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Spock raised his hand and saw he now possessed dark skin, and slender fingers with long nails, all perfectly manicured and painted. This confirmed it. His mind was in Lt Uhura's body. "Fascinating!" he said. STAR TREK: PRISONERS by BobH (c) 2014 All characters herein are the property of Paramount Pictures - 1 - Spock woke with a headache. It was the same headache that had been plaguing him since Dr McCoy had restored his brain to his body on Sigma Draconis VI. Though he never said so out loud -in fact often claiming the opposite - he had a high regard for the Doctor's abilities, so it did not seem likely to Spock that he had botched the operation. Then again, the ability to surgically remove and/or restore a brain had only been granted to Dr McCoy by a teaching machine belonging to an advanced civilisation, and then only temporarily. That ability had been ebbing away as he was completing the surgery. It might be prudent to have the Doctor examine him again, but not before he had gotten up and reported to the captain that he was now fit enough to resume his duties. For Spock, showering, getting dressed, and breakfasting in the commissary were all fairly mechanical things he gave little conscious thought to, preferring to engage his mind with more interesting matters as he worked through those mundane tasks. On this morning, as he entered the commissary, Lt Uhura beckoned him over to the table where she was currently eating alone, her accustomed mealtime companions having presumably not yet risen. After getting breakfast from the dispenser, he joined her there. "Good morning, Lieutenant, I trust you are well?" he said, enquiring after her well-being in the manner humans expected. "Good morning, Mr Spock, and yes - I'm just fine. But how are you? It's only been two days since you underwent major surgery." "Dr McCoy is a competent surgeon." "He is, but that's not what I meant. I can't imagine a more major violation of someone's body than removing their brain. That has to have been a traumatic experience. How are you coping?" "I am well." Uhura stared at him for a moment, then sighed in exasperation. Spock had never understood this need of humans in general and women in particular to know how he felt about things. Logically, how something *was* was of greater significance than whatever an individual might feel about it, which would rarely be of any real importance. "Are you ready for the operations meeting?" Uhura asked. "Naturally." The operations meeting was, as its name implied, a monthly meeting in which senior ship's personnel reported to Captain Kirk on matters relating to the day-to-day operation of the Enterprise. It was useful for resolving conflicts between departments and getting things moving that had stalled. Here the Captain's ability to issue executive orders often proved particularly useful. After they had eaten, Spock and Uhura went directly to the conference room. "Ah, Lt Uhura, Mr Spock, pleased you could both join us," said Captain Kirk, as they entered. Scotty and Dr McCoy were already seated in their accustomed places. "Before we get started I'd like to welcome Mr Spock back to full active duty." "Hear, hear," said Scotty, "well done, laddie!" "Thank you, Mr Scott, though I cannot claim any credit for my recovery, I..." He was interrupted by the ship's alarms sounding and the conference table computer terminal activating. Sulu's face appeared on all three faces. "What is it, Mr Sulu?" asked Kirk. "Something small on a collision course with the Enterprise, Captain. It appeared out of nowhere. And I mean that literally. It popped into existence right in front of us. We've tried taking evasive action, but it's still headed straight for us." "Do we know what it is?" "It's a small ball of energy, perfectly spherical, almost six metres in diameter, and scans indicate the presence of both tachyons and chronaton radiation." "So it's some kind of bubble of time energy? Is it possible there's an intelligence guiding it?" "While possible, I would theorize that is not the case in this instance," said Spock, "and that it is being attracted by our warp core emissions. If so, we won't be able to outrun it and it will only speed up the closer it gets. It should pass harmlessly through the structure of the ship, though its effect on living beings is less certain." "Affirmative, Mr Spock," said Sulu, "it's almost upon us and it will pass through the ship at...." "What is it, Mr Sulu?" demanded Kirk. "Captain, it's going to hit you in the conference room!" There was no time to act on his warning. Spock threw his hands up as the energy bubble burst into the room and engulfed them... ..and then found himself under a fierce sun, and lying on sand. Nor was he alone. "Damn!" said McCoy, feelingly. "This sand is hot!" And it was. Very. Along with the others, Spock quickly leapt to his feet. "Is everyone OK?" asked Kirk. "No," said Scotty. "It's like being in a bannock oven. Och, this is no place for a