Chapter Text
“SCOTTY,” JIM SAID with an undertone of excitement that almost every crewmember had come to dread since their first week on the Enterprise. “Would you mind changing the gravity for a while?”
“Aye, Sir, actually I would mind.”
“But you could do it?”
“Of course,” the chief engineer said with some indignance.
“Then please set it to 1.8 g for the next half hour.” He smiled. “Parce que ça fait du bien.”
“Aye,” Scotty growled, “If you say so.”
Dr McCoy, who had been listening in the background with Spock standing next to him, turned to the Vulcan in exasperation. “You shouldn’t have woken him up today, Spock. Why don’t you just give him a good nerve pinch instead when he’s in such a mood? That’d save us all a lot of trouble.”
“I assure you, Doctor, that had I known what was going to follow my waking up the Captain this morning, I should at least have attempted to spare you the consequences. However, by the time I realised he was going to be in ‘such a mood’ today, it was already too late. My apologies.”
“For god’s sake, Spock, practice your mind touch,” was all the Doctor could say in reply before the resetting of the gravity field silenced him for a few painful moments.
The Vulcan raised one eyebrow in response, then turned his attention to Chekov and Sulu, whose good humour appeared to be more or less unshaken. This was no great surprise. In fact, with very few exceptions, Spock had found it to be generally more or less unshakeable.
Jim gave his crew a few seconds to adjust to their new environmental setting be-fore giving his next order, and from then on it was business as usual.
From Spock’s movements, the change in gravity was hardly noticeable. The gravity on Vulcan was higher than on Earth, and because of his natural physical constitution he possessed more stamina than the humans. Jim’s movements were very slightly slower than usual, but every one as precise and controlled as ever. He was at ease with the situation, embracing instead of fighting it and employing his physical capacity with great efficiency. Sulu, too, seemed to be not so much suffering as accepting a welcome challenge. His fencing skills served him well. He knew how to move without wasting energy, and even in this unfamiliar gravity he was a good judge of how much strength any one movement was going to require. Both retained a certain grace in their movements that did not waver throughout the thirty-minute-exercise. Uhura handled communications with all her usual dexterity, and Chekov, enthusiastic at first, made the mistake of using up more strength than was absolutely necessary and was longing for the drill to end by the time they were halfway through, but performed admirably nonetheless.
When thirty minutes had passed and the gravity had been reset to normal, Jim looked at his crew, all of them a little tired, and smiled appreciatively. “Excellent work, everyone. I think next week we can safely do forty minutes.”
“I think next week I’d like to be dead,” McCoy grumbled in response, straightening his back in an attempt to make himself look less damaged than he felt. “Jim,” he added, a little louder, “can I have a word with you in sickbay later?”
“Certainly. I’ll be with you in half an hour.” He was sure he could already guess what the doctor would want to have a word about.
When he entered sickbay, McCoy was already waiting for him behind his desk. Jim sat opposite him and looked at him expectantly, refusing to justify his actions before having been accused, even though he knew it was inevitable.
“Jim,” the doctor began, a little hesitantly. “What was this morning about?”
“Exercise,” he responded lightly, smiling at his friend, knowing it was not the answer to his question. The doctor frowned.
“I know that. What I’m asking you is why.”
“Every crew needs exercise.”
“I mean why in this way, and you know it! Do you think you could take this conversation a little more seriously?” The smile vanished from Jim’s face, and he leaned forward on his elbows.
“I am taking it seriously. So what is it you’re trying to tell me?”
“You’re pushing the crew too hard! What you’re asking of them is inhuman. I’ve given up trying to get you to be less demanding when it comes to yourself, but I’m not prepared to let you treat the people on this ship in the same way. They have their limits, Jim, and it’s time you learned to respect that. You rely on them to do their work in the best possible way, so I suggest you ensure they are able to work under the best possible conditions. A gravity factor of 1.8 is not part of the best possible conditions. It’s unacceptable. Someone might get hurt.”
Jim looked down at his hands for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he raised his head to look his friend in the eye. “Bones, I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I want to pro¬tect my crew. We both know that unexpected difficulties are never far away in deep space. I just want them to be prepared. And in some aspects, I simply don’t think Starfleet training is diverse enough to cover everything that could happen out here. So I’ve decided to start closing the gaps.” The doctor remained silent, so Jim continued. “I’m not doing this because I enjoy pushing my crew to inhuman feats. Academy training needs to be limited, I can understand that, or no one would ever be ready to graduate. It’s hard enough trying to prepare cadets for a thousand different challenges in normal gravity, there just isn’t time to try it in different conditions. But that doesn’t mean they might not need those skills at some point. What about being stranded on a planet that’s simply more massive than earth? Or even just a ship with different environmental settings? It happens, Bones, you know it does. And if it does, I would like to know that my crew at least have a chance. They’ve overcome so many obstacles during the past two years. They’ve come to a point where there’s a real routine to most things they do. They know the ship, they know their job, they know each other. So many crews don’t ever even get there, Bones. So I thought it was time to take them one step further. They’re ready for it, believe me. All I want is to keep them safe.” After another moment of silence, he quietly added: “We’ve had similar discussions several times over the last few months, Bones. Is it really so hard to believe that I’m doing this for my crew?”
The doctor sighed, all traces of anger gone from his face, leaving behind only a slightly weary look of concern. “I’m sorry, Jim. I guess sometimes I just get worried you’re losing sight of what they need. But I understand what you’re trying to do now.”
Jim smiled at him, relieved that there was no need for further argument.
“Just do it carefully, all right?”
“I will. And I’ve got you to remind me.”
Now it was the doctor’s turn to smile, somewhat mischievously. “You certainly do. I’ll be keeping an eye on things, believe me.”