A K/S fic.
Chapter One - Rescue
Smack!
Jim Kirk was sent reeling by the force of the blow.
Thud!
He was sent back the other way with another well-aimed, power packed blow. Stumbling backwards, he hit the wall and slid down it to slump on the floor. Groggily lifting his head, he leered with a mouth full of blood at his attacker. Spitting, he staggered to his feet.
'Is that all you've got?'
Almost as soon as the last word was out of his mouth, his attacker smashed a brutal punch to Kirk's jaw. The splintering of teeth and the cracking of bone was clearly heard as Jim Kirk went flying backwards to slam, unconscious, against the opposite wall. A dark shape - Kirk's attacker - advanced on his slumped form, menace in his every stance, every movement. As soon as he was close enough, Kirk's attacker unleashed a savage kick to Kirk's now unprotected ribs. Amidst the sound of splintering bone, a soft, barely noticeable shimmering sound came from behind Kirk's attacker. What was noticeable, however, was the look of surprise on Kirk's attacker's face as he slumped to the ground, unconscious and silent. Standing behind the newly incapacitated figure, stood a man shrouded in shadow. He strode forwards, and gently gathering up the still form of Jim Kirk in his arms, said softly into a rectangular device held in his hand, 'Enterprise. I have retrieved the Captain. Please alert Doctor McCoy to report to the transporter room immediately. Ready to beam up.' Just as softly, a Scottish burr came from the small speaker.
'Aye, sir. Acknowledged, sir. The doctor is on his way. Beam up in 5… 4… 3… 2…'
The last number was lost in the same soft shimmering sound as the dark form of Jim Kirk and his rescuer were bathed in a silver light. A moment later, the place was once again dark. And the two figures were gone.
~*~
As soon as their forms solidified in Transporter Room One, an irate Doctor McCoy hurried forwards to meet them as the man stepped off the platform.
'Goddammit, Spock, just give him here already!' Spock raised an eyebrow.
'Doctor, I believe there is no point in 'giving him here already' as I am quite capable of carrying the Captain's weight, and as you have brought no means of transport for him, I am quite capable of escorting him down to sickbay.' Spock observed the emotions rushing across McCoy's face; anger, concern, frustration, back to anger, and finally agreement.
'Fine, you pointy-eared hobgoblin, do as you will.' he muttered under his breath as he turned towards the transporter room doors. 'Well, hurry up, come on!' he snapped at Spock, who had been adjusting the unconscious form in his arms for maximum security. 'Who knows how much blood he's lost, and what kinds of trauma he has had to deal with!' Spock's eyebrow almost disappeared into his hairline, but he stayed silent and followed the ship's CMO to Sickbay. Gently placing the still-unconscious Kirk onto a bed, he stood back as McCoy bad-temperedly hurried around the still form. After having to resort to shoving Spock out of his way (or attempting to, anyway) he wheeled around and growled at him, 'I swear, Spock, if you don't get your Vulcan butt outta my way this instant, I'm going to have you forcibly removed from my Sickbay!'
Spock moved out of McCoy's way distractedly. McCoy paused for a moment, slightly stunned by the amount of worry and complacency in Spock's normally inexpressive face. Filing this piece of information away in a corner of his mind for future reference, or possibly teasing, he focused back on Kirk and started listing his injuries for the computer to record. And for Spock, too, he thought. He would like to know.
'Computer, begin recording.' he began. 'Patient: Captain James T Kirk. Current Status: Unconscious. Injuries are comprised of 12 broken teeth, lower jaw broken in two places, three broken ribs, broken right wrist, broken right femur, hairline fracture of the collarbone, cracked and sprained left ankle and numerous minor contusions, cuts and bruises. Cause: Unknown as yet, patient has not regained consciousness since admittance to Sickbay.' He paused, gave Kirk a final once over, and, satisfied, concluded. 'No life-threatening injuries revealed as yet. Computer, end recording.' He stepped back with a sigh from the bed, and collided with a very solid, very tall form standing behind him. Whipping around, he stared at the Vulcan in disbelief.
'What are you doing?!?!?!' he screeched. Spock stepped back, raising an eyebrow.
'Forgive me, Doctor, I was unaware of your proximity to my person,' he replied smoothly. McCoy gaped at him.
