A Midwinter Night's Dream                                    Click here for more Uhura Stories!!!

Captain's Log, Stardate 5311.2. The adventures aboard a starship make up the legends of Star Fleet, but actually, it is the tedious ongoing routine of neutral zone patrol that takes up most of our time.  In the last three months we've gone too long without adequate excitement or diversion, and my crew is beginning to display the effects of lengthy boredom.  Our brief stop at Star-base 3 did not provide them with the relief from routine that they require to remain sharp and alert.  I find myself craving some action, some new world or new civilization to explore.  Fortunately, the lack of activity is being offset temporarily by preparations for the ship's annual All Hallow's Eve party.  It is taking up most of the crew's spare time, and I am assured by Miss Uhura, this year's project officer, that a memorable time will be had by all.  I'm looking forward to it.  Captain Kirk out.

Kirk released the log button and looked around the unusually cheerful bridge.  The command crew displayed a unanimous feeling of well being, a feeling that had been noticeably lacking in the last thirty days.  Crewmen passing each other at their duties smiled at one another for the first time in weeks.  Occasionally, a brief laugh or chuckle could be heard as people described their proposed costumes or tried to guess what someone else was wearing.

Kirk smiled at the increased morale and silently hoped that something would happen to them before their high spirits wore off.  Considering the costume ball, he wondered if Yeoman Rand had completed his Alexander the Great costume.  Costumes were traditionally done by individuals and kept secret until the ball, but Janice had volunteered to do his costume as well as her own, and he had been grateful for her offer.  He hoped she didn't make the tunic too short this year.  Hopefully, Mr. Scott wouldn't wear his kilt again.  One year, Kirk recalled, Scotty had come dressed as a will-o-the-wisp wearing three sheets.

Kirk saw that Uhura was busy at her communications console, Mr. Spock was taking advantage of the lull to continue Ensign Chekov's instruction on the intricacies of the science station, and Mr. Sulu was monitoring his position with his usual, quiet dedication.  To Kirk, it seemed like a happy ship, and a happy ship made a happy captain.

Uhura concluded her conversation with the supply section and returned to her ship duties.  She was overjoyed at the news that supply had given her and could hardly wait for her break to pick up the package they had received.  She ran the remainder of her communications updates, checked to make sure everything was ready for the ball and waited patiently for her lunch relief from the communications center.

When Lieutenant M'Ress finally arrived, Uhura practically ran to the supply section.  She didn't slow down until she reached the privacy of her quarters with a small white box marked with her name and her ship assignment.  Carefully, she unwrapped it, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement.  She forced herself to read the enclosed note before unwrapping the contents.
 

 Dear Miss Uhura,

Enclosed is the Egyptian scarab you authorized me to purchase for you.  I found it in a small shop on Ramses IV.  I've included my modest finder's fee, payable at your convenience.  Should you, or your friends, require any similar type services, please keep me in mind.

                 Humbly yours,

                 Cyrano Jones

                 General Delivery

                 K-7
 

She smiled as she read the note.  Sulu had given her a hard time about buying anything from Cyrano, but the trader had come through with flying colors in spite of his questionable operating methods.  She couldn't wait until Sulu saw her at the ball.

She felt her heart pound as she carefully unfolded the white wrapping material surrounding the scarab.  She told herself it was ridiculous to become excited over a Halloween costume, but nevertheless she smiled when the beautiful piece of jewelry came into view.  The ruby stone glowed strangely and the delicate veins of purple and pink seemed to pulsate with a life of their own.  The gem was smooth and shaped like a beetle with heavy gold edging which formed the head and legs of the scarab.

Uhura cautiously touched the warm jewel, mesmerized by its beauty and strange familiarity.  She knew it was the finishing touch she needed for her costume.  Jewel tenderly in hand, she took her Halloween costume out of the closet.

The costume was an Egyptian gown with a tall headdress.  The gold material cost her half a month's salary, and she had done most of the stitching by hand.  The ship's clothing fabricator had not been designed to handle material that looked like spun gold.  She had tried to remain true to historical references, but the costume had grown with a mind of its own.

She had to admit that it was striking, and she hoped that she could beat Sulu this year.  He had managed to win last year with his Musketeer costume.  She hung her costume back in the closet and hurried to the bridge, the scarab still clutched in her hand.

