“The state of my uniform is inappropriate for a Starfleet officer.”
“We’re not on duty. Relax.”
“Our duty status is somewhat of a gray area. Without a duty schedule or explicit orders from the captain—”
“Look at this.” Chapel held up the glass from which she had just sipped. “What is this?”
Spock peered at the beverage closely. “It appears to be tranya.”
“Correct. And have you ever known me to drink on duty?”
“No.”
“Okay, then.” Chapel took another drink. “Besides, look at me.” She held her arms wide. Her white uniform was mottled with gray smudges. There was a dark, sooty stain from a disruptor bolt’s near miss on her shoulder, and there was even some of Spock’s blood on her left sleeve. “I’m a mess. I should have worn my grays. And they bring out the blue in my eyes, don’t you think?”
Spock thought a moment. “I have no idea how to respond to that.”
“Oh, come on, I thought we’d reached a point . . .” She trailed off as she took another swallow of tranya and squinted at Spock. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
He ignored her question. “During all the activity surrounding Commissioner Dax, capturing the Orions, and our own treatment and debriefings, I feel I have neglected proper comment on your actions aboard the Copernicus.”
She waved her empty hand at his face. “Oh, pshaw.” Did I just say pshaw? This tranya sneaks up on you. Chapel took another sip. If Spock noticed her mildly inebriated behavior, he did nothing to indicate so.
“When I heard you say ‘Easy as plomeek soup,’ I surmised you were attempting to alert me to some sort of gambit. It was what Captain Kirk would have done.”
Chapel put her glass down. “It kind of was, wasn’t it?” She sat forward in her chair. “It was exciting. Empowering. But I’d rather be doing something other than improvising my way out of being murdered or enslaved. Though, in a strange way, I wouldn’t trade our little adventure together for anything.”
“We did make a good team.”
“That we did.” She picked up her glass again and took a sip. “But even so, I don’t think being the CMO of the Enterprise—or any ship, for that matter—is what I want anymore. I’d like the opportunity to advance my career. Maybe in command.” Chapel turned in her seat a bit so she could look more closely at Spock. “What about you? The admiral will probably be called back to Starfleet Command. Would you take command of the Enterprise?”
Spock sat quietly for so long, Chapel wondered if he was going to answer. “There is no guarantee that the ship would be offered to me, but if so . . . my answer would depend on many variables. It is logical to acknowledge that I may have to make that decision someday, but for now I feel no need to rush toward the future. I am attempting to . . . savor my current path.”
“That’s a great answer. After all you’ve been through, you deserve some time for yourself.” She clasped him on the shoulder. Spock reached up and briefly placed his hand on hers.
“Thank you, Christine.”
As footsteps approached, they turned to see who was joining them. Chapel leaped to her feet when she saw Commissioner Dax enter the lounge. Spock also stood, although in a more dignified fashion.
“I was told I’d find you two here.” Dax looked strong, her normal color having returned to her face. “Captain Penon told me the Enterprise will arrive soon. I had to see you before you left.”
Chapel embraced Dax. “I’m so glad to see you on your feet already.”
“Thanks to you. Both of you. You saved my life, and I will always remember that.”
Spock nodded, clearly uncomfortable with Dax’s gratitude. Chapel hid a smile. What would he think if he knew exactly what Audrid means by always?
Dax let him off the hook. “If you wouldn’t mind, Commander, could I have a moment alone with my doctor?”
“Certainly, Commissioner. I hope your swift recovery continues.” Discomfort aside, Spock swept out of the room in a rather stately manner.
“He has very piercing eyes,” Dax said as she turned to face Chapel. “Yet there’s a warmth to them somehow.”
Chapel kept a straight face. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Dax looked as though she were considering asking Chapel more about Spock but then thought better of it. “I just wanted to emphasize my thanks to you. Dax will live to touch many more lives after me, and you will be remembered by every one of them.”
Put that way, Chapel found herself a little overwhelmed, and tears gathered in her eyes. After she pulled herself together enough to respond, she said, “I’m honored to be a part of those memories.”
“I hope that Captain Penon wasn’t too hard on you?”
“He . . .” Chapel considered how best to answer. “He did what he had to do. I hold no grudges. But I have to say that my not knowing about the symbiont could have meant death for both of you. I think the Trill should trust their Federation allies and end the secrecy.”
Dax shrugged. “Maybe some day . . . but not today. In the meantime, we just have to hope for doctors like you.”
They chatted a little while longer before being interrupted by Spock on Chapel’s wrist communicator. The Enterprise had arrived and, honoring the Trill’s transporter taboo, had sent the Galileo over to pick them up. The Starfleet officers were to head down to the shuttlebay. Chapel said goodbye to Dax and joined Spock on a leisurely stroll through the corridors of the Troyval, knowing they would soon be back aboard their own ship.
“I’m almost disappointed our adventure is over,” Chapel said.
