Disclaimer: Lady Chekov doesn't own any bit of star Trek. It belongs to Gene Roddenberry.
"Like Ice"
by Lady Chekov
The sharp wind, laden with caustic bits of snow, tore the breath from the back of Hikaru Sulu's throat. He squinted at the sudden, emblazing white landscape around him and tried to ignore the searing flakes that drove into his skin. Whispers of the first strong breeze tickled his chin and behind his ears in a mocking manner, hinting toward an itch that didn't exist.
Captain Kirk's tenor voice boomed to the landing party and Sulu shook off the original disorientation. He stepped ahead, glad that his footwear enabled him to walk on tops of the banks of snow, estimated to be ten feet deep in certain places. At the edge of his vision, he could see one of Chekov's security guards standing to his left. One was poised close to Uhura, another beside the young ensign behind him and Chekov, himself, taking the lead stride by stride with Captain Kirk. The captain had asked before beaming down if some much security was necessary. Lt. Chekov had looked at his commanding officier, his young eyes grave, and said,"The security of my keptin and the crew is most neessary, sair." Something close to a smile had lit Kirk's hazel eyes and he'd nodded, "You make a good case, Leuitenant, carry on." Nothing could've matched the look of dedication and pride that blended on Chekov's sharp features.
****************************
Captain Kirk trudged onward, hoping the cold would help sqelsh the irritation he felt. Starfleet Command had stuffed this assignment down his throat, as an order, not a request. No ambassadors freed at this time, they'd said. An intelligent race seeking military aid and who better to repersent the Federation than the military hero himself,Captain James Tiberius Kirk!!!!!!! He felt as if he were being exploited and he didn't like that. Not at all. With a sigh that was snatched up by another forceful wind, he flipped open the cover on his communicator and brought as close to his lips as possible. "Landing party to Enterprise!"
The words met a staticy kiss in reply. "Enterprise! Come in, Enterprise!"
There was supposed to be hardly any interference. Spock had said so before the party'd beamed down.
Kirk cursed and slapped the futile device back onto his belt. Suddenly, he felt a whole lot colder.
"Keptin, vat is it?"
Chekov was a phantom, sliding up beside Kirk like his shadow. "My communicator isn't working," Kirk explained, his tone calling the situation anything but casual.
Chekov immediately checked his own and his brow puckered as he shook his head negatively. "No reply,sair. How wery strange."
****************************
"Mr. Spock?"
The timide voice floated across the bridge. A browneyed back up communications officer looked anxiously at the Vulcan. "Yes, Ensign? Is there a problem?" "Uh........I think so, sir............um.....I.....I...can't seem to raise the landing party...there's much interference, sir."
Spock's pencil-thin brow rose a half-inch and he moved from the command chair to the science console. A moment later, his eyebrow jumped again.
"The ceased contact is no wrongdoing on your part, ensign. It appears a sheild has been erected over our landing party, blocking communicatons and transport, too, I presume." Spock's glittering dark eyes fled to the veiwscreen where the homely gray planet rotated around its lonesome white star. "The sheild seems to be highly sophicated in struc-" Green flames burst from Spock's console, bolts of electricity searing up his arms and entangling his body with their fiery hold.
He collapsed to his knees, fighting off the pain madly. A hand touched his shoulder. Concern. Confusion. Compassion. Emotions, not his own, rushed unbidden into his mind.
"Doctor, Don't touch me!"
Spock shouted, yanking away from the withered comfort. But the eyes were still there, Prying eyes raised across the bridge all watching him flail about the deck. The eyes of the crew, feeding him distressing traces of fear, awe and suprise. The last image to sear his tortured thoughts was a pair of opalescent orbs, alive with rage and flame.......then, Spock lost conciousness and Doctor Mccoy scrambled to his aid.
*****************************
The trees formed a barrier against the lashing wind. The odd-shaped braches streched out like broken fingers, knobbed at odd angles. They reminded Uhura of Earth pines in a strange way, like the resemblence between a house mouse and sewer rat. She sighed, tugging her feild jacket collar closer up around her throat.
"No luck," She announced, sadly gesturing to the disemboweled remains of her communicator. "The jamming is absolute.There's no way around it."
"Could it be the Klingons, sir?"
Ensign Laking piqued, his voice wavering thinly in the cold air. The thought hung among them a moment, causing the tension to thicken so much it could've only been cut with a knife. Kirk's voice was a steel blade.
"Unless the Federation has been selling secrets to the Empire, I highly doubt our Klingon friends are that intelligent."