Scotsman. We're from a land of low grey skies and constant drizzle. This might as well be Hell." "It is ferociously hot," said Uhura, "and I speak as someone from a hot country." "Anyone have any idea what just happened to us? Mr Spock?" "Clearly, contact with the 'time bubble' has shunted us to somewhere else in time and space." "Over here!" said McCoy, leading them to where several items scooped up with them from the Enterprise had landed in the sand. Usefully, these consisted of four phasers and a tricorder. "Damn, not a medical tricorder," he said, "so you'd better take it, Spock. And I'm a doctor, so I'm not carrying a phaser." "Strange," said Spock. "As predicted, the bubble passed harmlessly through the structure of the ship or pieces of it would have appeared here with us, yet it picked up these items, none of which are organic." "We need to find cover, and fast," said Kirk, shielding his eyes from the glare, "if we don't we're not going to survive very long." Spock's Vulcan hearing had detected something the others hadn't. "I believe we may find something to our advantage on the far side of that dune," he said, pointing to one of the many that surrounded them. "Lead on, Mr Spock," said Kirk. They fell in behind him in a single file as he led them up and over the dune. On the other side of it they found five live horses. And five dead riders. - 2 - "They haven't been dead very long," said McCoy, after kneeling and examining the bodies, "maybe less than an hour, but I have no idea what killed them." "Whatever it was, their misfortune might be our salvation," said Kirk. "Everyone strip those robes from them and put them on over your uniforms. What's the supply situation, Mr Scott?" "Full water bottles in every saddlebag, but not much in the way of food." "It could be much worse." "Aye, Captain, that it could." "Anyone got any idea where we are?" asked Kirk. "These are fine Arabian horses," said Uhura, who was stroking one of them, "and the saddles are of middle-eastern design, as are the robes those men were wearing. So we're either on Earth or one of our colony planets." "There appears to be sand in every direction for as far as the tricorder's scanners can read," said Spock. "Beyond that, I have nothing to add to Lt Uhura's deductions." Kirk rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "That presents us with a problem. We can't stay here baking in the sun, so which way do we head?" "If I might make a suggestion...?" "Go ahead Mr Spock." "There are tracks showing the direction the riders come from. By definition, they also indicate where they were heading." "So you think we should continue on the same course? Why not? It's as a good a suggestion as any." And so they mounted the horses and set off across the trackless wastes, though whether in the direction of a coast or into the desert's vast, unknowable interior they could not say. Spock spent several hours pondering their apparent good fortune. There were five of them, and soon after arriving here they had quickly discovered five horses, their riders conveniently deceased and having expired from no cause Dr McCoy could determine. Then there were the four phasers. As a doctor McCoy would of course refuse to carry one, so four was the number they needed and the exact number they just happened to find. It seemed unlikely all this was just coincidence. Progress was necessarily slow and measured under that merciless sun, yet they made good time. When night began to descend the stars became visible and Spock took readings. "Conclusions, Mr Spock?" "We appear to be on Earth, in the Middle East, in the year 1191." "1191," said Kirk, "why does that date seem significant?" "The Third Crusade, Captain," said Uhura. "Two years ago, in the year he was crowned King of England, Richard Coeur-de-Leon - the Lionheart - rode out with his knights to join the Third Crusade. Two years earlier, after defeating the Christians at Hattin, Saladin and his Muslim armies had conquered Jerusalem so now, headed by Emperor Frederik I, the knights of Christendom are assembling to liberate the Holy Land." "'Liberate'!" snorted McCoy. "Yes, that was a name for it, I suppose." "Lt Uhura is correct," said Spock. "I would estimate that Richard and King Philip Augustus of France would be attacking the port city of Acre about now. If successful, Richard hoped they would then be able to conclude an armistice with Saladin and force him to cede the coastal strip between Tyre and Jaffa." "It's all academic," said Kirk, "since we are here neither to observe nor interfere with events that are in any case probably happening hundreds of kilometres from our current position." "I believe I may have discovered something of more immediate concern," said Spock, frowning at his tricorder. "According to these readings there is a large energy source beyond the next dune." The sight that greeted them on cresting the dune was unexpected. Below them, the sand gave way to rock, and the rock to the carved pillars and beaten copper walls of