Sulu, intent at his helm position, didn't notice Uhura's rushed return to the bridge.  He was deep in troubled thought about his own future, and his plans reached farther than the upcoming Halloween party.  On Starbase 3, he'd encountered several of his Star Fleet Academy classmates, and, as always, he was a little chagrined at the promotions to Lieutenant Commander and beyond his fellows had obtained.  They were actively pursuing their careers while he was sitting at the helm of the Enterprise.

Sulu knew it was time for him to make a decision about his future, and the only sensible answer was one he didn't like.  It was time for him to leave the Enterprise and take a more responsible assignment elsewhere.  If he ever hoped to make captain, he had to get out of his helm chair and off the Enterprise.

He glanced around the busy bridge, seeing his co-workers in a new light.  He knew they were a good team with a good commander, possibly the best in Star Fleet.  Kirk exemplified everything Sulu admired: honor tempered with humanity, seasoned charm accompanied by a childish enthusiasm, and competency earned by years of hard work.  But, due.to the limited number of command spots open to Sulu on board the Enterprise, all the hard work in the galaxy couldn't get him promoted to a position filled by such high-caliber individuals as Spock and Scotty.  He had to leave if he hoped to advance.

He sighed and tried not to think of the friends he would be leaving behind, friends like Chekov and the lovely Lieutenant Uhura.  He recalled the hours he and the communications officer had spent together consoling each other over lost loves, hopeless missions, and grand schemes unfulfilled.  Somehow, they'd never hit if off romantically, and now it was too late, he realized sadly.

He had made an appointment with the captain to discuss his decision to move on.  Hopefully, the interview would be short and sweet, and he could leave with dignity even if it was the most difficult choice he'd ever make in his career.

Resolutely, he turned back to his work, determined to do his best until he left the Enterprise for good.

Mr. Spock repeated the question.  Uhura looked up at him slowly, not comprehending what he had asked.

"Sir?" she said thickly.  She seemed to be having trouble focusing on the first officer.

“Lieutenant," Mr. Spock said, "are you all right?  I asked for the latest Star Fleet orders three minutes ago.  Is there some problem with my request?"

"No, sir," she mumbled, looking down at her clenched fist.  She smiled unexpectedly and glanced at her records.  "No new orders from Star Fleet, sir.  We are to continue our present patrol until further notice."

Spock wasn't fooled by the nonchalant reply.  "Thank you," he said, looking at her attentively.  "Lieutenant," he almost exclaimed, "you've hurt yourself."  He indicated the blood dripping from her left hand.

"I have?" Uhura looked at her hand as if she'd never seen it or the cut before.  She looked up at him, frightened.  "I must have cut myself accidentally."

"I shall call your relief while you report to Sickbay," he told her and watched while she numbly followed his orders.

"Yeoman Rand," he summoned the passing crewman, "please see that Miss Uhura gets to Sickbay."

"Aye, aye, Mr. Spock," Janice Rand said, and took Uhura's arm to escort her to Doctor McCoy's office.

Kirk watched the Lieutenant leave and calmly walked over to his science officer.  Spock was standing beside Uhura's chair, a look of concentration on his face.  "Is she all right?" Kirk asked.

"Lieutenant Uhura appears to be suffering from fatigue and minor laceration to her left palm; however, I'm sure Doctor McCoy will provide you with the details when he files his report."

Kirk smiled.  "She's probably been working day and night on the Halloween party and her costume.  I suspect there are people all over this ship suffering from fatigue and tailoring 'lacerations'."

"Indeed," Mr. Spock commented.  "I do not understand the apparent human need to pay homage to that which is frightening to them."

"It's a form of bravery, Mr. Spock," commented the captain.  "We're not as afraid of things if we can laugh at them.  Besides, everyone likes to be a little scared occasionally; it adds a certain spice."

"Spice?  I do not understand."

"Perhaps I should have Doctor McCoy explain it to you."

"That will not be necessary, Captain."  Spock locked his hands behind him and marched back to his station, leaving a smiling Kirk behind.

Lieutenant Commander Simon Bates leaned back in his chair in the security monitoring room and scanned the incident reports logged by his people in the last eight-hour shift.  The number of disturbances, pranks and accidents was increasing as predicted, he noticed.  He'd known that the upcoming Halloween party would result in an increase in reportable incidents, but he had his men prepared for it.