Laking blushed a vibrant red and plopped down on a boulder, "y.....yes, sir.....," he stammered, chastened but reassured.
"I think the mission should continue despite the communications crash," Kirk decided reluctantly, pacing to and fro with determination. There wasn't much else he could do in this situation. sitting around freezing to death while awaiting the Enterprise's call couldn't be a valid option.
"Our rendezvous point is 15 kilometers North," Sulu added, helpfully. One of the security guards groaned aloud.
"The Solotans might be able to help us, sir," Uhura put in, her eyes shining with new hope, "they must have some kind of communicating device."
Kirk stood, filled with pride for his able officiers.
"The plan is made then................now, we walk."
Commander Sulu looked out at the vast expanse of white, dotted with tree trunks and shrivelled stunted evergreens............and found himself shuddering.
******************************
Fires raged in Spock's sleep, twisting serpents of lime green flame.
"What is it that angers you?"
He begged of the unblinking white eyes.
"FEDERATION LIES!!!!!!!"
The bitter voice came from everywhere and no where.
"FEDERATION MURDERS!!!!"
"The Federation protects its members," Spock concluded logically.
A banshee scream of anger jolted through his mind.
"MURDERS!!!!!!!!!!COWARDS!!!!!!!!!"
Spock sat bolt upright in bed. Sickbays gentle whirrs and murmurs immediately washed away the visicious screams. The bland StarFleet issue walls wiped the fire from his eyes. But the memory was still very clear.
"Spock!"
McCoy hurried across the room, his concerned gaze measuring the first officier's outward appearance as well as the Vulcan's statistics being pulsed out of the diagnostic headboard.
"How do you feel??"
"An invalid question, doctor, considering my Vulcan heritage........"
"Don't feed me that, Spock!!!" McCoy spat, his craggy face drawn with true distress,
"What the hell is wrong?"
"I believe I have been contacted,"
Spock still sat ramrod straight, his hands clasped in a meditative position in front of him. The doctor's light blue eyes searched the Vulcan in confusion.
"Huh?"
"The Solotans do not wish to contacted by the Federation. I find it necessary that the ship be put on red alert. The landing party must be quickly retrieved. The rage that has been revealed to me..........," Spock hesistated, his clasped hands tightening ever so slightly,
"....seems completely capable of killing."
"Like Ice"
by Lady Chekov
The sharp wind, laden with caustic bits of snow, tore the breath from the back of Hikaru Sulu's throat. He squinted at the sudden, emblazing white landscape around him and tried to ignore the searing flakes that drove into his skin. Whispers of the first strong breeze tickled his chin and behind his ears in a mocking manner, hinting toward an itch that didn't exist.
Captain Kirk's tenor voice boomed to the landing party and Sulu shook off the original disorientation. He stepped ahead, glad that his footwear enabled him to walk on tops of the banks of snow, estimated to be ten feet deep in certain places. At the edge of his vision, he could see one of Chekov's security guards standing to his left. One was poised close to Uhura, another beside the young ensign behind him and Chekov, himself, taking the lead stride by stride with Captain Kirk. The captain had asked before beaming down if some much security was necessary. Lt. Chekov had looked at his commanding officier, his young eyes grave, and said,"The security of my keptin and the crew is most neessary, sair." Something close to a smile had lit Kirk's hazel eyes and he'd nodded, "You make a good case, Leuitenant, carry on." Nothing could've matched the look of dedication and pride that blended on Chekov's sharp features.
****************************
Captain Kirk trudged onward, hoping the cold would help sqelsh the irritation he felt. Starfleet Command had stuffed this assignment down his throat, as an order, not a request. No ambassadors freed at this time, they'd said. An intelligent race seeking military aid and who better to repersent the Federation than the military hero himself,Captain James Tiberius Kirk!!!!!!! He felt as if he were being exploited and he didn't like that. Not at all. With a sigh that was snatched up by another forceful wind, he flipped open the cover on his communicator and brought as close to his lips as possible. "Landing party to Enterprise!"
The words met a staticy kiss in reply. "Enterprise! Come in, Enterprise!"
There was supposed to be hardly any interference. Spock had said so before the party'd beamed down.
Kirk cursed and slapped the futile device back onto his belt. Suddenly, he felt a whole lot colder.
"Keptin, vat is it?"
Chekov was a phantom, sliding up beside Kirk like his shadow. "My communicator isn't working," Kirk explained, his tone calling the situation anything but casual.
