A/N: A Scotty story.
It was his worst day. That, Scotty knew without a doubt.
The Enterprise had sent down a scientific crew to the dreary Pluviaru II in order to conduct a study on the local flora. Scotty and Commander Spock had been sent down to supervise, while (for once) The Captain, and Doctor McCoy had stayed aboard to process the incoming samples. They were looking for a key ingredient in the experimental Levodian Flu Vaccine. Starfleet had put a priority on this mission after a particularly nasty outbreak on Vulcan. And as procrastinating is illogical, they were here.
Fortunately, the scientific team had quickly located the prospective ingredients.
Unfortunately, it had rained. The. Entire. Time.
Scotty had beamed down in his regular uniform. A little rain wasn't going to bother a hardy Scotsman, or so he thought. A little rain had turned into a downpour, and then to moderate flooding. The rain was everywhere. There was no cover, no relief. By the time the expedition had nearly wrapped up, the storm had yet to follow suit. It was still pouring when they had started beaming back up. He'd had enough. The only thing left to do on the surface was pack crates and receive incoming samples from the Pluviarun Botanical Index, so that was a couple of wet hours he could afford to miss.
Scotty was soaked to the skin. His boots sloshed. His hair was stuck flat to his head. Every article was waterlogged. If one asked Lieutenant Kyle, he would say that 'Commander Scott looked a sorry sight' when he and his unit materialized on the pad.
He was soaked. He was tired. He was cold.
"Thank ye, Lieutenant. I'm glad to be off that wet, miserable-… ah… AAH-"
He sneezed.
He was coming down with something.
Nurse Chapel had taken care of him in Sickbay, as Doctor McCoy was busy in he labs.
"It's just a cold." She had said, smiling. Just a cold. She might've said 'just a punctured lung' or 'just a broken leg' for all the discomfort he was feeling. He was purely miserable.
Scotty had been prescribed bedrest and a little purple pill once-every-six-hours-until-symptoms-subsided. He would do it gladly. Anything was better than this.
When Scotty arrived in his quarters at last, he was still mostly damp, shivering, and exhausted. He got out of his wet clothes first thing. A warm t-shirt and cozy sweatpants were a welcome change. Then, straight to bed. Scotty took the purple pill as per Nurse Chapel's instructions. He curled up on his mattress and pulled the blanket all the way over his head.
And now, he thought, sleep at last.
Lieutenant Kyle was manning the transporter when it happened. It all started innocently enough: A pretty voice requested three to beam up. Kyle, thinking it was the last of the research team, obliged.
In short, he was mistaken.
Three women he did not recognize materialized on the platform in front of him. The first thing he noticed was their strange appearance: all had iridescent purple skin and dark hair. Secondly, he saw that they were advancing. In fact, they were moving with lightning speed. Before Kyle could even reach for his phaser, they were on him. Two of them pinned his arms at this sides, while the other relieved him of his weapon and communicator. Not to say Kyle didn't try to fight back. He struggled wildly against his captors, but they hardly responded. He went so far as to lash out with his feet, but had the same result as kicking a concrete block.
"Who are you?" He finally asked. "What do you want?"
The woman with his phaser cocked her head to the side at the query.
"We are Xarlana, Rhajine, and Ilen." Her voice sounded almost unnatural, as if she had to organize each syllable before speaking. "We are here to disassemble your warp core."
Kyle's eyebrows shot up. Suddenly, he realized what was happening. These women… They weren't alive, in the regular sense. They weren't organic.
"You…" Kyle started, "You're androids!"
The leader snarled. "Yes. Stop wasting our time. Now, you will take us to your Captain."
Kyle snorted. "I will do no such thing."
The woman, being either Xarlana, Rhajine, or Ilen, studied him again.
"You will. Ilen, persuade him." Kyle jumped. The confused, almost indifferent tone of her voice all but erased the immanent threat. But not quite. The woman holding his left arm, Ilen he presumed, sent the lead lady a questioning glace. The head android nodded firmly. Ilen blinked and then slowly brought Kyle's arm further and further behind his back. He struggled still, but the grip was unwavering.
"I won't do it!" He shouted. "Whatever you do to me, you won't get the Captain or anyone else! Not while I can do something about it!" They were pretty brave words, he supposed, even though he was scared stiff. Kyle didn't consider himself a particularly brave man. He did everything in his power to perform his duty, and sometimes that meant being attacked by anybody who came through the transporter, ship's guests, crewmen under telepathic influence, prisoners, patients from sickbay, his commanding officers, certain doctors… Honestly, now that he thought about it, he should really write in a request for a raise considering all he had to put up with.
Fortunately for him, Ilen stopped after this outburst. She looked back to her leader.
"He will not, Xarlana!" She cried, distraught, "What shall we do?"
Xarlana studied the situation for a minute. Finally, she gave her other companion, Rhajine, a look. Rhajine nodded. Kyle knew what was coming. Resigned to his fate of waking up once again either in Sickbay or on the floor behind his console, he braced for impact. Rhajine didn't pull her punches.
