Archive of Our Own ^beta

Captains log, Stardate 1537.5

After several weeks of interstellar travel, the Enterprise has settled into orbit around Helix 3. Reports of rich metal ore deposits is the official reason for our mission, although the planet’s proximity to the Neutral Zone prompts the question: is Starfleet Intelligence more concerned about Klingons than they have been willing to admit? Regardless of the real reason, my crew is anxious to study the planet. Commander Spock has reported excitement amongst the Science department concerning the local flora and geological formations. More than mere curiosity motivates my crew, I suspect; we are still unused to deep space travel with these long periods of inactivity and routine scans. Once the planet is deemed safe, I plan to approve shore leave for any who need to stretch their legs, so to speak.

Helix 3 filled the view screen, a swirl of deep red land threaded with blue streaks of water. Almost double the size of Earth, with a corresponding gravitational pull and three satellite planets, she was a thing of beauty.

“Mr. Sulu, report.”

“Our orbit is holding steady, Captain, no degradation for the foreseeable future. Engineering reports normal energy expenditure.”

“Excellent. Commander Spock?”

“My scans indicate no harmful radiation nor signs of seismic activity. Additionally, the atmosphere appears conducive to teleportation. I have concluded there exists very little danger to the away team.” A stiff response, per usual.

“You ‘have concluded there is very little danger’? Why Ms. Spock, that sounds downright human. Do you not have a precise calculation of the danger posed on the planet?” Kirk let her lips twitch into a tiny smile.

“Indeed Captain, I have calculated a .73% chance of fatality and a 2.4% chance of injury to personnel. However, I felt these numbers were low enough to warrant a simplistic conclusion so as not to delay the mission further.”

Kirk let out a laugh, “That sounds more like you, Commander. As long as we're safe, I think we can assemble the initial team. Spock, you're with me.”

“Captain, it is my duty to remind you of away team protocol. Sending both the captain and first officer to an uncharted planet carries significant risk and therefore is highly illogical.”

“I thought there was only a 2.5% chance of injury?”

“Captain, I have noticed you have a certain propensity for exploration which would increase my initial calculations of injury an additional 1.7%”

“Why Ms. Spock,” a pout flitted across Kirk’s face, “If I didn’t know better, I'd think you were calling me reckless.”

“Then it is indeed fortunate you understand my calculations were based on your inquisitive nature and not an inability to assess danger.”

“Curiosity killed ze cat,” Chekov supplied with a barely suppressed snicker.

Kirk frowned and glanced at the alluring planet on their screen. Then a smile crept back onto her face, “Luckily being the captain means I get to make the final decision. I accept the extra 2% chance of injury.”

“1.7% increase.”

Kirk continued without pausing, “Spock, again, you're with me. We'll pick up one of your scientists along the way, and a few security officers for good measure.”

“A wise precaution, Captain.” 

Kirk glared at her first officer as they entered the turbolift, but Spock’s face was completely neutral. With a sigh, she grabbed the handle, “Laboratory.”

“Am I really that bad, Spock?”

“Captain?”

“Almost a 2% increased risk of injury on the away mission, simply with my presence. Am I really so risk-prone?”

“Captain, my intention was not to question your leadership-”

Kirk waved her hand, “Of course not, you only intended to make sound and logical recommendations for the safety of the crew. Not personal in the slightest.”
“Indeed.”

The soothing turbolift thrum cloaked their silence. Kirk opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut as the doors whooshed open, and she straightened her tunic before exiting. The two women fell into an easy synchronized stride down the bright hallway. Kirk nodded cheerfully at each crewmember who passed, officer and enlisted alike, while Spock maintained her usual composed passivity. They arrived at the Laboratory, a large series of rooms busy with whirring instruments and scientists making scrupulous notes. 

Spock stopped at one of the workstations, “Ensign Matheson, we have arrived at Helix 3. Are you prepared to depart?”

The young woman looked up with excitement, “Yes Commander, I just need to grab a few things. I can meet you in the transporter room in fifteen minutes. Did you still want to bring Lieutenant Hadley? He’s on a break but I can go get him.”

“Very well. We will depart at 1300 hours. Please ensure all equipment can be carried, as we may need to travel some distance.”

The ensign nodded and rushed off. Spock turned to face her captain and raised an eyebrow at Kirk’s frown.