an ancient structure. The copper was heavily scored, testament to the passage of many sandstorms, and though the edifice was half buried by the shifting sands, the cleared steps and portico indicated it was inhabited. Its obvious great age suggested it must have been entirely buried by the desert at some point, and if so then someone must have expended great effort to uncover it, but who and why? There was a mystery here, and the problem with mysteries was they could get you killed. Late afternoon had given way to night with a speed that would shock those not used to deserts. Finding torches in their saddle bags, the five lit them before urging their horses down the dune and out onto the paved avenue leading into and through the structure. The weight of millennia pressed down on the brooding stone of the palace, and the only sound to be heard above the hissing desert wind was the clip clop of horses hooves as they filed unspeaking down a deserted avenue that had not known human feet in five hundred generations. There was a *wrongness* about this place. They could all feel it, humans and horses alike. The latter were beginning to get skittish, whinnying and snorting as they would if a large predator was lurking nearby. There was a sudden flurry of motion at the rear of the column, a brief scream that cut off abruptly, and the sound of giant wings beating the air, a sound quickly lost amid the looming stone columns. The others all swung about immediately but it was already too late. Dr McCoy had been at the rear, but now he was gone, vanished without trace. All that remained was his horse, lying there on its side as the blood poured from the wound where something had torn out its throat. "Phasers out and form a defensive circle!" yelled Kirk, but the others, experienced Starfleet officers all, were already doing so, horses facing outward to meet whatever lurked in the shadows. Even before they had finished forming a circle, it struck again, plucking Scotty from his mount while raking the beast's neck with its talons. This was too much for the remaining horses. Panicking they kicked and reared, throwing their riders and bolting back the way they had come. "What *was* that, Captain?" cried Uhura, picking herself up off the floor and falling in beside the others. "What was that thing?" "I only glimpsed it," he said, but it looked like some sort of giant bat." They formed a circle, phasers facing outward, torches held high, but it wasn't enough. The creature came swooping out of the darkness again, gliding fast and silent and giving them no chance to spot it until it was on them once more, dodging phaser blasts with a speed and agility that hardly seemed possible. It knocked Uhura senseless on its first pass, and plucked the other pair's phasers from their hands on its second before carrying Uhura away. And just like that it was down to Kirk and Spock. They stood in the pool of light created by their torches, heads up, defiantly, waiting for death. Then the darkness was gone. With a suddenness that took them by surprise, torches flared into life from where they jutted out of every column and wall, banishing the night. And there he stood, his great bat-wings folding up behind him then somehow being absorbed into the very muscles of his back, a club in each hand. Spock did not recognise his species. "I am Raknor, prince of the void, last of the Azranti," he said, coal- black skin glistening with sweat, his unblinking yellow eyes fixed on them, "and you are prey." "We come in peace," said Kirk. "We don't want to fight you." This was true, Spock knew, but seeing a pair of clubs on the ground, he nevertheless picked them up and passed one to Kirk. It became clear Raknor was not interested in talking when he leapt at them. Spock struck out with his club as did Kirk, but Raknor parried every would-be blow, holding them both at bay almost effortlessly. It was clear to Spock that he was toying with them, enjoying the sport. When Raknor decided to take them down he did so swiftly and brutally. Sidestepping one of Spock's swings, he slammed the base of a club into the back of Spock's head with enough force to send him sprawling, simultaneously knocking Kirk's club aside with his other club before bringing it down hard on his skull. Casting Kirk's unconscious form aside, Raknor pulled Spock to his feet and dragged him into another chamber where the other three lay, unconscious. In the chamber were all manner of devices throbbing with power and giving off the very energy signature his tricorder had detected. They appeared to have been salvaged from a vessel of some kind. "My treasure," snarled Raknor. "Others have tried to take it from me. All have met the same fate that awaits you." He threw Spock roughly to the floor, glaring at him. "It's been nine thousand years since humans walked these halls," he said, "nine thousand years since I fell from the stars after a battle the like of which your feeble mind could not comprehend. The people of Agrador found me in the