Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Your Enemy is Dead Part I

Title: Your Enemy is Dead
Author: ProvidenceMine
Fandom: Star Trek
Series: TOS
Parts: 1/9
Rating: [NC-17] for sexual content
Codes: R/m, K, U, Mc, Ch, Sc
Archiving: Yes, please
Summary: Janice Rand meets someone new and learns to move on from her affections towards Captain Kirk.
Disclaimer: Paramount Pictures owns all of Star Trek and its characters.  This is simply fan fiction, and I don’t expect to profit from this or any story that I write from hereafter.
Notes: The Orion Syndicate, and the seducing powers of Orion women, appeared on the television show Enterprise. 

Your Enemy is Dead    Chapter I

In the small corner room of Captain Kirk’s quarters, Yeoman Janice Rand sat at her desk sorting through the captain’s logs.  She checked every recording disk meticulously, as she labeled, filed, and stacked them to Starfleet’s specifications.  While Rand was finishing up with the tedious work, the door to the captain’s quarters opened. 

Rand looked up, both relieved and excited.  She was relieved because she had literally just finished with her work, and was secretly satisfied with herself of that fact.  She was excited because the captain had arrived.  Very excited indeed. Rand patted her hairdo and brushed her finger to her glossed lips in a last-minute attempt to catch Kirk’s eye.

 “Here he comes,” said Rand under her breath.  Her heart pounding wildly under her uniform, she dutifully sprang up from her chair and stood to attention, like a girl scout.

Captain Kirk entered, clearly preoccupied as he glanced around his quarters unfocused and disinterested.  Rand looked at Kirk with affectionate eyes as she attempted to greet him.

 “Yeoman,” Kirk spoke brusquely, cutting her off.  “Are the ship’s Manifests from last month finally in order?”  His emphasis on the word ‘finally’ stung Rand, knocking her out of the reverie she enjoyed just a few moments ago.

 “Uh, yes sir,” she stammered.  She reached for the recording wafers and held them in her hands.  “I have them right here.  All in alphabetical order, sir.  You’ll see that I checked…”

 “What about the logs on the mission to Banal II?”   The captain was clearly on a roll, prattling off orders like they were running off an assembly line.  Rand felt like she was standing on the end of that line, barely able to keep up with the demand.
“Well, I haven’t started on those yet, sir.  You told me to focus on the logs that I’ve just finished…” 

“The logs to the Banal II Mission must be done Yeoman, that’s an order.”

The whole time that Captain Kirk was talking to her, he never once looked her way.  Clearly, he found the corners of his quarters much more appealing in his present mindset.  The captain continued to drone out orders while he walked over to his desk and sat down.  Without turning to face her, he raised his finger as if to remind himself of something.

“Oh, I’ve noticed that you’re running out of recording wafers.  You might want to go down to pick up a new supply,” he said as he switched on his computer.

 Rand stood in her spot, feeling dejected.  “ I’ll get on that right away, sir,” Rand said sheepishly.

 “Get on that now--the sooner, the better.  In the meantime, the Manifests.”

Kirk held out his hand, his palm outstretched.  Rand looked down at the Manifests she held in her hands, and for a brief moment, had a fantasy about telling the captain where he could stick his Manifests.  Instead, she dutifully walked over to the captain and placed the wafers in his hand.  During this exchange, their fingers brushed together ever so delicately.  This was the first time this morning, since Kirk entered his quarters, that he looked up at Rand.  Their eyes met for a fleeting, awkward, tender moment.  But then, Kirk suddenly turned his eyes away and buried his mouth in his fist, clearing his throat as he turned back to his computer.  That little glow that was trying to make a comeback in Rand’s chest had died out like a petering candle flame.  Rand felt like she’d been slapped in the face, as she turned and headed for the door.

“Oh, Yeoman, one more thing,” said Kirk, focused on his computer screen again.  “I could really use a pot of coffee, and two of those incredible cinnamon rolls they have in the galley.  I’d really appreciate it.” 