“Didn’t Lieutenant Hadley almost blow up the lab last month?”

“An unfortunate accident involving acetic acid and a particularly volatile bicarbonate contained within a receptacle unsuited for the reaction. We have discussed the incident multiple times and the Lieutenant is unlikely to repeat his actions. He is particularly skilled at collecting microbial specimens without contamination and has a keen interest in xeno-mycology. Would you prefer I choose a different member of my staff?”

“No, no, as long as you trust the Lieutenant won’t jeopardize the mission, then I’m happy.” 

“Indeed, you remain the only member of the away team who increases the likelihood of injury or unfortunate outcomes.” 

“Yes, well, Ms. Spock, sometimes a little risk is good for the soul.” Kirk flashed a sweet smile at Spock, who merely lifted an eyebrow in response.

They made their way to the transporter room, joining the scientists and the security officers sent down by Chekov. 

“Energize.”

The familiar buzz of the transporters snaked its way through their bodies. Like the static of a pinched nerve quivering through each molecular bond, their flesh was dissolved and reformed on the planet below. Each member of the team began looking around in earnest. Spock began taking tricorder readings while her scientists examined the tough brush and sandy soil underfoot. The security officers remained alert, although their phasers remained holstered. Kirk observed her team for several moments before making her way towards the large rock outcropping a few dozen meters away. At a distance, the stone appeared a muted brown, interesting only in size. Up close, however, the brown separated into patches of crumbly umber interspersed with hard deposits coated in a metallic gray sheen. She lay a feather-light touch over the rock and stroked the smooth surface. Too smooth. The metallic finish came away in a slime over Kirk’s fingers, revealing a bright red spongy mass below. Kirk sniffed her fingers. It smelled like grape candy, a sickly artificial stench.

“Ms. Spock, I think there is an organism on this rock.” Kirk took one look at her first officer’s expression of incredulity and quickly added, “yes I know, 1.7%. Scotty, one to beam up.”

“Dammit Jim, how did you get Pseudomonas all over your hand? I’m giving you prophylactic antibiotics, unless you want a nasty pneumonia spreading among the crew. Luckily the colony itself isn’t going airborne.” Dr. McCoy bustled around the bio-bed preparing a hypospray and delivering a masterclass in admonition. 

“Sorry Bones, but in my defense, it looked like the ore we were sent here to find. Not some bizarre organic growth.” Kirk tried using her brilliant smile on the doctor, “I guess Spock was right about my presence increasing the risk of injury on an away mission.”

As always, McCoy appeared unperturbed by her charm. “She’s usually right about those sorts of things, Jim, even though it's damned annoying. Ah, speak of the Devil and she shall appear.”

Spock had indeed entered the Sickbay, face neutral, spine ramrod straight, hands clasped behind her back.

“Before you say ‘I told you so’, I’m already getting poked by Bones, so I’ve really been appropriately chastised.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow, “As there were no injuries sustained thus far, there is no reason for me to remind you of my calculations. I came to inform you of my team’s completed analysis regarding the slime.”

“Yes, Bones said it was some sort of pneumonia crap, pretty disgusting.” Kirk waved her hand, mercifully clean of slime.

“Indeed, Dr. McCoy was correct. The organism was identified as Pseudomonas aeruginosa , a common Earth bacterium which does cause pneumonia. How the doctor deduced this is rather curious, since bone saws are incapable of genetic analysis. Nevertheless, I have already asked Lieutenant Scott to decontaminate the transporter room and purge the buffers, to prevent further spread.”

Bones ignored the insult and looked thoughtful “An Earth bacteria on an alien planet… Begs the question: how did it get there?” 

“I'll leave the speculation up to your team, Ms. Spock. Have a report ready for our meeting tomorrow, 0900. Head back to the planet if you’d like, but I’m going back to the bridge. Probably shouldn’t risk touching something else nasty.” She hopped off the biobed, clapped Bones on the shoulder, and hesitated when she reached Spock. Her eyes were unreadable, and Kirk left Sickbay.

After dinner, Kirk sat in her quarters, unable to relax. A book lay open on her lap but she couldn’t seem to focus on Arthur Conan Doyle tonight. Her crew was safe on her ship, the afternoon’s exploration had been mostly uneventful, and there was no sign of Klingons in the system. Still, something buzzed in the corner of her mind and wouldn’t relent. 

“Computer, locate Doctor McCoy.”