dunes beyond this city, lying amid the remains of my ship, broken and dying. They nursed me back to health, and I became their god. I killed them all, of course, and the memory of Agrador and her people was lost to history. As I intended it should be. My devices will cover or uncover Agrador at my command. Which makes it the perfect place to hide from the Haakuun." "The Haakuun?" "The hereditary enemy of my people. But enough talk; it's time to feast." He drew back his lips, to bare teeth that resembled nothing so much as those of a shark. Then he leapt, going for Spock's throat.... - 3 - Spock blinked. It was an involuntary action, but when his eyes opened Raknor had gone. So had everything. He was lying on a featureless white plain under a featureless white sky. Around him lay his crewmates, now minus their desert robes, all of them slowly coming to. "What the devil just happened?" asked McCoy "And where are we?" added Scotty. "In the absence of my tricorder, I have no means of determining the answer to either question," said Spock. "I'm not sure it would help here, anyway," said Jim Kirk, getting to his feet. "Wherever we are, there doesn't even appear to be an horizon." YOUR FIRST TEST IS COMPLETE, a voice boomed out of nowhere, AND THE NEXT ABOUT TO BEGIN. THIS TIME, YOU WILL BE HANDICAPPED. The best way to describe what happened next was that reality blinked. One moment they were who they had always been, the next they were someone else. Spock's initial impression was that he had merely moved position and suffered some dulling of the senses, until he saw what appeared to be himself standing a small distance away. At that point he raised his hand and found he now possessed dark skin, and slender fingers with long nails, all perfectly manicured and painted. This confirmed what had actually happened. His mind was in Lt Uhura's body. "Fascinating!" he said, raising an eyebrow. The others had been running their hands over their new bodies in horrified wonder. Now, as the initial shock subsided, they too began to react. "Och, I'm in the doctor's wee body," said Scotty. It was disconcerting to hear a Scottish accent coming out of McCoy's mouth. "And I'm a man!" said Uhura in Scotty's body, running her hands over her new face, and sounding really unhappy about the change. "The strength, the looks, and getting almost a decade taken off the clock are all good," said the man who appeared to be Jim Kirk, before holding up his hands, "but how am I supposed to operate with these things. These are the hands of a brawler, not a surgeon." By a process of elimination that meant only one person could be in Spock's body. "Captain," said Spock, "unlike the others you have yet to say anything. Are you experiencing difficulty?" "Hmmm?" he replied, sounding distracted. "I'm sorry, Uhura...no, not Uhura. With those inflections you have to be Spock, right?" "That is correct." "I haven't said anything because I was trying to adjust to having heightened Vulcan senses. Your hearing is amazing! I can also feel those emergency third eyelids behind the regular pair, though I can't figure out how to close them. And the strength! I feel like I could lift a shuttlecraft." "I would not advise attempting to do so. You would find the feat well beyond your capabilities." "Hey, Spock, how come you're the only one who hasn't been running his hands over his new body?" said McCoy. "Thank you for that, Mr Spock," said Uhura, "I appreciate your restraint." "It was not a matter of restraint," said Spock. "An inspection of my hands was sufficient to confirm whose body I now possessed. After years of serving alongside you on the Enterprise, I am fully aware of what you look like, Lieutenant, so a tactile examination of this body would not have told me anything I did not already know." "Yes, well, whatever the reason, thank you anyway." "Whoever you are, what do you want with us?" demanded Kirk, shouting at the sky. There was no answer. "Whoever or whatever the being is, it clearly believes that we'll be handicapped by having to perform the next fool test it has in mind for us while wearing the wrong bodies," said McCoy. "A reasonable assumption on its part, Doctor," said Spock.... ...then he was somewhere else, with lights on him, and people were clapping and cheering. He was on a stage. Out beyond the lights, those applauding were sitting at tables, with drinks in front of them, many holding cigars. Seated at one of the tables nearest the stage, not applauding but instead seeming surprised to be there, was Jim Kirk. A look passed between them as both he and Spock simultaneously realised they were in a nightclub. Someone grabbed Spock's arm, yanking him to the left. It was a young woman, one of several all now trotting off the stage, and all identically dressed in the same showgirl costume. A quick glance downwards confirmed to Spock that he too was wearing a showgirl costume. "C'mon, Trixie!" said the woman in an urgent whisper, "We gotta get off stage before the stripper comes on." Trixie? Spock