Title: A Series of Laughs – 6
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Drabble fill for trek_crackbingo prompt: super secret ability, mirror!verse.
Previous Fills: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“Super secret abilities.” James T. Kirk pauses, meets random pairs of eyes in the crowd. Most of the recipients of his hard stare flinch and look away. The man’s voice is sharp and booming, thanks to the voice enhancer built into the podium. “Each of you must come forward on the day that you are assigned and undergo testing by a specially trained group of professionals who will identify and isolate any undocumented ability that you may have.” Are hiding from your superiors is very much implied in the Captain’s announcement.

There is a low murmuring through the four hundred plus crewmen of the ISS Enterprise.

An ensign raises his hand hesitantly. “Like… a superpower? Sir.”

The Captain’s eyes fall to half-mast. “Stand up.”

The wide-eyed ensign does so.

Kirk promptly shoots the idiot with his phaser. The man disappears, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Relevant questions,” he tells them coldly. “Ask only relevant, intelligent questions—or keep your mouths shut. Dismissed.”

Captain Kirk exits, followed closely by his First Officer. The rest of the crew quickly file out and go back to work. If people are jumpy for the remainder of their shifts, this is to be expected.

Many of them did lie just a tad on their ‘Fleet applications.

Two days later…

“Damn it! Hold him down!”

McCoy wields his scalpel like the weapon that it is. The scared air-bound lieutenant flits by them, knocking over a tray in the process. McCoy has never seen anything as ridiculous as a full grown man being chased through medical bay by irate nurses.

He’d laugh if he wasn’t so damn pissed at Kirk for instigating this new reign of terror on the ISS Enterprise. Spock, that bastard of a bearded Vulcan, takes this grave moment of embarrassment in Dr. McCoy’s Sickbay to enter, pause, and observe the mess.

“You may contact Lieutenant Sulu for security’s assistance if you require it, Doctor.”

“Shut it, half-breed,” snaps the man. “We’re—”

There is the sound of a crash and a loud scream from the ensign in the adjacent room.

“—taking care of it,” he finishes with satisfaction. “What the Hell is Kirk up to? I’ve got better things to do than poke and prod every unsightly pore of this pathetic crew.”

“I must have your results thus far.” Spock ignores his bitching.

McCoy shoves a few items with his foot, sees a partially cracked PADD, and tosses it at the Vulcan. “Here. Take a gander.” He pulls another scalpel seemly out of thin air. “Haven’t had time to add the latest fool—he’s a flyer, apparently, and forgot to let the ‘Fleet know—but that won’t make much difference.”

The Vulcan tucks the PADD under his arm. “Why would that be, Doctor McCoy?”

The man’s grin is telling. “‘Cause ain’t none of ’em worth worrying over, Mr. Spock. They’re dead.” He scratches his chin in an absent gesture. “So if you’ll excuse me… I’m sure that Nurse Chapel has sedated our bird-man by now. I’ve got an examination to finish.”

McCoy turns and walks away to complete a task that might prove to be entertaining after all.

Five days after that…

While the ship lurches through space in a chaotic state, Kirk sits in his Captain’s chair idly peeling an organically grown apple with a sharp blade. (No one asks where the apples come from, wouldn’t dare to.)

“Report, Mr. Spock. What have we discovered so far?”

“I have completed a detailed report on the matter, Captain. It is available—”

The Captain waves his knife languidly. “Just give me the highlights. Who is valuable to the ship and have we eliminated those that aren’t?”

The Vulcan stares at the back of the Captain’s head. “As of the end of gamma shift, fifty-three persons have evacuated their posts—” Kirk twists in his chair to frown at the Vulcan. “—and one hundred five persons have suffered irreparable damage during Doctor McCoy’s medical examinations.”

“What do you mean, evacuated?”

Mr. Spock recites in a monotone, “There are twenty-nine suicides by phaser, a fatal brawl between two crewmen with the ability to grow in size and strength which resulted in twelve deaths, seven unclassifiable accidents, three drownings, and two missing persons which I suspect molecularly reassembled in a different sector of space.”

“How many living have not undergone testing, Mr. Spock?”

“Two hundred and sixty-five individuals.”

“Have them rounded up.”

“This estimate includes the primary bridge crew and yourself, Captain.”

“Fine. Everyone but me. And you, Mr. Spock. Perhaps Doctor McCoy… though he did ruin over a hundred potential candidates. That’s an uncanny ability in itself, don’t you think, Mr. Spock?”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“Then I’ll allow you to conduct his interrogation personally.”

“As you command, Sir.”

The Vulcan does not immediately return to the laboratories now solely dedicated to the Captain’s current project. The expected question comes.

“Spock. One last thing.”

“Captain.”

“You aren’t hiding more than standard Vulcan prowess, are you?” Kirk’s eyes are bright but cold. “Replacing a First Officer is a pain—constant supervision and underhanded dealing.” He has a shark’s grin.

Spock purposefully lifts an eyebrow in a show of disregard for Kirk’s implied warning. “I remain, Captain, in the state in which I joined the Enterprise under Pike’s rule.”

An answer that isn’t an answer. The Captain gives him a lazy look. “Dismissed.”

With a tilt of his head, the Vulcan exits the bridge. When Spock is alone in the turbolift, having easily tossed out two whimpering, pitiful ensigns, he unclasps the hands behind his back and drives a fist into wall with a sizable burst of energy. Mr. Spock notes that the burn mark now circling the dent in the metal indicates that his aim is still satisfactory.

He orders the lift, “Deck 37, Medical.”

Once McCoy is taken care of—barring any unforeseen abilities that the psychotic doctor may have—Spock can focus on augmenting the Captain’s paranoia until the path is clear of all obstacles. It also helps that he can seduce a fragile mind into believing the improbable. Even the ungifted members of this crew can be easily manipulated into joining the insanely terrified ranks of the ship.

Then the First Officer shall commandeer the ISS Enterprise with all the grace and glory of a rattler in the weeds.

7

Related Posts:

• A Series of Laughs – 9 – from February 9, 2011
• A Series of Laughs – 8 – from January 16, 2011
• A Series of Laughs – 7 – from December 11, 2010
• A Series of Laughs – 5 – from December 8, 2010
• A Series of Laughs – 4 – from December 3, 2010