The door chimed. Scotty had to bite his tongue, lest he inadvertently swear at his Captain or something. That would be awkward.
"Who is it?" He called.
"It's Harper, sir." Scotty groaned. The Ensign always seemed to be in his hair.
"What's th' matter, Harper? I'm off duty!"
"Sir, there's a fluxuation in energy readings on Deck 7. The computer archive seems to be operating normally, and we can't figure out what's causing it, sir."
Scotty sighed. It was a minor problem, really. Harper was always antsy about little things like this.
"If y'can't figure it out in… six hours, come back an' get me." Six hours. That was when he'd have to take another pill anyway.
"But sir-"
"Six hours, Harper! I'm sick, for goodness sake!"
"Sir, I really think-"
"If anythin' or anyone comes through that door, they're gonna get a greeting courtesy o' mah phaser, lad! Get back to work!"
Receding footfalls thudded in the hallway. Scotty nodded to himself and set his alarm for six hours. Might as well check on the thing then anyway. Before he settled back down all the way, Scotty had a sudden thought. He reached over to his bedside drawer and removed his phaser. He turned it over in his hands for a moment before deciding.
If Ensign Harper came back before the time was up, well… A light stun never really hurt anyone.
The Rec Rooms were in chaos. Security couldn't get to them, since most of the doors on this deck were malfunctioning all of the sudden. They were trying to phaser through, but until then, they'd have to call in the cavalry.
In Doctor McCoy's book, 'armed to the teeth' meant as many hyposprays as he could carry. Nurse Chapel had brought a phaser rifle. In hindsight, her way was probably better.
There was a purple woman shoving crewmen into a supply closet. McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Drop him!" Chapel shouted at another interesting lady, who had Lieutenant Riley thrown over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She dropped him, quite forcefully, and turned to face the rescue party.
"You have no business here!" She addressed them loudly and drew the attention of her companions. One woman finished breaking the control panel on the supply closet, and the other paused her assault with a pommel horse.
"You bet your britches we do!" McCoy countered. "I will not have you tossing crewmembers around like playthings! You're liable to hurt somebody!"
Riley's former captor stared at them blankly. McCoy could tell that there was something off about these ladies, but with his hands full of hypos, he couldn't do a lot to figure out what.
"And that would be unsatisfactory?"
"Unsatisfactory?" McCoy fumed. "It's horrible, that's what it is! Why, I've got half a mind to-"
The purple woman grabbed Riley and hoisted him into the air. There was a sound like grinding metal. Riley shouted in surprise.
"Then you will drop your weapons."
McCoy cursed under his breath. Chapel tossed down the phaser rifle with a glare that could melt dilithium.
Scotty decided that he would dismantle his doorchime. He would. He swore it. A glance told him it hadn't nearly been three hours, let alone six. He fumbled around for his phaser. The least he could do was scare Harper a bit. Teach the lad not to stick his nose into sick people's business.
The door slid open. That wasn't supposed to happen.
Scotty bolted upright and tried to fight the sudden dizziness that overcame him. Metal screeched. Somebody had a hold of his shirtfront before he could open his eyes. When he finally did, he found himself face to face with a very lovely metallic lady. He was stunned. Well, this is new, his mind managed.
"You are the Mister Scott?" She demanded. Her expression was somewhere between defiant and concerned. Scotty wasn't sure what exactly the game was, but he wasn't in a position to do anything about it.
"Aye, that's- that's…" He tensed up before letting loose one heck of a sneeze. The metal lady didn't recoil, oddly enough, but she did seem confused.
"He is malfunctioning? Rhajine, use the Doctor's device. It will tell us."
Another woman appeared in his peripheral vision. At this point, Scotty's head was spinning enough to where he couldn't be sure of the real number. Maybe there were dozens. Who knows?
"Xarlana!" The second one cried. "He is deteriorating! Look at his readouts- they are dangerously out of acceptable parameters."
Scotty frowned. Either the mechanical miss didn't know how to operate a tricorder, or Nurse Chapel had lied to his face. Who did he want angry with him today…
"It's just a cold." Scotty waved a hand at the tricorder. "Nothin' to worry about."
The alarm he'd set earlier chose this moment to start shrieking. Scotty groaned. The noise, combined with the shrill metallic noise that started up for goodness knows what reason, was giving him a headache.
"His monitoring system! He is shutting down!" The third- there were three now? - woman sounded worried.
"It's just my medicine…" Scotty made to shut off the alarm. Xarlana, maybe, released his shirtfront, and he fell face first into the mattress.
"He has already reached physical shutdown!" Someone wailed. Scotty was hauled off the bedspread and cradled in multiple sets of arms. This was the strangest fever dream he could remember having.
Whichever one was on his left loudly lamented the death of someone, which was then related back to his own misfortune. Scotty couldn't make out much over the pounding in his head.
"If you ladies would just let me-" He let out another mammoth sneeze. His well-meaning captors froze. "If you'd just let me take mah medicine…" Scotty sniffled. His voice sounded waterlogged. Nurse Chapel had said something about drainage.
