Back in his quarters Kirk sat for a few minutes staring at, at nothing. He had not turned up the lighting in his quarters, hoping that in the darkness he could find some sort of reasoning or at least understanding of what had happened. He was the Captain. He was in command. He was responsible to the wellbeing of his crew. Slowly he started to feel a welcome calmness. Then the treacherous voice whispered, "You tortured one of your own crew. You victimized one of your officers. You publically debased the man. You systematically abused one of your own officers not only in ways horrific to the point of being barbaric but also beyond belief. You could have resisted. You should have re,"
No. He all but jumped out of the chair and turned the lights on then sat down again, waiting for the shaking to stop. No. If he had not done what he had they would have killed Spock as well as Hanley and most likely him and no doubt would have had a plausible reason for doing so. They had been told that Tonalus Three had extremely high expectations of senior officers who piloted starships; that they were expected to be different from others, that they dominated their ships. They had beamed down knowing that to be accepted they had to show their dominance over a subordinate ranking officer. No indication was given as to how the domination was proven nor was how the dominance was tested. Only now did he fully understand why those things were not mentioned. For any captain to do that to a subordinate.
An almost uncontrollable fury briefly possessed him and he slammed his open hand on his desk, "Damn you all!" The fury lessened to an erosive anger. He thought of all those who had been there before and been tested, all those who had been there and not told the full extent of what the domination entailed. Not told of the threats. Not one of them had given the slightest warning about what to expect.
Quickly he reached out and listened to his own report he had ready to send. A chill seemed to grip him, replacing the anger. How like the others. He had not stated what he had done. He had not stated how they would have killed Spock and Hanley if he had not done as they requested. He was as guilty as they were.
It had to be stopped. He could stop it. All he had to do was state what really happened, not give the same sort of report the others had. What really happened. He had told enough, he had a report not all that unlike all the others. And it was what had happened. He and Spock were the senior crew and they had shown dominance over a subordinate officer. Just as the others, he had not gone into the details. With a sense of unease he read again all the reports by other captains who had been there. All of them had said that "those in power on Tonalus Three expected to see a senior officer force or display their dominance on or over a subordinate officer and my Number One and I showed our force in dominating over a subordinate officer."
Force in dominating. Kirk closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. There had been no dominating. Hanley had shown subservience. They had seen he knew he was subservient to them, that he accepted their domination over him without protest or force. He had made it look likek he and Spock were dominating him. Kirk remembered how surprised the Tonalus Three officials present had been surprised by what they say as the silent dominance he and Spock had over Hanley.
Spock had been correct, from the moment Hanley had reached out to touch him Hanley had been in change. Without a word said or a movement made command had been passed. He could not recall how or when other than when they had briefly looked at one another. Without hesitation Hanley had acted. Not once had he resisted what was done to him, did not make a sound, and when he again had looked at Kirk, Kirk had seen only acceptance and pain before Hanley had turned and walked to where Spock stood. Spock had said about seeing unimaginable agony about Hanley when Hanley had stood before him and yet without hesitation and again in silence he had endured what Spock had done to him. They had not forced him, he had enabled them to do what they had to do.
Again he thought of his report and knew he would not send it till he had talked with Spock again, till he had talked with Bones. He wanted to warn others of what the testing involved but knew if he had told the whole story both he and Spock would be up on charges, their careers in ruin. Calmly he nodded. He would wait till he had talked with Spock. He had come to his quarters to sleep but he found he could not block his thoughts, could not stop thinking of what he had done. He had watched his crew be tortured but he had never tortured any of his crew, never mistreated any of his crew. Despite Spock and McCoy wanting him to sleep there was only one place he felt he had to be, needed to be.
McCoy looked from the Vulcan to his patient. He tried not to think of what his friends had had to do, what seeing Hanley like that, with the pain register staying so high and knowing they caused it, could be doing to them. They would both be blaming themselves. While Jim had gone to his quarters to sleep McCoy knew he would not sleep but be going over and over what had happened trying to figure out what he should have done even though McCoy was sure there was nothing either of his friends could have done once Hanley had made up his mind as to what had to be done. He had had too many confrontations with Hanley to not know that. Spock might try to rationalize it and hide behind that Vulcan façade but for that briefest of moments he had seen that human side and seen what that part of him was going through.
Not being able to get an exact analysis of the substances that Hanley had in him meant that, like Spock and Jim, he had to wait and watch. Of all the things known to man that was what he hated the most, the feeling of helplessness and having to wait and watch. He accepted that they had done all they could and now just had to wait and yet there was something about what Spock had said to Hanley. Honey and herbs. So often Spock had teased him about his old ways, perhaps that was what was needed now. There was something he had read. There was no mistaking the fact that whatever Spock had been using had marginally lessened Hanley's pain. He had used manuka honey and herbs. Manuka honey and herbs. Years ago he had studied the old herbal ways as Sulu had brought him an unusual herbal tea. He remembered that it was manuka honey that was an antibiotic internally, antibacterial externally, and was often used in conjunction with different herbs, but which herbs .
"Doctor, are you feeling unwell?" The baritone voice brought McCoy back to the situation he was trying to find an answer for. Only as he brought himself back to the present did he realize he was staring at the Vulcan façade that hid the Human part he had had another glimpse of.
"Quite well, Spock. What herbs are you using with the honey?"
"A few dried Vulcan ones."
Dried. Dry. Absorbing. An emetic. Without thinking McCoy gripped both Spock's arms and looked at him, "Do any of them have the texture of charcoal?"