“Doctor McCoy is in his quarters.”

“Locate Commander Spock.”

“Commander Spock is in the recreation hall.”

Drinking or chess: which would help her unwind? Kirk rose and put her gold command shirt back on, then ditched her slippers for her black regulation boots. She exited her quarters, hesitated, then made up her mind. The rec hall was busy as usual, people clustered around table playing games, lounging with books and PADDs. Spock sat in one corner with Uhura, and Kirk smiled at the sight. Spock’s deft fingers picked across the twelve strings of her lyre while Uhura’s warm voice sang along.

Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you
Away, you rolling river
Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you
Away, we’re bound away, across the wide Missouri

Tis seven long years, since last I saw you
Away you rolling river
Tis seven long years, since last I saw you
Away, we’re bound away across the wide Missouri

As the final chords faded away, Kirk joined the clapping onlookers.

“Excellent performance, as always. I’m starting to think we need to host a talent show.”

“Thank you, Captain, you’re too kind,” Uhura demurred, “I think I could convince Christine to pull her guitar out of storage and play a tune or two.”

“Well then, it’s settled. Spock, can I count on you and your lyre to round out the show?”

“As long as it does not interfere with my duties or the ship’s function, I would be amenable to performing in a formal setting.”

“I’ll have Sulu arrange it, he might enjoy showing off a bit,”

“Wonderful, Captain! Have a good evening, you two, I’m retiring to my quarters,” Uhura made her excuses and left the hall.

Kirk met Spock’s eyes and searched for her next words, “Do you have plans tonight, Commander?”

“No, Captain. Are you in need of companionship?”

“Why yes, Ms. Spock,” Kirk let out a slight laugh, “You could certainly say that. I’m having trouble winding down tonight.”

“Perhaps a game of chess will quiet your mind. Although I still think meditation is the logical solution, since you frequently have this trouble.”

“One day I’ll let you teach me to meditate, but I’m not quite ready to go full Vulcan yet.”

“Illogical, but I digress.”

They settled at a table in the corner, an air of privacy descending despite the crowd of the room. Minutes trickled by in sluggish dribbles. Neither spoke save for announcing piece movements, and the silent strategization finally stilled Kirk’s mind. She picked up her knight, turning the piece over in her fingers, and her gaze wandered from the chessboard to Spock’s face. Her first officer looked as composed as always, dark eyes offset by blue eyeshadow, smooth black hair brushing her shoulders, pursed lips pink and glossy and soft.

“Spock, why do you wear makeup?” Kirk surprised herself with the question.

She raised a single, slanted eyebrow. “Captain?”

“Cosmetics just seem so… illogical. Impractical.” Kirk forged ahead, “Spending time every morning going through some lengthy routine for no purpose other than vanity? Not very Vulcanic.”

“Once again, Captain, you fail to understand the complexities of Vulcan thought. My morning ablutions take little time, and my makeup serves a more… complex purpose.”

Kirk prodded, “Which is…?”

“Despite humans and Vulcans interacting for centuries, we are still alien to each other. Humans have the most irrational fear and distrust of aliens. While attending Starfleet Academy, I discovered my alien nature- appearance and personality- caused hostility and friction, in some cases preventing me from forming positive social bonds. Humans, after all, are the majority species in Starfleet. Since I was unwilling to compromise my true Vulcan self, my mother advised a temporary solution. She recommended different clothing, but makeup is easier. A simple application of eyeshadow and lipstick improves my interactions with humans a significant amount.” Spock picked up another piece, studying the board as she spoke, avoiding Kirk’s gaze.

“But surely we on the Enterprise are more mature than Academy cadets. It can’t still be necessary-”

“I have observed a 23.6% decrease in congeniality on the days I forgo my makeup.”

Kirk shut her mouth in surprise. She felt heat rush to her cheeks, embarrassment and shame at her crew, her species, for making Spock think she needed makeup to get along with humans. “I’m sorry Spock, I had no idea we were so backwards.”

“Backwards, Captain?” Spock placed her piece and met Kirk’s eyes.

“There was a time in Earth history where a woman’s value was based on her beauty, not on her strength of character. Beautiful women were valued as objects to collect and admire, while women with less attractive features were tossed aside as useless grotesques.”

“Vulcan has a similar history. Most illogical. Although physical attractiveness still carries value among my people: most Vulcans wear makeup when trying to enhance their features to attract potential sexual partners.”

