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Date: Fri, 16 Jul 2004 11:03:44 -0400
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS Commander [R] 1/5 K/Ch, ChFF
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TITLE: Commander
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com   http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: R
CODES: K/Ch, Chapel Fic Fest
PART: 1/5
DISCLAIMERS: Paramount and Viacom own these characters--I'm just
warping canon.
SUMMARY: Sequel to "Scientist." The continuing look at Chapel through


Christine begins to search through the available video on the
screen, trying hard to ignore how her hand is shaking as she looks
for shots of the Enterprise coming home.  She can't find the right
channel, begins to poke at the screen with increasing force.

"It's here, Commander," Rasmussen says as he reaches around her,
punching in the right number.  The science officer moves away again
quickly.

"Thank you," she whispers to his back, then turns back to the
screen, where the Enterprise is captured as it sits in Spacedock.
She is a far cry from the glistening ship that left orbit with a
class of cadets.  She is a hurt Enterprise--but not so hurt as her
captain, who has lost his best friend.  Not so hurt as her dead
first officer.  Christine feels the pain rise up again, filling her
with a combination of grief and guilt.  Spock--her friend too--is
dead.  And she suspects it is her fault.

She doesn't know for sure because the brass are being very
tightlipped, and even Emergency Ops personnel are finding it hard to
determine what happened.  But that's telling in its own way.  If
it's that sensitive, it can only be about one thing: Genesis.

The project she let ruin what she had with Jim.  The project she
sold her soul to.  The project that just may have killed Spock.

Janice comes back into Ops, walking slowly.  She sighs as she gets
closer to the station Christine is sitting at.

"It was bad?" Christine asks.

"It was worse than bad.  The ship--I understand now why they're not
sending her out again."

Christine wonders if Jim knows yet that the Enterprise is being
mothballed.  His ship.  His love.  Turned out to pasture.

She brought him back from retirement for this?

"Nyota sends her love," Janice says.

Janice went up to Spacedock to watch the ship come in.   Used her
lunch and then some to wait for their friends to appear, but
Christine doesn't care.  One of them had to watch everyone--or
almost everyone--come safely home.  And Christine suspects she
wouldn't have been very welcome.

"Did you see him?"

Janice nods, turning away quickly.

Christine reaches out, stops her progress.  "What?"

"He's devastated."  There is still an oddly evasive look in Janice's
eyes.

"Jan, what are you hiding?"  When her friend tries to turn away
again, she says.  "Tell me."

"He wasn't alone, Christine.  When he came out.  He was with this
blonde.  They looked...comfortable together."

Christine sighs.  A new woman?  She stole him back from Antonia only
to lose him to another woman?

"He introduced her as Doctor Marcus."

Christine turns slowly, not able to believe what she is hearing.
She hasn't told Jan the long, terrible saga.  Has alluded to what
went on, that she betrayed Jim by keeping something a secret from
him, but she has left out all the crucial details.

Like the name of the woman who set her up, who made sure Jim found
out exactly how much he'd been lied to.  She can feel her resentment
toward the woman turning into a fiery hatred.  She thought Carol
outed her for the sake of the project, but what if she really just
wanted Jim back?

And now, courtesy of Christine, he is free of Antonia and ready for
Carol to make her move.

She wonders who she can ask about this.  In the past, she would have
asked Spock, but--

No, not Spock.

Len then.  He will know.  He always knows.  "Was Len with them?"

Janice frowns.  "You know, I didn't see him."

Christine turns to the screen, does a quick search.  "Oh no."

Leaning in over her, Janice reads the report from the logs Jim has
transferred to Command.  "Erratic behavior and collapse?"

Christine pushes away from the terminal.  "I'll be at Medical."  At
Janice's nod, she hurries out of Ops and down the maze of corridors
that will take her to the connector wing.  Command is confusing, but
she knows the twists and turns of the building by heart.

Medical is busy, and she slips by the reception desk.  She still
wears a small caduceus near her collar, is still authorized access
to the area--but it is customary to check in first.

She doesn't give a rat's ass what is customary.  Not now.  Not when
Spock is dead.  Not when Jim might be rediscovering the mother of
his son--how the hell can he be doing that when Spock is dead and
something is wrong with Len?

She turns the corner and careens into someone.  Whoever it is
reaches out to steady her, and her hands come up to briefly rest on
his chest as she tries not to fall.

