INT. STARBASE 95/BAR
A little over two hours have passed since Kirk and Mitchell ordered their first Bolian Zombies; while the captain is still nursing that first drink, the major – inebriated to the max – is currently on his fourth.
MITCHELL: (slurring) A toast to Capt. Kirk! (beat) I always said you’d make admiral, or prison, before thirty-three!
KIRK: I’m thirty-two, Gary. I’d have to work at it to accomplish either in your time limit.
MITCHELL: Ah, but you’re a captain, and I’m only a lowly major. You’ve travelled fast and far.
KIRK: (smirks) Is that why you’re trying to make me drunk, Gary?
MITCHELL: (frowns) What? No! You deserve your prizes, and I deserve what I’ve won … which isn’t bad, come to think of it, except perhaps compared to you. (laughs) No, oh, no …. I just thought, when I saw you, how funny Rhabé was on the day he got his commission ….
Mitchell then collapses across the table, spilling the rest of their drinks in the process, caught in a fit of giggles. As the other clientele in the bar look their way, Kirk blushes with embarrassment.
KIRK: Gary? Come on, Gary, time to go.
On a whim, Kirk takes a look at his chrono. Realizing what time it is, he leaps up from his seat in shock.
KIRK: (shakes Mitchell) Gary!
MITCHELL: Mrffff ….
Jamming his shoulder under one of Mitchell’s arms, he heaves the semi-conscious major up to his feet.
MITCHELL: (grinning and drooling) Are we going to another party?
KIRK: We’re going back to your room.
With Mitchell in tow, Kirk leaves their table. As he passes the front counter, the Andorian waitress stops him with a raised hand.
ANDORIAN WAITRESS: (slides a credit chip reader across the counter to Kirk) You have to pay for your drinks, hon.
Frowning and sighing in indignation, Kirk reaches into his jacket and feels around for his credit chip. Finding it, he pulls it out, slips it into the reader, enters his personal code, and waits for the transfer to go through. Once the transfer of funds is made, he retrieves the chip from the reader.
ANDORIAN WAITRESS: (grins) Stop by again anytime, and don’t forget to bring your friend along with you.
Grumbling, Kirk half-drags, half-carries Mitchell from the bar.
INT. STARBASE 95/HABITAT SECTION/CORRIDOR
With Mitchell in tow, Kirk heads toward Mitchell’s room. Mitchell, still as drunk as ever, is a dead weight in the arms of the captain.
KIRK: Come on, Gary! If you don’t hurry, I’m going to be late! (beat) Damn your so-called sense of humour, anyway.
MITCHELL: (chuckles) You’ll thank me, James.
KIRK: Thank you!? For trying to get me drunk before change of command?!
MITCHELL: Some ceremonies are better endured with the use of a crutch.
KIRK: A crutch is what I’m going to need after I get you back to your room. (beat) Can’t you walk by yourself?
Pulling himself away from Kirk, Mitchell manages to keep himself unsteadily upright.
MITCHELL: Walk by myself? Of course.
Mitchell then topples forward. Kirk manages to catch him just in time.
MITCHELL: See? I’m quite capable of navigating on my own. Go on ahead to your ceremony.
KIRK: I couldn’t possibly.
INT. STARBASE 95/HABITAT SECTION/MITCHELL’S QUARTERS
Opening the door into Mitchell’s rented quarters, Kirk hauls the intoxicated first officer inside and then deposits him in the nearest available sofa.
MITCHELL: There’s a bottle of Saurian brandy in the kitchen cupboard. Let’s have a toast to your new mission.
KIRK: Neither of us need any brandy, Saurian or otherwise.
As Kirk turns to leave, Mitchell tries to push himself up from the sofa.
MITCHELL: I’m your first officer … I’ve gotta come with you. Can’t miss … your coronation.
KIRK: As your commanding officer, I excuse you of any duty you have in attending the change-of-command ceremony.
MITCHELL: Nonsense. Just give me a minute to –
Collapsing forward on his face, the major begins to snore.
KIRK: (smiles) Sleep well, Gary.
The captain departs.