One recent entry caught his eye as it scrolled by, and he punched up the accompanying detailed report.  Apparently, a routine walk-through inspection of one of the little used maintenance hallways, 4D, had revealed an unusual type of graffiti.  Someone had covered a twenty foot wall with some sort of hieroglyphics.  Tricorder scans hadn't been able to determine the date of the vandalism, but Commander Bates knew that it had to be in the last three days, since the date of the previous inspection.  He would have to ensure that it didn't happen again.

He added a note to the report to have maintenance install a camera in the hall and continued his review.

Cats.  The word caught his eye and brought a frown to his strong mouth.  Several crewmembers had reported seeing cats in the Enterprise hallways in the last eight hours.  Pest control was a job Security wasn't particularly proud of, but someone had to ensure that small animals did not overtake the ship.  The captain had enough difficulty taking care of the humans onboard without worrying about alien lifeforms taking over pets and rodents.  Whoever had smuggled cats on board was going to receive a personal message from Commander Bates on endangering the crew.  He made a note to brief all security people to be on the lookout for cats, and hoped Captain Kirk didn't find one sitting at his dinner table before Simon could get rid of them.

Just because it's Halloween, he thought to himself, all the weird stuff is coming out of the closets.  He finished the last of the reports and checked out of security.  He had his own gladiator costume to get ready, but somehow he wasn't as enthusiastic about the party as he had been.  He had an uneasy feeling that something was going to happen, but he couldn't find a logical reason for it.  With a shrug, he headed for his quarters, intent on walking through maintenance hallway 4D on his way home.

Sickbay was empty save for Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel who were standing over the reclining form of Lieutenant Uhura.  "Really, Doctor," Uhura was saying, "I'm fine." She held up a bandaged hand and smiled bravely.

"Oh, that," McCoy indicated her hand.  "You ought to be more careful with that junk jewelry.  I've cut myself worse shaving.  What I'm concerned about is your apparent lack of concentration.  Have you been sleeping well?"

"Yes, Doctor," Uhura said honestly.  "I never have trouble sleeping.  I think it's just the excitement over the party tonight.  I intend to have the winning costume this year."

McCoy smiled at her sudden exuberance.  "Well, as soon as Christine finishes these tests, you're free to go.  Good luck." He left the examining room for his office and his own party preparations.

Nurse Chapel made notes onto an electronic clipboard and instructed the medbed to continue its checkup.  After several minutes, she turned off the monitors and helped Uhura to her feet.  "We should have these results in a few minutes," she said with a smile.  "Most of Sickbay is off tonight for the party." She handed Uhura back the ruby scarab.  "I can't wait to see your costume."

Uhura ignored the nurse, intent upon the odd ornament. One of the machines chimed softly, and Christine read the printout.  "That's odd," she said.  "These readings look like someone on psych drugs.  I…”  Her voice trailed off as Uhura stared at her menacingly.

"Is there some problem, Nurse?" she asked.

Christine looked momentarily confused, but apparently forgot what she was about to say.  "No," she said, "no problem."

"Very well, Nurse," Uhura said and strode out of Sickbay with her head high and her shoulders back.

Christine shook her head and closed out her nurses' log.  Soon she was headed for her own quarters and her Omicron Ceti III farm girl costume, and she had completely forgotten about Uhura's unusual readings.

Ensign Gaines screamed as the door of the rec room slid shut.  She crumpled into a sobbing heap on the floor, and several of the crewmembers rushed to her aid.

"What happened?" asked Yeoman Rand, taking the woman's quivering hand in her own.

Ensign Gaines looked wildly about.  "He had a whip!  He kept calling me a Mesopotamian and hitting me!  He ... he ... called me a slave."  She broke down sobbing and one crewman summoned security.  Possibly some overly enthusiastic party-goer had played a cruel trick an the young woman, but the crew of the Enterprise was trained in reacting to any situation as if it were life or death because chances were good that it was.

"I'll take her to Sickbay," Rand and told her shipmates.  "Tell them we're on our way."  Escorting sick people is becoming a habit with me, thought Rand.  I should be going as Florence Nightingale instead of Helen of Troy.  She helped Ensign Gaines to her feet and headed for Sickbay.  Hopefully, the wild man with a whip had moved on.

The clothing fabricator on deck 14 was working at maximum capacity.  If anyone had noted its operation, they would’ve been surprised to discover that it was producing only one type of costume--that of an Egyptian native, circa 1350 B.C.

