All Things Inherit – Eleven – DizzyDrea

Two days later, Chris and Len were waiting to beam aboard the Vulcan ship. The Khio’ri-Tor—the Star Traveler—was T’Pau’s personal ship. According to Commander Spock, his great-aunt would, from time to time, travel to places she’d heard mentioned or read about in her extensive library. Just to see it in person.

It boggled Len’s mind, but then again, she wasn’t overly fond of space travel, so doing it for what amounted to fun was a foreign concept to her.

“Okay, all our gear has been transported up to the ship,” Chris said as he entered the kitchen. “You ready to go?”

Len tugged at her uniform shirt, though it didn’t really need any adjustment. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said as he took her hands. “As I understand it, the Khio’ri-Tor is more like a luxury cruiser than a research vessel. I guess T’Pau doesn’t want to rough it when she’s traveling the stars.”

“Wouldn’t matter if we were warping out on a garbage scow, frankly,” she said. “Humans weren’t meant for space travel. If we were, we wouldn’t need self-contained tin cans to fly around in.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, frowning. “I thought you said you were okay with all this.”

“I’m as okay as I’m ever going to be with space travel, Chris,” she said, squeezing his hands. “I’m not letting you leave this house, much less the planet, without me, so I’ll just have to suck it up and get used to living in space. I’ll be fine. Eventually.”

The look he gave her was pure disbelief, and he was still radiating concern, but he simply nodded his agreement rather than continue to question her. She appreciated that about him, that he wasn’t one to second-guess a person once they’d made their choice clear.

His communicator chose that moment to beep. He pulled it out of the holster attached to his pants and flipped it open. “This is Christopher Pike.”

“Captain Pike,” Commander Spock’s voice came over the device, loud and clear. “The Khio’ri-Tor is prepared to beam you aboard if you are ready.”

“Thank you, Spock,” Chris said. He looked at Len, who nodded. “Two to beam up. Pike out.”

They stepped apart, and Len waited for the transporter effect to wash over them. The tingle of it wasn’t unpleasant, but Len knew far too much about transporters to ever be comfortable with the technology. Slicing the human body into millions of tiny particles that were then digitized and sent via subspace beam to a receiver, where the process was reversed? It was a nightmare, no matter how you sliced it. No pun intended.

They materialized on the transporter pad of the Khio’ri-Tor. Commander Spock was waiting for them beside a slightly older Vulcan wearing what Len knew to be a VSI uniform. Interesting.

“Spock, it’s good to see you,” Chris said as he descended off the pad.

“You as well, Captain,” Commander Spock said. He turned to Len and nodded his greeting. “Doctor. I am pleased you will be joining us on the mission. Enterprise is fortunate to have you.”

“Five years in a tin can in the vacuum of space,” Len said. “That sounds like a party.”

Spock appeared to bristle slightly. “The Enterprise is not a tin can, as you so eloquently stated. It is a state-of-the-art starship that has recently undergone a refit to add the latest technology and enhancements.”

“Relax, Spock,” Chris said, slapping the Vulcan on the shoulder. Len caught the spark of surprise Spock couldn’t hide over the gesture. “She’s just not overly fond of space travel. We’ll make a spacer out of her eventually.”

“That’s what you think,” Len muttered.

“As you say, Captain,” Spock said. “I have the latest reports on the refit of Enterprise for your review, as well as a list of crew changes. There are… more than usual.”

“That’s probably down to Chris being a Sentinel,” Len said as they followed Spock out of the transporter room. “There were a bunch of Sentinels and Guides who applied to join the mission, but there were probably equal numbers of people who wanted no part of serving with an online Sentinel.”

“That seems illogical,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow. “Sentinels are known among my people to be superior assets wherever they serve. Why would one not want to serve with the best in Starfleet?”

“Some people don’t like the idea of their privacy being violated every hour of every day,” Chris said.

“But you cannot monitor everyone on the ship in any given second,” Spock said. “You would be wasting valuable resources that could be put to better use.”

