Open Writing

An hour or so into his watch, Kirk was aware of someone approaching his post. He peered into the gloom, and tensed as he made out two figures; then, a soft burr caused him to relax and lower his phaser.

“It’s just me, captain,” said Scotty, “and Uhura. D’ye mind if we have a word?”

Kirk smiled, pleased at the distraction. The dark night was forbidding, and he welcomed the company. “Of course not,” he said. “Come and sit down.”

The portly Scotsman and the lithe African made themselves comfortable, and for a few moments there was an awkward silence. Then Scotty said, “Well, I, er, that is, we were…well, ah, y’see, captain…”

Kirk watched, perplexed, as the Scotsman struggled for words. Beside him, Uhura said nothing; this was obviously something Scotty wanted to say, and she gave him no help whatsoever. Then Kirk said, “What is it, Scotty? What’s on your mind?”

Scotty, looking very uncomfortable, tried again. “Well, y’see captain, it’s like this. We, that is, Uhura and me, we would, ah…” He trailed off again for a moment, then burst out, “Och, captain, we want ye tae marry us!”

Kirk sat stunned, unable to believe he had heard correctly. He stared at the Scotsman, and at Uhura, who was smiling at him, and back to Scotty again. Then Kirk found his voice. “Marry you?” he said, incredulously. “What, you mean….marry you?”

Scotty, now that he had finally got it out, was also smiling. “Aye, captain,” he said, turning to Uhura and taking her hand. “That’s it exactly.”

Kirk sat back, lost for words, and Uhura said, “You’re the master of the Enterprise, captain. You have the authority.”

Kirk puffed out his cheeks and nodded absently. “Well, yes,” he said, “I realize that, but…”

“Please, captain,” said Uhura.

“It’d mean a lot tae us, Jamie,” said Scotty.

Kirk looked at them for a moment longer, then smiled. “Of course I will,” he said. Then he shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything with me, a bible or anything for the words. You’ll just have to rely on my memory, although I have to tell you, the last time I did this was when it came up as a surprise question in one paper of the captain’s exam at the Academy.” He glanced around the camp. “Now, where are we going to find a best man?”

The silence lasted only a moment, then a voice said, “Well, if you’re looking for volunteers, I’d be happy to stand up for you, Scotty. I can’t get any sleep with all this racket going on, anyway.”

They stood up as McCoy approached, and Scotty held out his hand. “Thank ye, doctor. I’m verra grateful.”

McCoy grinned and shook the Scotsman’s meaty paw. “Just as long as I get to kiss the bride,” he said.

Kirk smiled. “You’ll be the first in line, Bones. Right after me.”

They all laughed as Spock and Sulu joined them, and Kirk said, “Well, I suppose there’s no time like the present. Spock, are you up to playing the wedding guest?”

“Of course, captain,” said Spock. “But if memory serves, I believe that in most earth marriage ceremonies, someone is expected to give the bride away.”

Uhura smiled flirtatiously at the Vulcan. “Why, Mr. Spock,” she said. “Are you offering?”

Spock gave a short bow. “It would be my pleasure,” he said. “And may I also point out that almost any of us here could have performed this service? We are, after all, with the exception of Doctor McCoy, all Star Fleet captains.”

This provoked another burst of laughter, and Kirk said, “Well, we can soon fix that.” He turned to Scotty and Uhura. “If the happy couple will excuse me for a moment, I need to attend to something that should have been done a long time ago.” They nodded, and he said, in his best command tones, “Surgeon Commander Leonard H. McCoy, front and center!”

McCoy, startled by the sudden authority in Kirk’s voice, snapped to attention, and Kirk continued in the same official-sounding manner.

“In recognition of years of loyal comradeship and feats of valor too numerous to mention, and by the authority given to me as a Rear-Admiral in the Star Fleet Reserve, I, James Tiberius Kirk, do hereby confirm the field promotion of this officer to the rank of Captain, effective immediately.” He looked around at the others, ignoring the stunned look on McCoy’s face. “Do all here bear witness and agree?”

A chorus of ‘ayes’ rang out, and Kirk said, “Congratulations, Captain McCoy.”

The doctor gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. Finally he managed to croak hoarsely, “Jim, you can’t do this to me!”

Kirk smiled, looking around him at the others, who also wore grins of varying magnitude. “Can, too,” he said. “I’m an Admiral. I can do anything I want.”

McCoy continued to look stunned for a moment, then smiled ruefully. “Godammit, Jim. You know what I think of the top brass. Now you’ve gone and made me one of them.”

Kirk smiled at his friend. “Sorry, Bones,” he said, “but Captains Scott and Uhura will have nothing less than an equal standing up as their best man. My hands are tied.”

McCoy nodded resignedly. “All right, I guess it’s Captain Bones from now on.”

They all laughed, and crowded around the doctor, pounding his back and shaking his hand. Then Kirk said, “All right, I believe we have a wedding to conduct.” He sobered, and called out, “Who gives this woman?”