“Indeed. I cannot emphasize enough how fortunate I was that Doctor McCoy chose not to come along.”
“I feel the same way.”
“That is . . . satisfying.”
They continued in companionable silence for a while, then rounded a final turn and faced the entrance to the shuttlebay. Chapel said, “This mission will be the perfect way to remember the Enterprise. And my service with you.”
“Then you have made the decision to request a transfer?”
Chapel took a deep breath and then let it out. “I believe I have. I don’t want to leave right away tomorrow or anything, but sooner rather than later.”
They stood silently looking at each other, both saddened that Chapel would depart the Enterprise.
Spock broke the silence. “I am sure you will succeed at whatever you do.” He held up his hand in the traditional Vulcan gesture. “Live long, and prosper.”
With a mischievous laugh, Chapel said, “Oh, what the hell!” and leaned forward to plant a big kiss on Spock’s lips, which, to her surprise, he returned. They stepped back from the kiss—comfortable with the slightly more than friendly expression of affection between old friends who’ve been through a lot together—to find Kirk and McCoy coming out of the shuttlebay.
The new arrivals froze on the threshold, the automatic doors vacillating, starting to close, then opening back up again. Unlike the movement of the doors, the eyes of both Kirk and McCoy were frozen wide open.
Finally, McCoy blurted out, “What the hell’s going on with you two?”
Chapel, after a sidelong glance at Spock, said, “Captain, Doctor, I’m going to put in for a transfer. Spock begged to come with me, but I insisted he had to stay on the Enterprise.”
Spock stood with his arms behind his back, head tilted to one side. “Regrettably, I have resigned myself to the necessity of remaining behind to keep Doctor McCoy out of trouble.”
McCoy was speechless. Kirk, laughing deeply, leaned against a bulkhead for support. Chapel and Spock looked at each other. Spock gestured for her to go first, and the two of them entered the shuttlebay and went aboard the Galileo together.
Acknowledgments
Writing Star Trek is a special kind of collaboration with scores of pe
ople whose work has gone before, and there’s no way to thank them all by name. So, a big group thanks to all the actors, writers, composers, and other crew members who created the filmed adventures that informed my work on the printed page. A particular thanks to those people behind the episodes and movies that are referenced in this work, especially those episodes that developed the character of Christine Chapel. Obviously, a very special acknowledgment to Majel Barrett-Roddenberry, who played the character for decades and looms large in the history of Star Trek for many reasons.
On the text-based side of the Star Trek universe, thanks to my editors, Margaret Clark and Ed Schlesinger, for inviting me to pitch for these new-fangled eBooks that all the kids are talking about, and for coming up with the idea of giving Chapel an adventure in which she could kick some ass. A tip of the hat to Michael Jan Friedman and S. D. Perry, whose stories in The Lives of Dax helped flesh out Dax’s back story; and to Christopher L. Bennett, who has chronicled the Enterprise crew in the time shortly after Star Trek: The Motion Picture.
Thanks to the indefatigable fans who maintain the websites Memory Alpha, Memory Beta, and Chrissie’s Transcripts Site, always great helps when writing in the Trek universe. A shout-out to Jeff Ayers (author of Star Trek: Voyages of Imagination: The Star Trek Fiction Companion) and Jeff Ford (friend for more decades than we want to admit) for providing insightful feedback on the manuscript, and to Gerri Leen (grand prize Strange New Worlds writer) for being an enthusiastic Chapel fan.
I also have to mention some of my fellow Trek writers just because they’re such great people to have become friends with over the years: Kirsten Beyer, Greg Cox, Kevin Dilmore, David R. George III, Robert Greenberger, William Leisner (whom I occasionally allow to be a terrible person), David Mack, Marco Palmieri, and Dayton Ward.
Thanks also to anyone whom I’ve forgotten to mention—my only excuse is the tranya (it sneaks up on you). Last, I have to mention my personal next generation of Star Trek: my daughter, Ella, because if I didn’t have her name in one of my books, I’d be in big trouble.
About the Author
Scott Pearson contributed stories to Strange New Worlds VII and Strange New Worlds 9 as well as to the Star Trek: The Next Generation twentieth-anniversary anthology, The Sky’s the Limit. His novella Honor in the Night is in Star Trek Myriad Universes: Shattered Light. Most recently he has had stories in three ReDeus shared-world anthologies alongside many other Star Trek writers. He lives with his wife, Sandra, and daughter, Ella, in personable St. Paul, Minnesota, near the banks of the mighty Mississippi River, fabled in story and song, where he endeavors to make a living as a freelance writer/editor. Visit him on the Web at www.yeahsure.net and www.generationsgeek.com. You can also find him on Facebook and Twitter. You can listen to Generations Geek, the podcast he does with his daughter, at www.chronicrift.com and on the iTunes he’s heard people mention over the water cooler.
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Cover art by Doug Drexler
ISBN 978-1-4767-6375-0
Star Trek: The Original Series: The More Things Change Page 9