Kirk’s voice trailed off while he busied himself with his work.  Rand shook her head as she walked through the sliding doors, her brain reeling from the list of orders rattled off to her by the captain.  When the doors closed behind her, she turned to them and performed a half-hearted, deriding salute. 

“And a good fucking morning to you too, sir,” she sneered before turning on her heels and starting down the hall.

Rand carried her tray with a fresh pot of coffee, a mug, and two cinnamon buns over to the supply room--which was mercifully just a few doors down from the small eatery she’d just left.  “Thank God for small favors,” she thought.  When she reached the storage room she almost ran into Yeoman Toms, who served in the Medical Records Department of the Enterprise.

“Whoa, Janice!” He exclaimed with both arms in the air.  Rand was able to pull back in time, her tray balanced expertly between her nimble hands.  

 “Oh, shit! The last thing I need! I’d have to run back to get another damn pot of coffee,” she complained.

“You don’t seem too happy,” Toms chuckled as he maneuvered out of Rand’s way.

  “It’s not that, so much,” sighed Rand, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Oh, it’s not what?” 

 “You know, it’s just the same old ‘do this, get that, oh, and don’t forget to clip my toenails,” Rand said, exasperated.

  She shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” assured Toms with a wave of his hand.

  “If you want something to complain about, try dealing with Dr.McCoy’s bitching all day.”

  Rand nodded her head, pursing her lips.  “You got a point there, Kiddo.  I’d rather be dismissed and ignored then be pursued and chomped on.”

 They both laughed, a tinge of sarcasm laced in their mirth.  “Hang in there, Jan,” mused Yeoman Toms.

He waved Goodbye, tucking a supply of padd batteries under his arm before making his exit.  Rand chuckled as she entered the supply room.

Rand snorted when she saw the sign in front of her that screamed with large white letters imbedded in a black background; NO FOOD OR BEVERAGES ALLOWED!  Walking past the batteries, the padds, the various glues and cleaning fluids, she spotted the recording wafers, which were set up neatly in rows.  Rand reached for a box, placed it on the tray, turned to leave, thought better of it, turned back to get three more boxes, and then headed towards the door. 

“Just in case,” she thought.  “We’ll have enough of these so that Sir Kirk will have a while before suggesting that I might want to stock up on some more.”

  Placing the last box on her tray, she promptly headed for the door, but it wouldn’t slide open for her. 

“That’s peculiar.” Rand thought.  She proceeded to push the side button to the door. 


 “What the fuck? Am I stuck here?”

 A mix of annoyance and panic plagued her patience as Rand put the tray down and pushed the button again.  And again.  And again--almost slamming the button with the side of her fist.

It opened, though rather sluggishly.  Throwing her hands up in the air and imitating a chorus of angels singing, Rand picked up her tray and briskly headed towards the door again.

The door shut in her face, yet again.

 “Oh, come on,” yelled Rand, stomping her foot in frustration.  Then suddenly, without any warning, the supply room tilted sharply.

Rand reeled along, knocking against the supply shelves and careening backwards while the pot of coffee tipped and flew open.  The scolding liquid escaped from the container as it reached Rand’s face and chest, searing her pores like a legion of needles.  Blinded, Rand tumbled over and fell against a shelf, banging the back of her head.  The turbulence literally pinned her down against the corner of the storage room.  Rand opened her mouth to scream, unable to hear it against the commotion of supplies that flew, darted, and bounced around her.  She shook with the force of the turbulence, while the bile from below her stomach started to rise. 

“Please, Janice!  Whatever you do, don’t throw up,” she thought to herself while she felt the burning of her throat rise up precipitously.  Then, just as sudden as it began, the commotion stopped.  A dead quiet took over the room as Rand sat in the corner, burned, shaken, and nauseous, her face and chest tender from the hot coffee that had assaulted her.  The ship was still.  The chaos was over.  Or, so she hoped.  Rand tried to get up, but between the vertigo in her head and the twisting bile in her stomach, her efforts were futile.

