La Squeak
The bridge was alive with movement and every officer was at their post making sure that the ship sped on her way without a hitch. Kirk sat in the centre seat watching and listening for any sign of trouble. Spock was at his station running through some data that the sensors were supplying and trying very hard to study.
His head suddenly lifted, staring into space. Kirk caught the movement and, standing up, moved over to his first officer who did not move upon hearing his captain's approach, but still stood with his head slightly tilted, concentration written all over his face.
Kirk waited a few seconds then, leaning forward, asked, "Spock, are you alright?"
The Vulcan's eyes refocused and, sighing slightly, he replied, "Yes sir, I just thought I heard..." he stopped. There it was again, ever so slight but still, he was sure he heard it; but with the always-humming sound of the ship it was very difficult to tell.
"Spock," Kirk whispered impatiently. He disliked it when Spock was not acting his efficient self; it made him slightly nervous.
Spock turned his whole attention towards his friend. "Jim," he said. "I can hear a squeaking noise."
Kirk just looked blank. "Squeaking?" he repeated.
"Yes sir." The Vulcan nodded to emphasise the fact.
"Are you sure?" Kirk glanced up, then seeing the look in Spock's eyes, hastily went on, "Of course you are. Er, what do you think the noise is?" he asked hopefully: many things could go wrong with a starship, but he had to admit, he had never heard of one that began with a squeak.
"I'm afraid I don't know sir; it seems to have stopped for the moment, though."
This did not exactly settle his captain's mind, so he replied, "Keep looking, and if you find anything..."
"I'll let you know right away," Spock assured him.
With that Kirk had to be satisfied but, upon returning to his chair, he kept glancing over to Spock, who tried to concentrate on his data.
When nothing seemed to happen, Kirk began to lose interest in the squeak; it could not be that dangerous if Spock did not seem to be overly upset. Anyway, Kirk believed it to be the computer and that Spock was unwilling to admit the fact.
He sat there, watching over his bridge; everything was going nice and quietly. He did not realise when he first registered the noise, but suddenly it was there...
Squeak, squeak.
Slowly he turned his head, trying to pinpoint the sound. It was definitely coming from Spock's side of the bridge.
Nobody else seemed to have noticed. Sulu was checking the space line; Chekov was rather hunched over his console - the boy will get a backache like that - thought Kirk as his glance passed over the young ensign.
He spun his chair round to face Uhura. She, sensing his look, glanced up and smiled at him. He answered it and slowly turned back to his original position.
Squeak, squeak.
By now it seemed to Kirk that it was the loudest sounding thing upon the bridge. He began to have visions of the ship slowly squeaking apart. Maybe the welding spots were faulty. He had heard a lot of talk about how they had cut costs on these heavy cruisers.
Squeak, squeak.
He suddenly jumped up, causing most of the bridge crew to glance at him. He pulled his top down and firmly advanced towards his first officer, who turned round to face him.
"Spock, now I can hear it."
"Indeed. It seems to be coming from the navigation console or your seat."
"My seat?" It had never occurred to him that maybe his seat needed oiling. "Do you think...?" he began.
"It might be worth letting the engineer have a look at it."
"Okay." He moved off and arranged for someone to look at the chair. Just give it the once-over he suggested to the lieutenant in engineering. Six minutes later, Scotty appeared on the bridge, tool kit in hand.
"What's ye trouble Captain?"
"Well, Scotty," he pointed towards the chair. "It seems to be squeaking."
"Squeaking sir?" The disbelief was plainly to be heard in his voice.
Kirk took a deep breath. "Yes, Mr Scott, squeaking."
"Aye sir." The Scotsman sighed loudly and moved off to check the chair.
Kirk, meanwhile, began pacing the bridge. Everything was quiet.
"Course, Mr Chekov?"
"I32 mark 8, Keptin."
"Speed?"
"Warp four sir," replied Sulu.
"How long before we reach Starbase seven?"
Chekov quickly moved one hand over his console. "Fourteen hours thirty-two minutes sir."
"Good, keep that heading and speed."
"Yes sir," replied both Chekov and Sulu who threw each other secret sighs of relief.
"How soon before we reach communication range, Uhura?"
The woman gave a slight start; she had not heard his silent approach. 'What was Scotty doing with the centre seat anyway?' she thought.
"We should achieve communication contact in about two hours sir."
"Good," he murmured as he wandered off. He began to approach Spock; halfway there he stopped, tilted his head to one-side, then smiling slightly he reached Spock and whispered, "It seems to have stopped."
"Indeed, Captain." The Vulcan turned back to his computer.
Kirk stood waiting, watching the Vulcan fondly.
"Is there anything else sir?" Spock finally asked, not looking up.
"What? Oh, no Spock, just thinking."
"Sir?"
"Oh, nothing Spock." He moved away. He knew better than to disturb Spock while he was working; anyway, Scotty was showing signs of having finished.
He moved forward, toward the man who stood up, saying, "I canna find anything wrong sir, least nothing that would cause a squeak, but I did put a little fluid around the base lock."
