Disclaimers are illogical.

About Canon: I count history in the order in which the episodes were created, not the order in which they were aired. I include all species of Star Trek, including the Animated Series. I do NOT include literature, however - with one exception. The novelization of 'Star Trek: The Motion Picture' was written by Gene Roddenberry, so it, and it alone, is included in my personal lexicon. There are many fanon concepts that have worked their way into the collective consciousness (including some from published novels), and I generally accept these unless they contradict established canon. I do so at my own discretion, however, and I enjoy offering alternative possibilities.

Author's Note: Some might call it bad writing, or bad producing, but one of the many reasons I adore TOS so much is that it tends to leave a lot to the imagination as it skips from episode to episode (indeed, often from scene to scene). There is a vast supply of unresolved issues that serve as high octane fuel for my muse. I want the characters to develop more than we were given. I feel an overwhelming urge to fill the gaping holes that riddle the entire series. I enjoy finding continuity hiccups and coming up with innovative ways to explain them away.

With that said, I give to you now the rambling scrawlings of my Muse.

=(^)= In the Line of Duty =(^)=

Doctor McCoy knelt on the ground, and hovered his medical device over the smoking remains. "Well, Jim," he said grimly. "I'm a doctor, not a mechanic, but I think it's safe to say it's dead."

"Isn't there any hope at all, Spock?" Kirk asked with a real note of concern in his voice.

Spock stood stiffly to one side and the captain glanced at him with undisguised sympathy that was embarrassing. "Captain, I assure you, it would be far simpler to replace it."

McCoy tentatively laid a finger on the charred metal. When it proved cool enough to touch, he picked it up and looked up at Spock with a frown. "But this wasn't just any tricorder, Spock." He gave it a little shake for emphasis. "It was your tricorder." He got to his feet with a grunt of effort, and dusted off his knees with one hand while holding the machine out to Spock with the other.

The Vulcan clasped his hands calmly behind his back. "I am aware of the human tendency to personify and become emotionally attached to inanimate objects. But I am content to use any of the tricorders available on the Enterprise – all of which, I might add, are the property of Starfleet."

McCoy snorted. "That's why you always choose the same one?" he asked, unable to refrain from teasing him. Spock blinked. "What," McCoy added, raising his eyebrows in feigned surprise. "Did you think all the away teams ignored that one on accident?"

Kirk took the tricorder from McCoy, giving him a mock glare to stand down, and did not miss Spock's gaze follow the machine from one set of hands to the other. He looked up at his first officer, who stiffened his spine to an even more ramrod straight posture. Spock chose not to reply. Kirk sighed and squinted against the wind that was blowing grit into his eyes. "Well, we can't leave it here where it might be found by the natives." Kirk pulled out his communicator and hailed the Enterprise, and that was the last that was heard of the incident.

Sixteen days later the Enterprise established orbit around a small watery planet. The away team that had been assembled gathered in the transporter room, with the chief engineer himself manning the console to see them off. The crew collected their equipment from the supply locker, then began taking their places on the pads.

Spock found himself staring. It was nestled in its accustomed place at the end of the row of tricorders as though it belonged there. It had been scrubbed clean, but the metal was darkened by heat. No attempt had been made to remove the several small dents and scratches it had acquired over time. It was unmistakably the very tricorder that had seen many additions and alterations over its years of service. Spock hesitated a moment, then looked over his shoulder. The entire landing party stood on the transporter pads, obviously fighting back smiles and looking anywhere but at him. McCoy, in particular, appeared entirely too pleased with himself. Spock looked at Mister Scott, behind the controls. The engineer winked, and looked down at his console to make an adjustment.

But no one said anything.

Spock knew that choosing the mended tricorder would only inflate the value his human companions believed he placed on it, but there was no logic in selecting an inferior machine. Spock calmly pulled the tricorder from the locker, and slipped the strap over his shoulder as he took his place next to the captain on the transporter pad.

Kirk was the only person in the room who looked directly at him, a wide, unashamed grin radiating from his face. Then he turned away and gave the order to energize.

=(^)=