"Chris."  Jim lets go of her immediately, backs away.  Looking
behind him at one of the private rooms, he says, "I guess you heard
about Len?"

She nods.  "I was coming to check on him."

"That would be good."  His voice is strained, almost inhumanly so.
As if he's being pushed beyond his ability to bounce back. As if
this is the last of a long line of blows.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.  "Spock..."  Anything she could say will
be the wrong thing so she says nothing.

"He gave his life for the ship.  We live because he doesn't."  He
brushes at his eyes, rubbing them hard.

She wants to pull his hands down, wants to hold him close.  She
resists the urge.

"Come on."  He walks into the room, not even checking to see if she
is following, which she is of course.

On a good day, she would follow him anywhere.  With him looking so
close to breaking, she would follow him into hell if it meant she
could keep him safe.

Walking to the end of the bed, she studies the panel that charts
Len's progress.  He's only been in the room for a short time yet
they have plenty of data to study.  It's one of the ironies of
modern medicine--you can have data up the yin yang, and still know
nothing about what is wrong with someone.  There is nothing in Len's
chart to indicate why he might be behaving oddly.  The only
exceptional readings are some elevated neurotransmitter levels.  And
those could be from the stress of what he and Jim and the others
have gone through.

She sits down by the bed, watching as Len moves restlessly before
looking at the attending physician's notes.  He's going to release
Len, let him sleep in his own place, far from the controlled chaos
that is a hospital.  It's what she would do too.

"Is he going to be all right?"  Jim has moved to the window, is
staring out at the bay.

"I don't know."

He doesn't say anything, and Christine begins to feel out of place.
She wonders where Carol is.  Have she and Jim parted ways?  Was what
Jan saw just a friendly goodbye?  Or will Carol walk into this room
eventually and make the moment even more difficult?

Len mumbles something, and for one moment his voice sounds eerily
like Spock's.

Jim turns, and she sees him wince.  Then he looks over at her.  His
eyes are filled with some kind of dark hopelessness, then they fill
with something new.  Or old rather.  The old anger he has toward her.

"You don't have to stay, Commander.  I know you're busy."  He turns
back to the view.

She watches him for a moment, wanting nothing more than to reach out
for him, to hold him and tell him it will be all right.  Even if it
won't.

She wants to lie to him.  She wants to comfort him.  She knows that
comfort from her is the last thing he'll want right now.  And he's
had more than enough of her lies.

Sighing, she leaves him alone.  Because he's right, she is busy.

And she knows when she's not wanted.

---------------------------

She watches the big screen, sits stunned as the Enterprise
approaches the still-closed Spacedock doors.

Jim is stealing his ship back.  Jim has clearly lost his mind.

She finds herself rooting for him anyway.

"Open," she mutters.  "Open."

The doors open just in time, and the ship heads out.

Jim is gone.  She imagines he has taken Len with him.  The strange
Len who looked at her with such disconcerting intensity the last
time she went to check on him and asked her if she would like to
play Ka'Vareth.

She's not sure what the hell Jim is doing.  But she hopes to god it
helps.

"Excelsior will get her," she hears someone say.  "Styles will have
a thing or two to say about this."

"Yeah," someone calls back, "but will anyone understand him?"

The room erupts in laughter.  None of them like Styles.  Or his
stupid riding crop.  Christine wishes Janice wasn't off duty--her
friend would enjoy that it is Jim who is making Styles look like a
fool.  Normally, he just looks like a pompous ass.

Matthew turns to look at her, shaking his head and barely hiding the
grin on his face.  "Jim is one crazy damn coot."

She grins at him.  "You have only yourself to blame for luring him
back."

"Don't think I haven't thought of that."  He sits down next to her,
watches as Excelsior moves forward, no doubt preparing for warp.
The grand ship makes her move--if jerking slightly then floating
dead in space can be considered much of a move.  "Sabotage?"

"I imagine, if you were to check, Mister Scott would be
conspicuously absent from Styles's crew."

Matthew laughs.  "Well, I think I won't check then."  He
sighs.  "What do you suppose Jim's up to?"

"I'm not sure. But whatever it is, I'm sure he thinks it is life or
death."  She remembers Len's voice, deeper, more gravelly than
usual, and sounding so much like Spock's it sent shivers down her
spine.

"I just hope he knows what he's doing."

"Me too."   She leans back.  "Styles is going to be on a tear."