From behind the malfunctioning door, voices cut though the deafening silence.  At first, Rand couldn’t hear them clearly, but they sounded like two men.  She craned her neck, trying to hear what they were saying, but a splitting pain sliced through her head, causing her to recoil.  Both of Rand’s hands were pressed against her temples as she curled herself back in the corner.

 “I thought I heard someone scream,” one of the voices had said.

“I heard it too! It came from the supply room!”

 Rand looked up, her knees drawn underneath her, her palms closed around her temples.

“Please, get me outta here!” she bellowed with what little strength she could out of herself.

The door jiggled sideways, making a clicking sound with each sluggish movement.

“It’s not opening.  Give me the screwdriver.”

There was more clicking while the door jiggled and thumped fruitlessly.  Rand looked on, wondering if she’d ever get out of this god-forsaken room. 

“Damn!  The door’s jammed,” said one of the voices from behind the door.

 “No Shit, Sherlock,” Rand thought to herself.

“I’ll have to push it open.”

“Think you can do it?”

 “Of course I can,” said the first voice, matter-of-factly.

 Rand couldn’t believe what she’d heard. 

“What is he, Superman?” she snickered.  “I really don’t care what he is, as long as he can get me the fuck out of here!”

 The door creaked as it opened slightly.  Then, a single hand gripped itself onto the edge of the door, and pushed it back into its slit with one solid heave. 

“Oh, my God!  Not even Spock could do that with one hand!  Who is this guy?”  Rand thought to herself with wonder.

The young man released his grip from the door and looked around, shaking his head when he observed the mess on the supply room floor.  He sighed a deep breath before looking up and spotting Rand cowering in the corner.  Rand responded to the stranger by pressing herself against the wall.  The young officer stepped over the mess, heading towards her with an outstretched hand. 

“Ma’am, are you all right?”  His voice, deep and resonate, expressed concern. 

While this man inched closer, Rand could feel herself pressing even harder against the wall behind her, frightened a bit by the imposing figure coming closer to her.  His steps were strident, but also hesitant, as if sensing her fear. 

“ I can see you’re startled.  Please, don’t be afraid of me.  As you can plainly see, I’m one of you.”

 Rand could clearly see that he was one of them, this man who was strong enough to open a door with one hand; a door that would normally take around four men to dislodge.

The young man wore the red uniform shirt of an engineering officer of the Enterprise, the bottoms of his sleeves each embroidered with a single gold ring, indicating lieutenant rank.  He was easily one of the tallest men in the crew, his powerful physique molding the fabric without appearing too tight.  His blue-black hair even sported the neat trim cut worn by many male members of the crew.  But for Rand, it wasn’t the height, or the physique that made her wary of this young officer.

It was the color of his skin.

The young engineering officer’s skin color was green, the mark of an individual whose origins were rooted in the distant planet of Orion.

 “An Orion in Starfleet?  Since when?” thought Rand.

 Orion was not a member planet of the Federation, and it had a notorious reputation for playing both sides of the fence in political matters--like a double agent.

Rand looked up from her vantage point at this striking figure, now standing right over her.  Her head was foggy and light, like it would float up and carry her away from where she sat.  The young man lowered his imposing body into a crouching position, so that he was just a little over eye level to Rand.  He leaned towards her, placing a large hand on the side of her upper arm. 

“Ma’am, are you all right?  Do you have any injuries?”  the Orion asked her gently as he
 peered directly into Rand’s eyes.

  His violet eyes were alert and quick, darting around and probing into her, as if searching for some sign of life.  Rand sat there, waiting and watching while this stranger looked deeply into her eyes.  His eyes were alien in their ungodly shade, and disconcerting in their intensity.  Strangely, though, there was a gentleness to them that Rand couldn’t quite understand.  She felt as if she should have been fearful, but she wasn’t.

 “Ma’am did you suffer any injuries?”  The young Orion moved his head sideways, observing Rand.  “I see your face appears red, particularly around the eye area.”

When Rand finally spoke it was with difficulty, as she fought to swallow down the bile that continued to work its way up her throat.  “Coffee splashed on my face, and I fell on the back of my head real hard,” said Rand in a feeble voice.

