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Jim sees bright light surrounding two familiar figures in the white room. He tries to sit up, finding his arms and legs strapped down. He struggles.
“Bones, dammit, untie me!”
Bones readies a hypospray. “Stop fussing, Jim.”
Spock stands at the other side of his bed. Jim blinks at him, confused. “Hey, Spock, what’s with the beard?”
Ignoring him, a stern Spock says to Bones, “The Admiralty expect him to answer for his actions.”
Jim peers up at Spock. “Answer for what? Hey, what happened to Grail?”
Bones sighs, looking down at Jim, worry plain on his face. “I’m impressed he even remembers his own name, Spock.”
With a prick in the neck, everything blurs out.
---
Jim looks around the dark, dusty, deserted warehouse, moving carefully, staying low. Two rows of thick pillars run down the middle of the vast room. Piles of pallets and debris from the partially-collapsed catwalk are scattered throughout. Grail could be anywhere.
His phaser ready, cool in his hand, he pants and leans hard against a pillar. He staggers forward.
A pigeon takes off to his right, startling him badly. Shaken, Jim laughs, stumbling.
A man barrels out from behind some pallets. Jim takes aim at the figure, but it’s moving too fast, he can’t see well enough He misses his shot and the man is on top of him, close.
He feels cool hands efficiently disarm him. After an unusually short fight, he’s pinned against the wall, looking up at his attacker. They were both breathing heavily, but Jim can’t make out much in the darkness. He can see his own reflection in the sunglasses.
“Grail, you bastard.” Jim pants out.
His attacker smoothly flips Jim so he’s facing the wall.
“We’ve got you. There’s nowhere to run.” Jim’s bluffing. He knows he’s in trouble.
Jim feels a hand touch the back of his neck.
“Spock to Enterprise. I have located the Captain.”
The world goes black.
---
He runs, phaser drawn. There’s a man in front of him, running too. Why is he running? Jim needs to know.
His legs feel weak, as if they might give out, but he knows he can’t stop. Pushing himself, Jim gets just behind the man. Is this man Grail? Can’t tell, can’t see his face.
Jim hollers, “Hey, wait a minute!”
The man doesn’t wait. Must be a chase, then.
Jim keeps running, running after him across an empty concrete lot. Jim’s flagging, not keeping up the pace. There’s a warehouse up ahead and the man seems to be sprinting in that direction. Grail. Grail would use a warehouse like that.
The man makes it there first, pulling the door open. Jim slides through after him, but the man is gone, and the door slams behind him with a BANG.
---
Spots dancing in front of his eyes, Jim stands up and brushes dirt off his knees. He’s in the bustling outdoor market. He scans the area, trying to orient himself, but he’s so tired. He remembers his mission. Grail should be here, somewhere. He spots a man with a beard wearing the trademark sunglasses and a wool cap.
Gotta be Grail. Grail recognizes him, running away into the crowd. Jim follows, wearily, dodging around the mess of people.
After a while, they reach the outskirts of the market. Jim’s keeping an even pace with the man, his heart thundering in his chest. He draws his phaser, wincing.
---
Jim rolls onto his side, feeling his phaser digging into the small of his back. He can’t find his communicator. He needs to get up, needs to chase Grail. He stands up, venturing out of the trash-filled alleyway. The street is busy, bustling. He walks up to a merchant’s stall. “I’m looking for a man who wears wrap-around sunglasses and has a beard. Have you seen anyone like that go past?”
The merchant, finger trembling, points towards the bustling bazaar. Jim nods his thanks, and heads that way. He notices that the people seem to shy away from him, not meeting his gaze, so he checks his disguise in a store’s window.
He’s a little dirty and there’s some blood marring his forehead, but everything’s fine, no reason to worry about disrupting the native culture. His phaser is hidden under his jacket.
He’d find Grail. He knows he’s close.
A man pushing a wheeled cart bumps into him, hard.
---
Jim startles at the sound of a voice. He’s crouched behind a blood-smeared cooling tower, on top of a building. Jim stands and looks over the edge, jumping back behind as something whizzes by. It ricochets off an air vent behind him. A bullet, the primitive projectile of choice for this technologically stunted planet.