"Oh, no doubt."  Shaking his head, Matthew gets up.  "We should
forward deploy that man to the Klingon Empire.  It would bring them
down in months rather than years."

She laughs.  Being suitable for extended duty on Q'onos is the worst
insult Matthew can give.  She turns back to her terminal.

"You know, if you're never going to sit in your office, you're going
to lose it.  Space is at a premium."

She likes being in the thick of things.  Feels a bit disconnected
inside the office she inherited from Commander Reed.  And it's not
like Matthew doesn't spend his share of time loitering in the main
area.  "You're just jealous that you don't have a station out here."

"Maybe so, Christine.  Maybe so."  He looks up at the big screen
again.  "I just wish I knew what he was up to."

A security alert runs across her screen.  Other ships are being
scrambled.  "Do you think they'll catch him?"

Matthew looks at her as if she's crazy.  "Jim Kirk?  On his ship?
On one of his damn missions?  Not in a million years."  He
smiles.  "And it's a cinch he won't give up.  That man never
surrenders."

She remembers Jim jumping the ravine, remembers the moment he bowed
to the inevitable.  He surrendered then.  But it doesn't count.  He
was only surrendering to what he really wanted in the first place:
space...and his ship.

A comm she's been waiting for from a damage assessment team out in
the Fesayan sector comes in and she smiles.  "Business as usual."

He nods, turning away to let her read.  The news is not good.  Five
ships hit hard by an unusually wicked ion storm.  The third in as
many months.  And this time the damage seems awfully specific.  As
if the storm deliberately hit certain areas of the ship.  She sends
the comm to Rasmussen, annotates it with, "Does this strike you as
normal ion storm behavior?"

Rasmussen reads the comm then turns to her, shaking his head.  He
messages back, "I'm sending it to the Special Projects department."

She nods.  Nobody is quite sure what Special Projects does when
they're not investigating cases like this.  Christine isn't sure she
wants to know.  At any rate, a manmade storm sounds right up their
alley.

"Christine?" a soft voice purrs in her ear.

She looks up to see Uhura.  "Ny."  She points to the chair.  "Sit."

"I can't stay long," Nyota says softly, sitting down tiredly enough
to make Christine wonder what she's been up to.  "I'm bound for
Vulcan."

Christine frowns.  "Vulcan?  I don't understand. Is there going to
be a funeral after all?"

"Sort of.  Do you know much about the katra?"

Christine nods.  After all the studying she did back in her
infatuation days, she probably knows more than Ny does about the
Vulcan soul.

"Well, I'm not real clear on the details, but as I understand it,
Sarek thinks Spock gave his katra to McCoy."

Christine nods slowly.  That would explain some things.  "They're
taking him home?"

Nyota nods.  "And healing Len in the process, hopefully."

"There'll be hell to pay when this is over."  Command is not going
to look lightly on this.  But when has that ever stopped Jim?

Nyota gets up.  "I have to go.  Sarek is waiting for me."  She
touches Christine's shoulder.  "I wish you were coming with us.  I
wish you were still with Jim."

"Me too, Ny."

She watches her friend hurry out, tries not to envy her for still
being in Jim's inner circle.

It is a futile attempt.

----------------------

The wind is whipping outside the windows of Emergency Ops, rain
streaming down the glass as if someone has turned a hose on it.  The
humidity in the room has reached unbearable levels--it might as well
be raining inside too.  Calling the moisture that beads across the
terminals and makes the fabric of their chairs ooze
liquid "condensation" is like calling V'Ger a "little probe."

Christine tries to wipe off the screen, looks over to where Matthew
is conferring with the Federation President.

"May I assist you in any way?"  Sarek's voice is calm.

"You want to wipe off the monitor?  Because that's all the good I'm
really doing."  She smiles, a sad, realistic smile.  They may all be
dead soon.  But in the meantime, she'd like to read the comms while
they still flow across the screen.

Sarek sits down.   The chair sloshes as he does so, and his eyebrow
goes up as if in distaste.

"Nice digs we have here, huh?"  She laughs softly, is surprised to
see his expression lighten.

He looks down at his sodden robe.  "My appearance is also somewhat
the worse for wear."

"I'm sorry I got you into this."  She should never have called him,
never asked him to be an advocate for Jim.

"You did what you thought best.  Kirk needed someone to speak for
him, and I owed him a debt for bringing my son back to me."