 “Lean your head forward, please,” the Orion said softly.

 Gently, he placed his hands behind Rand’s shoulders and rested her head on his broad chest.  “Now, hold still,” he said.

 Gingerly, his large fingers tunneled their way through blond hair to the injured area, the upper back portion of the head.

 “Oh, yeah.  I can feel it right here.  It’s a pretty nasty bump that you have.  It must be tender.”  Rand nodded in the affirmative, saying yes.

“For someone who isn’t a doctor, this guy sure has a good bedside manner,” she thought.  “Maybe Dr.McCoy could pick up some pointers.” 

The Orion’s voice, while strong and resonant, had a soothing affect upon Rand that made her feel at ease.  His body heat radiated and enveloped Rand as he eased his fingers out of her hair, tucked them under her chin, and tilted her head. 

  “The swelling on your face looks like it’s gotten worse.  Exactly what were you doing,
 bringing beverages into the supply room?  That’s a total no no,” he said, wagging a finger at her mockingly.

 Rand laughed, albeit tightly, her face still very tender from the hot coffee. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you laugh,” the Orion said.

 His hands were large, but he worked delicately on Rand while he checked for further injuries.  Rand found the Orion’s touch soothing like his voice, maybe a little too soothing as she reached over and placed her hand on his right upper arm.  The bicep underneath the Orion’s sleeve was well-defined, hard and round under Rand’s slender fingers.  “Oh, my God,” she thought startled, but not displeased.  Rand looked up at the Orion’s young face when a crashing sound was heard. 


 The Orion turned away from Rand without removing himself from her.

 “What happened?  Are you all right, Pennebaker?”

 Lt.Pennebaker’s voice conveyed more annoyance than injury.  “Yeah, man.  I think I slipped on something,” he said, helping himself up.

  Pennebaker rubbed his elbow as he looked around at the floor.  “It’s a goddamn pastry.  Who was the idiot who brought a pastry here?  The sign forbidding food is as plain as day!  God,” snorted Pennebaker, throwing his arms in the direction of the sign.

  “I was the idiot, you jerk!”  exclaimed Rand, insulted and a bit embarrassed.

  Indeed, she had chosen to ignore the sign, which was, indeed, as plain as day.  Pennebaker smirked and shook his head while he continued to survey the mess.

 His eyebrows cocked up as his finger pointed along a wet brownish trail. “There’s coffee on the floor too!”  Pennebaker looked up at Rand again.

 “What?  Were you having a Continental breakfast here or something?”  he asked with a note of snide humor.  The Orion got up from his spot and stood, facing the other lieutenant. 

“Hey, Pennebaker.  Cut it out, will you?  You’ve seemed to have recovered.  Do me a favor and contact sickbay.  Tell them I have a woman here with facial burns and a possible concussion, Okay?”

 “Yeah, man,” said Pennebaker, slapping the arm of the Orion amicably before heading out of the room.

“Sickbay,” Rand thought as she continued to fight through the fogginess in her head.  Images of pills, shots and bed straps came at her, and she didn’t much like it.  “Absolutely not!” Rand bellowed.

 The Orion man turned to Rand, his brows raised.  “Excuse me?” he asked.

 “I’m not going to sickbay.  I’m fine,” said Rand, crossing her arms.

  She wanted to look more steady than she really felt, anything to avoid going to sickbay.  Besides, as far as she was concerned, she wasn’t that bad off.

 As the Orion looked steadily at Rand, he crouched back down in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders.  “Ma’am,” he spoke slowly, trying to reason with her.  “You really need to be under the care of medical…” 

“Stop calling me ma’am, will ya?” Rand snapped, interrupting the Orion in mid sentence.  “Do I look like a little old lady to you?”

A sudden smile curled up on the Orion’s lips as he released Rand’s shoulders, and shifted himself on to his buttocks.  He cocked his head to the side, his violet eyes sweeping over Rand in a way that made her feel self-conscious. 