Kirk felt her flush deepen at the last statement and shifted in her seat, “I’m glad you aren’t wearing makeup for that reason, Spock. The crew couldn’t handle an amorous Vulcan!”

Spock didn’t respond to the joke, only moved another chess piece.

“Is that also why you wear your hair long? To improve crew relations?”

“No, I simply dislike human barbers and can more easily trim it myself at this length.”

“It looks good, I’m impressed. The only time I ever cut my own hair was in a fit of pique- I hacked off my braid with a pair of scissors since I was sick of brushing it. That night, my mother sat me in the kitchen and spent an hour trying to fix it. I looked like a wild child for months.” Kirk smiled at the memory of her mother’s chastisement, a common occurrence in her childhood.

“Yet you decided to grow it long again?”

Kirk shrugged, “I wore it short through the Academy, but let it grow long during my first posting. Even human barbers are hard to find in deep space. Speaking of, I’m due for a trim. Are you taking clients?”

“I am hardly an expert. Lieutenant Uhura would be a better choice.”

“I’m kidding, Spock, you don’t have to cut my hair.”

“Perhaps I could hack it off, instead.”

Kirk laughed so hard she almost fell off her seat, “Every time I start thinking Vulcans don't have a sense of humor, Ms. Spock, you force me to reassess.”

“Perish the thought. I believe that is checkmate, Captain.”

She glanced at the board in surprise, realizing that Spock had, in fact, placed her queen in an impossible position. “I suppose I distracted myself with all this chatter, didn’t I?”

“I have found humans are less capable of multitasking than they claim. Are you feeling more relaxed?”

“Yes, thank you Spock, chess worked its wonders again.”

“I shall see you at 0900 for our meeting, then. Good night, Captain.” She inclined her head as Kirk stood.

“See you in the morning.” She rested a hand on Spock’s shoulder for the briefest moment and returned to her quarters, falling asleep within the hour.

The next day brought even more questions, rather than the answers Kirk was hoping for. Clustered around the table were her best officers, highly trained and intelligent Starfleet personnel capable of tackling the most dangerous and difficult missions. None had answers.

“In summary, Captain, we have identified a total of three species native to Earth. The Pseudomonas bacterium which you encountered yesterday, as well as a Scarabaeidae species and an Artemisia plant. Preliminary phylogenetic analysis indicates each originated from Earth, although we have been unable to determine how long they have lived on Helix 3.”

“Who the hell brings a dung beetle and sage brush to the corner of the galaxy?”

“We have been unable to determine the motives behind the colonization, Doctor.”

“Colonization? So you think this was intentional, Commander?”

“Indeed, Captain. A single microbe could easily be transmitted by accident on a wayward boot, but the size and diversity of these organisms leads me to conclude they must have been brought from Earth and placed on Helix 3 intentionally. Perhaps it is a crude attempt to determine whether the planet mimics a chaparral in more than just appearance. However, such an experiment would usually necessitate a larger selection of organisms than we found.”

“Or maybe they were just the ones that survived.” Kirk rubbed her chin, “If other flora and fauna were placed on the planet but couldn’t adapt, we might never find the evidence.” 

“A logical conclusion, Captain.”

“Starfleet made it seem like no humans had stepped foot on the planet,” Uhura cut in, “There’s no record of anything more than some basic scans a few months ago, and I can’t find any signs of transmissions in the entire system. If someone did perform an unauthorized colonization attempt, they haven’t been around in a long time.”

“Well, we have our marching orders. Spock, you and I will go back down to the planet to continue investigating. I’m hesitant to allow general shore leave for the crew since we still don’t know what’s going on, but spread the word in your departments that the away mission is open to anyone who wants to assist with exploration. Tell them to meet us in the transporter room at 1300. Oh, and don’t go touching shiny things without scanning them first. Dismissed.”

Kirk picked up her PADD and reviewed the area’s ecological data. Helix 3 really did seem like a high desert of sorts, as Kirk remembered the dry heat sticking in her throat like the hottest days back home in Iowa. They’d found the ore as initially promised, with rich deposits of iron explaining the red hue of the rock, and a small amount of pergium. No sign of dilithium, which was a blessing in disguise. A dilithium mine this close to the neutral zone would prove more trouble than it was worth.

“Captain Kirk?”