"You didn't owe him your life though."  She doesn't want to think of
dying.  Not when Jim is somewhere in the past on a wild goose
chase.  Or wild whale chase.

She wonders how many women he will charm on that chase.  Too many
probably.  At least, they'll stay in the past when he brings his
oceanic bounty to the future.  How the hell do you bring a whale
home in a Klingon bird-of-prey?  She smiles, imagines Jim
saying, "Very carefully."

"He'll save us," she says softly, not sure which of them she is
trying to convince.

Sarek considers that.  "If anyone can, I think the odds favor him.
But even so, the odds are not good."

"I know.  But Jim doesn't play the odds.  He just wins."

"That has been his history."  He studies her, his scrutiny making
her slightly uncomfortable.  "He lost you, however."

She looks down.  "No. I lost him.  That's worse."

"Ah.  I am sorry.  The end of a relationship is often painful."

She is surprised at his choice of words, frowns.  "For a human, you
mean?"

"Vulcans are not incapable of feeling pain, Christine."  His voice,
as he calls her by name, is very sad.   "Perhaps if you had come to
Vulcan after the Fal-tor-Pan you might have won him back?  Kirk was,
I think, very much alone."

"Even with your son's rebirth?"  She smiles. It is the miracle story
of the century.  Spock is alive.  She wishes her guilt would die
with his resurrection.  But it hasn't.

"My son is not...himself.  The refusion was a success, and yet Spock
is different."

"I see."  She thinks of the Ka'Vareth games she and Spock have
shared, the minty Vulcan tea he taught her to enjoy.  The way he
planned Jim's recapture.  All those things, all the other things she
shared with him over the years.  Are they really all gone?

She and Sarek might be gone if Jim doesn't strike gold.  Christine
sends Amanda a silent apology for bringing her husband to Earth just
to die.  Not that she meant to. She only wanted him to testify for
Jim and the others.  His voice carries weight.  She knew the Council
would listen to him.  She would do it again if she had to.

Even if it means that he dies with her in this damn storm caused by
that damn probe.  She wishes someone would turn the sound of its
sing-song call down--or better yet off.

She glances over at Sarek.   Wonders if he is worried about who will
carry his katra home if they are all killed.  He appears serene,
composed.

Matthew walks over.  He stands behind her chair, reading the few
comms that are getting through the interference.  The damage is
getting worse.  She feels his fingers on the back of her neck,
gently squeezing.  Reaching up, she lays her hand over his, pressing
down for a long moment.  She sees that Sarek takes in their
interaction, but he does not seem surprised--or offended.

She is glad she is dying among friends.

"Is there anything I can do, Admiral?" Sarek asks.

"Send Jim Kirk some luck?"

"Vulcans do not believe in luck."

Matthew laughs.  It is a laugh tinged with exhaustion.  "Then send
him some logic, Ambassador.  I'm sure he can use that too."

Someone calls for him, and Matthew hurries to the other side of the
room.  Christine turns back to the comms, sees the screen go
black.  "So much for primary communications."  She watches as the
techs try to link into the backup system.  It does not look like
things are going any better for them than for the techs trying to
shore up the windows.

She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to relax.

"My son thought very highly of you, Christine," Sarek says out of
the blue.  It is a surprising statement, almost a gift.

They must be doomed.

She sighs.  "I think highly of him too."  Laughing slightly, she
says, "He thought I could win Jim back."

"He knows Kirk well.  Perhaps he is right."  His eyes are very
gentle.  "It is something to live for, is it not?"

"Do you think I need that?"

"Everyone needs that, Christine."  Sarek stands up.  "I think the
President could use my assistance."

She smiles.  "Thank you."

"I did nothing."

"We both know better than that."

She turns back to the black screen, glances over at Janice who is
trying to help the techs with the uplinks.  The screens wink back
into service just as a dull roar and then a loud crack fill the
room.  One of the windows shatters, rain and wind pouring in.

"Look!"  Sarek suddenly says loudly enough for them to hear over the
roar of the storm.  He points out through the murk.  Vulcan eyes
must be as sharp as that famous hearing.

She sees a bird-of-prey roar toward the bridge.  "Lower," she sends
to whoever is piloting her.  "Lower."

The ship drops just enough to clear the bridge, then crashes in the
water.  She can't see anything as the storm seems to intensify.

Then it stops.

The silence is eerie.  She can hear the ping of comms coming in
again, the sound of people moving in their chairs.