“Not to mention the physical and mental toll such a thing would have on him,” Len said. “But the myth persists precisely because there are still so few Sentinels in Starfleet, relatively speaking. Not that many people have experience serving with them, and the ones that do don’t usually willingly change commands because they realize it’s a privilege to serve with a Sentinel.”

“One would think that serving with an online Guide would be more unnerving for humans,” Spock said. “Considering there are no natural telepaths among humans beyond Guides. Is it not more of a personal violation to have one’s mind read than the sensory cues the Sentinel uses to navigate his or her environment?”

“I didn’t say it was logical, Mr. Spock,” Len said. “And yes, plenty of people don’t like serving with Guides because we can’t exactly turn off our empathy. The problem is that they don’t understand how it works. I have shields that actively protect me from the mental noise that most species project without even trying. I don’t ‘read’ people unless I want to, and trust me, I don’t want to most of the time. Humans are messy, and the emotional pea soup they live in isn’t appealing at all.”

Len shivered, drawing a chuckle out of Chris. “Trust me, I get it. When I first recognized I had an empathic sense, I realized that the last thing I’d ever want to do is read someone else’s mind. The human mind is a bag of cats. Trust me on that.”

“A bag of cats,” Spock said, frowning—insofar as a Vulcan ever frowned, that’s what it looked like to Len, anyway.

Chris smiled. “It’s a human expression. It means something is crazy and scary in the same way that holding a bag full of angry cats would be.”

“I see,” Spock said, though Len wasn’t sure he really did. “I have not heard it put quite that way, but I would have to agree that the human mental landscape can be… disturbing.”

“I’m not sure, but I think we were just insulted,” Len said.

“Trust me, if he’d insulted you, you’d know it,” Chris said.

“Indeed,” Spock said. “Vulcans tend to be unsubtle. We say what we mean, and we mean what we say.”

“Something to look forward to, then,” Len said as they arrived at a door with a code lock on it.

“I trust you will do nothing to earn an insult from one of my people while you are our guest,” Spock said, again with that damnable eyebrow.

“I’ll do my best,” Len said with a nod. “I wouldn’t want to reflect poorly on the House of Surak while we’re staying with them. Our relations with the Vulcans don’t depend on it, but I’d hate for Starfleet to have to smooth over the fact that I quite often just say what I think, in the rudest way possible.”

Spock’s mouth twitched, and Len could have sworn he was trying not to smile. “We appreciate your restraint, Doctor McCoy.”

He turned to the door before she could formulate a witty retort. Chris took her hand and squeezed it, smiling at her as she felt his amusement over their bond. She flashed a quick smile, sending him reassurance over the bond. She wasn’t going to cause a diplomatic incident while they were guests of the Vulcans. She hadn’t done it yet, and she wasn’t about to start.

The doors swished open in that familiar way that all doors did in Starfleet facilities. Spock stepped back, allowing them to enter first. “Your quarters for the journey. Mine are just across the corridor. It will be two days until our arrival on Vulcan. You may change the door code to your liking while you are aboard. I have programmed the replicator with several dishes I know you prefer, but you are also welcome to sample the Vulcan dishes on the menu as you wish.”

“Thanks, Spock,” Chris said. “I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable here.”

The room was larger than Len had expected, with a sitting area and a large bed in an alcove to one side. There was a table near the windows, next to the replicator. It was nice. Peaceful in a way that Starfleet never could quite achieve.

“I have the refit specs and crew files if you would like to review them now,” Spock said, holding up a standard-issue Starfleet PADD he’d carried from the transporter room. “I can leave it for your review, if you’d prefer.”

Chris looked at Len, who just shrugged. “I’m not tired. It’s still early afternoon in Montana, so I won’t be looking for food or rest for hours yet. Might as well start as we mean to go on, as my grandmother would say.”

“Right,” Chris said. He rubbed his hands together. “How about a light snack and some Vulcan tea while we go over everything?”

“There is one tea recipe that is my mother’s favorite,” Spock said. “The others might be too bitter for your human palates.”

