean
against in my hour of need.

Less than two minutes had passed in the actual mind-meld.

Spock personally escorted me back to sickbay and Nurse Chapel. The
guard following, confused and hesitant. Spock left me on the BioBed,
with Christine holding me and the guard outside.

Without asking I knew Spock had agreed to let me stay on his
ENTERPRISE. How was another matter.

---

There were the fourteen of us in the Transporter Room, making it a
touch crowded. Five guards with drawn phasers. Spock and Lt. Kyle. My
Imperial Kirk, McCoy, Scotty and me. And Commander Mitchell, Number
One and Yeoman Colt. No one noticed it was crowded but me.

My McCoy was distracted, and I bet myself someone would be translated
into Spare Parts tonight.

Scotty was pensive, and it struck me that he was worried about his
precious triply-damned engines and not about himself or the Empire.

The engines were his little sanctuary. He lived with his engines and
he could then ignore the rest of the Empire. He wasn't a threat to
anyone else, and no one worried about him. That was his survival
strategy. Bury his head in the sand of his goddamned engines and the
rest of the universe be damned.

My Captain Kirk was all apologies and solicitous inquiries. He was
sorry for his fit of temper when he'd crushed my larynx. He promised
he'd make it up to me when we got back on the Imperial ENTERPRISE.
We'd all been told that was where we were going.

Kirk touched me, caressed me, whispered that he and his woman,
Marlena, would like to have a little fun tonight and it would be best
if I were to join in a little threesome. He could call in both of his
guards and I could have them as well. And wouldn't I like that?

I realized who it was McCoy would probably get to cut into little
pieces. Come morning and it would be me.

The theories of this universe's Scotty had better be right. This Spock
appeared totally oblivious to doubts or questions.

Kyle worked the Transporter and Spock helped him. Our guards kept
phasers leveled at us, and ignored Kirk and his threats and his
bragging. Then came the wobbly feeling as the universe went silver
dusty....

Immediately the universe solidified and I had to close my eyes. Was I
in my universe or the other? My other?

"Lt. Uhura?"

It was Lt. Kyle and he lacked the trimmings and dagger and medals of
an officer of the Imperium. This was not the Imperial Lt. Kyle. This
was not the sociopathic Lt. Kyle. I closed my eyes again and breathed
a tremendous sigh of relief. Lt. Kyle touched my arm while Commander
Mitchell, Number One and Yeoman Colt clapped and cheered.

"Are you okay?"he asked. "I've never held anything in the pattern
buffer before. I'm still utterly amazed that Commander Scott's
theories were applicable to a working transporter. Do you feel okay?
You're sure?

"Commander Spock said I was to escort you to Nurse Chapel's quarters
now. If you're okay, that is.

"You ARE okay, yes?"

It was hard accepting the friendly touch of a man who in my universe
kept a meat cleaver in the small of his back.

He had a large loose brown and rust Khaftan for me to slip over my
uniform. With it on, we became just another two members of the crew,
walking the calm corridors of the safe ENTERPRISE. I had a start when
Petty Officer Maszererdle touched my hand and expressed sympathy for
my ordeal in the other universe. She had lost two fingers to Lt.
Kyle's meat cleaver and transferred to some planet's Army of
Occupation almost a year ago.

There were some things worst than an hour in the Agonizer Booth.

The cabin's door opened, Chapel was there, and Lt. Kyle murmured
something, and this sweet Chapel took my hand and pulled me inside.
Believe it or not, but I wasn't expecting to be held tight and given a
long kiss by this lean loving blond. I was working on automatic only
at this time. Not daring to believe I'd gotten away from hell.

Then I realized where I was, and whose breasts pushed against mine,
whose hands roamed my back, whose thigh fitted between my own.

I had come home for the first time in thirty years.

"Dear?"Chapel whispered in my ear.

Dear. When was the last time anyone had addressed me in that way? This
was a place where words like darling and sweetheart could be used
without fear of appearing weak and vulnerable.

We began to kiss, and as we kissed, I began the ritual of removing our
clothes. Christine shook like a leaf in a strong wind, and my knees
felt weak as we tried to remove clothing at the same time our hands
raced across the other's body.

Dear. Darling. Sweetheart. Love.

---

I leaned against the corridor walls, feeling giddy and light headed.
Crewmen passed me by, some recognizing me as the alternate Uhura. Some
spoke kind or meaningless words, or both at the same time. A blocky
brown-skinned man engaged me in a little conversation, and we both
recognized the initial moves in a possible seduction scenario.


Number One sniffed her disdain at him, but I smiled inside. I might
not be bedding him, or any other man, but a girl has to feel better
knowing someone is paying attention to her. Yeoman Colt liked the
Engine Tech, and Commander Mitchell was not happy to see her interest.