She looks over at Sarek.  He nods in satisfaction.  Matthew is
grinning like a damn fool.

Janice walks past her toward her terminal.

"He did it, Jan."

Her friend laughs.  "Like there was ever any doubt?"

Christine smiles.  If there was doubt, there shouldn't have been.
This is Jim Kirk.  He saves the day.  Every time.  And lives to tell
the tale.  Or lives to let others tell it for him.  He doesn't like
to blow his own horn.

It's just one reason why he's a hero.

-------------------------

Christine steps away from her friends, glances over at Gillian.  She
wants to hate this woman that hitchhiked back with Jim, but she's
finding it difficult to.  She's too full of energy and good-natured
awe. Christine doesn't want to imagine what Jim might see when he
looks at Gillian.

Gillian looks over at her.  "It was nice meeting you, Christine."

"Good luck catching up."

The woman makes a face and fingers the badge on her clothes.  She'll
be gone soon.  The thought makes Christine both sad and happy.  She
thinks she could have enjoyed Gillian's company.  She worries Jim
might already be enjoying it.

As Gillian walks away, toward Jim who seems to be looking for her,
Christine sighs.

"Don't worry.  I told her he was spoken for."

Christine turns, sees Nyota grinning madly.  "You did what?"

Uhura shrugs.  "The concept of the rebound spans the centuries,
Christine.  Gillian doesn't want that.  Was that wrong and bad of
me?"

"Yes."  Christine grins.  "And thanks."

Nyota's smile fades as she turns to Christine.  "You two belong
together.  I believe that."  She sighs.  "But I don't see that
either of you are trying particularly hard to get back together."

"It's not that simple."  Christine looks away, over to where Gillian
is brushing Jim's cheek with her lips.  He is staring at her
forlornly.  As if he can't believe she is leaving.

How much does he care about this woman?

"Not that simple?" Nyota says, shaking her head.  "He's been back in
Starfleet for months.  What are you waiting for?"

Christine tenses as Jim looks over at her.  Their eyes meet, his are
stony, still sad from Gillian's departure.  He doesn't look at all
glad to see her.  She can feel her own smile fading.

Jim appears to hate her.  Spock barely knows her, although he seemed
to be trying to remember who she was as they stood talking before
the hearing.   David is dead, killed by a Klingon in cold blood.
All her fault, somehow.  She feels the guilt as if it was a heavy
weight strapped around her neck.

At least Len is back to normal.  His hug was warm and welcoming.  No
lasting damage to him, thank god.

"Christine.  He won't wait forever."

"He's not waiting now, Ny.  I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Ops is calling?"

Christine nods.  It is an easier answer than saying her heart is
breaking with each moment she stays in the room.  With each moment
that the man she still loves pretends she is not even there.

He has not said one word to her, not even when she was standing
right next to him after the judgment was announced.

She didn't try to talk to him either.  Could see in his eyes the
message to stay away.

Far away.

She obliges him and flees with as much grace as she can.

She somehow manages not to look back.

Ops is bustling with the verdict, the wonderful punishment that
isn't any hardship.  Jim will get his ship back.  A ship that should
have had another name painted on it but at the last minute was
christened Enterprise.  Matthew told her, made her promise not to
tell Jim.

As if that would happen.  She'd have to get close to him to spill
the beans.  And it's clear that close is exactly where Jim doesn't
want her to be.

Janice comes in and wanders over.  "You okay?"

She sniffs in bitter amusement.  "Sure."

"Not very convincing."

"First Carol, now Gillian.  You think I should be clueing in to
something?  Like maybe Jim doesn't want me anymore?"

Janice sits down.  "Maybe he doesn't.  What then?"  She's not saying
it to be mean.  Just working out a scenario.   It's what they do in
ops.

Christine shrugs.  "I guess I move on."  At Janice's look, she
shakes her head.  "I know, I know.  It's what you've been telling me
to do for some time."  She looks up at the big screen.  For once,
all is quiet, nothing threatening.  "Is it okay if I don't make any
major life changes today?"

Janice squeezes her shoulder.  "It's okay if you don't make any
ever.  It's up to you to decide what you want."

"So waiting forever?  You think that's an option?"

"I don't know.  You have to figure that out.  I can't."  Giving her
a small smile, Janice goes back to her station.

Christine stares down at her comm queue, not even seeing the
messages.  Jim may never forgive her.  Is she really going to wait
forever for him?

End part 1 of 5




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