Kirk checked the wall chronometer and futilely tried to tug the tunic down one last time before leaving his cabin. He didn't dwell on how short Rand had made his costume and how much flesh he exposing as he walked down the deserted hallway to Spock's quarters.  All but a handful of crewmen were already dressed at the party.  At Spock's door, Kirk found the Vulcan, impeccably dressed as Sherlock Holmes, waiting for him.  He didn't say a word at Kirk's naked legs, but Kirk noticed one eyebrow move into its familiar arch.

"Rand," Kirk said by way of explanation and led the way to Sickbay to collect McCoy.  Spock followed, careful not to comment on the captain's sudden blush.

Spock had volunteered to work the evening shift, but Kirk had insisted the Vulcan take the opportunity to study human behavior from within a social situation.  He felt Spock needed to explore his human half; not hide from it under the convenient auspices of duty.  Spock had eventually, if somewhat skeptically, agreed to accompany the captain and the doctor, but when they got to Sickbay, no one was there.

"That's odd," commented Kirk.  "Someone should be on duty here, even if Bones isn't."

"Affirmative, Captain.  Shall I summon Security?"

Kirk looked displeased.  He had given permission for all decks to go to skeleton crew manning during the Halloween party, but heads would roll if an entire section had disobeyed orders.  "Yes," he agreed.  "Get somebody up here.  Someone's got to take care of the hangovers and broken noses."

Spock activated McCoy's desk intercom to call security.  He got no answer.  He tried Engineering with the same result.

Kirk punched up the Bridge, and, when the skeleton crew there didn't respond, he tried Rec Deck 7.  No one answered, but he could hear strange music.  "Let's go," he said through clenched teeth.

His blistering admonishment of the crew's dereliction of duty died on his tongue as the doors to the rec deck opened.  The room was packed with the entire ship's complement.  Walls covered in glowing golden hieroglyphics lit columns that supported an arched ceiling, a ceiling that shouldn't have been there.

A stunningly beautiful woman sat on a dais in the center of the room.  All eyes were on her as she stood to stare at the intruders.

"What's going on here?" Kirk demanded.  "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Silence!" the woman ordered, and Kirk realized with a start that it was Uhura who was speaking to him.

"What's wrong with all of you?" Kirk asked, noticing for the first time that everyone in the room was dressed in Egyptian costumes.

"Fascinating," Spock offered, as Uhura approached.  She looked like Uhura, but the sultry walk was gone, replaced by a haughty stride.  The warmth she usually radiated had also vanished.  The woman confronting Kirk was a total stranger.

"Who are you?" Kirk asked.  "What have you done to my ship and crew?"

"Your ship, Roman?"  The Egyptian queen laughed.  "This is my royal barge.  These are my slaves.  My advisors tell me your words of a mutual treaty between us are lies, and you seek to destroy us!  Those who threaten the queen must die." As she spoke, she extended her palm, and two large men, dragging McCoy's unconscious form between them, dropped him unceremoniously at Kirk's feet.  The captain noted unbelievably that Lieutenant Commander Bates was one of the guards and Lieutenant Commander Scott was the other.  Spock knelt to the check on the doctor's condition.  McCoy looked ridiculous in his cowboy outfit, and for a moment Kirk was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.  It was a bad dream, a cheap holovid, a--   He pulled himself together.  "Who are you?" he repeated.

Her hard, black eyes peered deep into him.  "I am Nefertiti, queen of the Upper and Lower Nile.  I am death to all who oppose me!" She looked at her guards.  "Confine them; we will dispose of them after the festival."

"What happened?" McCoy asked with a moan.  He sat up, clutching his head.  Kirk helped him, relieved that his friend seemed none the worse for wear from the blow on his head.

"We were hoping you could tell us, Bones," he said, aiding him to his feet.

"I don't remember.  I was waiting for you two in Sickbay when Lieutenant Sulu came in with several security men.  It was real odd, Jim.  They were dressed like ancient Egyptians, and they all had this funny, confused look on their faces... They looked like Uhura did this afternoon when I bandaged her hand!"

McCoy looked around at the cell apparently chiseled out of stone, noticing their place of confinement for the first time.  A force field strip surrounded the door and two burly guards stood outside.  "Where the hell are we?"

"This is the brig, doctor," Spock identified the unfamiliar surroundings.

"What happened to it?" McCoy asked.