"Good. It seems to have stopped anyway, Scotty."
"What has?"
Kirk turned to see McCoy standing beside him. "I kept hearing a squeak. I thought maybe it was the chair."
"Was it?" McCoy asked Scotty.
"Well, it could have been." He did not say it with great conviction, but Kirk decided to let it go.
Off went Scotty, back to his beloved engines. Both men ignored his moaning about being dragged away from his 'wee bairns'.
"Why did you get Scotty; an engineer could have done it," McCoy reasoned.
"I never asked for him personally to come, I just reported it and he turned up."
McCoy crossed his arms and replied, "Most likely took it as a personal insult against his department."
"I only said it needed a once-over."
McCoy smiled. "He has that chair checked out with every overhaul."
Kirk lifted his hand. "I know, I know, but I just thought... and anyway, it's not squeaking any more." And to prove the point, he swung to the left, then right.
"I'm impressed. Can you do that with a blindfold?"
Kirk gave up. "What did you want, anyway?" he asked pointedly.
"Nothing's happening in Sickbay, so I thought that I would just pop in and see how things were moving."
"Slowly."
"Boring trip, er?"
"Fraid so. Straight course, no detours: every captain's dream, every crew person's nightmare."
"We all need the rest," McCoy pointed out.
"Bones..." He stopped, frowned, tilted his head. "Shit!"
"Pardon?" McCoy tried to look shocked.
Kirk held up his hand. "Can you hear it?"
Now it was McCoy's turn to frown. "Hear what?"
"That damn squeak's back."
"I can't hear it."
"Listen."
Both men were quiet.
Squeak, squeak, quick, quick, slow.
"Could it be a mouse?" suggested McCoy.
"On board my ship?" Kirk sounded decently outraged.
"Just a thought."
Both men started to unconsciously scan the floor for any unwanted little furry bridge crew.
"Can't see anything," McCoy said.
"No, neither can I."
"Still, you had better get the hygiene squad up here," McCoy suggested.
"I'll talk to Spock about it."
The good doctor snorted. "Jim, it's not exactly a command decision."
"No, I suppose not."
Ten minutes later, the bridge was invaded by the local hygiene squad - and George.
Kirk looked at the officer who held George and asked, "Lieutenant Jason, what are you doing with that cat?"
"Oh, that's not a cat sir, that's George."
Somehow the good captain felt as if he was missing something. "George?"
"Yes sir. The best rat catcher this side of the interstellar rings of Callus."
"Callus! Lieutenant, we have not got rats."
"But sir, I was told you reported squeaking."
"Yes I did, and Doctor McCoy suggested that it might be a mouse."
"No sir,"
"No what, Lieutenant?" He was, by now, vainly trying to hold on to his temper.
"You don't get mice aboard a starship, but you can get rats... the storage compartments. Hence," he said, holding George up, "the cat."
"Are you saying I've got rats in my storage compartments?"
"Oh no, sir...' The heckles on Kirk's neck went down; the luckless lieutenant went on, "George caught them all; at least I thought he had. Excuse me, sir."
So saying, he put George down and began to follow him round.
Kirk sat down and watched the cat's progress about the bridge. At one point George stopped, hunched down, and the lieutenant went red and assured his captain that he would get someone right up to see to the mess.
Twenty minutes later, George was removed from Spock's lap and Lieutenant Jason and crew were banished down to the storage hold with the firm understanding not to show his or George's face around the captain for at least four months.
Kirk once again settled down.
Squeak, squeak.
He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. McCoy patted him gently, saying, "Come on Jim, it's not that bad. All ships make strange noises from time to time."
"My ship has never, ever, squeaked before."
"No, I'm sure she hasn't," the doctor said comfortingly. "Why don't you let me get you a drink? Shift's nearly over, and I think you could do with one."
"You don't think that maybe she's getting old?" Kirk queried.
"What do you mean... rust setting in?" McCoy joked. Seeing the look in his captain's eyes, he hastily said, "Jim, now you know these ships can't rust. It was meant as a joke."
Kirk's eyes refocused and he smiled, saying, "Of course they can't rust. Bones, I think I need that drink."
"My office awaits."
"Spock, you've got the conn." So saying, he left the bridge and the squeak behind him...
***
Later, when the shift ended, Sulu and Chekov got into the turbolift together.
"Well," Sulu asked. "Did you do it?"
"Not quite, but I will now that I can concentrate on it."
"Where did you get it from, anyway?" Sulu inquired.
"Julie... you know; she's in the history department. She gave it to me. Twentieth century puzzle she said; easy to do." All the time, Chekov was busily twisting the coloured cube that he held in his hand.
Squeak, squeak, quick, quick, slow.
Sulu smiled, saying, "You're lucky the captain didn't catch you with the noise that makes."
Chekov looked up. "It's only a little noise. He would not have heard it."
"Wonder what all the fuss was about, anyway?"
"He was bored, more than likely."
"Maybe you should let him have a go at your new toy. What's it called, anyway?"
"Rubik's cube... I think."
THE END
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