“Sounds good to me,” Chris said. “Why don’t you order the tea and a snack you think we’ll like, and we’ll get started?”

“Am I to assume that you and the Doctor will be making crew decisions together?” Spock asked as he programmed the replicator.

“We should probably add that to the list of things we’ll be talking about,” Chris said. “Len’s promotion came through this morning. She’s now listed as Captain Eleanor McCoy.”

“Congratulations, Doctor,” Spock said, nodding at her as he helped Chris set up their refreshments.

She looked at him; one eyebrow raised in a fair imitation of a Vulcan. “Not Captain?”

“It is my understanding that you prefer to be referred to by your professional title,” Spock said. “If your preferences have changed, I will alter my method of address.”

“Not necessary, Spock,” Len said. “Doctor McCoy is fine. Or Len in private, if you’d prefer.” She smiled as she crossed the room and retrieved hers and Chris’ PADDs from their luggage before returning to the table. “You’re not wrong about my rank: I worked damn hard for the MD, so I’m going to use it almost a hundred percent of the time. Besides, now that there are two captains aboard the Enterprise, it might get a little confusing to call both of us by our rank.”

“Len’s not a line officer yet,” Chris said as he sat down. “She may take the training at some point, but for now, I think it’s reasonable to address her as Doctor. It’ll certainly cut down on the confusion.”

“At least we haven’t gotten married yet,” Len said, settling in beside Chris. “That’s when it can get really confusing. You call out for Captain Pike and both of us turn around.”

“Just wait for the day we get promoted to Admiral,” Chris said with a wink in her direction.

Len groaned. “I’ve tied my career to a rock star. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Might I suggest you announce your status to the crew?” Spock said, joining them at the table and pouring out the tea. “It is rare for there to be two captains serving aboard the same ship. Some clarification for those not familiar with the regulations would be advisable.”

“I’ll make a note,” Chris said. “And thanks, Spock.”

“As your first officer, it is incumbent upon me to see to the efficient running of the ship,” Spock said. “That includes anticipating any friction points or issues that might arise so that we may address them before they cause harm, intended or not.”

“You’ve been taking lessons from Una,” Chris said. Len felt the flash of nostalgia for his former first officer.

“Captain Chin-Riley has been a good role model for me during my Starfleet career,” Spock said. “I have always appreciated her willingness to instruct me on the finer points of leading among humans.”

“You’ll do fine,” Chris said. Len handed him the PADD, then thumbed on her own. “Now, send me the files on the refit and all the personnel files you have. We’ll go over what we can now, and I can get clarification from ‘Fleet on anything else.”

“As you wish, Captain,” Spock said.

Len smiled as the files appeared on her PADD. All of them. She could feel Chris’ giddiness at the normalcy of the moment, as well as his enthusiasm for getting back into space. It was contagious, though she’d certainly never anticipated willingly going into the stars.

Her mother had just laughed when they’d told her, as though she understood something Len didn’t. Perhaps she did. Her mother had always been very intuitive, and her Guide gifts had to come from somewhere, right?

Chris tapped her foot with his own, bringing her back to the moment. She smiled at him, and he smiled back as Spock, without missing a beat, folded her into the conversation on the upgrades to the engines, weapons, and transporters. She rolled her eyes, knowing she needed to understand these things, even just in the abstract, as the Captain’s Guide.

Not that she understood even half of it, but she figured she had time to get there. They were going on a five-year mission, after all. What else was there to do on a starship?

An image floated through her mind of her and Chris from the night before. She frowned at him, kicking him gently in the ankle. They didn’t have time for that, and might not for a while, so she didn’t need the reminder.

Spock just raised an eyebrow at them both, drawing a chuckle out of Chris. “Okay, let’s get this done so we can get some rest. I have a feeling things are going to get busier from here on out.”

“Indeed,” Spock said.

Len huffed but couldn’t disagree. Their lives were about to change, even more than they already had been. But that was the life of a Starfleet officer. If she hadn’t wanted it, somewhere deep down inside, she wouldn’t have taken the opportunity.

