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Admiral Komack’s face appeared on the screen in Captain Kirk’s quarters, followed shortly by Komack’s voice asking, “Captain, whose baby is that on your shoulder?”
James Kirk shifted slightly to bring the baby, with his tiny pointed ears, into profile view as he said, “This is Zarak, son of Commander Spock and Lieutenant T’Mid. Mr. Spock was injured on an away mission yesterday and his wife is sitting vigil while he does his healing trance. Naturally, as a responsible commanding officer and godparent, I offered to watch the tyke for them during beta shift, which is usually their family time.” He tried to take Zarak’s hand and make him wave at the camera; Zarak ripped his tiny fist away and shoved it in his mouth, instead.
Admiral Komack very obviously suppressed a smile as he replied, “Jim, while I admire your commitment to your crew, it’s going to be mighty difficult to discuss official Starfleet business while you hold a fussy infant in my line of sight.”
“I understand that, sir. Truth be told, I thought he’d be asleep by now. He had other ideas,” the captain admitted. “And I know that rescheduling an official monthly check-in call is a bitch – uh, a bit of a hassle, sir, so I didn’t want to cancel on you.” Zarak grabbed hold of his earlobe and yanked, forcing him to bend his neck at an awkward angle.
Komack did smile, then, as he said, “Do you think you could call me back in fifteen minutes, without a baby on your screen?”
“Absolutely, no problem, thank you for your understanding, sir,” Jim insisted, as he tried to gently pry Zarak’s sticky fingers off his ear. Komack disconnected, and he sighed aloud. “Zarak, I don’t suppose you’re about to calm down and go to sleep in the next 10 minutes, are you?” Zarak made a sound like guh, and Jim replied, “Didn’t think so.” Then he tapped an intercom button and said, “Yeoman Rand?”
“Speaking,” came the reply, after only a few seconds. Jim had often felt awkward about the regulations that kept yeomen on-call round-the-clock (does any grown man, even a starship captain, need a whole other person to be in charge of his health and safety?) Yet at the moment, he was grateful for it.
After briefly explaining the situation, he asked, “Rand, are you any good with kids?”
She said simply, “I’m on my way.”
When she got to the captain’s quarters, he was apologetic. “Zarak’s had his bottle and he’s in a clean diaper. He just doesn’t want to settle down and get to sleep,” he explained. “I hate to ask for your help with something so far outside the job description...”
Rand waved away his apologies, saying, “I’m sure Zarak and I can keep each other company while you and the admiral handle important command-level communications. Does he like lullabies?” Captain Kirk confirmed that he did, and she said, “Good! Where is Zarak’s assigned bunk for tonight?”
Still holding his fussy godson to his shoulder, the captain showed her the travel crib he’d set up next to his own bed in the sleeping nook, and the changing station he’d assembled on one of his shelves. “This privacy screen isn’t soundproof,” he added, “So Komack and I will just have to put up with any noise you two might make. As for anything you might overhear…”
“Top secret, my lips are sealed,” Rand confirmed before he could say more. “Does he want to be swaddled?”
“Nope, he’s a sprawled-out sleeper.”
“Got it. Now, you’d better hand over that baby and get to your desk.”
Kirk hesitated for a moment to warn her, “Two things: first, he’s a touch telepath, so he’ll know if you’re upset. Second, he may cry when you take him.”
Janice Rand smiled and said, “I’m thinking plenty of lovely thoughts, don’t worry.” She moved into little Zarak’s line of sight and in a sing-song tone she said, “Hello, little prince! I’m your Aunt Janice! Can I give you a hug?” Then, smooth as could be, she slipped her hands under his arms and transferred him off Kirk’s shoulder and into the cradle of her arms without giving him time to react. Instead of crying, he raised one eyebrow at her as if to say, “?” She snorted and said, “Oh, so Daddy’s taught you that expression already, has he? Look out, world!” She winked at the captain and retreated to the sleeping nook, baby and all.
Jim wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or incredibly worried about how well that had gone. Either Zarak’s too sleepy to scream, or he’s bonding with Janice better than he bonded with me. Regardless, he had to hurry to call Komack back.
The official calls had a tendency towards tedium, and this one was no exception. The sound of the yeoman trying to soothe the baby made an interesting change, though. As Komack went through ‘The Brass’s Questions About Your Latest Logs,’ Jim could hear Rand promising Zarak that if he closed his big bright brown eyes, there’d be cake in the morning. When Komack transitioned to ‘Important Personnel Updates’, a lovely alto voice was explaining that when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. Rhythmic shushing underscored Komack’s ‘Latest Intel from the Neutral Zones.’
“And finally this month, there’s a PR issue that you should be aware of,” Komack said. “It concerns your mother’s adoption of Margaret Kirk.”
Jim had a feeling that he knew where this was going, but decided to play dumb for a moment. “How’s that a PR issue?”