She glanced up to see Chekov waiting patiently, “Sorry Lieutenant, I didn’t realize you were still here. Is everything alright?”

“Yes ma’am. I am planning to accompany ze team this afternoon and wanted approval to bring my rappelling equipment.”

“Rappelling- you want to go rock climbing?”
“Yes, Captain. Being able to access a higher elevation and examine the rock faces up close will increase the area we can explore, and might even lead to more discoveries.”

“Permission granted. You don’t need to justify recreation, Lieutenant, although that was a very pretty little speech. I’ll see you at 1300.”

Chekov grinned, “Yes ma’am.”

At 1300 hours, the transporter room bustled with movement. A total of sixteen crewmembers had elected to join, outfitted with tricorders and various other scientific equipment. Several security officers were present, carrying their phaser weapons and wearing identical expressions of grim determination.

Kirk arranged herself on the transporter pad, “Keep the ship under control while we’re away, Scotty. Beam us down.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Helix 3 appeared the same as yesterday: sky hazy with atmospheric dust, scraggly plants (sagebrush, apparently) dotting the land, rocky clusters soaring a dozen meters high. They fanned out in an organized pattern, collecting more specimens and taking readings. Her crew was, after all, scientists to their core. Chekov set off for the tallest outcropping of rocks, almost a small cliff face, and Kirk followed, motivated by equal parts curiosity and apprehension. He wore a climbing harness and helmet, carrying rope and a heavy looking backpack, and an extremely wide grin.

“Captain Kirk, will you climb with me?”

“Best not, Lieutenant, I think Bones would kill me if I went back to Sickbay. Let me know if you find anything.”

The young man began scaling the rockface, setting pitons periodically to attach rope and testing each surface before placing his full weight. Kirk was relieved to notice his caution in avoiding the shiny patches of bacterial growth, sticking to the dull rock. Despite his slow climb, Chekov reached the peak before too long, and startled Kirk by yelling.

“Captain! Captain, there is a dead body up here!”

Spock and the others came running. Without sparing a glance for her first officer, Kirk grabbed the ropes and started scaling the rock. Despite her lack of rock climbing since the Academy so many years ago, she was able to summit within a few minutes. Chekov crouched next to the body, covering his mouth with his uniform collar. Kirk began studying the corpse. It was a fetid thing, flesh rank with rot, bones peeking through layers of muscle shriveled from heat, shreds of thick brown organs distorted beyond all recognition. Insects picked their way across, alien creatures save for the beetles. 

Kirk sighed, “Can you tell how old it is, Spock?” She knew her first officer had followed close behind, and could feel her watching.

“Negative, Captain. The climate and atmospheric conditions are too unknown for me to estimate decomposition rate.”

“Alright, let's get it back to the Enterprise.” Kirk flipped open her communicator, “Scotty, please lock onto a set of remains near my position and beam it directly to the medical lab.”

“Aye, Captain.” A brief pause, then, “Captain, which remains should I beam up?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Kirk, her Vulcan equivalent of shrieking in shock.

“Just how many dead bodies are surrounding me, Scotty?”

“Uhura here, Captain. Our initial scans showed some biological matter, but it just looked like normal fauna. We scanned the area again,” she paused and Kirk felt her stomach fall away, “Captain, if I'm reading this correctly, there are approximately thirteen corpses located within 100 meters of your vicinity. There are three on your rock.”

“Spock, has your team found twelve other sets of remains?”

“Negative, Captain. But I have a theory. Lieutenant Uhura, cross reference the location of the remains with the known locations of Pseudomonas colonies.”

“Analyzing. Commander, they're a match! How did you know?”

“Archaic microbiology utilized blood agar for bacterial growth. I am beginning to suspect the Pseudomonas colonies were set up on something similar.”

“Take samples of the… growth substrate, as it were. See if we can get any genetic information from it. Scotty, see if you can isolate the corpse next to me and beam it directly to the medical lab. Then get us- all of us- the hell out of here.”

When Kirk entered the Medical Lab on her return, she was greeted with her CMO pacing in irritation. 

“I just had to perform an autopsy on a partially decayed corpse, and now Chapel tells me the bacteria is growing on liquefied humans? Jim, what the hell is going on?”