“I do,” intoned the Vulcan, Uhura on his arm.

Kirk nodded. “Very well. Montgomery Angus Scott, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, to have and to hold, till death you do part?”

Scotty looked at Uhura, a little nervously, and said, “Aye, I do.”

Then Kirk looked at the African. “Nkolo Simese Uhura, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, to have and to hold, till death you do part?”

Uhura smiled at Scotty. “I do,” she said.

Kirk looked at them hopefully. “I don’t suppose there’s a ring?”

Spock stepped forward, reaching into the pocket of his tunic and turning to Scotty. “This belonged to my mother, Mr. Scott. My father gave it to me before I left Vulcan. I would like you and Uhura to have it.” He held out his hand and placed a plain gold ring in the Scotsman’s palm.

Scotty stared at the ring. “Mr. Spock,” he said in an awed tone, “ye cannae! Not your mother’s! We cannae accept it!”

Uhura reached forward and placed her hand over his. “Yes we can, Scotty. Bless you, Mr. Spock.”

Kirk said, “Mr. Scott, please place the ring on Uhura’s finger.” Scotty did so, and Kirk continued. “By the power vested in me as ship’s master, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Scotty stood staring at Uhura, and McCoy leaned towards him and said, from the corner of his mouth in a mock stage whisper, “Kiss her, you big lug.”

Scotty did so, and then they all embraced, even Spock. Their laughter was a happy sound, perhaps the first such sound that hellish planet had heard in an age, if at all. Soon after, they settled down to sleep, Kirk staying on watch to complete his interrupted stint.

Mr. and Mrs. Scott were excused duty.

*

Kirk, alone on watch, thought of the day’s events, remembering both the happy and the sad. He was pleased for Uhura and Scotty, but he also thought of their fallen comrade, and his last words. Was it true what Chekov had said, that he had come to this place of his own free will? Or was it out of some desire to follow his old captain? How much responsibility did Kirk bear for the Russian’s death, and how many more would he lose before this was over?

Kirk was still thinking these thoughts when McCoy rose to relieve him on guard, and the doctor came and sat beside him. He reached into his medical bag and removed a small silver flask; unscrewing the cap, he drank from it, then offered it to Kirk. The captain took a mouthful of the hundred-year-old bourbon, and looked around at their grim surroundings.

“It’s not exactly Yosemite, is it?” McCoy grunted, smiling slightly at the memory, and said nothing. Then Kirk went on. “Bones, is it true what Pavel said, that you didn’t come on this mad mission just to follow me? I mean, did you all really come of your own free will?”

McCoy looked at his friend for a moment, then laughed harshly. “My God, Jim. Who the hell do you think you are? Do you really believe that you’re the only one of us that knows their own mind?”

Kirk made to reply, but McCoy hurried on. “Of course we came because we wanted to. Oh, sure, you’re our leader, and you’d be our leader in just about any given situation. But that doesn’t mean that we’d just follow you blindly, unquestioningly, anywhere and everywhere.”

He paused, and took another pull at the flask. “After we retired, in three years I only heard from you that one time, Jim. Can you tell me you were happy in your retirement? Can you look me in the eye and say you didn’t turn backflips when you were recalled to active duty?

“Well, we all felt the same way,” McCoy continued, answering his own rhetorical question. “Could you really see me moldering away in sleepy little Peach Grove, Mississippi, good old Doc McCoy, administering pills and having no one but little old ladies to snarl at? Christ, I was going out of my mind down there!”

He paused for a moment, then went on. “And what about you? What were you going to do? Fade away and grow roses, or whatever it is that retired starship captains do? I don’t think so.” He offered Kirk another sip, then drained the last of the whiskey and tossed the flask into the bushes. McCoy was silent and introspective for a few moments, then continued.

“I think this is where we were always meant to fetch up, Jim. Here, or someplace like it. Look at the number of times we cheated death, escaped at the last possible second from a situation that should have been our last. For us to just drift into obscurity was not in the cards, I think. We’ve done too much, seen too much, to simply fade away, forgotten and ignored.”

Kirk looked at his old friend in the gloom. “You sound as though you don’t think we’re going to get out of this, Bones. I never knew you for a fatalist, or a defeatist.”

McCoy smiled mirthlessly. “There’s nothing defeatist about it, Jim. Just being realistic. But whatever the outcome, just remember that we’re all here for our own reasons.” Then he got to his feet, and said, “So don’t you go getting any high and mighty ideas that you’re somehow responsible for all this, that in some way you got us into this mess. We got ourselves into it, Jim, and if you don’t know that, then you don’t know us very well.”

With that, he turned and walked to the edge of the camp and took up his post under a tree, leaving a bemused Kirk to ponder his words. Maybe I don’t, thought Kirk, as he settled down to sleep. Maybe I don’t know them at all. Then he emptied his mind of all thoughts, closed his eyes, and slept.

***