He was allowed to fumble to his bedside table with some supervision. Scotty located the correct pill and reached for his glass of water. To his surprise, he found it was hovering just in front his nose. That was odd.
After he had gotten the prescription down, Scotty found himself being lowered onto his pillow. Somebody else tucked him in. It was soothing but…
"If ye don't mind mah asking, what the devil's goin' on around here?"
"Hurry, Spock! I'm sure your Vulcan ears can hear that-"
Spock considered turning the phaser on Doctor McCoy, put the consequential paperwork required put him off of it. "I am going as fast as is possible, Doctor. If you wish for me to risk injuring myself or Mister Scott-"
McCoy huffed. "Of course not, you green blooded-… Just get on with it! Listen to him! They're torturing the poor man!"
Even Captain Kirk could hear the wheezing, accompanied every so often by screeching metal. When they'd finally freed the inmates of storage closet 3-A, Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel had made sure to fill him in on the situation. Shortly after Lieutenant Kyle was found unconscious behind the transporter console, the search was redirected toward Scott's quarters.
McCoy was about to launch another attack when he realized something. They were standing in the corridor trying to phaser through a portion of the wall just under the obliterated door controls. They were doing this, when they could just go to the room next door…
"Forget this! Follow me!" McCoy headed for his own door. The Captain and First Officer stared after him a moment, before the realization hit them as well.
"I can't believe-"
"It appears, Captain, that in our… haste that we overlooked a-"
"Would you two quit yammering and come on?"
They followed the Doctor through his quarters. Spock did not comment on the state of disarray. These were desperate times indeed. The trio stopped outside the Doctor's bathroom. McCoy paused at the door.
"Doctor?"
McCoy fidgeted with the control panel a moment before turning around. "Swear, cross your hearts, you're never speaking a word of this to anyone!"
He was met with silence.
"It's not strictly regulation, but no official rules are being broken, so not a word!"
Not knowing what else to do, the Captain and First Officer both nodded.
"Right. Let's go save Scotty."
They passed through what could loosely be called a bathroom, and what could also be considered a liquor cabinet, and into Scotty's quarters.
They forgot about the alcohol. This was stranger by far.
Scotty was propped up on a stack of pillows, laughing as he read what sounded like a technical journal to three purple android women. Any time one of the ladies moved, there was a screech like no other. Scotty winced, but that was about the limit of his distress.
"Just what the blazes…" McCoy trailed off. The three of them were crowded in the narrow doorway without an idea as to what they should do. Luckily, Scotty noticed them.
"Captain! Oh, and Mister Spock, Doctor McCoy! You'll never believe…" Scotty froze before sneezing violently. In an instant, there were three tissues within reach. "Thank ye, ladies."
"I need a drink." McCoy murmured. He remembered all too well the cramped conditions inside storage closet 3-A, including all the whining Kevin Riley had done on account of his dislocated shoulder. The same women who had locked them up were now playing nurse. "Scotty, what the-"
A barrage of sneezes interrupted him. "I'b sorry, Doctor." Scotty managed in spite of his rebelling sinuses. "If you'll give me a chance to exblain."
The three officers waited for the story of the year. Turns out, it was nothing short of remarkable. The androids, for androids they were, had come seeking help. Their creator had died and now their own systems were shutting down. Unstable grief had taxed their systems beyond acceptable limits. They'd succumb to malfunctions soon. Their mental programming remained, but their android bodies would cease to function. Scotty was sure they didn't have long.
"Perhaps…" Spock began, being the only one whose jaw was not on the floor, "…an arrangement could be made."
He ought to look up McCoy, the old rascal. Data- the android boy- assured him the Doctor was alive and kicking, even at the ripe old age of 140. They said Spock was out there too, somewhere.
Scotty wasn't feeling up to the task. After Jim- after the Captain had died, he'd thrown himself into his work, going deeper and deeper into space to escape. It seemed like the thing to be done. None of them had handled it well.
News of his death had been greatly exaggerated, but no one had expected him to be preserved in a transporter beam. Least of all Spock. Apparently, the Vulcan had done a great deal in his honor.
They'd named inventions after him, sure. Montgomery Scott was humble, but he knew his worth. It was flattering, but not unexpected. Especially after he was to have died.
But he didn't expect this. He didn't expect the Lieutenant Commander- Geordi, when he was off duty, Geordi- to bring him around to the holodeck.
"I had them back at the Academy. After all the times you- the Enterprise- ran into androids of non-human origin, they made it a mandatory class for the Engineering track."
"Made what a class, lad?"
"Functions and Life Stages of Androids. ENG 403." Geordi smiled and walked up to the computer console. "Computer, load program Instructional Engineering 403, Academy files."
The doors slid open.
"Run program."
And there were three lovely faces he'd almost forgotten. Ones he was quite sure he'd never see again."
"The Mister Scott! He is well, sisters, he is well!"
A/N: Not my best work, but I couldn't let it go by the wayside.