“A certain...less-reputable news agency reported on it in vague terms, recently, and the Starfleet comms department flagged it for potential response. Specifically, this outlet reported, and I quote, ‘Winona Kirk, mother of famed Enterprise captain James T. Kirk, has adopted a girl born on that vessel to unlisted parents. Why did a Starfleet captain personally broker an adoption? Let’s think about that.’ Unquote.”
Jim sighed and replied, “In other words, they didn’t quite get all the way to saying that they think I’m Maggie’s father.”
“Which means you can’t file a libel complaint, correct,” Komack confirmed. “However, there are other ways to fight the gossip-mongers. You and your mother could put out an official statement explaining the situation.”
“We both know I’m not going to do that.” In the other room, Yeoman Rand sang I have loved you, and you are mine.
Komack said, “You wouldn’t have to mention any specifics. You could just say that a member of your crew was sexually assaulted on an away mission, resulting in a pregnancy, and asked for your help.”
“...and then any muckracking journalist worthy of the name could file a records request for human females serving on Enterprise who’ve been on ‘medical leave not otherwise specified’ since the day Maggie’s birth certificate was filed,” Jim pointed out, “Thereby leading them directly to the full name of the sexual assault survivor in question.”
The admiral scoffed, “Who says the tabloids are even interested in doing that much research?”
“My entire childhood as the ‘tragically orphaned son of the heroic George Kirk’ says it, that’s who. They ran a story with my full name when I got arrested as an eleven-year-old,” the captain shot back. They both started talking at once, then, and managed to continue for longer than you might expect.
Komack: “Names aren’t state secrets.”
Kirk: “The privacy regulations exist to protect survivors from exactly this type of scrutiny.”
Komack: “Well, if you won’t tell the truth, they’re going to continue making all kinds of insinuations about why you sent a baby home to be raised by your mother.”
Kirk: “I mean, the idea that I’d cover up an affair with a crewman is ridiculous, to begin with, since I already have one kid with a crewman I openly dated. If Maggie were mine, I’d do the same.”
Komack: “Which means eventually someone will ask, ‘how is Margaret Kirk different from David Kirk-Wallace?’ And the implied answer is going to be that you’ve committed a rape, and you’re covering that up.”
Jim couldn’t help himself; he slammed a hand on the table. “Dammit, Admiral, you know I’d have to sue if they said that!”
In the momentary pause as both men caught their breath, Yeoman Rand’s voice sang Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
Komack was the first to collect his train of thought and say, “That’s exactly my point, Jim. Your choices are ‘tell the full truth now so we can control the narrative,’ or ‘wind up having to litigate the truth as part of a libel lawsuit in six months.’ I know neither one is ideal, but you have to make a call.”
“I’ve made my call,” Jim said quickly.
The admiral gave him a look that Jim couldn’t quite read. “Fine, Kirk, I’ll tell the communications team that you want to ignore this,” he said after a long moment. “Good night. Komack out.”
Jim turned off the comm screen, took a deep breath, and went to check on his godson. When he pulled the privacy screen open, Yeoman Rand was standing directly on the other side with a finger to her lips. Startled, Jim looked past her to the crib. Lo and behold, Zarak was sound asleep and dreaming. “You’re a miracle worker,” he declared to Rand in a whisper, standing aside so she could step out of the sleeping nook.
She closed the privacy screen behind her and whispered back, “Full-service yeoman, that’s me.”
“Can’t argue with that assessment,” Jim confirmed. By silent agreement, they both crossed the room and stood as far away from the sleeping nook as possible, so as not to wake Zarak. The captain said, “You’ve certainly gone above and beyond tonight. I’ll put a commendation in your file once I think of a way to word it that doesn’t start with I needed help putting a baby to sleep.”
Yeoman Rand smiled and said, “In the interest of getting back to normal yeoman duties, may I ask whether you’ve eaten dinner yet?” Jim put on his best innocent face, and of course she saw through it. “I’ll get something from the galley and bring it up, then,” she volunteered.
Having learned that it was pointless to tell a yeoman not to put themselves out, Jim said only, “Bring something for yourself, if you’re making the trip.”
They ate sitting across from each other at Jim’s desk, the comms viewscreen stowed away to free up space. Jim drank a bowl of soup and devoured two rolls while Janice worked her way through a Caesar salad. “Should I give you my usual weekly report, as long as I’m here?” she suggested over the meal. Jim accepted, and she launched into a long summary of the latest scuttlebutt, social items, lower-decks issues, and other miscellaneous things that can affect shipboard morale. Jim had added “keep your ear to the ground” to her assigned duties not long after her joining the crew, and the system had worked well. Sometimes, a captain needed to know which lieutenant had recently fallen out with which ensign over both of them dating a certain botanist, so that the parties involved wouldn’t be assigned any joint missions for a few weeks. Starship captains can’t gossip, but what’s a yeoman if not a person who does everything the captain can’t?
