A Star Trek-the Original Series (TOS) fan-fic/Alternate Universe (set mainly after "Wrath of Khan").
A/N: This story is Scotty-centric, and I do not own any rights to these "Star Trek" characters and tales. I am using a timeline of my own design that runs with movies II-V, more or less (notice that I ignore ST-"The Motion Picture"). I started writing this fan-fic more than 30 years ago and only recently decided to dust it off a bit to see where it takes me.
Summary: Scotty has family members elsewhere in Starfleet and the Klingons would love to capture one or any of them.
Rating: T for now; may change in later chapters.
Pairings: MS/NU, LM/CC, others as needed.
Not enough information
Since their cozy "sitting room" had recently been transformed into an exercise space the three of them made their way back to the dinette table, each deep in private reflections as they tried to put together random pieces of the puzzle that was their predicament. Connor was more confused than ever when he realized that at least one person he knew from his days on the Enterprise, someone he thought had been a friend, was now part of the group of unknowns that held the trio captive—"spies" was what his trusted mentor in Communications had called them. He still had no idea where they were, although Isabella Gondieve had told him that it was a planet within Federation space. Until proven otherwise, he would take her at her word.
"I was just about to suggest that we take a walk but on second thought, I'm going to make some peppermint tea if I'm going to put on my thinking cap effectively," Uhura stated as both Scotty and Connor dropped into their seats. "Care to join me, gentlemen?"
"Aye, I certainly will darlin'," Scotty said at once, smiling. He clapped Connor on the shoulder. "Laddie? Tea for you as well?"
Connor started a bit and shook his head. "Hmm? Oh, sorry. No thanks." When he grew pensive again, the senior officers exchanged a thoughtful look, concerned when the teen braced his forehead in both hands, his fingers combing through his red hair and he stared down at the table with a heavy, brooding sigh. His bare shoulders sagged and his body language clearly communicated that he was equal parts disheartened and frustrated.
Scotty caught a nod from Uhura as she turned back to the replicator, their herbal tea would soon be ready as she let it steep for a few minutes. He waited until the woman joined them at the table with two mugs of fragrant liquid resting in front of them; they had agreed to take the discussion out to the open room of their suite, away from the steam-filled bathroom. If their captors were listening in, so be it (that, and there was only so much one could mutely write on a mirror).
"Thank you, love," he said, leaning to kiss her cheek. She stretched over to intertwine her slender fingers in his, sliding her chair closer. The engineer took a tentative sip, nodded appreciatively at the refreshing minty taste and then put his mug back down. With two thick knuckles, he rapped loudly the tabletop to get Connor's attention.
"Heads up, cadet!" Scotty barked sharply, crossing his thick arms upon the table and leaning forward in a strong posture; Uhura gave his elbow an affectionate squeeze, reaching to cradle her tea in both hands. "Come on Connor, we need to get to work so snap to."
Reflexively, Connor straightened and he responded as he would at the Academy: "Sir? What work is that?" His eyebrows were knitted together in a deep frown.
Scotty flashed a cheeky grin at his cousin's wholly instinctive reaction to the sound of authority but his tone was commanding all the same. He put both hands palm down on the flat surface. "Now, tha's more like it, mister. Brainstorm time; talk it out, lad. What do we know?"
Connor stared hard at his cousin and then his lips quirked up in a tiny smile as he glanced from one decorated officer to the other; they were not going to let him sit and mope about, even if that was the easier route for the moment. He cleared his throat. "Not that much, Monty. You ever had any dealings with the SFCIA before?" He said the unfamiliar letters slowly.
Scotty shook his head disdainfully but he wanted to encourage the young man to continue talking. "These funny buggers what snatched us away from our transport? No, not really. We do hear about their operations from time to time within the 'fleet but if they are on ships and such over the years, it's usually undercover. And the reports are thoroughly sanitized and redacted, after the fact. Bloody great manky nuisance they are if yah ask me." That one he hoped they were overhearing, as it was a commonly held opinion out on the starships and starbases.
"Aye, and Izzy's working for or with them, whoever she really is."
Uhura nodded in agreement. "Probably. I would say there had to have been a much larger team involved for all that we know. She mentioned 'her supervisor' earlier so we can be fairly sure it was not she acting alone."