Jim draws his phaser, checking that it’s set to stun, and takes aim at his enemy. It’s a cop. Jim smiles grimly. Law enforcement is in Grail’s pocket.
He shoots the cop, stunning him. Jim knows there will be more. He staggers across the rooftops of blocks of row homes, and takes a fire escape down to street level.
Suddenly feeling woozy, Jim sits down behind a pile of garbage.
---
Jim’s curled up inside an air vent. He looks around himself, noticing tracks in the dust behind him. Below him, he hears voices. He waits until he can’t hear them anymore, then tentatively scoots further into the dusty vent. He feels the air flow increasing, and finds a short vertical shaft that ends in a slowly turning fan. He stands up, at the right height to easily knock the fan out of its casing. He shudders at the noise and hoists himself up into the light.
He’s on a roof. As he makes his way to the edge, he hears a shouted command.
He sees a flash of blue uniform and makes it out be a cop. The cop hasn’t seen him yet.
Crouching behind a cooling tower, he’s suddenly tired. He leans his head back against it, just for a second.
---
He sees unlocked handcuffs on the table and feels indents on his wrists. He’s sitting in a chair in a dimly lit room. There are no windows, just one bare bulb hanging on a chain.
“Now, tell me, what were you doing on that roof?” The man looming over him looks concerned. There’s a cop behind him, hand on his holster.
“We know you’re from Starfleet; we found your little toy.” He pulls Jim’s phaser out. “You know we don’t approve of meddling outworlders.”
Jim hisses, “Starfleet wouldn’t be here if you took care of your kids yourselves.”
The man looks non-plussed. He chuckles. “Is that why you pushed him? Witnesses place you at the scene.”
“Detaining a Starfleet officer on false charges? A bold move.”
“Ok, big shot, have it your way.” Suit nods at the cop, who moves to restrain Jim, but Jim’s quicker. He hits him hard, surging up out of his chair.
He shoves the cop away, punching the other guy in the face as he moves to the door. He stops to get his phaser, firing once as the other guy tries to get up.
He needs to get out, get away from these dirty cops, get back in touch with the Enterprise.
The door is locked.
There’s an industrial-sized air vent in the ceiling, so he shoves the table under it, tears it open, and pulls himself in. He makes it about twenty feet before he knocks his head on the ceiling of the vent.
---
Jim groans, head aching. He’s in a cell, on his back on the cement floor. He stands up, taking in the sink, toilet, bunk, and bars. He’s been captured. Jim checks for his communicator, his phaser. Damn. They must have disarmed him.
A pair of cops come up to the bars. The younger one says, “On your feet, killer.”
Jim gets up, follows their orders to place his hands against the wall.
They walk in, cuff him, and take him out of the cell, up two flights of stairs, and into a dimly lit room, one bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The young cop shoves him into a seat.
The old cop exits. A man in a plain black suit enters. The door’s lock clicks as it closes.
“We found your blood on a dead body.” he says.
“I don’t know anything about that. You’ve got to let me go. There are kids in danger.” Jim pleads.
“No one’s in danger, now. It’s just you and me.” The man paused. “As a gesture of good faith, I’m going to unlock your cuffs.”
He gets up, unlocking the cuffs, his shoulder bumping Jim’s head.
---
Jim’s in a cell, lying on a bunk. He sits up, confused and angry.
“Let me go! I haven’t committed any crime.” Jim yells. There’s no response. He stands, and finds himself losing his balance.
---
Jim’s in a cell, with blood on his hands. He sees a sink, and starts washing it off. He quickly douses his head with the water, and more red drips into the sink. He sits down on the bunk, probing gently at his head with his fingers for any serious wounds.
---
He’s cuffed to a bench in the back of a moving vehicle. He pulls at the cuffs, to no avail. After a moment the movement stops. A pair of cops open the door.
“Hey, this is a mistake.” Jim says, “I have information about a slave-trade operation in your city.”
The cops look bored, dragging him out of the van.
“I have information about the man known as Grail!” Jim bucks wildly as they propel him forward, throwing his energy into getting free. After a particularly violent twist, Jim’s vision begins to dim.
---
Loud sirens come from behind him. He runs through narrow streets, feet pounding the pavement. Blood trickles down his face. He wipes it away with his hands.