~0~

Two days later, the Khio’ri-Tor pulled gracefully into orbit over Vulcan. Chris hadn’t seen the planet since the battle with Nero, so he’d stationed himself on the forward observation deck. Len stood silently by, watching and waiting as he took in the beautiful red planet below.

“You know, I’ve never actually set foot on Vulcan, despite the fact that I spent the better part of a day defending her from Nero’s attack,” he said conversationally. “It kind of reminds me of Mars, with all the red dirt.”

“More hospitable than Mars, I think,” Len said. “At least there’s atmosphere here, though it’s thinner than we’re used to. I’ve prepared tri-ox injections for us if it gets tough. Some of your training will be physical, so we’ll just keep an eye on you and see how you do.”

“Have any Sentinels ever spent time on Vulcan?” Chris asked.

“Vulcan is among the few planets that don’t have a natural Sentinel gene,” she said. “That said, there have been Sentinels who’ve come here for various reasons. They’ve all reported no issues with the atmosphere, so I don’t expect you to have any issues. I just like to be prepared.”

He snorted. “And they call me a Boy Scout.”

“Apart from the fact that I’m a doctor, I’m also your Guide,” she said. “I wouldn’t be very useful to you if I didn’t anticipate situations and conditions that might impact your readiness or ability to function.”

“True,” he said. He flashed a smile at her. “Sorry. I guess I’m still not used to having someone so focused on taking care of me. Even Marie… she was a starship captain in her own right. Our relationship was more about taking opportunities when they presented themselves and spending time together.”

He’d shared his time with Marie Batel with Len one night when they’d decided to cuddle up under a blanket and watch the Milky Way pass overhead. It had been hard, and they’d both cried as though the loss were fresh instead of years old. The grief was more muted now, and had been since he’d woken up a Sentinel, but it was still there.

Len thought it was because his life had become defined by loss: losing the relationship he’d had with his father, losing Marie, facing the loss of the life he’d believed he’d live. It was still hard for him to wrap his brain around the fact that his life would go on, virtually unchanged, despite what the Klingon monks and his future self had told him.

“I don’t think I was even considering that I might die while I was facing off with Nero,” he said quietly. “I knew my fate, and dying at the hands of a crazy Romulan wasn’t a part of it. I just… did what I had to do to get through the day. The moment that big Romulan ship shattered was the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t explain it, and I don’t think I want to try.”

“There was a Sentinel inside you, even then,” she said. “Sentinels don’t mourn losses the way mundanes do. You’re not wired that way. You do the job and let the rest go, because your actions are righteous and you do what you do to protect your people. There’s no room for remorse or regret. It’s probably what made you such a good starship captain, though you did have a merciful streak that is atypical for a Sentinel.”

“I always felt that, if I could avoid a situation devolving into shooting, that was a good outcome,” he said. “I shouldn’t have to shoot first. The battle should come to me, because my enemies should think twice before taking me on.” He paused. “Huh. That seems like the mindset of a Sentinel, actually.”

“It is,” she confirmed. “Seems like maybe you were latent for longer than we suspected. Maybe even just barely latent.”

“Makes sense, actually,” he said with a shrug. “Starship captains live life on a knife’s edge. We’re always one bad day away from being blown to bits by some enemy we didn’t see coming. Perhaps my Sentinel traits were closer to the surface than a typical latent because instinctively I knew I needed that edge.”

“Given that, there’s probably a whole lot more latent Sentinels in Starfleet than we probably realize,” Len said. She shook her head. “That’s going to be interesting. If things heat up again with the Klingons, or we encounter the Gorn in higher numbers, how many starship captains are going to spontaneously come online? And what’s that going to do to operational readiness?”

“I’d say Starfleet would be lucky if that happened,” Chris said. He turned to her and smiled. “Because for every Sentinel, there’s a Guide right there beside him or her. As a team, that’s one I wouldn’t bet against.”

