Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. … to boldly go where no man has gone before.

Kirk nearly choked at the opening lines of the documentary. Perhaps he'd become a bit jaded after five years as captain of the Enterprise, but this seemed almost like a Starfleet propaganda film.

He was no longer the young, optimistic captain he'd been at the beginning of his five year mission. It had changed him. True, this was the only life for him, but it shouldn't be portrayed as a series of larks. It was dangerous. It was heartbreaking.


Jim stared at himself and his fellow officers in the mirror. They had been give the dubious honor of modeling options for new Starfleet uniforms. Currently, they were sporting a type of jumpsuit with angular shoulders and color blocking. They were very tight and uncomfortable.

He did like one design out of the bunch. It consisted of a red jacket with insignia for rank and department. He'd always fancied being a Redcoat. He'd prefer the uniform for dress only. Nothing so far had come close to the comfort and ease of the basic tunic and pants.

(A/N: I just realized that though I was imagining the TNG outfits, the description could also apply to the horrendous outfits of ST: TMP.)


"Do you want to play hangman?"

"That does not sound like a pleasant pastime, Ensign."

"It's a word game, Commander. It's not like there's anything else to do."

"We could attempt to find a means of escape."

"I'm sure you have already considered and dismissed all the logical options. Please play with me."

"Very well. What are the parameters?"

A few hours later, the Enterprise rescue party barged into the room, only to find Commander Spock and Ensign Lewis engrossed.

Later, McCoy questioned Spock about the game.

"It is an exercise of logic, Doctor," Spock replied.


Spock reluctantly tasted the Kirian dish placed before him. The Kirian chefs wanted to ensure each species about to arrive would enjoy the food prepared and were therefore using the Enterprise crew as tasters.

Spock touched the spoon to his lips. The reaction was immediate and messy. Everyone in the room turned to stare. Spock had never spit something out before.

"I do not believe this will go over well," Spock said, trying to restore his composure. He reached for a nearby glass of water and gulped it down in attempt to remove the unpleasant tang left in his mouth.


"Who designed your ship, an ape?" the Tellarite said loudly.

"There were many people involved," Riley said.

"A team of apes, then." He strode through Engineering, making a number of disparaging remarks.

Riley struggled to hold his temper in check. It wouldn't do to cause a scene on a diplomatic mission. He wound up humming to himself as a distraction.

"What is that noise?" the Tellarite demanded.

"That wasn't noise, that was music," Riley replied sourly.

"That was worse than Klingon opera!"

"The only thing worse than Klingon opera Tellarite speech!"

The Tellarite roared with laughter. "Good man!"


Spock entered the dining area. He was greeted by a plate of nutrition cubes flying past his nose. Before he could take another step inside, a glob of mashed potatoes whizzed by in the opposite direction. Next, something resembling old Earth Jell-o exploded on the wall behind him. A bowl of ice cream collided with a chair, sending droplets round about. Most unexpectedly, a bunch of grapes was hurled across his path.

"Who threw these?' his voice rang out. No one admitted to it. "In future, I would not recommend grapes as projectiles. They simply do not splatter well."


Lieutenants Sulu, Riley, and Kyle and Ensign Chekov were sitting glumly on a fallen tree. They had separated from the rest of the shore leave party and wandered into the forest. Despite each man assuring the others of his superior sense of direction, they'd gotten lost. Now they each stubbornly refused to call for directions. They had been sitting for quite a while and the sun was creeping ever closer to the horizon. Suddenly, a communicator chirped. "You boys are about to miss check-in," a voice warned. None of them replied. "You're lost, aren't you? Don't worry, Uhura to the rescue."


The security team were frozen in surprise. Meeting aliens was ordinary; meeting a knight, complete with shining armor, was extraordinary. It was especially surprising given that there wasn't a castle in sight. They watched as the knight rode off into the sunset.

Ensign Melanie Mayweather was the first to speak. "The one time I actually meet a knight in shining armor and I'm working." She shook her head.

Lieutenant Johnson chuckled. Ensign Mayweather didn't need a knight to come to her rescue. One of the few female security personnel, she was more than capable of taking care of herself.


"Pawn to King's two." Christine made a face. She really didn't understand tri-level chess. She was only playing because she knew Spock enjoyed it and she hoped one day to get him to play a game with her. First, however, she'd have to finish one.

"Bishop to Queen's three. Checkmate." Lieutenant Leslie smiled. "I win again."

Christine sighed. "I don't think I'll ever understand this game. How about we play checkers?"

"Alright. I doubt Mr. Spock has played that-maybe you could teach him."

Christine threw a pawn at his shoulder.


"Consolation? That's a terrible name for a ship," Chekov remarked.

"It's a medical transport," Riley replied. "It's a good name for a ship that does nothing but transport medical supplies across the galaxy."

"I wonder if its captain likes it. 'Hello, I'm the captain of the Consolation.' It just doesn't have the same ring as captain of the Enterprise."

"I'm sure she likes it just fine, considering she's a doctor first and a captain second."

"Oh," Chekov replied.

"We really need to work on your diplomacy skills," Riley said with a shake of his head.


"Why don't the Vulcans ever compete in the Federation Olympics?"

"I believe you know the answer, Doctor. It is illogical to expend energy without a need. Competing with other species only to attain a prize is hardly a necessity."

"I suppose you think the whole thing should be done away with."

"On the contrary, many enjoy such competitions. It may not be logical, but it is established. Vulcans are satisfied with merely refusing to participate. They do not force others to do likewise."

"I think you're just afraid of the Vicosians."

"Vulcans are physically superior to Vicosians."

"Yeah, sure."