let himself be led off the stage while his mind processed what he had seen. The clothing worn by Jim Kirk and the others at those tables had been early 20th century Earth, Prohibition-era, in which case the nightclub would almost certainly have been a speakeasy. Were they somehow back on Sigma Iotia II, the planet they had visited last year whose highly imitative inhabitants had patterned their society after the same period in the worse case of cultural contamination he had ever witnessed? It seemed unlikely. It was more logical to assume the being now manipulating them had used their memories of that encounter to fashion this scenario. Spock followed the other showgirls to their dressing room, where each took a chair in front of a brightly lit mirror. The only free chair was next to the young woman who had led him off stage, so this must clearly be his. "Can I get a cigarette off you, Trix?" she asked, as he took his seat. "I'm all out, but I'll give you one back when we get paid tomorrow." Spock surveyed the cosmetics and other items strewn across the surface in front of him. Among them was an open pack of cigarettes and a matchbook. He passed these across to her. "Thanks, you're a life-saver!" she said, lighting one, inhaling deeply, then blowing a long stream of smoke towards the ceiling with a sigh of relief. It seemed improbable to Spock that giving her a cigarette had saved this young woman's life. From what he understood of the dangers of tobacco, he was more likely to have imperilled it. Looking around, he could see that most of the other women were also lighting-up, filling the room with unpleasant fumes. He wrinkled his nose and frowned at this illogical behaviour. "Don't fall for Rita's sob story," said one of the others, "she's been bumming smokes off us all for days now." "Hey, I said I'll pay youse all back, Mimi, and I will!" protested Rita. The women's chatter subsided when a man entered. It was Captain Kirk. "Uh-oh, here comes your lover-boy," said Rita to Spock, "I know he's a good lookin' guy an' all, but don't let Jimmy go getting you knocked up, Trixie." "I shall endeavour not to," he replied, not recognizing this particular colloquialism. Rita passed him something. It was a condom. "Shall we?" said Kirk, offering his arm when he reached Spock. On a hook beside his mirror hung a fur coat and a cloche hat. Spock donned these then took Kirk's arm. "Where are we going?" he asked, as they left the dressing room. "The Claremont Hotel. Apparently we have a room there, Trixie." "Must you, Captain?" Kirk burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Spock, but I've just never seen you as a 'Trixie'. It's going to take a while to get used to." "You appear to have retained your own name." "Sort of. Apparently, I'm Jimmy 'Fingers' Costello." "'Fingers'?" "Yes, I have no idea why that particular soubriquet. I'd have expected 'Ears'." "Perhaps," said Spock, "and perhaps not." They were approaching the staff exit at the back of the club, behind the kitchens. Next to the door was a wall mirror in which people could check their appearance before leaving the premises. As they drew level with it, Spock turned Kirk around so they were facing it. "Fascinating!" he said, examining the image it revealed. Kirk still had Spock's body and the mirror showed this, but his reflection had human ears and center-parted, heavily pomaded hair. "So that's how everyone sees me?" said Kirk, touching his ears. "It would appear so." Parked in the alley outside was a two seater convertible roadster with the top down. Given the level of ineptitude the captain had demonstrated with similar vehicles on Sigma Iotia II, Spock hoped this was not his. Unfortunately, it was. "Hop in, Spock," he said. "I found the keys for this beauty in my pocket!" In this context 'hop' was an unfortunate choice of words as 'hop' was what it felt like the automobile was doing as it lurched all the way from the nightclub to the hotel. - 4 - "These old cars are a lot of fun," said Kirk enthusiastically when they arrived at the hotel. "I ought to get myself a clean emission version when we get back to Earth." Spock said nothing to this, preferring to knead the sore neck all that lurching along had given him. Nor was it the only part of him that was sore. When they got to their room he took off his hat and coat then kicked off his shoes before collapsing into an armchair. "What is it, Spock. Are you alright?" asked Kirk. "It is the shoes I was wearing," Spock replied, rubbing his feet. "They are what I believe are referred to as 'high heels', and are a singularly illogical design for footwear. Such a heel confers no obvious advantage when walking and, if the aches I am experiencing are any indication, may well damage the feet if worn for any length of time." "Yes, but they look great, particularly with that showgirl costume you're wearing." Spock looked down at himself. "Also impractical," he said, "the sequins serve no logical purpose and the coverage it provides for the breasts