"Uhura, or whoever she is, is somehow altering the ship," explained Spock.

"She says she intends to kill the three of us," added Kirk.

"At the ship's current rate of conversion," Spock continued, examining the stone wall, "she and the crew will die before our sentence can be carried out.  It will take approximately four point three hours for the Enterprise to become a pseudo-Egyptian structure incapable of existing in space."

"Four point..." McCoy repeated.  He walked to the rear of the cell and rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head.

"We've got to get out of here." Kirk turned to Spock.  "Then we've got to find out who's doing this and stop them."

"A sound plan of action, Captain; however, execution may be difficult."

Kirk looked at his first officer and grinned.  Instead of sharing whatever plan he had in mind, he approached the doorway and summoned the guard.  "Inform the queen that the Roman statesman wishes to renegotiate the treaty."

The guard looked doubtful, but wasn't willing to take a chance on displeasing the queen.  "I shall relay your message to the captain of the guard," the man said and strode off down the hall.

"Jim, what are you up to?" demanded McCoy.

Kirk tugged down on the skimpy tunic and smiled again.  "A little diplomacy, Doctor, a little diplomacy."

“General Jamus," Nefertiti/Uhura purred at the handsome man sitting on the low bench at her feet, "do you wish more wine?"

"No thank you, your highness," Kirk said with a smile and raised his goblet to indicate it still contained some of the delicious elixir.  "It is excellent."  He wasn't simply being charming--it was excellent.  It was far better than anything the food synthesizers could produce.  Whoever she was, she must possess incredible power to alter reality as she desired.

She stood and surveyed the luxurious surroundings.  Kirk's gaze followed hers around the spacious deck, taking in the heavy tapestries, gold statues, and the platoon of linen-swathed guards.

Uhura inhaled deeply and turned to Kirk.  "Can you imagine after countless centuries, General, having your wildest, deepest dreams fulfilled?  No."  She didn't let him answer.  "You can't.  Like all leaders, your heart is ruled by your mind.  You don't care about love..." She paused, looking at him with a strange expression.  For a brief second, Kirk thought she was going to cry.  He noticed she was fondling an odd beetle pin as the captain of the guard approached and interrupted them.

"Sulu!" Kirk exclaimed and jumped to his feet.

The former helmsman drew his blade, instinctively protecting the queen.  Kirk sat down.  There was no recognition in those dark eyes, only cold appraisal of a potential adversary.

"What is it, Aton?" Uhura asked sharply.  Why was the captain of the guards being overly protective?  Kirk found himself observing two of his best crewmen for their weaknesses.

"Your quarters are ready, my queen," Aton reported with a respectful bow.

Kirk witnessed her disapproving stare before she replied, “Thank you, Aton.  You may leave."

"But the foreigner--"

"I said, you may leave!"

Aton knelt at her feet and backed out of her presence.  He cast a deadly look at Kirk as he departed.

"My apologies, General," she said.  "Aton thinks himself my keeper."

“I understand," Kirk said, tactfully changing the subject.  "Our trade agreement with you is important to us.  We're willing to agree to whatever terms you desire."

She leaned closer to him, and the look in her eyes was one of possibilities.  "So, the lion from the north suddenly becomes a lamb.  What are you up to, General Jamus?" Her long fingers slowly traced the line of his jaw.

Kirk smiled at her question, undeniably drawn to the mysterious woman in a way he'd never been attracted to his ommunications officer.  Here was a woman with the confidence to match his own.  He chose his words carefully.  "I find myself faced with an opponent whose charms exceed my negotiating skills."

"Flattery, General?  I'm honored.  Perhaps we should retire to my quarters and discuss this further."

Kirk finished his goblet of wine and escorted her past a glowering Aton and into the dim rooms beyond.

Kirk was returned to his friends while the queen of the Upper and Lower Nile contemplated what he told her.  Kirk noted that the force field strip around the brig's doorway had been replaced by heavy bronze latticework.

"Jim!" blurted McCoy.  “What happened?"

"Nothing," answered Kirk.  “I told her that her unusual barge is in danger of being destroyed.  She's going to consult her royal advisors."

"Is it really Uhura?' McCoy inquired.  "And how is she doing all this?" He indicated the cell around them.

"I do not believe it is the lieutenant," Spock replied.  "Some entity has taken over her body and is using it to shape the Enterprise into a poor facsimile of an Egyptian structure.'