He needs to get away from the police. Grail is still out there.
He rounds a corner. Two police cruisers stop, and cops pile out. He manages to outrun them until he reaches a dead end.
They hit him with a taser.
---
Jim looks up from the pavement as the surrounding crowd recoils from him. A mother pulls her child away. “Nothing to see here,” Jim mutters. He tucks his phaser back in his pants and rises.
He must have a reason to be brandishing his weapon. Grail must be close. He circles around the market and notices a cop on the far side who is speaking to a woman. She points straight at Jim.
Jim tries to walk away, but the cop is on a radio already. Two other uniforms make their way across the bustling market. He decides to end the charade of normalcy and breaks into a run. Head rush.
---
Jim wakes up on the cool marble floor of an empty church. Groaning, he gets to his feet. He’s alone. He steps on a pair of plain wraparound sunglasses. As he bends to examine them, his head throbs. They have no VISOR modification. Not Grail’s, then.
He needs to meet back up with the Enterprise. He walks down the empty aisle, out into the sun. The light hurts his eyes.
---
“Oh god, you killed him. It was you.” The man pinned under him sobs, voice resonant in airy space. “I’m Kevin Dhand. I’m not the one you want.” Jim looks at his face, his beard. The terrified brown eyes that searched Jim’s face. “‘I’m not him! He’s dead, he’s dead.”
This man wasn’t Grail. Jim stood up, and the man rolled over, scurrying out of the church. Jim watches him go, nearby prayer candles’ flames fluttering as the doors close.
How had he gotten off track?
Above him, the bells begin to toll.
---
Jim sways on his feet, feet slipping on smooth tile. He clutches a man’s arm with both hands. The man resists Jim’s momentum. Jim sees his face: wraparound sunglasses and beard. It was Grail. Jim hustles them further up the aisle.
“What do you want from me? I’ll give you my money!” Grail cries.
“Save it, Grail, you know you can’t buy off Starfleet.” Jim knocks him to the ground, pinning him neatly.
“I’m not who you think I am!” Grail whipped off his sunglasses, hands shaky. “Look at me!” Two normal eyes stare back at Jim, no custom modification to the sunglasses.
“I heard about that trader’s death.” Not-Grail says, and bucks against him, trying to get away, dropping his sunglasses.
Jim presses down harder, thinking fast.
---
Jim looks at his reflection in a puddle. Other than a head wound, he’s in good shape. He’ll be able to handle Grail.
Jim swipes at the blood at his temple, moving along the sunlit avenues of the city.
Jim stalks down the street, getting his bearings from the taller church steeples. People on the street duck out of his way, or cross to the other side.
He’s getting close to Grail’s known hangout.
Jim cranes his neck, searching the faces in the bustling outdoor market. He spots the the highly reflective sunglasses at thirty paces away. The man is stroking his beard, examining a fruit merchant’s goods.
Jim closes the gap between them, pulls his phaser out, and holds Grail steady with his other arm. “Walk with me if you value your life, dirt bag.” He presses his phaser against the small of Grail’s back, standing close enough to block it from view.
Jim spots a church. He knows it will be empty, at this time of day. He tucks his phaser back in his pants, switches his grip on Grail’s arm, and pushes the doors open.
Tugging Grail up the main aisle, he stumbles slightly.
---
He wakes up on a fire escape. He’s on the lowest landing. He climbs down to street level. A commotion comes from one end of the alley. He knows he can’t get involved in this planet’s affairs, past stopping Grail.
He runs down the alley, away from the noise. His head throbs. He checks the landmark church steeples again, and cuts down another alley.
He feels dizzy.
---
He’s on the hot, asphalt-coated roof of a building, phaser drawn.
“I’m not going peacefully!” Grail yells, backing up closer to the edge. He has no weapon.
Jim steps forward, watching as Grail steps back again.
“I told you, stay back!” Grail is on the ledge now. “Back off, Starfleet!”
Jim intends to stun him, but fate intervenes.
Grail shifts his weight on the ledge. The old stone cracks, and Grail falls.
Jim runs to the collapsed ledge, and sees Grail’s body crumpled on the ground below. Grail’s not moving -- it looks bad.