is wholly inadequate." Kirk laughed again, and shook his head. "Ah, Mr Spock, don't ever change!" "I had not planned to, Captain." Kirk picked up a bottle of Scotch from the tray on the bedside table and examined the label. "Hmmm, a twelve year old single malt, and a good one too. If this is as authentic as everything else we've seen so far...." He poured some into one of the glasses on the tray and threw it back. "Oh, yes," he said, smacking his lips appreciatively, "that's the real deal. I know I can't tempt you, Mr Spock...." "Actually, Captain, I believe I would like to sample it." Looking surprised, Kirk poured another glass for himself and one for his first officer. "L'chaim," he said, as they clinked their glasses together before throwing back the whiskey. Spock momentarily closed his eyes.... ....and when he opened them found that he was in bed naked, and lying in the arms of the equally naked Jim Kirk, one of whose hands was cradling his right buttock. Kirk looked at him, startled, then leapt out of bed, hands flying down to cover his crotch. "What...what just happened?" he said, grabbing a nearby towel. Spock sat up in bed and looked around the room. An empty whiskey bottle lay on the floor while on the table on his side of the bed was a used condom, knotted closed. "The evidence suggests we became inebriated and then had sexual intercourse," he said. "What?! We can't have!" "I am experiencing a headache that is consistent with excessive consumption of alcohol...." "Me, too," said Kirk, looking sheepish. "...but the suddenness of the transition between us taking that first drink and appearing to wake simultaneously could also suggest no time has in fact elapsed and that the being controlling these events merely altered the scenario once more." "Right, good, let's go with that explanation and never mention this again. And Spock?" "Yes, Captain?" "Could you please cover your breasts? You might be wearing that body at the moment, but they're Uhura's and I really shouldn't be looking at them without her consent." "Of course, Captain. I shall do so immediately." A silk negligee was draped over one of the chairs. Spock got out of bed and donned this, slipping his feet into the pair of mules alongside the chair. As he finished doing so, someone kicked the door open, busting the lock. The man who strode into the room was tall, red-haired, broad, and angry. "There you are!" he said, heading for Spock. Kirk leapt between them. "Who are you?" he said. "You can't just come barging in here like that." "Name's Marvin Sykes," he said, eyes narrowed as he gazed down at Kirk contemptuously, "and I'm here to take my woman home. To a fancy Dan like you she's just another floozie, but she's my wife and the mother of our children." "This guy's your *husband* here?!" said Kirk, looking at Spock. "He's built like a Gorn!" "I hear you're callin' yourself Trixie now," said Sykes, staring at Spock. "Ain't Verna Mae good enough for you no more?" He made to move towards Spock, but Kirk put a hand on his chest. "If you want to get to her, you're going to have to go through me first." "Fine by me," said Sykes, and with a speed that belied his bulk he landed a left hook on Kirk that sent him flying across the room, his towel coming off as he did so. Spock realised Kirk had expected his Vulcan strength to compensate for the size difference between him and Sykes. Had Sykes not been so fast it might have done so. As it was he now lay in a dazed heap and Sykes was moving towards him. Spock jumped between them, hoping Sykes was one of those human males who would not strike a woman. "I will not let you harm the Captain," he said. "'Captain', is it?" he said. "Better than him insisting you call him 'Daddy', I s'pose. Now get outta my way, Verna Mae." "I cannot do that." Sykes narrowed his eyes, then drew his arm back. As the flat of his hand descended Spock winced. It was entirely involuntary, as he braced himself for the blow. It never came. When he opened his eyes he discovered that he and Jim Kirk were back on that white plain, under that white sky. Uhura, Scotty, and McCoy were also back, returned from whatever 'test' they had undergone. All were wearing large hats, and black suits with silver trim. "Why are you three dressed as a Mariachi band?" asked Kirk, rubbing a jaw still sore from the blow Sykes had landed. "We don't want to talk about it!" said Uhura, throwing her sombrero down on the ground with feeling. "Aye, no one will ever know the horrors we've faced!" agreed Scotty, a haunted look in his eyes. "Why are you naked, Captain?" asked McCoy. "Damn!" he said, having momentarily forgotten. "One of you give me his jacket." "Nice negligee," said Uhura to Spock. Then she frowned. "Wait, did you two...?" "What? No, of course not!" said Kirk, hurriedly. "While we do not believe that sexual intercourse took place between us," added Spock, "there remains the small possibility that it did in fact do so." Jaws dropped at this, but what might have been said next was