"Possessed?”  McCoy looked worried. "You mean an evil spirit? But that's superstition, Spock!'

"Just because we cannot explain it, Doctor, does not make it unscientific.  Although whatever has possessed Miss Uhura has not been completely successful."

"What do you mean?' Kirk asked, hoping for a solution to their problem.

"If you had the power to transform reality to your desires, would you leave your three most logical opponents in possession of their own free will?  I think not.  Also, as I recall my Egyptology, Nefertiti was not the queen of the Upper- and Lower Nile.  It appears that the Nefertiti entity, whatever it is, was attracted by Uhura's subconscious wish to live in that period and built upon her faulty perceptions of ancient Egypt. The Enterprise is being converted to a part of Egypt that never existed, but enough of the real Uhura remains to retard the process.”

"We've got to snap her out of it before whatever that thing is takes complete control," McCoy insisted.

"I don't that's possible, Doctor, unless we discover what caused the transference.'

Kirk 1ooked hopeful.  "She was holding a large red gem the entire time we were talking!  I thought it was costume jewelry, but it never left her fingers."

"And she started acting strange after she cut herself with the stone earlier on the bridge,” added McCoy.  "It's a good guess that the stone is the catalyst."

Kirk looked thoughtful for a moment.  "Now how do we get out of here and get it away from her?'

"Captain, if I may make a suggestion," Spock interjected.  "I believe Doctor McCoy's condition has taken a turn for the worse."

Kirk smiled at the Vulcan and McCoy moaned.  "Why can't he be the sick one just once?" He dutifully collapsed on the floor as Kirk yelled for the guard.

The corridor was dimly lit and empty except for an occasional passing cat.  The overhead light panels had been replaced by sputtering torches stuck into the wall at irregular intervals.  The three of them did not make an inconspicuous task force.  Spock's tweed coat flapped and McCoy's chaps rustled as they hurried toward the throne room.

"Be careful of Sulu," whispered Kirk.  "He thinks Nefertiti is his personal property, and he doesn't take kindly to trespassers."

McCoy gave Spock a meaningful look.  "I wondered how he discovered that?"

The shrewd Vulcan gave no reply.

Several times they were forced to hide from patrolling guardsmen and heavily laden slaves.  Once, Kirk thought he saw Rand carrying a rack of roasted pig, but decided it was not an opportune time to lodge a complaint about his embarrassing hemline.

The patrols increased the closer they got to Nefertiti's chambers, but they managed to avoid them by using maintenance ducts and emergency hatches.

"Captain," Spock stopped Kirk with a soft-spoken word.  "We have less than an hour before the Enterprise becomes a royal barge."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Kirk grunted as he kicked out another vent grill.

As they neared her bedchamber, they heard voices.  Kirk strained to hear the people talking within the room.

"Your safety is my responsibility," Aton/Sulu was saying.

Uhura's rich laughter answered his statement.  "You are an idiot, Aton.  You don't care about me. All you are concerned about is your duty.  Promotion and power are all you care about.  My needs mean nothing to you."

"Untrue, my queen,' he insisted.  "I would die for you."

"Because of the position or the person, captain?"

The lengthy pause evidently displeased Nefertiti, because her next words were cold and harsh.  "Get out," she told him.  "Attend to your precious duties.  You have made your choice, now get out."'

Aton's protests went unheard and soon the queen was alone in her room.  Through the grill, Kirk could see her lying on a bed of scarlet and purple pillows, apparently angered at Aton's heartlessness.  She had removed her headdress and was wearing a simple robe of white linen trimmed in gold.  She smiled as her fingers found the stone and stroked it gently.

The vent crashed to the floor and Kirk swung down, followed by Spock and McCoy.  Nefertiti's screams summoned Aton back into the room with four of his men, but Spock darted to the heavy stone door and wedged it shut before more reinforcements could arrive.  Kirk and Aton met in a deadly embrace at the queen's feet, and Spock and McCoy were hard pressed to protect themselves from the remaining guards.

To Nefertiti, it seemed as if the man with the strange ears was a wizard.  He merely touched her men and they fell dead to the floor.  She huddled in her bed, confused and afraid.  The whispering stone was silent.

As quickly as the fight had begun, it was over.  Kirk had Aton pinned to the floor, and the doctor was securing the rest of the guards with his lariat.

"Hold him." Kirk thrust Sulu at Spock and approached the frightened woman, determined to obtain the stone.