“Even in this sorry state I find you in, I don’t believe that anyone on this starship would ever mistake you for a little old lady,” the Orion said, his voice low and flirtatious.

 He lowered his head, biting his lip ever so slightly.  “What’s your name?” he asked softly.


 “Your name,” he asked with more emphasis.  “What is it, since you don’t approve of the use of ma’am.”

  “I’m Janice Rand, Yeoman to the Captain of the Enterprise,” she bragged, her head still spinning.

 The Orion humored Rand, clearly enjoying himself.  “Well, Janice Rand, Yeoman to the Captain of the Enterprise, I believe that you should stay right here and wait for the medics to take you to sickbay.”

 Rand grew angrier at this man.  “This guy’s a big green pain in the ass,” she thought to herself.  “Look, buddy,” she leveled at the Orion.  “I’m fine!  All I need to do is freshen up in my quarters and return to work!  The captain is waiting for me!”

 The Orion arched his brow.  “Waiting?” he asked.

  Rand squirmed under his suggestive gaze, his tone slightly mocking her.

  “Look,” Rand began.  “All I need to do is to go to my quarters, splash some water on my face, and I’m good to go!”

  The Orion sighed and shook his head, then leaned into Rand, placing a large hand on her upper arm.

  “Janice, listen to me. The whole time I’ve been here with you, your eyes have been glazed, your head’s been swaying on its neck, and you’ve been fighting the urge to throw up…”

 “Don’t touch me, I’m leaving!”  said Rand curtly, shoving the Orion’s hand away from her.

 The Orion’s voice was firm now, a little ice lacing in it as he took Rand by the arm and held her in her place.  “You’re not going anywhere but sickbay.  If I have to sit on you, I’ll do just that!  You’re clearly in no condition to go anywhere.”

Rand tried to pull away from the Orion, but his grip was iron.  Panic rose in her while she proceeded to punch him in the chest, like a petulant child.

 “Get off of me!”  shrieked Rand.

  The Orion held Rand easily by her arm, unmoved by her futile blows.  “Is that the best you can do?” he taunted as he leaned in, as if daring her to hit harder.

  Rand answered by digging her nails into his bracing hand, and while he didn’t seem to be in pain, he looked nevertheless annoyed.

 “Where the hell are the goddamn medics,” he snarled, looking toward the supply room door.

 This struggle went on for a while until the Orion took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and released Rand. 

“No,” he said simply.  “I’m not going to do this.  I’m not going to engage in a struggle with an ailing woman.  This is ridiculous.”

The young man got up, leaving a stunned Rand on the floor.  She looked up at the Orion, her eyes blinking, as if she couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on.  Was he letting her go?

The young Orion continued.  “I’m not going to be accused of abusing a female
 officer.  So, if you insist on going back on the job, I won’t get in the way.” 

The Orion stepped aside amid the mess and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.  He looked at Rand incredulously. 

“What are you waiting for?  You’re free to go.”  The Orion stood, a smirk etched across his lips.
The smirk on the Orion’s face made Rand angry, so she placed both hands on the ground in front of her and slowly positioned herself up, to prove to this guy that she didn’t need him or sickbay.  As Rand straightened herself up, she saw stars, but she wasn’t going to let this jerk know about it!  Rand looked at the young officer and smiled smugly, swaying perilously like a pendulum.  

 “Really?”  The Orion snorted, clearly disgusted with this sad attempt at independence.

 “Shut up,” Rand bit back as the Orion rolled his eyes.  Rand waited until she felt steady enough to walk, and walk she did.  Silence passed between the two of them, while she proceeded to exit the supply room, being careful to step over the surrounding debris on the floor. 

It was blue skies from here on end as Rand walked smartly, and with confidence, towards the door.  She reached the hallway when she noticed how the passers-by moved in slow motion, the hall teetering sideways.  Her legs felt tingly, and started to buckle underneath her.  Her head was light and dizzy, and her body swayed and wobbled until it fell forward.  The last thing she remembered was something strong encircling itself around her waist before she completely blacked out.

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