forgotten when reality blinked again.... ....and everyone was once more back in their own bodies, and fully clothed in their own uniforms. Uhura was particularly pleased to be restored, laughing and hugging herself. "What do you think these tests are meant to prove, Mr Spock?" asked Kirk while the others happily reacquainted themselves with their true bodies. "The first faced us with an implacable, unbeatable foe and appeared designed to see how we reacted as a team. While the stakes in the second were lower, we were deliberately disoriented by being given the wrong bodies, but you and I both placed ourselves between Marvin Sykes and the other despite knowing the danger he posed." "We consciously put ourselves in harm's way." "Precisely." "Hmmm. Well let's hope our mysterious puppet master is suitably impressed." The Enterprise appeared in the white sky over their heads. WE HAVE LEARNED WHAT WE NEEDED TO, said the voice. And with that, the Enterprise exploded. Stunned, the group had no time to react because one second they were watching the Enterprise being destroyed, and the next they found themselves aboard the starbase for this sector, looking through the windows at the debris from the explosion that had been transported along with them. There was twisted metal, personal items, and bodies. Lots and lots of bodies. There had been over four hundred crew aboard the Enterprise. All were now dead. THE HAAKUUN WILL PERMIT YOU AS FAR INTO THEIR SPACE AS THIS STARBASE, BUT NO FURTHER. THOSE VIOLATING THIS RULE WILL SUFFER THE SAME FATE AS THE ENTERPRISE. The hours that followed were chaotic and confusing. At the end of them Spock found himself in a room, sitting at a table across from a stern, middle aged woman dressed all in black whose blonde hair was drawn back into a severe bun. This was Colonel Tambor of Starfleet Intelligence. "We are interviewing you and the other Enterprise survivors individually," she explained, her accent English. Spock listened, but he was distracted. He never got distracted, yet he could not get the faces of Sulu, Chekov, and Nurse Chapel...Christine...out of his mind. "Because you were exposed to an omega-level cosmic entity, we have to examine you down to the finest level to make sure that physically and mentally you are who and what you appear to be. Do you understand?" "Affirmative," said Spock. "This procedure is necessarily very intrusive. I will be asking you questions that probe your most personal memories and the deepest secrets of Starfleet that you are privvy to. Do you consent to this procedure?" "Affirmative." "Good, then we'll begin." "Computer, end program," said a voice. And everything vanished. - 5 - "Well, that was interesting," said Sybok, striding into the holo- chamber. The walls, floor and ceiling of the room were black, overlaid with a grid of white lines. It was amazing technology, and it would be decades before the Federation had anything to match it. "Yes," said Kara Summers, who was standing in the middle of the room and staring thoughtfully at a spot on the floor. Sybok knew the dark-haired beauty wasn't the human woman she appeared to be but was in fact an android, the last survivor of a culture now long-dead. She was still dressed in the costume she had worn on Sigma Draconis VI. Having decided she liked the clothing style of that world's women, she had adopted it as her own and had had several versions of it made for her in a variety of colors. "Why not go through with the interrogation?" he asked. "Our Spock experiences no passage of time between one of these sessions and the next unless we want him to. Resume now or a century from now, it would make no difference. Before starting the interrogation I want to make absolutely sure I have all the questions we want answered." "There's been a development on that front." "Really? What?" "I'll get to that - first, I'm curious about the scenarios you put the holo-matrix Spock through." The Spock they were manipulating was not the flesh-and-blood man of the Federation but a copy of his mind they had made on Sigma Draconis VI in that other universe as part of a subterfuge in which his brain had been removed and he had been made to believe it was being used to run the systems of a city on that world. The holo-matrix Spock believed himself to be the real Spock, and to all intents and purposes he was, being a perfect copy of Spock's mind, and if you believed in such things his soul. "Why destroy the Enterprise?" asked Sybok. "For the same reason I only had Spock interact with Kirk, McCoy, Uhura, and Scott," replied Kara. "They were the four who crossed over to our universe, and three of them were also the landing party on Sigma Draconis VI. These are the only Federation personnel we have direct experience of, the only ones we could convincingly model in the holo- chamber. If we got someone wrong Spock would realise immediately that things were not as they appeared. I suspect their Sulu, Chekov, and Nurse Chapel are very different from our own, so I had to keep