Live Long and Oops

by Zeke

"There's no choice," said Kirk, as the three officers marched resolutely to the transporter room with Chapel trailing behind. "Can't you see? Spock can't endure for much longer. He's got to go through this kal-if-fee, and I won't let him go alone."

"You don't understand! Doctor McCoy, can't you persuade him?"

McCoy put a comforting hand on Chapel's shoulder. "Take it easy, Christine. Remember, I'll be there to make sure nothing happens to them."

"But --!"

"I don't like it either, letting Spock go through some cockamamie ritual. But this is for his own good. It may be dangerous, but --"

"Dangerous?" Chapel was in full panic now. "It's mad! You'll die!"

Kirk grabbed her by the upper arms. "Get a hold of yourself, woman! We're going, and that's that!"

Chapel tried to protest, but somehow she was powerless in the captain's grip. She nodded slowly. After an uncomfortably long interval, Kirk released her and followed the other two into the transporter room.

Scotty was waiting. "I've got the coordinates, Captain. Ready to --"

There was no choice. Chapel desperately tackled the engineer, screaming "I won't let you do it!"

"Stop her!" yelled Kirk. He turned to Spock, who would normally be the man for this job, but it was all the half-Vulcan could do to stand up straight. Fortunately, McCoy was already in motion, hypospray at the ready. Struggling to hold Scotty down, the frantic nurse noticed McCoy too late; with a hiss, the fight was over. She tried to stay up, but with a final "It's not...!", she slid to the floor, inert.

"Sorry about that," said McCoy to the others as he helped Scotty up. "I had no idea she was so worried about Spock. Seems to have made her irrational."

Kirk simply rolled his eyes. "Women."

The distraction taken care of, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beamed off the ship.

They materialized in the airless void of space.

"Oh," Kirk tried to say, but the expulsion of the remaining air in his lungs made no sound.

Spock, in his state of uncontrolled emotion, grinned at being the last to die.

"And that," explained Kla'rok a hundred years later, "is how we Klingons became the undisputed masters of the galaxy."

His young son was perplexed. "What did we have to do with it?"

"We didn't stop Vulcan from being destroyed, that's what!"

"Could we have stopped it? Did we even know it was happening?"

Kla'rok glared. "The important thing is that as a result, James T. Kirk beamed himself into space thinking there was a planet there. Without him to singlehandedly save the Federation from us twice a year, we conquered the galaxy! None now dare to stand against us!"

"None? What about the Tribborg?"

Kla'rok suppressed a shudder. "They are no threat!"

"But I heard on the news that they destroyed our --"

The young Klingon's protest was interrupted by his own blood gurgling up his throat. He fell down dead, Kla'rok's dagger protruding from his chest.

Kla'rok's wife heard the noise, came to see what had happened, and sighed heavily. "Again?"

"We will get it right next son," said Kla'rok.

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