'But – but – you were over there!!!' he said, slightly less screechy than last time, pointing at the place the Vulcan had previously occupied, some five meters back. Spock looked down at McCoy, expression passive.
'Yet, I seem to be here, not over there, as you have stated.' McCoy shook his head. The dammed green-blooded hobgoblin doesn't want to admit he was concerned!
'Fine, Spock. Just – try not to get in the way, ok? This is going to be a long night.'
***
Six hours later, McCoy removed the last pair of surgical gloves and, throwing them in the recycler, looked once again at the still form of his Captain. During the last six hours, he had mended the numerous broken and fractured bones, painstakingly repaired each and every one of the broken teeth, lessened the severity of the bruises, cleaned and sutured the cuts (as it would have been too dangerous to mend them entirely at this point) and battled to keep Kirk's heart going after he had flatlined 45 minutes into the surgery. He had also examined Kirk's brain for any clue as to what had been keeping him unconscious. He had discovered that his captors had injected him with a substance known to knock humans out for 24 hours or more, depending on the dosage used. He had done some research once Kirk was stable; the drug was slow to take effect, but once it did unconsciousness was instantaneous. McCoy had worked out that Kirk had been unconscious for the better part of 10 hours, and so was most likely going to be unconscious for a good 14 hours yet. Moving towards his office, he gestured for Spock to follow (he had left just after the surgery had begun and returned just before it had finished) and poured himself a generous amount of brandy. Waving at the Vulcan to sit, he collapsed in his own chair with a grunt and glared over his glass at Spock.
'He'll be fine, as long as his heart doesn't decide to give out again,' he told him. It was testimony to how weary Spock was that he allowed a flicker of puzzlement to grace his features.
'Doctor, the Human heart has no brain, no thinking processes. It cannot, therefore, 'decide to give out' as it is incapable of thinking for itself.' he stated. McCoy looked at him.
'It's a figure of speech, Spock.' he grouched. Spock nodded slowly and rose.
'Well, Doctor, I find I must leave now, to be sufficiently well rested for the beginning of the Alpha shift tomorrow morning.' He turned and walked out, McCoy's 'bye, Spock,' floating out the door behind him.
***
Jim Kirk woke slowly to the soft humming sounds, white walls and antiseptic smells of Sickbay. Blearily opening his eyes, he became aware of a dark form sitting very still by his bedside. Turning his head in an attempt to make the form come into focus, he jumped when it spoke.
'Jim! You're awake!' Moving away for a moment, the dark figure came back with a blurry cylindrical shape in what he presumed was its hand. The object was held to his lips, and he discovered that it held water. He drank eagerly, until it was moved away from him.
'Now, Jim, you should know you can't have too much just yet,' the figure told him sternly. Jim blinked, confused. How did this shape know his name? In the back of his brain he had a niggling feeling that he knew that voice, that shape, but he couldn't recall it. Submitting to the gentle hand on his chest, he allowed himself to be pushed back down into the pillow. He swallowed, and before he knew it he was drifting away into sleep once more.
***
The next time he awoke, he was immediately aware of a presence beside his bed that wasn't Doctor McCoy. Lifting his head, and, to his relief finding his vision back to normal, he was able to recognise the shape of Mr Spock, sleeping sitting up beside him. Smiling slightly, Jim leaned back against his pillows just as Spock stirred.
'Captain. You are awake,' he stated, quite unnecessarily. Jim looked at him and blinked.
'Yes, Spock, I believe I am, in fact, very much awake.' A look fleetingly crossed Spock's features that could be read as relief. Jim frowned slightly. 'You seem bothered by something.' It was not a question. Spock tilted his head fractionally to the side.
'Even incapacitated as you are, you are still quite observant,' he observed after a moment. Jim chuckled, and on finding it hurt considerably, made do with a smile instead.
'Only you, Spock. Only you.' He settled back onto the pillow behind him, still watching Spock. Spock spoke.
'Excuse me, Captain, but I do not understand. Only I what?'
'Only you would observe being observant, Mr Spock.'
'Ah.' Spock appeared deep in thought. Jim watched him for a time, until something occurred to him.
'Where's Bones?'