Who'd have ever thought figments of imagination could be jealous?

It felt delicious to close my eyes without wondering who might be
sneaking up on me, or who might have ulterior motives in approaching
me. The male-female dance didn't even begin to count as an ulterior
motive. Not after the Imperium.

Lt. Sulu came hurrying by, stopping for a second to see if I was okay.
I could like this Sulu. I'd heard he did guys too, but if it wasn't
for my commitment to Christine, I told myself it wouldn't be so hard
to get him interested.

That'd be something. Bedding Sulu and coming out the other end still
alive and in one piece.

I hummed a little song, feeling confident despite this ENTERPRISE's
Captain Kirk. He was honest and forthright, things I was still
surprised to discover in ANY Kirk.

I'd never be part of his Starfleet, was his opinion. And he already
had an Uhura he was happy with and trusted. But he'd keep me aboard
until he could deposit me on a Fleet vessel heading back towards
Terra.

HQ would want to dissect me for months on end, was his opinion.
Naturally I about jumped out of my skin. He caught that, it was hard
not to, and I had to explain about the organ transplant program on the
Imperial ENTERPRISE. He didn't care for that, but it was just another
facet of a life he had escaped from. And now I, too, had escaped from.

He recommended cooperation with the Fleet Powers That Be, and surmised
I could come out of the interrogations with a great deal of goodwill
and a few recommendations from Starfleet.

There were more openings I could fill in many a trading or
interstellar ship line than I could easily grasp.

Speaking frankly, he had sighed to think of losing Christine Chapel.
If Christine left the ENTERPRISE, she had enough time in grade and
medical skills so that she could probably settle down on the planet of
her choice.

He also didn't much like the thought of anyone he knew becoming a
lesbian, but it wasn't something he felt able to change. The Alpha
male in him disliked women who failed to find him irresistible. I
already knew Kirk would be unable to grasp the notion that Christine
hadn't become a lesbian. She already was a lesbian, or bi, and now she
knew it.

All in all this Captain Kirk was faintly distracted and gentle. This
Kirk was also perpetually seeing the forests before him. He felt only
part of him should be bound to the more petty universe of his ship. He
saw the Stars as his own holy grail. He didn't want to do anything but
what he was doing right now. His entire life was bound up in these
voyages of discovery.

He would die by millimeters, some day in the future, when he was
subjected to a desk job.

I would miss Spock, when I left this ship. We had been, after all,
closer than most lovers become.

I hurried my steps as I neared Christine's cabin. My thighs burned to
feel her touch, my breasts needed to be suckled by her gentle but
determined mouth. I sang the song of Christine in my heart. I couldn't
remember ever having a gentle lover before.

Uhura came out of her cabin.

The other Uhura. I immediately knew what had happened, of course.
She'd just been in Christine's bed, Christine's arms.

I stared into this Uhura's eyes and saw the new fever that had
overtaken her. I stared into those suddenly guilty eyes and felt very
stupid.

The cabin door opened for me, it had been keyed to me for .... only a
few score of hours? It seemed like forever, it seemed like seconds.

We, both of us Uhura's, we were alike, after all. If I liked women as
bed mates, she probably did too. She might not have previously
acknowledged the fact, but she liked other women.

Christine had somehow now acquired the courage to approach the woman
she REALLY loved. This ship's Uhura. And unlocked the hidden lesbian
in my gentler counterpart.

All this Uhura needed was the right spark, the right woman, and she
would gladly give herself to a lover of the same sex as herself. It
was inevitable, really.

When these two met for the first time as lovers, the walls should have
melted.

The cabin door opened for me, it had been keyed to me for .... only a
few score of hours? It seemed like forever, it seemed like seconds.

Christine sat up in her bunk, a hand tentatively reaching out to me. I
ignored the gesture and the hand.

I giggled, unable to accept the mental sight of a naked Christine in
bed with a naked Uhura. Not myself. The other me.

I had been supplanted by the 'real' Uhura.

In this universe all these two women had needed was for one or both to
acknowledge their lesbian sexuality, and the other must, MUST follow.

I wonder if Christine or Uhura had made the first move in this
particular dance?

It didn't matter. Nothing much mattered.

I retreated out the door, pausing to think on how to acquire a cabin
of my own, now. I'd ask Kirk or Spock. They'd get me guest quarters,
until I could be transferred off the ship.

Already I didn't belong here. Yeoman Colt kneaded one shoulder, and
Commander Mitchell kneaded the other. Number One took my hand,
directing me to move on. Get a cabin , begin my new life. Leave.
Arrive. Live. There was an entire new universe out there, waiting for
me. And we'd be together.

Just the four of us.

---

continued in the second story in the Ghosties & Goblins series 'Goblins'