“Believe me, Bones, I'd tell you if I knew.” Kirk dropped to a chair and rubbed a hand over her face, feeling the full weight of the afternoon crash down upon her. “We should wait to draw any conclusions until Spock has completed her analysis, but it's not looking good. What can you tell me about the corpse?”

“She was fully grown, far as I can tell, and definitely human. No match in the dental or genetic records, although I only have access to the Starfleet database. I sent it off to my colleagues but it'll be awhile before we get results from the wider Federation records. Can't determine cause of death, nor any major medical problems, she's too decayed. If we were on Earth, in a similar environment, I'd say she has been out there a couple weeks. No sign of clothing or equipment or anything that would help identify her. There's not much more to tell.”

“No indication of trauma of any kind?” 

“None. It could be erased from the decay, or maybe she died some other way.” McCoy sat at his desk opposite Kirk.

“What about pneumonia?”

“You think the Pseudomonas got her?”

“The bacteria wouldn't spread through the air, but maybe she touched it while climbing,” Kirk started pacing, “If she was stuck on the planet, maybe she climbed to the top of the rock for a better view, and got infected that way.”

“Just as plausible a theory as any, although I hope Spock figures something else out, and soon.”

“The crew is still safe, right?”

“From the planet? Sure, as long as none of them licked the damn bacteria. From whoever used humans to make blood agar? Depends how far away they are.”

“Let's go to the lab. I can't just sit around and wait.”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure Spock will work much faster if we're staring over her shoulder.”

But the doctor accompanied Kirk as she made her way down to the laboratory, equally desperate for answers. Spock was seated at a bench, hunched slightly over a pile of red goop. She'd pulled her hair back and was wearing a rubber apron and gloves, concessions to protective equipment Kirk rarely saw. Lieutenant Hadley worked nearby, flicking switches on the keyboard and frowning at a set of petri dishes.

Kirk cleared her throat, “Any results yet, Commander?”

“We are still analyzing the specimens from the planet, Captain.” There was the barest hint of irritation in her voice. “Anticipation will not improve our efficiency.”

“Dammit, Spock, those are human remains! We have every right to be anxious for some answers!”

“Incorrect, Doctor. These are not human remains.”

Kirk breathed a sigh of relief, “So the blood is from some native animal? Thank god.” 

“Also incorrect. We have run a basic genetic analysis on the specimens and have discovered a match. The agar was made using flesh from Klingons.”

“You can't be serious! Klingons?”

“Are you sure, Commander? Someone ground up a bunch of Klingons and used them as a growth media?”

“I am always serious, Doctor. And no, Captain, I'm not sure. I have yet to finish my analysis of the specimens.” The irritation was now an obvious bite in her voice. She was saved from further questioning by a startled exclamation from Lieutenant Hadley. 

“Commander! Results are back from the immunity test, and it's just as you thought. The leukocytes extracted from the growth media didn’t respond to the Pseudomonas from the planet.”

McCoy rushed to look at the computer, shock spreading over his face, “My God, they're susceptible!”

“Care to explain to those of us not in science blues?”

“Jim, the Klingon immune system is the strongest of any species Starfleet has catalogued. Their white blood cells kill every pathogen thrown at them. But not this one. Pseudomonas usually only causes disease if your immune system is compromised, which is why I wasn't too worried about the away mission. But this strain… the Lieutenant ran an experiment using Klingon white blood cells and introduced them to the bacteria from the planet. They didn't mount a defense! No complement cascade, no antibody production, no cytokines, nothing!” McCoy rounded on Spock, “You knew this might be the case?”

“I hypothesized the reason, yes. There is no reason to cultivate Pseudomonas at such a large scale, and this was certainly a cultivation attempt: the red gelatinous substance is an agar made of meat paste, blood, and supplementary nutrients. The discovery of Klingon genetic material in the growth media confirms my suspicion.”

“Using Klingon… material. It means the bacteria could evolve resistance to their immune system, which they would otherwise be susceptible to. Spock, are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Yes, Captain, I believe Helix 3 is being used to develop a bioweapon against the Klingons.”

Stunned silence followed her statement. Kirk shared a look of horror with McCoy. A bioweapon this close to the Neutral Zone, with a Starfleet ship in orbit, would mean war if the Klingons ever found out.

“Spock, send a message to Starfleet command. Highest priority, highest security clearance, best encryption you can find. Bones, make sure the bacteria is only harmful to Klingons and not to humans. Let's hope-” She was interrupted by Uhura’s voice through the intercom.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk.”