“Smart man,” she said, smiling back at him. “Makes me wonder if Jim will ever come online.”

“Jim’s a Sentinel?” he asked, then thought it through for a moment. “Yeah, actually, I can see that. He’s aggressive but also intuitive in a way that feels very familiar to me. I don’t know if he was ever tested, though.”

“Well, he had no reported Sentinels or Guides in his family tree, so that wouldn’t have been automatic,” she said. “But I routinely test for it as part of my initial exam because treating a Sentinel or Guide can be tricky, even if they’re latent. And Jim has allergies to several medications that most Sentinels can’t tolerate.”

“Should we tell him?” he asked. “He has a right to know this is a possibility.”

“Oh, I already told him,” she said, waving a hand. “I had to get his permission, after all. He’s curious, and promised to get some reading material so he’s not going into it blind. It may never happen for him, but he’s young, so it’s more likely that he’ll come online than it was for you. Statistically speaking.”

“And yet, here I am, online at fifty,” he said, shaking his head. “What are the odds?”

“Where’s Mr. Spock when we need him?” Len asked. “I’m sure he could tell us.”

“The odds of a fifty-year-old man with few documented Sentinels or Guides in his family history coming online are roughly a million to one,” Spock said from the doorway. The two of them turned to face him. “My apologies for the interruption, but we are expected on the planet. T’Pau is meeting you personally.”

Chris tugged his uniform shirt down, then shot his cuffs. “Well then, we shall be on our best behavior.”

“I would expect nothing less, Captain,” Spock said.

Len rolled her eyes but followed Chris and Spock to the transporter room. Chris practically hopped up onto the transporter pad. Len gave it a gimlet eye before she joined him.

“Relax,” Chris said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “You’re gonna have to get used to this sooner or later.”

“Later,” Len said. “Much later. Like maybe never.”

Chris let go with a laugh and nodded at the transporter tech as Spock joined them on the pad. “Energize.”

The Vulcan ship faded from view, to be replaced by pale walls and familiar equipment. Off to one side of the control station stood an older woman in full Vulcan dress, hands clasped in front of her and looking serene and unruffled. Chris wished he could replicate that. She merely raised one eyebrow in a familiar gesture.

Chris nodded as he descended the steps and walked straight to her. He lifted his hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting.

“Live long and prosper, Christopher Pike,” T’Pau said as she favored him with the ta’al.

“Peace and long life, TPau of Vulcan,” Chris responded.

“I trust your journey was uneventful,” T’Pau said.

“We enjoyed the ride,” Chris said. “It’s a fantastic ship, and her crew is well-trained.”

“That is gratifying to hear,” T’Pau said. Her gaze flicked to Len, who stood patiently beside him.

“T’Pau, may I present my Guide, Doctor Eleanor McCoy,” Chris said.

Len raised her hand in the ta’al. “Live long and prosper, ma’am.”

T’Pau’s lips flickered in what could be considered a Vulcan smile. She returned the gesture without skipping a beat. “I am given to understand that you are a scientist who researches rare conditions. I have arranged a tour of our medical research facilities for you while you are here, if that meets with your approval.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Len said. “That would be lovely.”

T’Pau turned her attention to Spock, who straightened up and greeted his great-aunt. “I spoke to T’Pring this morning. She awaits you at your parents’ home. Your father is, of course, on Earth attending a Federation Council meeting on my behalf.”

“Thank you,” Spock said with a curt nod. “I spoke to my father briefly before we left. I will see to the Captain, and then I will meet with T’Pring.”

“No need,” T’Pau said dismissively. “I will escort the Captain and his Guide to their quarters. You are dismissed for the remainder of the day.” She paused, then turned to Chris. “Unless you have some need of him?”

“No, I don’t,” Chris said. He turned to Spock. “Go see T’Pring. Give her my best.”

“As you wish, Captain,” Spock said, though Chris could see that he was less than thrilled by the prospect of seeing his future wife.

Once Spock had gone, Chris turned back to T’Pau. “You really didn’t need to meet us personally. I’m sure you have more important things to do than escort me around.”