Spock replied, without seeming to loose his train of thought. 'Doctor McCoy is currently treating a Yeoman that had fallen down a Jeffries tube and sprained her ankle.'
'Oh.' Silence fell, and was soon broken by the sound of the doors opening. Bones strode in, muttering to himself about the stupidity of these new young yeomen, and how it was a pity they were all so pretty.
'… couldn't they have at least a modicum of intelligence in their heads?' he muttered as he looked up.
'Good, you're awake.' he said sourly. He strode over to a small table and picked up a hypospray, checking the contents. Jim watched the hypo coming ever closer, a wary look in his eyes.
'Nice to see you too, Bones,' he said, eyes never leaving the hypo that was now preparing to jam itself into his neck (with a little help from Bones, of course.) Making an effort to not shrink away from it as it descended onto his neck, he winced as it ejected its contents into his bloodstream, a little harder than necessary. 'Bones!'
'Jim, stop complaining.' McCoy examined the panel above Jim's bed. Seemingly satisfied with the readings, he met Jim's hazel eyes with his blue ones. 'Now. How do you feel?'
'Like an elephant decided to have a party in my head with its other elephant friends. What do you think?' he replied. Seeing the fleeting look of hurt cross McCoy's face, he sighed. 'Sorry, Bones, I shouldn't have snapped at you.' McCoy's expression softened slightly and he put his hand on Jim's shoulder.
'It's ok, Jim. Now, how do you feel?'
'Like I've been run over by a cement truck. I've got a huge headache, and everywhere is sore,' he told him. McCoy clicked his tongue a few times.
'Yes, well, you did decide to get beat up by a beefcake of a person, didn't you?' he replied. 'You're covered in bruises. I spent 6 hours fixing your teeth, Jim, so please don't get them knocked out again. I fixed your ribs, and the countless other bones you broke, and now that you're awake I can safely get started on the more serious cuts and lacerations.' He turned back to the little table and got a small pair of scissors and a dermal regenerator. Jim looked at the scissors.
'What're they for?' he asked.
It was Spock who answered. 'You received multiple lacerations of varying lengths and severity. The Doctor was obliged to suture the more severe lacerations as healing them completely proved to be too dangerous in the state you were in at that time.' Jim nodded, understanding.
'Now you have to take them out to fix them up, right?' he said to McCoy. McCoy nodded.
'That is the general idea, yes. Unless you would like to have plastic thread as part of your skin?'
Jim shook his head. 'No, thanks. You just do what you have to do.'
***
Chapter Two – What Came Before
Two days ago…
The Enterprise was on patrol near the edge of Klingon airspace, and as a result her crew was edgy and tensed for any eventuality. Jim Kirk was seated in his chair on the bridge, drinking his fourth coffee in 40 minutes.
'Mr Spock – status?'
'We are travelling at approximately half impulse speed, 100 kilometres from the boundary. All systems functional. No sign of any vessel, Federation or otherwise.' He turned in his seat to face Kirk. 'All quiet, Captain.'
Kirk relaxed fractionally. 'Thank you, Mr Spock.' He turned to Uhura. 'Anything, Uhura?'
'No, sir,' she answered. Kirk relaxed a fraction more.
'Good.' The doors to the turbolift at the back of the bridge opened, and Bones stepped out. Coming to rest his arms on the back of Kirk's chair, he stared out the front viewscreen, acknowledging the 'Hey, Bones,' Kirk sent his way. Noticing something, he stepped closer to the screen, hands falling off the Captain's chair as he moved.
'Bones? What's up?'
The voice came from behind him, and through the haze of realisation he knew it to be Kirk's. Turning his head slightly, but not moving his eyes, he said, 'Jim. We have to go.' Hearing Kirk's questions, he turned around fully and snapped, 'Jim! We have to get out of here!'
Confused, but unwilling to argue, Kirk quickly gave the order.
'Mr Sulu, bring us around 180 degrees, and then get us going at Warp 6. As quickly as possible, please.' Punching the intercom button on his chair, he reached Scotty in Engineering. 'Scotty, Bones has seen something that we need to get away from in a hurry. As soon as Sulu has brought us around, we're going to need warp speed.'
'Aye, sir, she can take it; she's raring to go!'