She tapped the button, “Kirk here.”

“There’s a ship approaching, it will arrive in orbit in five minutes.”

“Another Starfleet vessel?”

“No, Captain, it's a Klingon Bird-of-Prey.”

Kirk ran through the halls, dashing past startled crewmen with Spock and Bones close on her heels. The turbolift ride to the Bridge seemed to take twice as long, and Kirk sent a silent prayer to Lady Luck. Let this not be my last battlefield . The minute the doors whooshed open, she was on the move.

“Uhura, hail the Klingon ship. Sulu, shields up. Chekov, prepare to break orbit if they engage.”

The view screen flickered to life, revealing a glowering Klingon perched on a gloomy bridge.

Kirk settled in her chair and struck a relaxed pose, “This is Captain Jamie T. Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise. How can we assist, Captain?”

“You can start by explaining your presence so close to the Neutral Zone, Captain.” The Klingon spat his words with a standard level of venom, thin beard quivering with each word, eyes menacing. 

“We are on a peaceful mission of exploration to the planet below. Starfleet reported deposits of valuable metals, and we were sent to confirm. Sadly there's nothing on the planet but crumbling rock and rusting iron.” Kirk kept her breath even, relaxed, ignoring the sweat prickling her armpits. 

“We will perform our own scans,” the Klingon Captain almost snarled, before cutting off transmission.

“Friendly fellow,” Kirk observed, wiping her brow and sneaking a smile at Spock.

“The Klingon ship has assumed orbit about the planet, but there's no sign of transporters. They're probably still scanning the planet.” Uhura reported.

Kirk ran a hand through her hair, trying to untangle her thoughts. “Bones, if they did go down to the planet, what level of risk does the bacteria pose?”

“Depends. I don't think it's airborne, so they should be safe if they don't touch it.”

“But if they did touch it?”

McCoy’s lips twisted, “It could start a plague, Jim. If they get infected and bring it back to Kronos…”

“Understood. Let's make sure that doesn't happen. The Klingons might be our enemies, but biological warfare is beyond the pale.”

“Captain, I have alerted Starfleet Command to our current predicament.” Spock’s voice cut through Kirk’s worry, “They seem equally surprised by the experiments being performed on the planet, although it could be a false ignorance.”

“You think Starfleet ordered this? Really, Spock?” Kirk frowned at her, “If this was some sort of secret operation, why would they send their flagship out here to discover it?”

Spock inclined her head, “Indeed, it is not a logical conclusion, simply a possibility.”

“I think I have a better theory,” McCoy sat at the science station, studying a report on the screen. “We have an identity for the woman. Her name was Tanya Kominsky, and she was a part of the Ithaca colony.”

A wave of ice ran down Kirk’s spine at the mention of the ill-fated colony. They had attempted to settle on a planet near Klingon space- too close, it turned out. The Klingons took offence and massacred the entire colony, leaving only a few survivors to flee in ships. Kirk couldn’t begin to imagine the hatred she must’ve had, the sense of moral imperative to wreak the same level of destruction on the Klingons that was done to her people.

“She had a background in microbiology, and disappeared after the incident at Ithaca. Probably stole a colony vessel and came out here for revenge. We still have no idea where the Klingons came from.”

Kirk started at the image of Helix 3 on the view screen. Thin strands of white clouds crept across the surface, a slow meander of wind and rain to obscure the land, but which could not cleanse the horrors they had found. 

Uhura interrupted her ruminations, “Captain, the Klingon vessel is hailing us again.”

“On screen.”

The Klingon was stiff on his chair, expression unchanged, “Captain Kirk, our scans show what you said, with one notable exception.”

Kirk went very still, feeling Spock’s eyes pressing on her, hearing McCoy take the slightest sharp inhale.

“There is a small amount of pergium on the planet, Captain. Were you hoping to conceal this tiny treasure from the Klingon Empire?”

“No, of course not, Captain. We merely… had not determined the proper allocation of the mineral. Since the planet is so close to the Neutral Zone, we were waiting on orders from Command before harvesting it. However, if the Empire is interested in sharing mining rights, perhaps we can have our governments come to an agreement. I can promise my crew will leave the planet alone if yours does.” She waited with bated breath, trying to project a confidence she didn’t feel. Kirk was used to risky gambits, but never enjoyed such high stakes.

