The electro-crystal whirring of the transporter. That strange moment of non-being as the transporter technology sent his essence whizzing down to the planet. The world took form before he did, so he’d seen the distinctive tall, jagged frost covered mountains in the distance, and the dark, stone walls of the Ramerhaam palace, and then he’d started to feel wrong as he became aware of a weight and a mass on his chest, and as he materialized he looked down to see two large, round mounds straining against his shirt even as strands of long hair blew into his eyes.
He looked at Spock– why was Spock so tall now? The security detail, Janice Rand and Uhura, all of whom had gotten taller, and then back at — did he have breasts? Small hands. Slender little wrists and arms. He felt a cool breeze blow across his bare belly; he wore his same uniform, but with all that extra mass on his chest it didn’t fit anymore and left his mid-rift bare.
“What’s going on?” Rand whispered. “Who is she?”
Kirk tried to brush the long hair away from his face, but the strong wind kept blowing it back across his eyes. “Spock?” He said, putting a hand to his throat as he heard the chirping sound of his new voice.
Spock examined Kirk the same way he would look at a specimen in a jar, then raised an eyebrow. “It appears the transporter has experienced a non-standard outcome.”
Kirk slapped at his hip, reaching for his communicator. The belt had risen up on his now wide, round hips, but hung lose across his slender waist, and he had to reach around to find it.
“Is she the Captain?” He heard Uhuru ask.
She. For the first time, someone referred to him a she, and he felt his stomach turn queasy. “Cut the chatter,” he said, as he flipped his communicator open, and it squawked. Across the way, he saw the Ramerhaam delegation approaching, their flags snapping in the wind, the armor flashing in the sun. Well, there would have to be a delay..
‘Kirk to Enterprise,” he said, trying to put some man in his little voice. “Scotty. Beam us back up. There’s been an– incident.”
“Who is this?” Scotty answered, sounding furious. “Get off the Captain’s channel!”
“Scotty, I don’t have time–”
“This is first officer Spock,” Kirk heard a deep, manly voice cut in. “Beam the party back up. There has been an unexpected transporter outcome.”
“I– I can’t,” Scotty said. “As soon as I beamed you down, the whole system shorted out and caught fire.”
“Shorted out?” Kirk said, watching as the Ramerhaam delegation drew closer. “How long until you can get it up and running?”
“It may take days.”
Kirk nodded. Okay. Then, he would just have to find a way to make it work. The Ramerhaamians had discovered one of the richest deposits of dilithium crystals in the galaxy, and he had been tasked to secure a treaty and trade partnership. “Keep us posted,” he said. “The delegation is here. Kirk out.” He threw his shoulders back, feeling his breasts bounce, but ignored it, ignored the wrongness of this body, the way his hips seemed to sway, his legs felt too long, his butt felt too big, never mind his bare belly. He had to go, to do, to complete his mission.
“Send a shuttle,” he heard Spock say, then Spock called, “Captain! Wait!”
Spock giving orders? Kirk hid his displeasure. They would have to talk about this. But right now, he had a mission, and so he walked up to the delegation and made the gesture of greeting he’d been taught, putting his hand over his heart and feeling something soft and round– so wrong– then raising a fist in the air.
The Ramerhaam men laughed, and then Kirk noticed the way they were all looking at him– or, rather, at his body, letting their hungry eyes slink up and down his shape, lingering on his breasts. His skin crawled, and he resisted the urge to cross his little arms across his breasts, and instead stood as he usually would, looking their leader right in the eyes.
“Captain…” he heard Spock say.
‘That’s enough,” Kirk snapped back, his little voice rising to an even higher squeak.
Once again, the men of Ramerhaam laughed.
Kirk felt unsure, locked their in their hungry gaze, being laughed at, but he decided to brazen it out. “I bring an offering of peace and mutual prosperity from the Federation,” he said.
The men all laughed again, except for the leader, whose face grew dark and whose eyes burned with rage. “Why is this female speaking?” He asked, looking past Kirk to Mister Spock.
“Excuse her,” Spock said. “She doesn’t know her place.”
My place? Kirk glanced back at Spock, furious. He ignored the long hair blowing into his face, and turned back to face the sneering, arrogant face of the Rameerhaam diplomat. ‘I am Captain James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise, and I am the—”
Kirk saw stars, felt a burning on his cheek, shook his head as he struggled to process what had just happened, that this man had smacked him in the face.
“Shut up!” The man bellowed. “Women do not speak in the presence of men!”
Kirk saw his security detail reach for their phasers, but an autogun behind them they hadn’t even seen fired a spear that slammed right through the chest of one of them– Bradley– and he fell to the ground, dead.
Kirk’s own hand went to his phaser, but before he could find it he felt his face slapped again and again, and then a man’s powerful arms around him. He struggled helplessly, stunned at how small and weak he’d become, and the man lifted him off his feet and turned him around so he could watch as his crew were disarmed.
“The penalty for a female who disrespects a man,” the diplomat said as he held Kirk in his arms. “Is death.”
Kirk’s eyes met Spock’s. He saw the cool, Vulcan determination, and Kirk felt his heart flutter. Then, the man holding him lifted Kirk, tossed him over his shoulder and carried James T. Kirk kicking and writhing into Ramerhaam Hall.