“Perhaps,” T’Pau said as she turned to leave the room. “But I find myself curious about you.”

Chris shared a look with Len. “What’s so special about me that has piqued your curiosity?”

He could feel Len mentally rolling her eyes at him.

“Sentinels are rare on Vulcan, as you know,” T’Pau said. “I have only met one personally in my entire life. He was a formidable man, and his Guide was fascinating.”

“Who was this formidable man?” Chris asked, giving in to his own curiosity.

T’Pau raised an eyebrow at him, as if he were being purposely dense. “Jonathan Archer.”

Chris felt the ripple of shock roll through both him and Len. “Archer is a Sentinel?” He turned to Len. “Did you know that?”

“No,” Len said. “It’s not in any of the biographical data I have on him. Who was his Guide, if I may ask?”

“Charles Tucker,” T’Pau said as she moved out ahead of them, unaware of the utterly confounded people she’d left in her wake. She paused beside a vehicle. “This aircar will take you to my family compound, where you will stay for the duration of your visit. My staff has prepared quarters for you. We have taken your dietary requirements into account, though my nephew has informed me that you have sampled many Vulcan dishes on your journey here. Perhaps you will be brave enough to sit at my table one evening and try more.”

“We’d be pleased to join you,” Chris said.

“Good,” T’Pau said with a curt nod that was quite familiar. “I will leave you to rest from your journey. Should you need anything, please speak to my… I believe you would call him my majordomo, Tasek. He will see to your comforts while you are here.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Len said. “We appreciate your hospitality.”

T’Pau just nodded, as if that were her due, then glided away. Chris climbed into the car alongside Len. Once the door was closed, the car sped off with barely a lurch.

“I wonder why Archer hasn’t disclosed that he’s a Sentinel?” Chris asked. “He has to know there’d be even more interest from online Sentinels and Guides in serving if he did.”

“He served during a time when Earth First was at its peak,” Len said. She took his hand and laced their fingers together. “If I remember my Starfleet history, his crew was involved in thwarting a plot to block the creation of the Federation. Something like that can leave its scars. Perhaps he’s just content to serve quietly.”

“Have you ever met the man?” Chris asked. Len shook her head. “Quiet isn’t a word I’d use when describing Jonathan Archer. Intense. Focused. Stupidly brave, sure. But not quiet.”

“He came back from the Delphic Expanse changed,” Len said. “I read the medical journals on what happened to them. Doctor Phlox refused to specifically detail what happened, but the Enterprise’s command crew and a portion of the crew came back with some interesting physiological changes, including an extended life. Maybe whatever happened messed with his Sentinel abilities.”

“Maybe,” Chris said. “It could have affected his connection to his Guide, too. That’s the sort of thing I’d refuse to talk about, no matter who asked.”

“It’s certainly interesting,” Len said. “Maybe if we ask politely, T’Pau will tell us about Jonathan Archer the Sentinel when we dine with her.”

“Something to look forward to, then,” Chris said.

“Right now, I’m just looking forward to a bed and eight hours of uninterrupted rest,” Len said. “And Coffee. Not necessarily in that order.”

“How about some food, a little coffee, and then some rest?” Chris asked.

He’d probably never get used to the amount of coffee Len drank on a regular basis, but most Starfleet officers were no different, so he just held his tongue on that matter.

“I like the way you think, Captain Pike,” Len said.

Chris smiled. “Of course you do, Captain McCoy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the disgruntled look on her face when he used her new rank. She’d get used to it, but it would probably take time, something they had plenty of now that they were off Earth and out of danger.

Despite everything, he was looking forward to their time on Vulcan. It wasn’t a vacation, but it was a chance to rest, recuperate, and get ready for what came next. He could get on board with that.

~0~

Cast (from top left):
Anson Mount, David Strathairn, Adrian Holmes, Jess Bush, Zachary Quinto, Sam Neill, Sela Ward, Jean Reno, Damian Lewis, Stana Katic