The Klingon Captain stroked his beard, running a finger along his drooping mustache in contemplation, “That is acceptable, Captain. I will inform the High Council of our findings and come to an agreement about the pergium.”

He ended the transmission, and Kirk watched as the Bird of Prey engaged her engines. Only once the ship had gone to warp did she slump into her seat, exhaustion filling the void of adrenaline. 

“Starfleet Command be damned. Sulu, organize a team to go back to Helix 3 and get rid of every last trace of Pseudomonas and the… Klingon remains. Collect whatever Spock deems is necessary for our records, but burn the rest of it. I trust you can figure something out. Spock, you have the bridge. I have a report to write.”

Hours later, Kirk still sat at her desk, PADD in hand, trying to find the words for her letter. Trying to find the words to tell a mother the worst possible news: her daughter dead on a desolate planet light years away from home. Dead, not from some noble sacrifice or heroic act, but for some foolish attempt at a peace which would never come. Even if the plague had reached Kronos, the Klingons would have ended it before the death toll was devastating, and then they would have turned their hostile gaze upon the Federation. Her death was tragic, a senseless waste of life, made even more infuriating by the questions still hanging. Was she acting alone, or was there an accomplice somewhere out in the stars? Had Tanya truly killed twelve Klingons in cold blood, or did fate land their corpses in her makeshift workshop? The admirals back home would have questions for her, admonishments for hasty actions and criticism of snap decisions, perpetually displeased by Kirk’s leadership. She rubbed her eyes, feeling the full weight of her command. A chime from the door roused her.

“Come.”

Spock entered the ready room, dark eyes sweeping over Kirk, flickering over her slumped shoulders, tousled hair, and exhausted expression. When their eyes met, Kirk felt her soul laid bare in the intensity of Spock’s gaze.

“Captain, we have successfully purged the planet of all trace of Pseudomonas and Klingon blood agar. I also received a response from Starfleet Command. They are awaiting your final report, but indicated an investigation into Kominsky’s actions would commence.”

“Thank you, Ms. Spock.” Kirk looked down at her PADD, willingly the words to write themselves. But Spock didn't leave. Instead, she crossed the room to stand next to Kirk.

“Captain, there are many questions still remaining about the events on Helix 3. Answers will come once Starfleet has had time to review the data and investigate the missing Klingons. There is no need to continue searching for a resolution that will not come.”

“It's not just the lingering questions, Spock.” Kirk’s voice was barely above a whisper, “Kominsky was a promising colonist. She may have even been trying to colonize Helix 3, given the other organisms we found, but tragedy twisted her motives to cruelty. We humans believe in free will, in choice, in making our own destiny. It’s a lie. We are governed by forces beyond our own, buffeted by the indifferent winds of the universe, twisting our paths into warped facsimiles of our hopes and dreams. Lady Luck has always favored me, Spock, but one day she will change her fickle mind and I will falter. What then? Had the Klingons decided to send a team to the planet, war would have broken out. A million other disasters await around every corner.” Kirk lifted her gaze to Spock’s face, hazel eyes meeting brown, and her composure broke, “I act on instinct, making decisions based on emotion. One day, I will be wrong. Will I lead the Enterprise, my crew, into certain ruin?”

Spock stared at Kirk for several long moments, then placed a hand on her shoulder. Kirk could feel the warmth of her touch burn through her uniform, sparks radiating from the connection point. When Spock spoke, her tone was soft and gentle, “One day, yes, you will falter. But you will not fail this crew. You will never fail them, as you have never failed me.” Her eyes softened, eyebrows seeming less severe, lips less pursed, “You are the greatest captain I have ever had the honor of serving under, and I will follow your lead regardless of the circumstances. Jim, I have and will always be your confidante.”

“Spock, I -” The words stuck in her throat as she looked at Spock, her First Officer, her friend, her safe harbor, “Thank you, Spock.”

They stayed in the position a moment longer before Spock dropped her hand and stepped away. Kirk mourned the loss of her closeness, feeling cold and bereft.

“Sleep well, Captain,” Spock left before Kirk could reply. 

She sat at her desk for several more minutes before setting the PADD aside and going to her quarters. As she lay in bed, Helix 3 did not dominate her thoughts. Instead, she replayed Spock’s words over and over, the memory of her hand warming her core until she fell into a dreamless sleep.