Black Fire by Sonni Cooper

comfortable.
    A small movement of Spock's hand brought him to attention. Spock was beginning to regain consciousness. His eyelids fluttered, then he opened his eyes. He looked up at a broadly smiling Scott. Then he closed his eyes and slept.
    In the following days, broth was forced into Spock, who was too weak to resist. IIsa supervised his care personally, making sure he was regularly fed and kept warm. When it was apparent he would live, Spock yielded to the inevitable and stopped fighting his recovery. But he was completely silent and withdrawn.
    Scott was alarmed. He tried to find a way to interest Spock in life again. He stayed up all night carving a crude chess set from bone, but Spock failed to respond. He had to find a way to bring the detached and remote Vulcan back to full alertness. Removing a small piece of hide from his belt, Scott took out the crystalline dart from Paxas, placing it into Spock's unresisting hand. The odd sensation emanating from the crystal resonated through the Vulcan's arm. As the strange sensation grew, so did his interest.
    "Whre did you get this?" were the first words he spoke since his suicide attempt. He now had a mental challenge, and the scientist in him was functioning again.
    "Ye sure had me worried, Mister Spock. I'm glad ta see ye more like yeself. Are ye in pain?" Spook was lying completely flat, just as he had been placed.
    "No, Scott. There is no more pain. I have no sensation from the area of the wound down. Help me to sit. This crystal
is fascinating
."

Chapter III
The Enterprise
    1
    "Captain Kirk to Transporter Room. One to beam up."
    James T. Kirk said the familiar words with deep satisfaction. Finally, after the prolonged forced rest, he was returning to his true home. It was a day earlier than his orders indicated—a day to reacquaint himself with the repaired and rebuilt
Enterprise
, a day to get the feel of the ship and to relish being back before his duties absorbed his attention.
    "
I'm
sorry, sir. My orders are to beam up all personnel only when their orders indicate. You're a day early," came the reply from the ship.
    "This is the captain. The commanding officer. One to beam up." repeated.
    "Transporter Room, this is an order! I will take full responsibility. Beam me up immediately!" His pleasant feeling gave way to exasperation.
    "Yes, sir, if you insist." The transporter was engaged.
    Kirk was fuming when he stepped out of the transporter. "Lieutenant, when I give an order, you obey it. Do you understand me?"
    "Yes, sir. But I …"
    "No buts, Lieutenant. You are relieved. Report to your superior—and brush upon protocol… ."
    Now, why was I so hard on him?
Kirk asked himself as he strode from the room.
He was only following previous orders. Why did I jump so hard on him? Something's wrong. I can feel it. But that's irrational
, he assured himself,
first-day-back jitters
.
    In his quarters he checked the safe, tucking his new orders into their proper spot. He hadn't received his new uniforms yet. The accident, the long recovery process, and the forced rest had given him time to exercise and get back into top shape and he had lost weight. His old uniforms hung on him so he had ordered new ones, which would arrive tomorrow No crew was on board yet so he decided his regulation uniform wasn't necessary. He put on a T-shirt and pants, eased into a well-worn pair of boots which felt like old friends, and hustled out of his quarters.
    He stepped into the turbolift. "Bridge." The familiar word sounded good.
    The bridge was empty. The temporary skeleton crew was controlling the ship from the auxiliary bridge. He was glad to be alone in the nerve center of the ship—he knew it would be impossible after today. But this was
his
day, a day to enjoy
his
ship. He toured the upper level of the bridge, running his hand over the newly replaced instruments. Peering into the sensor, he flipped a lever and watched the instrument register the life forms on the station