Chekov immediately checked his own and his brow puckered as he shook his head negatively. "No reply,sair. How wery strange."
****************************
"Mr. Spock?"
The timide voice floated across the bridge. A browneyed back up communications officer looked anxiously at the Vulcan. "Yes, Ensign? Is there a problem?" "Uh........I think so, sir............um.....I.....I...can't seem to raise the landing party...there's much interference, sir."
Spock's pencil-thin brow rose a half-inch and he moved from the command chair to the science console. A moment later, his eyebrow jumped again.
"The ceased contact is no wrongdoing on your part, ensign. It appears a sheild has been erected over our landing party, blocking communicatons and transport, too, I presume." Spock's glittering dark eyes fled to the veiwscreen where the homely gray planet rotated around its lonesome white star. "The sheild seems to be highly sophicated in struc-" Green flames burst from Spock's console, bolts of electricity searing up his arms and entangling his body with their fiery hold.
He collapsed to his knees, fighting off the pain madly. A hand touched his shoulder. Concern. Confusion. Compassion. Emotions, not his own, rushed unbidden into his mind.
"Doctor, Don't touch me!"
Spock shouted, yanking away from the withered comfort. But the eyes were still there, Prying eyes raised across the bridge all watching him flail about the deck. The eyes of the crew, feeding him distressing traces of fear, awe and suprise. The last image to sear his tortured thoughts was a pair of opalescent orbs, alive with rage and flame.......then, Spock lost conciousness and Doctor Mccoy scrambled to his aid.
*****************************
The trees formed a barrier against the lashing wind. The odd-shaped braches streched out like broken fingers, knobbed at odd angles. They reminded Uhura of Earth pines in a strange way, like the resemblence between a house mouse and sewer rat. She sighed, tugging her feild jacket collar closer up around her throat.
"No luck," She announced, sadly gesturing to the disemboweled remains of her communicator. "The jamming is absolute.There's no way around it."
"Could it be the Klingons, sir?"
Ensign Laking piqued, his voice wavering thinly in the cold air. The thought hung among them a moment, causing the tension to thicken so much it could've only been cut with a knife. Kirk's voice was a steel blade.
"Unless the Federation has been selling secrets to the Empire, I highly doubt our Klingon friends are that intelligent."
Laking blushed a vibrant red and plopped down on a boulder, "y.....yes, sir.....," he stammered, chastened but reassured.
"I think the mission should continue despite the communications crash," Kirk decided reluctantly, pacing to and fro with determination. There wasn't much else he could do in this situation. sitting around freezing to death while awaiting the Enterprise's call couldn't be a valid option.
"Our rendezvous point is 15 kilometers North," Sulu added, helpfully. One of the security guards groaned aloud.
"The Solotans might be able to help us, sir," Uhura put in, her eyes shining with new hope, "they must have some kind of communicating device."
Kirk stood, filled with pride for his able officiers.
"The plan is made then................now, we walk."
Commander Sulu looked out at the vast expanse of white, dotted with tree trunks and shrivelled stunted evergreens............and found himself shuddering.
******************************
Fires raged in Spock's sleep, twisting serpents of lime green flame.
"What is it that angers you?"
He begged of the unblinking white eyes.
"FEDERATION LIES!!!!!!!"
The bitter voice came from everywhere and no where.
"FEDERATION MURDERS!!!!"
"The Federation protects its members," Spock concluded logically.
A banshee scream of anger jolted through his mind.
"MURDERS!!!!!!!!!!COWARDS!!!!!!!!!"
Spock sat bolt upright in bed. Sickbays gentle whirrs and murmurs immediately washed away the visicious screams. The bland StarFleet issue walls wiped the fire from his eyes. But the memory was still very clear.
"Spock!"
McCoy hurried across the room, his concerned gaze measuring the first officier's outward appearance as well as the Vulcan's statistics being pulsed out of the diagnostic headboard.
"How do you feel??"
"An invalid question, doctor, considering my Vulcan heritage........"
"Don't feed me that, Spock!!!" McCoy spat, his craggy face drawn with true distress,
"What the hell is wrong?"
"I believe I have been contacted,"
Spock still sat ramrod straight, his hands clasped in a meditative position in front of him. The doctor's light blue eyes searched the Vulcan in confusion.
"Huh?"
"The Solotans do not wish to contacted by the Federation. I find it necessary that the ship be put on red alert. The landing party must be quickly retrieved. The rage that has been revealed to me..........," Spock hesistated, his clasped hands tightening ever so slightly,
"....seems completely capable of killing."