'Thanks, Scotty. Hang on down the - '
Kirk's voice stopped suddenly. Startled, the whole bridge crew (minus Sulu) whipped around in their seats; Bones hurried towards the Captain's chair, an expletive on his lips.
'Dammit, Jim!'
The voice of Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott could be heard, coming tinnily from the small speaker on the chair.
'Cap'in? Jim? Are you there? Cap'in?'
Bones crossed slowly to the chair. 'Scotty, this is McCoy. The Captain has disappeared.' He sat heavily.
'Disappeared? What do you mean, disappeared?'
'Exactly what I said, Scotty.' He terminated the link and looked at the rest of the bridge crew. He opened his mouth to speak; but didn't get the chance.
'Execution of 180 successful, sir. Stand by for warp –' Sulu never finished his sentence either. A blast rocked the bridge, knocking everyone off their feet (and chairs), leaving the bridge full of groaning, prone bodies. Bones was the first one to his feet, and, as a result, was the first one to see the message appearing on their screen. It said:
Greetings Starship Enterprise. We have the one who calls himself your Captain. He will not be returned. You will go away from us now at the fastest speed you possess or we will blow you out of the sky.
'Fascinating.'
That one word broke McCoy out of his reverie. Turning towards the half Vulcan struggling to rise, he screeched, 'What?!?!?! Those aliens have got Jim, they aren't going to give him back, and all you can say is fascinating?!?!?!?!?!' Spock looked calmly at McCoy as he raged.
'No, Doctor. I find the fact that the Captain was taken strangely intriguing, and even slightly frightening. It is the manner of 'taking' that is fascinating.' He started pacing. 'The fact that the Captain was taken mid-sentence and without any obvious use of a transporter indicates that the –' He paused. 'People - who took him have a far greater knowledge of engineering and technology than we do. Therefore, it is only logical to review the outside tapes and determine the vessel they are using, and then compare our results to the Federation database to identify this race. Only then, can we focus on retrieving the Captain.' McCoy stood, gaping at Spock. Finally he moved.
'Fine. We'll do it your way.' He stomped over to the turbolift and turned before the doors.
'Call me when you get something.' With that, he entered the lift and disappeared.
***
Spock leaned back in his chair and gave the Vulcan equivalent of a sigh. After 4 hours work (one trying to find the enemy vessel on the outside recordings and enhance it enough to be recognisable, and three trawling through the Federation database) he had finally found the race the ship belonged to. They called themselves the Drugoi. They lived deep in the Neutral Zone, on a Class M planet called Mirre. ̆They were warp capable and had been so for the last 100 years, and had allegedly developed advanced secret transporter and tractor beam technologies. Other than that, there was very little information available on them. Spock called up McCoy, and relayed the information. As Spock suspected, there was little surprise or inquiry in his tone.
'Doctor? Would you mind coming down to my quarters? I wish to talk with you.' After a pause, McCoy agreed. 5 minutes later, there was a knock on Spock's door.
'Come.'
The door opened and McCoy walked in. Spock stood.
'Please, take a seat, Doctor.'
Spock waited until McCoy was seated before resuming his seat. Steepling his fingers, he surveyed McCoy until McCoy could take it no longer.
'Dammit, Spock! Why am I here?'
Spock took a breath before beginning. 'You showed little surprise at my findings,' he commented calmly. McCoy looked around as if he was trying to find an escape route. Spock continued. 'On the bridge, you saw the enemy ship and told the Captain we needed to leave. You did not tell the rest of the crew anything.' Spock paused. 'Would you care to share your knowledge with me?'
McCoy sighed. His secret was out, or so close to being so it didn't matter. Resigned to telling Spock everything, he settled back in his chair and began.