During the litany, Janice happened to mention, “Oh, and when I visited the records department to see about the little paperwork challenge Mr. Dex mentioned, I got to chatting with your friend Ben Finney. Did you know his little girl just won a story-writing contest at school?”
“Sure did,” Jim confirmed around a mouthful of bread. “Her mom sent me a copy. Very cute how she worked the Horta in. 10 years old and she reads every news story about the Enteprise, just to keep tabs on her dad.”
“And on her godfather,” Janice pointed out. “I think being named after its captain might give a girl an interest in the ship.”
“Oh, Ben told you that part, too?”
“You kidding? There’s no one on board he hasn’t told,” Janice said with a laugh. “And you get more heroic with every rendition, too. He insists you practically delivered the child.”
Jim blushed as he said, “I was barely involved. Just went with his wife to keep her company while he was on his way there, that’s all.”
With a knowing look, Janice moved on to the next item on her list: “Lt. Palamas continues to be a bit stir-crazy during her medical leave. I convinced her to participate in the poker tournament being organized for Rec Room 1 next week, at least. That should get her out of her quarters for a little while.”
“Good. That’s important, when a person is recovering from trauma,” Jim agreed.
Janice didn’t even hesitate before casually adding, “She also made a point of telling me how wonderful you were when she was in labor.”
“Did my best until Bones called me a ham-handed starship captain and threw me out, anyway,” Jim responded. There was a look in his eye that indicated he fully knew where Janice was going with this, yet he didn’t say anything to stop her.
Janice took that as an invitation to press on: “I’m sure that if she heard there were unkind rumors spreading about you, she’d want to defend your good name.”
Jim put down his spoon and set his shoulders before saying, “That’s probably true, which is why we aren’t going to tell her.”
Janice suggested, “Shouldn’t it be up to her whether her name is connected to Maggie’s?”
“It was up to her. We discussed it before she delivered.”
“Oh,” said Janice. That made sense. Of course, if his concern was protecting the privacy of an assault survivor, the captain would’ve asked her how she wanted this handled. If she’d asked not to be listed on the child’s birth certificate, certainly the captain and Dr. McCoy would’ve respected her request. She should’ve known he wasn’t telling the admiral everything.
Jim interrupted her thoughts with, “Look, Janice,” and she was startled because he nearly always said Yeoman Rand. He went on, “I know I practically wrote myself into a cliché adventure novel – ‘captain on a long voyage gives his mother a child of unknown parentage to raise’. I know there’ll always be rumors. But if that’s the trade-off for giving that child a safe and loving home...my reputation can take it. Better mine than the lieutenant’s.”
Janice couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. Captains are supposed to take a few hits for their crew, of course. Still, let the press insinuate horrible things about your character to protect a crewwoman’s privacy didn’t seem like it was quite in the usual line of duty. Then again, was it any better or worse than offer yourself as a hostage in their place or die fighting for them? If Captain Kirk wanted to protect Lt. Palamas from the danger of irresponsible press stories, well, Yeoman Rand wasn’t likely to change that.
At length she said, “OK. The subject is closed.” The captain gave a curt nod. After a beat, she said, “That’s my report for this week. Now, do you want me to stay for a few hours in case Zarak wakes up? You need your sleep, after spending the last three shifts between the bridge and sickbay.”
The captain looked taken aback, which was a rare enough expression on his face that Janice had to suppress a snort of surprise. The expression passed as quickly as it came and he was his usual smirking self when he said, “I don’t dare cost a lady like you any of her beauty sleep.”
“Captain, I’m just as capable of racking out on your couch as you are of staying awake for 36 hours straight.”
“You mean you’d…” the captain needed a moment to process that – further proof, in Janice’s book, that he was sorely in need of some shuteye. He cleared his throat and said, “I’d hate for any rumors to start, if you were seen leaving my quarters tomorrow morning.”
Janice did snort at that. She said, ticking off points on her fingers as she went, “James T. Kirk, I’m surprised at your suspicious mind. A) nobody would suspect me of seducing you with your infant godson in the same sleeping nook; B) yeomen can be in their captain’s quarters at any hour, if duty calls; and C) your crew does not gossip about you.” She subtly underscored the your in that sentence, pausing in an attempt to telepathically let him know that she was really saying, and we’d fight anyone who tried to besmirch you, if you’d let us. She finished with, “In short, I can absolutely spend a night on your couch to help with the baby, and shame on any who thinks ill of it.”
After a significant pause, the captain protested, “I could never make a yeoman take the couch. What kind of commanding officer would I be?”
If he’d been yawning less, he might have won the ensuing debate. And Janice might’ve won it if she hadn’t been distracted by her heart absolutely melting. As it stood, they called a draw and both slept in the captain’s bed, laid out heads-and-tails, with Zarak dreaming peacefully beside them. Janice’s last thought of the day was, I will protect this man at all costs.