him away from them. Eventually he would have noticed their absence. By destroying the Enterprise and so 'killing' them and anyone else aboard he might know I eliminated the problem." "I see. Clever. You were created by the Haakuun, were they really like that?" "They were that powerful," said Kara, "but much more benign." "Then why use them that way in your holo-drama?" "Because of limitations I have. I am not equipped with an imagination that lets me create anything new. I can only mix existing elements." "Then Raknor was real, too?" "Oh yes. He was the most powerful of the Void Princes and the only one who escaped when the Haakuun took down the Azranti. The scenario I created of him hiding out in the Middle East during the Crusades is fanciful, but if he survives he would indeed be the last of the Azranti. The Haakuun wiped them out, and good riddance, too. They were a race of alpha-predators the universe is better off without." "You've never told me what happened to the Haakuun." "No, I haven't. One day, perhaps. So, what was this new development you mentioned?" "We've captured one of the Federation's top officers, an admiral. We expected to have to eliminate him, but were able to capture him. He'll know even more than our Spock does." "When we've extracted all the information we can from the holo-matrix Spock, can I keep him?" asked Kara. "Why would you want to?" replied Sybok, genuinely curious. "I'd like to create an android body for him and have him as a companion." "What sort of body did you have in mind?" "As an android I can't give birth, but the idea of being a mother appeals to me, so perhaps I'll have him be my little girl. Or maybe a pet. Do you think he would make a good cat? I could put a limiter on the vocal chords so that he could talk to me when I desired conversation, but only miaow when I didn't." "You think about it, and I will, too. In the meantime I have to take our new prisoner before the Emperor." Sybok found Admiral Cartwright in a holding cell in a lower level of the imperial palace. The two armed guards outside were keeping a watchful eye on him. "Hello, Admiral," said Sybok. "Do you know where you are?" "Having been captured by my doppelganger, and seeing the differences in the uniforms, I don't have to be a genius to figure that out. I'm in the mirror universe, aren't I?" "'Mirror universe'?" "It's what we call your universe, the universe of the Empire. Seems you've found a way over to ours and have started replacing Federation personnel. Has your infiltration been going on for long, or am I the first?" Sybok laughed. "You can't expect me to tell you that, surely?" "A Vulcan who laughs!" said the Admiral, staring at Sybok in amazement. "*Who* are you?" "Ah, so my counterpart isn't as prominent in your universe as I am in mine. Useful to know. Thank you, Admiral." Sybok beckoned for the guards to open the cell. "Where are you taking me?" demanded the Admiral as they led him from the cell then took up positions beside him. "To see the Emperor," said Sybok, "a rare privilege. You're the first Federation officer we've captured - in the flesh, at any rate - and he wants to see you for himself." The throne room was a good ten minute walk from the holding cells, and as they drew closer to it Sybok found himself growing nervous. There was something about the Emperor, something about his supreme confidence and charisma that had always unnerved Sybok. At the doors to the throne room, the imperial guard ushered them through. They then traversed the long aisle lined with more guards that led to the throne itself, and the imposing figure who stood in front of it. Tall, broad-shouldered, and brown-skinned, his black hair pulled into a neat little ponytail, the Emperor stood with his back to them as they entered, gazing at the holographic star map above the throne that showed the vast regions of the alpha quadrant the Empire already controlled. This was the man whose will guided the Empire, shaping the lives of his billions of subjects. Slowly, he turned to face them. "I...I recognise you," said Admiral Cartwright, "why do you look so familiar?" "You know me from your history books, Admiral," said the Emperor. "You may have forgotten who I am, but history never will. My name is Khan...Khan Noonien Singh!" ***************** The End ***************** Note: Chronological order of stories to date (not the order in which I wrote them, but how they fit together): 1. The Final Fate of Janice Lester 2. Mirror Universe Turnabout 3. Interlude on Aragon IV 4. Infiltration 5. Prisoners 6. The Second Life of Janice Lester Since 'The Second Life of Janice Lester' is the bridging tale between the early stories and those set thirty years later (which I've yet to start) it will probably keep moving higher in number for a while yet as I write more early-set tales. The section of this story set in 1191 is adapted from an earlier story 'Mantra: The Rune Agenda'. If you want to see how it plays out with swords rather than phasers you should check it out.