'I've had dealings with these aliens once before. When I was just a civilian, not in Starfleet, I got a call from these people from this planet, this 'Mirre'. It must have cost a fortune to contact me, but I guess they were just casting around to find someone who could talk to them, who could understand them. They wanted to know what was happening outside of the Neutral Zone – they hadn't been out in a long long time. They said they had had a war, or something, and as a result the new government shut down the ship building factories and such. The people who contacted me were from a secret faction within the population that had somehow gotten hold of technology they have had hidden away for hundreds of years and built themselves a warp-capable starship with it. They transported me onto their ship and asked for information, information I didn't have, stuff on Earth's defences, the number of warp-capable ships we had, all that sort of thing. They didn't believe me when I said I didn't have that information, ad they locked me on the brig. They kept me there for a week with little food and barely enough water to survive. At the end of the week they beamed me back down to Earth, because they'd gotten scans of a Starship coming near their position, and they didn't want to be caught with an Earthling on board. I was beamed down into the Great Sandy Desert in Australia, can you believe that? It took me another week to get home, 5 days to het out of the desert and 2 to get back to America. After that, I swore I wouldn't have any more dealings with space or aliens or anything of that ort. I had just started believing I would never see them again when I got drafted into Starfleet.' Throughout McCoy's explanation, Spock had sat very still. Finally, he spoke.
'So that is how you recognised their ship.'
Nodding, McCoy replied, 'Yes, I don't think I would've forgotten something like that in a hurry. When I was there they showed me pictures of their world and ships. Those would make a God-fearing man pray for mercy.' He shuddered. Spock rose, deep in thought.
'Thank you, Doctor. Now we have a good chance of retrieving the Captain.'
***
Meanwhile, on the Drugoi's ship…
Kirk staggered; he was no longer sitting down. In fact, he found himself in danger of falling onto a very hard-looking, shiny silver floor. Throwing out his hands in an attempt to regain his balance, he hit some kind of forcefield with his right hand and was thrown violently backwards into a wall. Slumping down onto the floor, he endeavoured to catch his breath as two rather oddly shaped beings approached on the other side of the invisible barrier. Apparently unaware he could understand them, they began conversing in heavily accented Standard, watching him all the while.
'Bagan, you shouldn't have had the field on so high. You could have hurt it,' the one on the left said. It was extremely short, with a slimy-looking bald head and three jet black eyes. The beings walked on three legs, each ending in what could only be called a solid hoof, had a wide body and only one arm, with six fingers. They had a long and extremely thin neck, with their perfectly round heads balanced, swaying slightly, on top. They had two slits for nostrils, and an extremely wide mouth that proved to be full of tiny, razor sharp teeth. Kirk shuddered. Where was he? The other alien spoke.
'Relax, Gehai, it didn't harm him all that much.' The one called Bagan turned and leered through the field at Kirk. Kirk, unable to repress the feelings of disgust and revulsion, scrambled back as far as he could, pressed firmly into the opposite wall. Bagan let out a derisive laugh.
'Look at him, little worm, crawling around on the floor!' Upon hearing this, Kirk scrambled to his feet, holding his head high. Gehai sighed.
'Bagan, leave him alone.' Bagan looked back at Gehai, contempt written all over his face.
'Why should I?' he sneered. Gehai drew himself up to his full height.
'Because I bloody well said so, and I am your commanding officer! Get to work, Bagan!' he snarled, startling Kirk and ensuring submission from Bagan, who immediately dropped his head and walked down the corridor with a barely audible 'Yes, sir.' Gehai turned and looked at Kirk.
'I know you can understand me,' he said. Kirk said nothing. Gehai came closer. 'You are Captain James T. Kirk, of the U.S.S Enterprise. You are from Iowa, on the planet Earth, orbiting the star Sol.' He moved closer still. 'You see, I have done my research. I do not wish to harm you. I only wish to learn more about your race and planet.' Kirk found his voice.
'I don't know who you are, but I do now I don't want to be here, and I don't want to tell you anything. You have no right to kidnap the Captain of a Federation Starship, and no right to be in Federation or Klingon airspace. I will not tell you anything.' Gehai grinned, a grin full of malice. Kirk shrank back slightly from that mouthful of gleaming teeth. That mouth spoke.
'Oh, Captain, you have already told me something. You see, with your admirable defiance, you have told me that you are a stubborn and determined man, and an able Captain. You have also shown me that you like to bluff; how do you lknow we didn't have permission to be in Klingon airspace? For, you see, there are things you don't know, and one of these is this.' He gestured beside him, and a black shape emerged from the shadows of the room beyond his cell. As the shape took form, Kirk couldn't help but stare in horror. For the features slowly being revealed were Klingon.