Jim runs to the fire escape, runs to see if Grail has survived. He makes it to the bottom landing. Light-headed, he passes out.
---
The sky is painfully blue. Jim grips his phaser and eyes Grail, who is rapidly backing up towards the edge of the roof. He’s too close; if Jim stuns him now he might fall.
“Stop where you are!” Jim yells, taking a step towards him.
“Stay back! I don’t want to go to prison.” Grail’s about a foot away from the edge.
“You’re not going free.” Jim stops advancing. “Prison’s better than your alternative.”
Jim feels sick.
---
Jim’s on a roof, slumped over. His phaser is in his hands.
Grail charges at him, scrabbling at Jim’s gun. The phaser flies out of Jim’s grip, skidding to stop about ten feet away.
“I got you pretty good with that two by four. Surprised you’re still chasing me.” Grail smirks.
“Takes more than that to stop me.” Jim executes a combat roll, picking up his phaser. His vision swims.
---
Jim steadies himself on the stairs. Footsteps ring out, hammering up the dark stairwell. Grail.
Some steps are cracked, holes gaping. The banister creaks ominously as he puts his weight on it, advancing with as much speed as he dares.
Finally, he’s at the top. Jim draws his weapon. He sees a door flung open. It leads into the bright sun.
---
Jim gets up, clutching his head. He groans, reeling. There’s a bloody two by four by his feet alongside his communicator, broken. He still has his phaser.
A man runs away from Jim, down the deserted street. He glances over his shoulder, and Jim makes out his face. It’s Grail.
Jim gives chase, and they weave through the abandoned buildings. Grail ducks into one. Jim follows a few seconds after.
There’s little light on the inside. Jim can hear movement to his left. He follows it, nearly tripping over the first step.
Grail must be on the stairs. Jim starts climbing, clutching his aching head.
---
Jim’s got his game-face on. “Our information says the intersystem slaver know as Grail hangs out here.” He points to a corner of a large, open square on the map. “It’s an open market, typically full of civilians. We’ve got to get him away somehow, then capture him.”
“He knows where they’re holding the kids.” Jim looks around the small, ramshackle room that they had beamed into. Uhura, Bones, Hendorff, and two officers from security stand at attention, wearing plain civilian clothes.
“We have to stay under-the-radar, since planetary law enforcement is suspected to be on the take. This may work in our favor, since Grail operates rather brazenly, without fear of reprisal.” Jim hands the map to Uhura. “Keep your phasers hidden, and stay with your partner. Use communicators sparingly. Remember, the populace is stuck in the 1980s.”
“Stay under the radar. Let’s go. Spread out.” The team walks out of the building.
Bones comes to walk by Jim’s side. “Nice acid-wash jeans, Jim.”
Jim smirks. “Spock picked them out for me.”
Cars pass them on the street. “A real pity he couldn’t be here.”
They wait for the traffic signal to change. “Yeah. Grail would be able to spot him from a mile away.”
“He’d be a hotspot on his modified VISOR, that’s for sure.” Bones takes a deep breath, taking in the chaos of the marketplace.
They wind their way through the crowd. “See him yet?” Jim asks.
“Over there.” Bones nods his head to the left. “And he’s got some kids lining up.”
Jim sees the knot of teenagers around a man wearing oversized wrap-around sunglasses, beard heavy on his chin.
“Wait, let’s see what he does.” Jim pretends to look through a jewelry merchant’s wares.
Grail starts walking out of the market, teenagers following him.
Bones and Jim trail him, at a distance. He travels into a deserted part of the city.
Grail stops in the middle of a block of boarded up row homes, ushering the teens through the door. He lingers on the porch, looking around. He starts walking away from the house.
“Get the rest of the team over here; raid that house. I’m going after Grail.” Jim takes off, leaving Bones behind.
Grail moves through the abandoned section of the city with purpose. He turns down a back alley.
When Jim turns the corner, he sees no one in the dead end alley. He runs down it, glancing at the piles of trash and pulling out his communicator.
“Kirk to Enterprise.”
Jim hears a rustling behind him, and starts to turn. Grail stands up from his hiding place. Jim sees a two-by-four swinging straight at him.
Fade to black.