Connor's eyes widened. "She did, didn't she? The lieutenant also said something like 'the sedatives you were given' when she took our blood samples." His fingertips went to a spot on his right forearm where the small phlebotomy device had been placed. It was not marked but now it was clearly a psychological itch that needed to be scratched.
"Likely they needed to transport us a fair piece away from where we started out," Scotty answered, waving a hand to emphasize his point. He winked at Nyota, glad they'd had the same idea to keep Connor's mind productively occupied. "What do you recall of their medical department when you were taken down, er, over there?"
"Big. It seemed pretty big anyway; nothing at all like the wee clinic we saw on the Fremgen, but not as sophisticated as the one on the Enterprise," Connor replied at once. He closed his eyes to visualize as much as he could; most of what he could remember was sounds anyway.
"Plenty o' staff hustling about though, nurses and med-techs. I didnae see any other patients, just meself I guess and my aching head, but Lieutenant Gondieve was the one givin' orders when I was there." His eyelids snapped open and he gaped at Scotty, breathing out in surprise. "Meanin' that she runs the medibay when her Dr. Lofton is away."
"Aye," Scotty said, sucking in air against his front teeth as he let the wheels in his head keep turning. "What about the blackshirts do you recollect, Nyota?"
Uhura set aside her tea and leaned closer to the table, her long, slender fingers stroking along a crack in the surface. "To a man, they wore no insignia, but they did have places on their uniform tunics for the usual unit and departmental badges, didn't they? It was almost like they had to strip off rank and identification patches."
The elder Scot nodded. "Aye, I noticed that too. And what about that one-eyed devil who was with them, darlin'? You spoke to him more than I did and he had the look of honcho about him."
The Communications officer shook her head. "Nothing substantive but I certainly hope we get to talk to him again."
"Aye, me too."
Just then, the door chime sounded and Scotty got to his feet to answer it. He patted Uhura's shoulder and gave a little squeeze. "My turn, lassie," he said with a chuckle, wondering if their keepers had heard enough. "It's getting that busy around here today for some reason."
When he got to the door of their suite to acknowledge the chime, it whisked open and he was greeted by a rather short and rotund, smiling man who was not at all what he expected.
"Commander Montgomery Scott, I presume!" The balding, middle-aged Australian held out his right hand and gave a strong, energetic handshake. "Heard a lot about you, sir. Robert Boylan, at your service. Oh, and here you are love, my dear wife Bianca as well." The last was when he stepped in and aside, revealing a copper-skinned Maori woman who was just as rotund but shorter than he.
"How do, Commander? We've brought your personal effects, all safe and sound… where do you want 'em?" Her voice sounded almost musical, deep from the Terran southern hemisphere. Bianca Boylan was a native of New Zealand's Head of the Bay, just south of Christchurch on the larger of the two islands.
Scotty's mouth dropped open at the enthusiastic friendliness of the couple but he recovered quickly. "Er, aye, just over here I guess. Come in, come in then."
As the burly engineer stepped back to the dinette, Uhura and Connor—he still shirtless, had risen from the table, staring at the little parade that was comprised of Scotty, followed by the man Boylan and his wife, and then three slender, hooded figures clad all in black and pushing three separate stacks of wheeled travel cartons. Nyota immediately recognized her favorite tan and green patterned shoulder bag resting on the top of one of the stacks. She felt fairly certain that their things had been thoroughly inspected by persons unknown.
Boylan came over to her directly, his right hand stretched out to grasp hers. "This must be the lovely Commander Uhura. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you at last, ma'am." He grinned up at her, with a hearty chuckle (and she noticed that his eyes were exactly level with her chest). "Bob Boylan and meet Bianca. Oh-ho! And this strapping, fit lad has got to be Cadet Connor Scott. Cheers, mate."
As Connor shook hands, he cast a slightly frowning glance at Scotty and Nyota who now stood together, and he saw that the elder Scott had his arm protectively around her shoulders. Before he could say anything further, Connor shrugged into the clean, long-sleeved t-shirt that he'd held in his lap.
"Nice ink on you there, mate. Very well drawn, too," said Boylan, indicating Connor's tattoo with a jerk of his chin. "You don't see too many claddaghs way out here on the fringes, although my dear Bianca and I wear them as our wedding bands. I have to say that I'm a man for carryin' on traditions from back home." He held up his left hand, wiggling the ring finger; sure enough, a simple gold Celtic ring sparkled there.