"If you touch me, I will kill myself," she warned him.  She held a small, sharp blade positioned above her heart.

"Uhura," Kirk said her name deliberately.  "The ship is in danger.  We're all going to die if you don't help us." He paused, watching the shifting expres-sions of concern and hatred cross her face.

"Ship ... in danger?" she asked uncertainly.  "You lie!  You want me to give up my rightful place!"

"No, no," Kirk consoled her.  "You are the queen.  Your name will be on the lips of men for the rest of eternity." He spoke sincerely.  She smiled, and he continued, "We want you to save your people.  Give us the jewel."

“No!" she screamed, and held the stone outstretched in her hand, as if to use it as a weapon.  "I will ... not ... be ... destroyed!" The young 's internal struggle between her true nature and the Nefertiti creature was apparent to the three men standing there, too uncertain of the outcome to move.  Lieutenant Uhura's persona won the upper hand momentarily and she held the stone out to them.  "Quickly," she whispered, "destroy it!"

Spock plucked the scarab from her shaking hand as Uhura's eyes slipped back into madness.  He ran toward the engine room with Kirk on his heels.  McCoy remained behind, holding the screeching woman to keep her from hurting herself.  The pseudo queen of the Nile reasserted herself while McCoy watched helplessly.  Uhura's soft features were replaced by an uncharacteristic scowl of rage.

"No!" she roared and struck him with maniacal strength, hurling him against an unpadded wall.  Dazed, he staggered to his feet, rubbing a new sore spot on his head, and followed her rapidly departing form.

He caught up with her outside Engineering, but, out of her mind with fear, she managed to tear herself out of his grasp and smash open the primitive lock with her metal wristband.

Inside, Spock was using his own formidable strength to get to the still unchanged antimatter chamber.

"Spock," panted Kirk, "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Captain, the only way to ensure that the jewel is completely destroyed is to convert it to decayable energy." He worked as he talked, removing the safety baffles to expose the shutdown chamber.  He slid open the last failsafe just as Uhura, unrecognizable in her fury and unkempt appearance, entered the room.  Kirk intercepted her as Spock thrust the jewel into the chamber and closed and activated it.

" No!" shrieked the Nefertiti being.  "A thousand years--" Like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut, Uhura slumped between Kirk and McCoy.  Spock switched off the chamber while McCoy attended to the cuts and bruises of the former queen of the Nile.

Several hours later, a tired James Kirk glanced around the subdued bridge.  Oddly enough, most of the crew did not recall the Egyptian experience.  The few who did remember the conversion of the Enterprise considered it to be a waking dream.  Kirk had made a full entry in his log, including possible criminal charges against Cyrano Jones, but even he had trouble believing it actually happened.

He turned to see Doctor McCoy step onto the bridge.  "How is she doing?" he asked the doctor, once again in his familiar medical blues.

McCoy gave him a tired smile.  "She's going to be just fine.  She doesn't remember any of the details, and as time goes by, I think she'll forget the entire episode.  I'm sure she won't be as interested in ancient Egypt as she once was."

Spock joined the two men to make his own report.  "The ship as well as the crew seem to have recuperated from the unusual experience without permanent damage."

"Yes," Kirk said, remembering how Sulu had cancelled his appointment to discuss his career.  On his way to see Uhura in Sickbay, he had mentioned that the importance of life was not about where you got to but how you got there.  Kirk had understood.  "Perhaps we'll dispense with the Halloween ceremony next year," he suggested.

"What?" said McCoy in mock amazement.  "And deprive all the young ladies of the opportunity of seeing Captain Kirk's legs?"

"Legs?' Spock asked innocently.  "Is there something remarkable about the captain's legs?'

"I've never thought so," confided McCoy, "but I hear Yeoman Rand has decided to do away with the tunic next year, and just leave him with a loincloth."  Several of the nearby crew suddenly were very busy at their consoles.

"Do you know what I'd like the two of you to leave me?" Kirk looked at the two smug faces.

"What is that, Captain?" Spock asked.

"I'd like the two of you to leave me alone."

Laughter simmered dangerously around the bridge, but it would probably have died down if Yeoman Rand hadn't chosen that particular moment to step out of the turbolift.  After that, not even Captain Kirk had the breath to explain the joke to her.
 
 

THE END                                             April, 1988                            Published in More Missions, More Myths #9