The tiny woman—Bianca Mere Raahiri Boylan by name, clapped her hands together, shaking her head in fond exasperation. "Enough of that, Bob, dearie. Right, the commander wanted us to bring your luggage by your quarters to get you settled properly. We run the PX as well as the bar and grill here on base…"
Boylan turned slightly to make sure the cartons were delivered and that the silent escorts had made their way out. He reached into a deep pocket of his jacket, pulled out three green wristband devices and handed them over to Scotty. "These are for you since the medics sent us word this afternoon that you are cleared for the green zone—don't worry, they're waterproof and you can wear them full-time. They'll get you where you want to be, with a chrono so you won't be late."
"Late for what exactly, Mr. Boylan?" Connor asked skeptically as he slipped the chronometer on his left wrist, as he was accustomed; he'd been without one for so long that it felt strange to wear it. He observed that the Boylans's wristband devices were both green and purple, in alternating rings. Scotty and Uhura shrugged and slipped theirs on as well, though Scotty was sure it was either a listening or a tracking device, or a little bit of both.
Boylan gave a hearty laugh. "My friends all call me Bob," he replied, reaching over to lightly poke the tall redhead on the side. "So you won't be late for dinner, mate!"
Bianca rolled her eyes at her husband and stepped closer to Uhura, resting a warm hand on her elbow. "You'll have to forgive this loud old billy goat of a husband of mine, Commander. He overdoes it sometimes with the new arrivals." Mrs. Boylan turned to look up at Connor. "You're a lucky lad, dear. Most of the younger fighters don't have their families with them when they get out here. Before I forget though, dinner is the usual meat and two veg—plus dessert, but I can do lamb chops for you if you like."
Connor looked briefly over at his cousin who nodded assent. "That sounds fine, ma'am, thank you. Um, who am I fighting?"
Boylan wagged his finger; smiling broadly and showing brighter white teeth than should be humanly possible. "Nope, you're not gonna get us in hot water with the commander, Mr. Scott! I can do well enough with that on my own, thanks. Dinner's at 1930 over at Auntie's…"
"That's me by the way," Bianca added kindly, clarifying the name of the bar.
"And I'm sure Commander Rakit will have at least some sort of formal briefing for you lot when the rest of the team gets back in," continued Boylan. He shook hands once more with Scotty and Uhura, saving Connor for last as he turned to let his wife step ahead of him. "See you then, yeah?"
The trio stood staring at the door after the Boylans had left and after a few heartbeats, Scotty gave a wry laugh.
"What in THE hell have we gotten ourselves into?" he raised both hands in exasperation and asked the room at large. "I wasnae expecting ANZACS to welcome us aboard!"
"Your guess is as good as mine," said Uhura. Nyota made her way over to one of the stacks of travel cartons and was rummaging through the top-most container. She gave a soft cry of delight when she located a small zippered beige bag and took it with her when she returned to their dinette table. Connor had no idea what all of the little bottles and implements were that she was so happily sorting through.
"Aye, and who am I gonna be fighting and why, that's what I'd like to know, Monty," Connor added from where he stood by the replicator. A few seconds later, a large bottle of ice water appeared. He took it in hand and then leaned back against the kitchen counter, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip.
Scotty nodded and gave a short chuckle. "The more we learn, the more questions we have, aye? Well, get your shoes on, laddie, and we'll head out for a walk and bit of recon."
Connor looked surprised but he immediately assented. "Really? Sure, why not?"
The engineer stepped lightly over to the table and kissed Uhura on the lips, his eyes twinkling just for her. "Mm, love you. Take your time, my dear. We've got about two hours before dinner, looks like." She gave him a bright smile and turned her attention back to her nail polish and other accouterments.
Connor leaned down to kiss her cheek and he at least recognized the smell of nail polish remover as she got to work with a tiny nail file. "Are you sure it's okay, ma'am?"
"I'm sure, honey. I've been absolutely dying to give myself a manicure and pedicure; I'm sure you find the whole thing silly," she said, raising one eyebrow.
The senior officers laughed at a shared memory and it was Scotty who went on to explain as he companionably squeezed his young cousin about the shoulders, steering him to the door of their suite.
"Connor, my lad, the mysterious secrets of a beautiful woman should sometimes remain precisely that… secrets!"